University of Benin 1976, Adewunmi a Bio-Chemistry Bachelors of
Science student about to see Fela Kuti
for the first time at a club on the university campus. Take the time out to
picture this, away from Lagos for the first time, at the peak of his youth,
mentally drooling at the opportunity to satiate his hunger for music and art
with a gourmet meal in the form of Fela. The King of Afrobeats, someone who had
immortalised himself with his defiance of the tyranny and challenged the status
quo, that was the Nigerian Military regime.
For those of us who have watched the YouTube clips of Fela’s
brilliance on stage and sometimes during his songs, we are all familiar with
the occasional pause filled with the instrumental blessings of himself and his
band. But sometimes, Fela would take time out to rant. At this point, I must
apologise, because you see like me some of us still make the grave mistake of
calling his TEACHINGS rants.
Now back to the story; Adewunmi (probably accompanied by some
friends, I wouldn’t know, my father never said while telling this story) still
in awe of seeing this icon on stage for the first time, like everyone in the
crowd, he was attentive as ever to Fela’s performance. When Fela paused to
rap/teach, Dewunmi listened as though he was at one of his lectures. Fela spoke
of Nigerians who had their minds enslaved; he cited an example using the
Nigerian lawyers/legal system. He mocked them for wearing black gowns and wigs
even whilst they sweated profusely, saying he didn’t study science but he knew
that black absorbed heat and the dressing didn’t suit the weather of the
country.
As we do now when we listen to Fela’s teachings, they laughed
and applauded. However, Dewunmi didn’t, he digested the message that his peers
missed. They all will have left that night, bellies filled with the dish served
in the form of this prophet ahead of his time. However, Fela was eager to make
sure the message wasn’t missed, so he scolded them and asked them not to clap
or laugh away the message he was trying to pass across. For the rest of the
night, Dewunmi recalled how the crowd were afraid to clap or laugh at any of
his other teachings. Whether this was out of fear of being scolded once more or
not, neither I nor Adewunmi will ever know.
As is with my family every Sunday after the church service, I do
not know whether its intentional, we often meet to discuss the sermon and our
takes from it. This Father’s Day wasn’t any different. I really tapped into
what the priest said about being a real father, a great father, the father that
Christ approves of, rather than just being a good father. As he listed all the
qualities, his brush strokes painted a vivid image of my father in my mind, and
throughout the rest of the service my heart was field with gratitude for the
man, and the woman (his wife) I had been blessed with to call parents.
However, during the sermon, majority of the congregation found a
reason to laugh at examples that the priest cited, and for the life of me I
couldn’t find humour in his entire sermon. Not because I’m not one for laughs,
to be honest my anatomy is probably made up of all funny bones (HAHAHAHA, just
in case you readers don’t laugh along). Alas, as almost all in the congregation
laughed, I struggled to see humour and instead realigned my focus to the word
of God.
It filled me with joy, when during our usual Sunday after sermon
chat, my rents (they don’t enjoy when I call them that) expressed how they too
couldn’t help but wonder how or why the congregation found humour in what was
meant solely to inform and correct those who were fathering their children in
the wrong way. That accompanied by his story time lesson of how Fela made sure
his crowd didn’t leave without fully grasping his message, it was no wonder I
was bloated with joy. Joy at the fact that I didn’t, like the audience,
excluding my father (and probably some other select few) clap instead of listen
and learn from a message perfect for fathers, fathers to be and the sons of
those fathers to be.
LISTEN, DON’T CLAP.
