Chapter 15
Whither My Life?
"After an extensive discussion, I agreed, although I still doubted that I could make a career of it (printing) because of the huge cost of establishing a printing press. I had no money to my name and, to begin with, I didn't know how I was to pay the sum of one hundred naira as apprenticeship fee. Although my brother, Ajiboye, gave his blessings to my change of career, his concurrence was not backed up with the one hundred naira needed to pay the apprenticeship fee."
Precisely the above question was what I asked myself at this point my life.
I confided in Jasper - that is, Tunde Samuel, a Printer by profession - about the ghosts that hunted me. He then advised me to take to printing, a profession where he felt he could give me his unstinted assistance. After an extensive discussion, I agreed, although I still doubted that I could make a career of it because of the huge cost of establishing a printing press. I had no money to my name and, to begin with, I didn't know how I was to pay the sum of one hundred naira as apprenticeship fee. Although my brother, Ajiboye, gave his blessings to my change of career, his concurrence was not backed up with the one hundred naira needed to pay the apprenticeship fee. Neither did he promise to pay it at a later date. Jasper himself wasn't bothered that I could not pay the fee. He was satisfied that my brother gave his consent for me to learn the new trade. So he proceeded to take me on, free of charge!
In march 1974, I started attending his training workshop. The workshop was located at Igbehinadun Street, near Bolade Bus Stop, in Oshodi. I was one of the three apprentices with Jasper then; the others were Ade (now deceased) and Boluwaji, who were Jasper's nephews.
I was designated the Compositor who set the types. Late Ade was in charge of prints while Boluwaji handled the menial jobs. I learned quickly as I did with my Shorthand. Jasper was responsible for only my lunch but, sometimes, he provided breakfast. He clothed me too and gave me the first pairs of leather shoes that I ever wore.
Unfortunately, a few months after I started my printing career, the business collapsed. So was my dream of becoming a printer, which died a natural death.
Chapter 16
My Wandering
Days
"I was so familiar with the railway routes that I had accurate timing of their distances. From Oshodi, through Shogunle, to Ikeja Industrial Estate was exactly a thirty-minute pleasurable journey on foot. And from Oshodi to Yaba Bus Stop, it was approximately forty-five minutes."
The only way forward thereafter was for me to take any kind of job that came my way and which would fetch me the money to resume any form of further education. For this purpose, I trudged repeatedly to several companies including Enpee Textile Industries Limited, Ilupeju, Aswani Textiles and Arcee Textiles, both in Isolo. I walked across the gates of almost all the companies in Ilupeju and Isolo but all to no avail.
What I can never forget was the maddening rushes applicants made anytime the Enpee gate was opened for the selection of factory hands. I succeeded only once in those rushes but my reward was being rejected for being too young to be employed. I wept profusely inside me that morning but the internal bleeding could not get me the job.
I had a companion in this job-seeking and harrowing existence. Uncle Sola, a brother-in-law who lived with us, was naturally a cheerful fellow but he was weather-beaten by unemployment, which visibly affected his personality. Our territorial job-seeking covered Ilupeju, Ikeja and Isolo Industrial Estates where the textile companies were strategically located. We trekked all the ways, and still found the perseverance to occasionally visit the zoo in way-out Yaba to cheer us up. Whenever we went to Yaba, our preferred route was along the railway line from Oshodi. If our area of interest was in Ikeja Estate, we would go through Arowojobe Street in the heart of Oshodi, to the interior of Sogunle and come out at the Shogunle Bus Stop. Sometimes if it suited us, we would exit at Ladipo and then take our lonely route - the railway line.
For me, many things recommended the railway line: its quietness and straightness - confirming the reality that the straight line is the shortest; the rats that delightedly scurried across the rails every now and then, and the clumps of thickets that used to adorn both sides of the rail route. I loved the step-to-step arrangements of the wood and iron bars that made up the railways and which mostly determined our strides. The whitish or sometimes brownish stones that filled the gaps on the floors of the rails were also beautiful to behold. But the serenity of the railway was also marred by the fact that the surrounding communities of people had turned it into a convenient avenue for waste disposal, much of which contained raw human waste. So at long stretches along the line, one had to fight to breathe easily because of the stench that oozed in the air.
I was so familiar with the railway routes that I had accurate timing of their distances. From Oshodi, through Shogunle, to Ikeja Industrial Estate was exactly a thirty-minute pleasurable journey on foot. And from Oshodi to Yaba Bus Stop, it was approximately forty-five minutes.
Uncle Kayode Agbebunmi was another co-traveller applicant with whom I would have accomplished the most historic trekking exercise in Lagos.
Our journey to Yaba, job-hunting, was, as usual, unsuccessful; after which we decided to visit Uncle Samuel Ayelabola in Ikeja and go on from there to visit Uncle David Bankole at the interior of nearby Agege.
Even though I had no idea of the distance of the proposed journey, I convinced Uncle Kayode to let us trek it. At the time, the new Ikorodu, ten-lane Expressway had not been constructed. There were thick bushes on both sides of the existing two-lanes. We had begun our journey along our favourite railway line but a little after Mosalasi Bus Stop, we abandoned the rail line and took to the pedestrian walk way of the Ikorodu highway. We conversed and cracked jokes as we trekked, oblivious of the world around us. The animated conversation seemed to have taken away the tedium of the journey. After Obanikoro Bus Stop, almost opposite the Ilupeju Super market, I looked down along the path and sighted a ten kobo coin lying before me! As if it was about to disappear into thin air I dashed for it, grabbed it and showed it to my Uncle. That was how the Almighty God saved us from having to trek all the way from Yaba to Ikeja that fateful day. Such were our daily rather hopeless perambulations throughout Lagos, and after several weeks of unsuccessful attempts at securing a job, I wondered what next I could do - go back home? I asked myself.
People who don't read books tend to find life boring, dull and their lives are static. So cultivate a reading habit! Yemi Omogboyega
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