Ndudi Smart Monye, flanked by two brothers
NDUDI SMART MONYE
- A Date With History -
A Biographical Sketch
“Man proposes, but God disposes,” so goes the popular saying. In the whole of creation only God the Grand Creator is able to propose as well as dispose without failing. And so it happened in the life of Ndudi Smart, the son of Eyin—the son of Monye of Afam lineage in Umuikpulu, at a memorable event on Wednesday, 25 June 2008. That day was Afor in the native calendar and the event was Ichi Ogbe Umuikpulu in Owerre-Olubor.
Left to Ndudi, he would decline any chieftaincy—especially one involving an ancient Olubor tradition like the Ichi Ogbe. Some call it Ichi Mmo, and this is why it is loathsome to Ndudi who likes to view things from the Christian perspective. However, longevity has thrust upon him this prime position in Olubor gerontocracy. And who gives longevity other than the giver of life—the god whose name is Jehovah? And here is where the saying—“man proposes, but God disposes”—comes very true!
Born in 1918, at a time when birthday specifics as to time of the day, the day in the week, the day in the month and the very month were not considered important among his kindred, Ndudi began the first 32 years of his life course in Umuikpulu. For his only formal education Ndudi attended Diagbor Primary School (then known as CMS Primary School and in the same premises as the St Barnabas Church, Owerre-Olubor) between 1945 and 48. That primary education, which though started very late when Ndudi was 27, still fell short by two years when he began preparation to take a wife to his elder brother, Okorie Pius Monye, in Accra, Ghana (then known as Gold Coast) much later in June 1950.
In 1951 Ndudi moved from Accra to Takoradi where he stayed with one Mr Peter Akamagwuna, a Nigerian of Ubulu-Uno, together with his wife of Igbo extraction. Peter and his wife always visited the newly married Okorie, Ndudi’s brother, in Accra and had expressed interest in having Ndudi come over and stay with them so they could help him secure a job in Takoradi. This couple reneged in the promise as it enjoyed Ndudi’s excellent handling of household chores! However, Sylvester, the younger brother to Peter Akamagwuna, had found a bosom friend in Ndudi and was not happy at the fatigue Ndudi was having in the home of the Akajiokus. Sylvester was living apart from Peter. One day he stirred up trouble with his brother Peter over Ndudi and asked Ndudi to pick his things and come along so they could live together. While with Sylvester, Ndudi got a job as an apprentice in the assembly section of SCOA Motors, Takoradi, in 1952. Though he came in as a novice, within weeks Ndudi had mastered the ropes of assembling completely knocked down Austin motor vehicle.
In the 1950s the government of Ghana was developing a lot of infrastructure, especially the railways. Taylor Woodrow was contracted to supply and service tractors and caterpillars which were used for clearing the hills and forests along the path of the rail lines to be constructed. In a circumstance like this, artisans would always be in high demand. Equipped with his experience at the SCOA Austin assembly and confident in his ability to quickly understand technical details, Ndudi applied to Taylor Woodrow as a tools boy in the hope of becoming a fitter machinist. This was in 1952.
On his employment, Ndudi was assigned to the Accra-Tema rail line project to work as tools kit carrier and errand boy for the foremen. It is worth noting here that only a few of the expatriates knew the job very well; many of them only came out to Africa to earn a living because of the abundant job opportunities available in the colonies at that time. After three months of tool-carrying and watching the foremen at work, a caterpillar broke down and for four days the five foremen worked on the caterpillar but could neither find the problem nor the solution to it. The problem was a worn-out contactor, but the five Ghanaian fitter machinists did not see!
The technical manager was a British engineer. He came out of his office to find the caterpillar still not fitted after four days! He looked down, turning his head in disappointment and then asked Ndudi: “Smart, can you fit this machine?” “Yes, I can try Sir,” replied Ndudi. The expatriate manager probably did not have the technical know-how to repair the broken caterpillar, otherwise he should have mounted it and prove his mettle as the master!
In less than an hour Ndudi had isolated the problem—a worn-out contactor! He disconnected it, scraped it, fitted it back, started the engine and it thundered. The caterpillar had been resurrected after four days! The technical manager, who had ordered the five foremen to leave the scene and follow him into his office, dashed out on hearing the loud rumble. He headed straight to the caterpillar upon which Smart had mounted like a conqueror. He asked the apprentice Smart what he had done and he explained. There and then, he took Smart to the pay office and authorized a 50% salary increase with immediate effect!
Ghana’s construction of infrastructure was nationwide, and so in 1953 Taylor Woodrow transferred Ndudi to another rail line under construction—the Achiansi-Kotoku rail line. And here something happened that proved that Ndudi had honed his skill as a fitter machinist. One of the caterpillars refused to move, even while the engine was running. When the British engineer in charge was told of this he promised to bring in a tug to tow away the caterpillar to the workshop for repair.
This expatriate boss, who had promised a tug before mid-day, went away and never came back to the project site until past 7 p.m. and even without a tug! He was met on the muddy path coming with his Land Rover jeep while Ndudi and his fellow artisans were being conveyed to the highway in a truck, having waited for their boss since the morning till two hours after the closing time of 5 p.m. The boss was drunk and thoughtlessly asked why Ndudi did not wait for him. In anger, Ndudi retorted with a query to his boss, asking if 7 p.m. was the 12 noon he had promised to bring in a tug. This reminds one of a similar incident between the late Bashorun MKO Abiola and his British boss at the ITT who was a damned drunkard and ever so incompetent.
Ndudi told his onyeocha boss that he knew what was wrong with the caterpillar even before he promised to bring in a tug to tow it away, only he did not want to argue with him then. He told the onyeocha what he did when he had left. Ndudi only cut to size a heavy wooden block and fitted it tightly within the caterpillar track which was slack. By so doing, the track became stretched and tight enough to roll. He started the engine and the caterpillar moved and moved and moved! He then told the onyeocha that with that improvisation the caterpillar could move mounds of mud twenty miles to and fro without the track slacking back! That repair was effected before 12 noon and Ndudi had waited for over 8 hours to explain to the boss what he had done, only to receive a stupid query from the incompetent engineer.
This senior onyeocha did not take lightly the challenging answer that Ndudi gave to him and so he reported the matter to the junior British engineer, one John, who was directly supervising Ndudi’s group of artisans. The following day, John came scolding Ndudi because, according to him, Ndudi had rudely answered the overall boss the previous day. And for this reason, John told Ndudi that his employment would be terminated, whereupon Ndudi called off his bluff and asked him for immediate pay-off. Within minutes what transpired between John and Ndudi had leaked to other artisans on the project site and they all trooped to John’s office to rain insults on him and to tell him that they would no longer work unless he rescinded his decision to terminate Ndudi’s appointment. In the protest some of the artisans had threatened to kill John, but Ndudi passionately pleaded with them not to do so because of him and that they should allow John pay him off immediately.
Ndudi got his terminal pay that day, but the artisans did not return to their respective duties— at least throughout that day— in protest against John’s unjust action. Unfortunately, John died two weeks later, having been beaten flat by a heavy steel which fell from a crane over his head. One of the Ghanaian artisans, who had conveyed John’s body to Accra for burial, saw Ndudi that afternoon, and approaching him with trepidation, expressed shock at the supernatural power of life and death which he claimed Nigerians possessed! He and his fellow artisans believed that John’s death must have been invoked by Ndudi. “So, if John died, I killed him?” Ndudi asked. Ndudi, who knew nothing about John’s death, stood up with righteous indignation to rebuke this Ghanaian and told him to leave his sight immediately.
In the 1950s many job opportunities were available to the skilled workman in the Gold Coast. And so it never took long for Ndudi to change jobs. Within three weeks of the debacle at Taylor Woodrow’s Achiansi-Kotoku rail line site, Ndudi had got another employment with UAC. He left UAC after a few weeks to join Parkston & Howard (harbor builders) in Tema. This was in 1954 and here he met again his former boss and mentor, Mr Willer, who had interested him in the skilled work of fitter mechanics. Unfortunately, Ndudi resigned this appointment on a sad note. What happened?
While working on an engine at Parkston & Howard, Ndudi had the top part of his left thumb chopped off by the moving part of the engine. He picked up the piece of flesh from the floor and tried to stick it back in place, while co-workers rushed him off to the hospital. The doctor did a very neat stitching and, with some medication, he put Ndudi on sick-leave in the first instance. Later, the doctor placed him on light duty. However, after a month, Ndudi’s onyeocha boss (not his mentor, Mr Willer) felt it was too much privilege for a Blackman to be placed on a long light-duty schedule with full pay, and so he sought to stop the schedule. With his skill much in demand, Ndudi resigned rather than subject himself to the impending degradation. Two days after his resignation, Ndudi got employment with Ghana’s PWD.
Ndudi returned to Nigeria with his family of four in January 1960. He briefly worked with Taylor Woodrow Nigeria Ltd, and then with P&T (now NITEL) from where he retired in 1985 as a workshop superintendent (mechanical).
Umu-Ikpulu
IKPULU ANTHEM
Na ni ke mesi zo ghi,
Umu-Ikpulu?
Na ni ke mesi zo ghi,
Umu-Ikpulu?
Umu-Ikpulu n’Olubor
Umu-Ikpulu!
Umu-Ikpulu, ekwu udo
Umu-Ikpulu!
Umu-Ikpulu idumu oma
Umu-Ikpulu!
Ogbe Odogwu
Umu-Ikpulu!
Mba, ma’zo ghi
Mma ghi ke m’cho
Oga nihun ke ma cho
Umu-Ikpulu!
The area called Umu-Ikpulu in Owerre-Olubor is bordered by the ancestral forest called Ugboko Edofi, Idumu-Etiti in Olubor and Ute-Ogbeje on the eastern side. This vast acreage is the inheritance of Ikpulu, the youngest son of the patriarch Olubor. The patriarch lived in Ugboko Edofi and it would appear that Ikpulu was highly favoured to have inherited the estate nearest to the ancestral forest.
Olubor conferred on Ikpulu the chieftaincy title of Odogwu. The Odogwu chieftaincy is the exclusive preserve of Umuikpulu in the land of Olubor. The patriarch Olubor ordained it that way.
In the days of yore when there were frequent internecine conflicts, the Odogwu was Olubor’s generalissimo. And so to be an Odogwu in those days, the man had to be thoroughly trained in the art of war the traditional way. But gone are the days. The modern society is guided by laws— rules, regulations, charters, conventions, armistices etc— for the sake of peace; and therefore the Odogwu is now in respite or in retreat, so to say.
The modern Odogwu’s role is more of a lobbyist. Where tough decisions or strong representations are required, there you should find today’s Odogwu canvassing Olubor’s altruistic position. It does not require such formal education to play this role as some proponents are now demanding that the modern-day Odogwu must possess! All it requires are shrewdness, eloquence, integrity and, above all, native intelligence. It has become necessary to highlight the place of the Odogwu in Umuikpulu’s ogwa, since he is the prime chief in that council.
Taunts, innuendos and disparaging stereotypes are sometimes used by small minds to pull down their fellow denizens. This sort of mindset probably led to the socio-cultural stigmatization called the osu caste. And this springs from envious and oppressive people assuming the role of taskmasters in their communities. Such is the hidden superiority complex which sometimes is revealed in the beer-parlour drivels which some Olubor men utter in their drunken stupor.
It is the reference to Ikpulu as a “slave boy” of the patriarch Olubor that is being addressed here. One can only infer that those who make that reference are simply re-writing the history which they know little or nothing about. Let such men first go and ask their fathers about the histories of their own families before coming to Ikpulu’s history in Olubor. If Olubor allotted a “slave” the estate nearest to his and went further to give him the exclusive warrior’s title of Odogwu, then the freeborn sons were outcasts and sheer cowards!
Besides, it is not known that the patriarch took slaves as spoils of war in his lifetime. And if he did, could Ikpulu have been the only slave? If not, who were the other slaves and where are their descendants in the land of Olubor? In his terminal declarations did Olubor not order that Ikpulu, being his youngest son, should not take part in the construction or rehabilitation of the shrine, Diagbor, in the ancestral forest? The question then is: Could the patriarch have referred to his “slave” as his youngest son in this context? The perfidious loudmouths should answer these questions and, furthermore, be explicit on this troubling issue.
Ichi Ogbe in Olubor
It is a very well-known fact that before the Europeans came with their western civilization and system of local government which they called Native Authority, every clan had its peculiar form of traditional government. So, in Owerre-Olubor it is Ogwa Ogbe. Ogwa Ogbe is constituted after the Ichi Ogbe ceremony. Ichi Ogbe is a sub-set of Olubor’s gerontocracy, the apex of which is Ogwude-in-Council. Each of the five ogbes (or quarters) in Olubor has its own Ichi Ogbe. For an insight into Ichi Ogbe, we should have a recap of what happened on Wednesday, 25 June 2008, in Umuikpulu.
The day for this ceremony has to be an Afor according to Olubor’s native lore. The reason for this is a matter beyond the scope of this narrative, as it is still locked in secrecy just like many native customs which are in inexplicable. But before the chosen date, the old man to be installed must have formally informed every other ogwa ogbe as well as the Ogwude-in-Council. One or two high chiefs, e.g. the Iyase, must be formally informed too. This whole notification is done by wine-carrying and kolanut presentation.
By mid-day on the Wednesday, 25 June 2008, Ndudi Smart Monye, the concerned, and Ada Nnunu, the oldest female survivor in the line of Afam, presented themselves to Chief Okafor Mokwuye. Chief Mokwuye, an adept in native lore, brought down the okwa okpukpu which had been hanging on rigs in front of his house so as to perform the necessary rites before the eyes of the two witnesses—Ndudi and the Ada. The purpose of the Ada’s presence is for the ofor (a small piece of wood used as emblem of authority), to be handed over to her temporarily for onward presentation later to the diokpa during the installation ceremony. The rites having been performed, Chief Mokwuye instructed a man to lift the okwa okpukpu to the front of the newly constructed ogwa before the next stage of the installation ceremony began. The place of the okwa okpukpu actually is on a platform in the ceiling of the ogwa; and this is where it would go after the final rites of installation.
Ndudi Smart Monye, the man of the day, sat in his new ogwa with his goggles atop his nose while exchanging pleasantries with the invited chiefs as they arrived one after another. Meanwhile, outside the ogwa, the Otu Egede had begun to show their dexterity at drum-beating. So rhythmic was the percussion that it evoked the Ogbanigbe, the yam harvest festival dance, which was still four months away. The guests seated outside the ogwa, who had come also to witness the installation, could not help turning their heads and moving their bodies to the beat.
An occasion like this in the traditional setting is usually awash with drinks— palmwine, beer, stout, soft drinks, strong drinks and wines— as well as food—which invariably is the staple akpu (pounded cassava) and melon-bitterleaf soup. All these were served to the guests who sat in eager expectation of the climax—the Ida Nzu.
The Iyase, the traditional prime minister, is usually the director of affairs at a ceremony like this. Yes, he was there with full presence of mind, unfurling the event’s programme with panache. And so, while the food and drinks were being served, the Iyase had instructed the carrying out of an important aspect of Ichi Ogbe ceremony— that is, the presentation of ogogoro (local gin) and kola nuts.
The gin was decanted into as many as forty 35-centilitre soft-drink bottles. Together with four kola nuts on a plate, each bottle of gin was presented to the chiefs in batches of five for of about six to seven rounds. The answer usually given to anyone trying to find out the meaning of this is simply that it is the tradition.
And then the long-awaited moment — the installation! Chief Okude, representing the Ogwude of Olubor, began the whitewashing of the diokpa with pulverized sacred chalk called nzu. This ceremony is the Ida Nzu. Chief Okude then summoned the Ada of Afam Family, Nnunu, to hand the ofor over to the diokpa.
Without much ado, the sacrificial she-goat was presented to the chiefs and, having been accepted, the animal was taken outside the ogwa to be slaughtered right at the feet of the diokpa. The other rites followed and with the diokpa eating a small roasted portion of the goat meat whilst a traditional prayer was offered, the diokpa’s installation was complete. The drums boomed again as the Otu Egede performed their art with accustomed dexterity!
One observer thought that, being a Christian, a prayerful Bible reading should have climaxed the installation of the diokpa— Ndudi Smart Monye. And so, in his own corner, the observer read and meditated on Psalm 72 which was very apposite for the grand ceremony. The relevant portion of the Psalm is herein adapted as a prayer for the diokpa.
A Prayer for the Diokpa— Ndudi Smart Monye
An adaptation of Psalm 72:1 – 7 (TEV)
Teach the [diokpa] to judge with
your righteousness, O God;
share with him your own justice,
2 so that he will rule over your
people with justice
and govern the oppressed with
righteousness.
3 May [Umuikpulu] enjoy prosperity;
may it experience righteousness.
4 May the [diokpa] judge the poor fairly;
may he help the needy
and defeat their oppressors.
5 May your people worship you as long as the sun shines,
as long as the moon gives light, for ages to come.
6 May the [diokpa] be like rain on the fields,
like showers falling on [Umuikpulu].
7 May righteousness flourish in his [period],
and may prosperity last as long as the
moon gives light.
Retrospections
Someone who has lived up to nine decades should be in a good position to give commendations as well as proffer suggestions for doing certain things in better ways. These are the benefits of hindsight. And so, some of Diokpa Smart Monye’s retrospective views may be evocative and also serve as food for thought.
Almost at every turn in Olubor you find an ogwa. Some of these huts are so minuscule that one wonders how many persons can be seated in each whenever the ogwa is in session. Perhaps this is why a bamboo tent (nzegene) is usually annexed to the ogwa; the usual excuse that nzegene is the custom is just a way to rationalize the inadequacy of the petite ogwa in terms of spaciousness. Diokpa Smart believes that some of these huts, rather than being memorial cenotaphs, constitute defacement of the beautiful tableland of Olubor. Someone, though, may argue that it is better to leave the ogwa ruins as remembrance monuments after the demise of the village heads.
Diokpa Smart, like some denizens of Olubor, thinks that it is sheer waste of fund to be erecting an ogwa at the turn of a new village head. This continual erecting of ogwa is the direct result of moving the okpukpu to the place of the new village head. Diokpa Smart is of the well-thought opinion that to check waste of fund, especially for those who may not have the means, each of the five quarters of Olubor should have a permanent ogwa (or abode for their okpukpu). In so doing, each quarter should be able to find the money to construct a much more spacious ogwa. Every kingdom has one palace, and so it is not inappropriate if in Olubor every quarter has only one ogwa.
One spectacular feature of ogwa architecture is the ukpo. Must ukpo be strictly a part of ogwa? There is no idol buried inside it; rather it reduces the already small space inside the ogwa. Diokpa Smart considered these things and decided to do away with the ancient pattern in the construction of his own ogwa. Therefore, Smart’s ogwa has become the first ogwa without ukpo and could seat more people than any before it, as benches have replaced ukpo. There may be dissension about this, but the advantage of this new format is greater than any disadvantage that may be trumped up.
“MBEKE, the extraordinary Ogwude!” exclaimed Diokpa Smart. It would appear that in the history of Olubor gerontocracy, Ogwude Mbeke has been the most eminent, the most revered, awesome, …. Mbeke the Ogwude would appear to be someone comparable with the patriarch Olubor, judging by the effusive glowing tributes that people utter whenever the name Mbeke is mentioned. Ndudi Smart has fond memories. He talks often of how Mbeke used to visit the CMS Primary School and how the headmaster and pupils received him always with éclat. Ogwude Mbeke’s dedication to Olubor’s cause and to his generation could be likened to that of a leader in ancient Israel as expressed in Psalm 137:5, 6—
5 May I never be able to play the harp again
if I forget you, [Olubor]!
if I do not to remember [Olubor],
if I do not think of [Olubor] as my
greatest joy! —TEV
The place of the Iyase in Olubor’s traditional government is not something that can be overlooked. He is the prime minister. His role at Ogbanigbe is especially noteworthy; and this is where Iyadi, the charismatic Iyase, comes to the fore.
Ndudi Smart remembers Iyase Iyadi as a man imbued with outstanding native intelligence, a man steeped in the ancient lore of Owerre Olubor. Very much averse to the dimming of the light of Olubor culture, Iyase Iyadi usually engaged in the wheeling and dealing that made Olubor’s Ogbanigbe as colourful as the rainbow as well as an annual festival with a happy ending. Most indigenes still believe that the Ogbanigbe festival reached its most colourful climax during the chieftaincy of Iyadi.
A scene from the Ogbanigbe of 2009
This heavily beaded damsel displays some choreography at Owerre Olubor’s Ogbanigbe 2009
It is apposite at this juncture to say a few things about this colourful annual festival called Ogbanigbe. Oral tradition has it that this festival started around the end of the nineteenth century or early in the twentieth century when expansionist wars as well as slave raiding among clans finally ceased. These wars also included the “Ekumeku” wars of the British colonialists who sought to move further into the hinterlands of the Niger Delta by conquering and annexing territories. To celebrate the cessation of these wars and to relish the ensuing peace, the Ogbanigbe was instituted as an annual festival of peace to be celebrated after the Iwaji (the new yam festival). Though the name may differ from community to community, the context and content are similar wherever this autumn festival is celebrated across the vast landscape called Anioma.
Children too love and enjoy the Ogbanigbe. This is another scene from Ogbanigbe 2009
WOW,amazing!!!
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