Chapter 11

                                 Point of No Return

A 3-D banner stretched colourfully across the length and breadth of the
wall that overlooked the stage at the main hall of Stardom Schools. The
-school’s purple and black colours enlivened the background. A large
image of Bepo, laughing gracefully, was on the banner, headlined, ‘FOR HE
GAVE STARDOM HIS VERY BEST’. It was subtitled, ‘Memorable Farewell to a
Most Committed Principal, Adebepo Adewale’. Until that day, many members
of Stardom’s community never knew that ‘Bepo’ was the shortened form of
Adebepo.

Confusion and debate concerning his future were over. He and the school had
come to terms with the reality that he would depart. The only sacrifice Bepo had to
make was to alter his departure date. This would allow the management to offer
him a befitting farewell. He called Emirates Airlines to inform them he would shift
his flight by a week. He was asked to pay a $100 fine, which the school gladly
provided.

The programme began on a Wednesday with a novelty match between the
school team and the staff. The event featured a lot of hilarious fraud, as the games master, Mr Ibe, also the referee, ensured the staff won 3-2. Whenever the students came close to scoring, he would blow the whistle, citing a mysterious foul play. Even the staff’s second goal came via a penalty that weirdly had to be taken five times
until the fifth player beat Stardom’s goalkeeper, Chido. So good was the young goal-
stopper that he had been invited to the country’s Under-17 team. But in this
‘abracadabra’ match, no one could stop Mr Ibe’s ‘voodoo’ refereeing. After the staff
had netted the third goal – eight minutes to the end the games master blew the
final whistle, swearing the time was up. He had sensed danger that the lads could
equalise and was not ready to take chances. But it was all fun as the players capped
the game with singing and dancing around Bepo.

On Thursday, a debate was held in his honour. The crux was: the arts have
contributed more to the development of the country than the sciences.
Representatives of SSS 3 opposed the assertion, while their SSS 2 counterparts
proposed it. The opponents sought to win the audience over by espousing the
values of science in health, energy, technology, etc. The proponents, on the other hand, sought to spark sensation by highlighting that Nigeria’s arts, culture, and
entertainment sector had blessed the country with more appreciable impacts.

They cited the fact that Nigeria had not won the Nobel Prize in Science, whereas Professor
Wole Soyinka earned the Nobel Prize for Literature as far back as 1986—”even long
before our opponents were born.”
The audience roared excitedly, moved by the ingeniously delivered ‘long-
before-our-opponents-were-born’. It was an uppercut. Bepo was glad that Maryam,
the lead debater for the arts, smartly landed the jab, underlining the importance of modest humour in debating. He always advocated this as one of the techniques to
be deployed at speaking competitions. The arts advocates also noted Nollywood’s
role in Nigeria’s Gross Domestic Product, diplomacy, and recreation. They even
argued that music was, at the time, the nation’s biggest export.

In the end, SSS 3 was adjudged the winner. Nevertheless, Bepo felt fulfilled by
the students’ brilliance, initiative and candour. He saw this as the fruit of a seed he had sown. He always believed the Yoruba proverb: ‘B’Ónírèsé ò fíngbá mợ, èyí tó ti fín sílẹ ‘kò le p’arun’. That is: even if Onírèsé, the master carver, eventually bows out of the trade, the carvings he has bequeathed to the world will live on.
From 1:00 p.m. to 3:00 p.m. every Friday, Stardom had sociocultural activities.
That was why the school easily and predictably dedicated the programme to the grand finale of the Bepo send-off. The choral group opened the floor with an
inspirational performance. It was followed by comedy skits by the drama club,
which ‘principally’ imitated Bepo.

Humorously, the comedians aped how he often spoke on the assembly ground, with his trademark ‘other things being equal…’, ‘by
the way…’ and ‘if you say education is too expensive…’ He always allowed the
students to complete the popular saying by chanting, “…try ignorance!” Of course,
they also did not forget the ‘principl’ pronunciation.

Bepo might have realised for the first time that he loved putting his left hand in
his left pocket while speaking. Most revealingly, perhaps, he discovered he could get naughty while reprimanding any teacher who failed to be punctual in class. An imaginary encounter the skit makers staged also indicated that he was not immune to a hot temper, especially when a teacher became lackadaisical.
The last main offering of the day was a string of dances by the drama club.

These included the Bata, Atilogwu, Koroso and Canoe dances. The Yoruba’s Bata
Dance involved mathematical movements of the arms, shoulders and legs, fired by
the bata drum. (Because the instrument was unavailable, the students improvised
with a djembe.) The Igbo Atilogwu dancers dazzled the crowd with spirited body
movements and acrobatics. Koroso, one of the popular Hausa dances, featured the
performers wearing identical outfits and moving their bodies simultaneously. Bepo
was delighted at the richness of Nigerian arts and culture. He worried that he would
miss them in the UK.

Then the last dance came. It was the Canoe Dance of the Badagry people, which
showcased the performers as travellers in a canoe floating on a river. Bepo recalled
how, three years earlier, he had invited a professional dancer from the National
Troupe to teach the students the unique movements. This initiative followed an
October 1 (Independence Day) performance he had taken them to see at the National Theatre in Lagos. There, the Troupe performed the dance alongside other varieties from parts of the country. Even as he was leaving, Bepo was happy the dance had come to stay at Stardom Schools.

He became more emotional when the dance transported him to Badagry, where
he vividly pictured slaves and their agonies. Towards the end of the performance,
documentary on he saw himself back at the Badagry Heritage Museum, watching a
the inhumane treatment slave-masters meted out to the captives. As whips tore the
flesh of the naked slaves and blood oozed from their skins, Bepo felt their pains.

Greatly distressed, he wondered why nobody stopped the cruel handlers. A flame
of anger began to course through his body. As one of the men drew a sword and
made to strike a feeble old slave, Bepo rose to his feet and cried out: “Noooo!”
Silence dropped on the entire audience. The performance stopped abruptly. All
eyes turned towards the principal. Then, Bepo came to himself. He had been
thinking deeply, very deeply, and had slipped into a dreamy state. The auditorium looked in amazement, wondering what had suddenly come upon the principal.
and quickly, too. He surveyed the many
It was Bepo’s turn to improvise
baffled eyes, then smiled: “I meant no school could have done the Canoe Dance
better. None! None at all!” he said as the audience applauded. The drummers
revived. The dancers picked up their imaginary oars and paddled on in sync with
the djembe’s pulsation.

In her remarks, Mrs Ibidun Gloss expressed deep appreciation to Bepo for
contributing what she called an “unrivalled quota” to the growth of Stardom. She
said Bepo was so impactful that if she had her way, she would not let him leave.
“But we know that, in life, we meet to part and part to meet. We can only wish
Mr Bepo success in his new place, his new country.” She stopped and turned in his
direction. “Mr Adewale Adebepo, would you kindly step forward?” she asked.
As the principal rose from his chair, the entire hall parents, staff, students,
guests, ALL
also stood in ovation. Mr Bepo raised both arms high and waved at
them in appreciation. He felt humbled. He walked steadily to the podium and stood
at an arm’s length from the MD, who had also joined in the applause.

“Thank you very much. Thank you… Thank you…” the MD said, as the cheers
and whistling quietened gradually. Then she continued: “Perhaps I need to state
this. I am not the one who employed Mr Bepo. My late father, Chief David Aje, did.
He was the one Bepo met 24 years ago when he first came to this school. Unlike
many others who faced our interview panels, Bepo only encountered Dad on that
first day. He had submitted his application letter to my father. They chatted after
Dad had looked through his Curriculum Vitae and certificates.
“Dad became stuck with him. It was a day in early September of the year. They
arranged that he would resume on September 14, as the school returned from its
long, end-of-session vacation. There was a vacancy for English. So, we expected that
Bepo would resume the first day of the session. But he never did, neither the day
after nor the third day till the end of the week. We were worried and suggested
inviting others who had applied or had been interviewed. Although Dad was quite
concerned that Bepo’s assigned classes – SSS 1-3 would miss out on precious
study hours, he insisted we wait a little longer. Now, that was quite unlike Dad,
who would take no nonsense from any staff member, let alone leave a class
unmanned. But there Father stood, making a case for a ‘bloody’ absentee employee.
“There is an essential teacher in the guy,” Dad kept telling us. To cut a long
story short, Bepo arrived eight days behind schedule. Dad registered his displeasure, of course. But he was glad that our man turned up. Now, I must stress
that Bepo has, from day one, justified the confidence and faith my dad reposed in
him. He has never betrayed that impression of an all-round great teacher, which he
gave Dad.

“Teaching flourishes on the pillars of competence, outspokenness, passion,
empathy and morality. Bepo embodies these and other qualities that a teacher may
require to build great students. When he joined us, Stardom was still struggling to
establish a name, prove itself and break even. Over the years, he contributed his
shining quota towards the realisation of the dream. The golden dream! The Stardom
dreams! Together, we have taken this school to the mountaintop. Teachers have
come, teachers have gone; principals have come, principals have gone, but Bepo’s
input is unique in the history of our school. He has a genuine passion for students.
He connects well with parents. He understands and does everything to promote the
vision of the school. He has been a blessing to our business. So, I urge every other
staff member to emulate him.
“Mr Bepo, it is a pity Stardom and, indeed, Nigeria are losing you to Britain.
We hope you will still find a way to always reach out to your darling students. As
you and I discussed during our meeting on Tuesday, please find a way to get your
school in London to collaborate with us. We will cherish it and value the bond and
mutual gains.
“At this point (she turned to the principal), I would like to present to you this
little token from Stardom. We will not gift you a car or some electronic gadget
because you are no longer in Nigeria to use such. Where you are going is the heaven
and haven of good things, hoping this will not propel some other people to want to
run away,” the MD added purposely, prompting laughter.
“Here is an envelope for you…”
Mr Bepo moved closer to receive it. He did, she held out his right hand and
clasped his in a solid shake. The duo froze for the historic moment as the school’s
photographer went click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Dozens of
smartphone cameras joined the race to capture the hour, the minute, and the second
when it became clearly clear that Mr Adewale Adebepo would be seen no longer on
the premises.
“The gift is from the management,” Mrs Gloss continued, “from the depth of
our souls. I may not have to declare how much…”
“How much? How much?” several voices across the hall asked light-heartedly.
Amid the din, one voice specifically yelled: “Ten billion!” Not a few persons thought
it sounded Audu-ish.
The MD laughed off the inquiry and continued: “But I can assure you that you
don’t need to go to any bank or Mallam to change the money. It is not in naira…”
“How much! Tell us how much!” questioning voices persisted. “Well, I should
admit that it is also not less than $10,000-the highest Stardom has ever presented
to any disengaging member of staff.”
The audience greeted the disclosure with another ovation. “Thank you…thank
you…” the MD said, as she stilled the hall.
“But, meanwhile, it is a cheque; a domiciliary cheque. Not cash. Not raw dollars,
as you can see how flat the envelope is,” she explained as she stepped aside and
offered the podium to Mr Bepo. It was time for the celebrator to speak.
The hall again erupted in applause. The principal took hold of the microphone.
He readjusted it from Mrs Gloss’ four feet, nine inches position and brought it to par
with his six feet, two inches world. “Thank you…thank you, everybody…” he said,
waiting for the roar to subside. “At moments like this, words fail to express sincere
depths of appreciation. On behalf of my family and my… my… my…”
The principal pushed aside the microphone and buried his head on the podium.
He had begun sobbing audibly. Not many were surprised. Twenty-four years after
he first walked into the school premises
what had become home to him
only
a few people expected a tear-free parting.
“Let’s give a round of applause to Mr Adebepo,” the MD intervened. “Our
beloved principal is overcome with emotion. We quite understand that, “she added.
It was the moment of truth. From pockets and handbags, handkerchiefs of all
shades appeared as many members of the Stardom family dabbed their eyes.