Water must flow uphill

Tunde Fagbenle

I’ve just finished reading a book of the above title written by Prof. Roger Makanjuola, former vice-chancellor, Obafemi Awolowo University,Ile-Ife. And after going through the book I realised that the title was in every way as curious and contrarian as the author is himself.


Subtitled, “Adventures in University Administration”, and published by Mosuro Publishers, Ibadan, the book was launched without much fanfare a couple of months ago at the OAU, and in a curious ironic twist of fate, on a day beset by labour strike by the Non-Academic Staff Union of the university — a running and debilitating theme throughout Prof. Makanjuola’s “adventures in administration” in OAU!

Though the book gave me laughter and relief in some places (laughter at the author’s self-deprecating humour and candid view of himself, and relief that there are folks like him in Nigeria), it filled my heart with heaviness and sorrow at the horrors, the monstrosity, of the evils within our universities and the implacable negativity of Nigeria and Nigerians.

That Roger (how I wish he bore a more Nigerian first name!) survived the “adventures” with his mind and body intact is amazing, and owe as much to serendipity as to the indestructibility of his will.

Prior to becoming the VC of OAU (first in an acting capacity from July 1999 to May 2001, and substantive till May 2006)  Makanjuola, Professor of Psychiatry, was the  Chief Medical Director of the university’s teaching hospital for two terms (1989 to November 1997).

The book chronicles his time in both capacities in their horrifying and “water must flow uphill” Herculean-task details.

What Makanjuola brought to both jobs was what had perhaps not been seen before, and may not be seen for some time to come.

Here was a CMD who physically joined hands with cleaners to clean the hospital wards — “the morale of the cleaning staff was greatly boosted —we were showing them how important their job was, and that their tasks were not menial, but work in which everyone participated” — and carried diesel to make generators work to save lives of patients, and a VC who ate beans with students, made himself easily accessible to students and all, was unfailingly at his desk by 7.30am on working days, and shunned corruption in whatever guise or disguise.

Lacking interest in, and completely abhorrent of, the intrigues and shenanigans of campus politics, Makanjuola lent himself to be buffeted by unyielding and conspiratorial colleagues and staff unions on the one hand, and damning, violently unruly student bodies on the other.

He was treading, nay galloping, along ubiquitous landmines without a care (well, seemingly) about his own safety, trusting only in the purity of his mind and nobility of his mission.

Of his success as CMD, he attributes this to: “a genuine commitment to the hospital and the welfare of its staff, and being able to convey this to them, so that they believed in me… I also hope that I was able to convey to them the true values that I hold dear — hard work, honesty, and honour; values that, alas, are so rare in our country today.” “I spent more time going round the wards, clinics, and service departments than I spent in the CMD’s Office or the Board room.”

Of machinations in appointments, he says: “various juju sacrifices started appearing around the campus, at crossroads and in the vicinity of the VC’s Lodge. In addition, a number of the candidates began consulting with various Pentecostal Christian churches. I recall one candidate in particular who became as thin as a rake from protracted fasting.”

He wrote, “Although I wanted the job, I had not gone to see anyone to influence the decision or to seek divine intervention. I did not understand the politics of such appointments, but then I have never engaged in politics over my personal fortunes. I never shall.”

And did he suffer untold deprivations, humiliation and even torture on account of his uprightness and visionary stance? Striking staff unions severally hit him with ‘pasan’ (or atori), the juju shrub attributed with magical powers to inflict impotence (the author says his virility remains unimpaired in spite); student secret-cult members amidst striking student unions dragged and kicked him on the floor: “I was continually kicked and beaten. I was repeatedly floored…A student nicknamed “Old Soldier” was particularly brutal, and was observed to repeatedly kick me, even when I was on the ground.”

By his own account, he’s “a bit of a loner”, enjoying his solitude, his walks for miles and climbing the hills of the vast, beautiful OAU campus, and “sitting on my own in the garden on an evening, drinking beer (O, yes) and reading a book or watching the sunset”. “I also must admit that I am stubborn as well as confrontational.”

There were also moments of reward in appreciation of his selfless dedication to his job and the university: “At one point, members of NASU carried me aloft along the corridors, singing my praises.” At another, students carried him aloft through the campus shouting: “Roja, Roja, Roja”.

Summarising his achievement as CMD and VC, Roger reflects:

“I was able to show that, even in Nigeria, it is possible to hold a position of responsibility without abusing it, and, in particular, without enriching yourself.

I believe my position in this respect, of total integrity with the university’s finances, did influence a substantial number of the staff, and probably also the students. People respond to their leaders, and, they try to emulate them.”

As my friend, Femi Olugbile (writer, medical doctor, and now Permanent Secretary Lagos State Ministry of Health) whom I lent the book to read said, there are quite a number of issues of grave importance that the book dealt with demanding our focus and each that should be treated independently as a topic! I agree with Femi, justice cannot be done to this book in one column.

Until a fortuitous meeting at the Murtala Muhammed Airport, Lagos, having disembarked from the same flight from London a week to the launch of his book, I had never met the professor in person.

However, I recall with interest that when a while ago this column sought for names of a mere handful of Nigerians on whose account God should show mercy and spare Nigeria from “imminent destruction”, he was one of the names that came up.

And this is what a reader said of him (in column of 05/02/12 titled: Our Unsung Heroes): “Roger O.A. Makanjuola, Fmr VC OAU — Principled, Incorruptible. Never had an official driver while in office. Drove himself in his car. One house, completed just last year. A highly respected role model”.

The book affirms no less.

By Tunde Fagbenle