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Femi Anikulapo-Kuti: The 54th Trumpet By Azuka Jebose Molokwu

June 16, 2016


Bariga years: In 1984, the Federal Military Government, under the leaderships of General Muhammadu Buhari and late Brig. Tunde Idiagbon arrested Fela Anikulapo Kuti for violation of the foreign exchange decree. The Afrobeat King was on his way to a concert in Los Angeles, USA, when he was arrested at the Murtala Muhammed International Airport in Lagos.  His arrest, as his character, attracted necessary national conversations. He was found with 1200 US dollars in his possession as he attempted to board a flight.  After months of a made for media trial, Fela was found guilty in September. The government needed to make a strong statement in pursuit of its war against indiscipline: Fela was available. He became a famous poster child for the government’s nuisance military decree... I was a restless young reporter with The Punch, aggressively seeking anything news. I was also seriously flirting with entertainment desk at the Onipetesi newsroom office of the newspaper. Ladi Ayodeji, celebrated Entertainment journalist, my Godfather, discovered my skills. Before joining Punch, I moonlit as a local Disc Jockey in Mafoluku, Oshodi, a densely populated semi lower class area of Lagos. After few weeks of freelancing for Mr. Ayodeji on his entertainment beat, he went to the news editor’s desk and requested that I should be transferred, permanently, to the entertainment desk. Eric Teniola, the then news editor flatly denied his request, “No I can’t give you Jebose, he is one of our young resilient and resourceful reporters: very aggressive,” Mr. Teniola protested. The next morning, “Baba Erico”, Teniola transferred me to the City office located inside the bustling commercial center of Marina, Lagos, to assist the city editor, Feyi Smith with news coverage.

The absence of Fela was a sad emptiness in our music industry and everyday lives of the people of Nigeria. He was our constant voice that led our struggles for necessities of life: educated us, through his music on our rights as human beings and encouraged us to be fearless, demand our rights, and question our government, as disenfranchised and underprivileged people. The brave spokesman for the people had been seriously silenced by a military junta, determined to clean our society, with its 'War Against Indiscipline'. Fela was considered undisciplined.  Buhari and Idiagbon were committed to punishing and making him irrelevant. The band must play on!

And then came Ndubuisi Abdul (Okwechime), Fela’s protégée; creative, influential arts and features writer for the defunct Sunday Times. The best part, Abdul is from Onicha Ugbo, I travelled every Sunday late mornings, from my home at Mafoluku on the outskirts of Oshodi, to Idi-araba, where Ndubuisi lived with his brother. We would eat lunch and then leave for either Femi’s house at Bariga or Afrika Shrine at Pebble Street in Ikeja, depending on time and traffic. We were passionate about Afrobeat music and the Kutis. We wanted the music and its lifestyles to continue in the absence of Fela. We were determined to support Femi’s emerging music career. Femi assumed a temporary lead singer for his father’s Egypt 80 Band.

Femi was an exciting, terrific and energetic young musician. During these times as the frontman for  Egypt ’80 Band, (Lekan Animashaun was and to this day, the leader of Egypt '80 Band), Femi also formed his band, "Positive Force." Every day, he wrote songs and rehearsed his new compositions, in concert with his best friend and roommate, keyboardist, Dele Sosimi. Femi was also recording his debut. He was, no doubt, the heir apparent to the afrobeat music kingdom. Those days were his opportunity to step into the limelight and continue with the afrobeat music, culture and lifestyles created by his father. Femi refused to be identified as living in Fela’s shadow. 

He rejected the comparisons or narratives that he was following his father’s feet steps in music and performances. He wanted desperately an identity of his own. He hated being referred to as the heir apparent. It was early years of the pressure cooker and maturity. To prove that his music, identity and ideology, though similar to his dad’s, were still at variance, he worked hard, rehearsed every day, supported and encouraged by a blossomed family which included his grandma, his mother Remi, Sisters, Yeni and late  Sola, Dele Sosimi and that damn huge mean Black German Shepherd dog.

Femi’s hard work was distinct in his debut, MADNESS UNLIMITED. His afrobeat was fast tempo, laced with upbeat techno funk appeal. Fela's creation was traditional, native, evolutionary and polyrhythmic. During Sunday Jumps, Ndubuisi (Abdul) and I watched Femi’s performances and utterances, we would strategize on how to assist him in assuming the headline position. We also agreed that the opportunity to release his album was then.

One Monday morning, before the raining season in 1985, Abdul and I met at Bariga home of Femi. We decided that day to market Femi and his new music to record companies. We went to EMI on Oregun Road, Lagos and held hours of meetings with Frank Ifemesia Iferenta, the A& R manager and media relations for EMI. He told us unequivocally that EMI would not be interested in Femi’s music because of his father’s controversies and renegade lifestyle. Fela was bad news and bad business, especially then that he was in prison. Fela's charming characters and characteristics had trickled down on Femi at EMI. The sins of the father visited an innocent aspiring musician and young creative talent. 

We felt the disappointments in Femi’s face but shrugged off the first rejection. Welcome to show business, a cut-throat business. The crew decided to visit Polygram records that afternoon. As we drove along Ikorodu road, Femi asked we pulled under Anthony Village Bridge, to rewrite the lyrics to MADNESS UNLIMITED. We sat in the car and watched him wrote part of the song. I was in heavens. I didn’t know that Ndubuisi and I were witnessing the evolution of Afrobeat Music Empire.

While Fela served his 18 months sentence in Bama prison in Borno State prison, I became a regular visitor at Femi’s house in Bariga. The family adored and embraced me. Femi's mum, Remi sat on the couch early mornings or evenings, smoking a cigarette and always offered me a cup of tea. The family had this black wicked dog, a  German Shepherd; that disliked my visits. He barked as soon as he smelled my scents at the door. Femi would warn that I should be still, asked that I walked into the living room slowly while he pacified the dog by patting it. 

Foolish animal!

Remi promised that I was going to write her autobiography whenever she was comfortable and ready to tell all about her love and marriage to Fela. I never got that privilege to work with her. Dele Sosimi, skinny and smooth keyboardist was also living with the Kutis in Bariga. Femi and Dele were inseparable then. Femi, Sola, Yeni and I became very close like family. Yeni was experimenting with her new passion: fashion designs; specializing in Adire fabrics. She designed special clothes and made sure I wore them during visits, sometimes helping me to tuck in my shirts, like a caring big sister. She made sure I looked good whenever I visited. She and Sola were sisters watching over me.

Sundays were spectacular visits. Femi, Abdul and I caught cabs regularly from Bariga to the Afrika Shrine for Sunday Jumps. We built trust, dependency, and loyalty. Young, unconditional love, respect and one family love, that was how we connected. We were loyal, dedicated to the Afrobeat brand: the lifestyles of a pop culture, as its originator served out his jail sentence.

Thus, I understood why Femi drove to the Punch in 1986, to confirm if Fela had been released from prison after 18 months by the new military administration led by General Ibrahim Babangida. He told me he heard the broadcast on the national news on Federal Radio Corporation of Nigeria’s four 'o' clock news bulletin that Fela was ordered released, effective immediately. 

He didn’t want to believe it until he visited me at The Punch to confirm. I said "Yes” baba is coming home”... that night, he drove a long distance to bring his father home.

These were the living years I was privileged to share with a great son, an awesome musician and a dear friend who's turning fifty-four today. 

It seemed like yesterday. He is human. My purpose here is to capture those young wondering years when we sought definition, focus, and identity. Here, my dear friend. I am still trying to understand where yesterday went; it went very fast. Yekparikpa, yeyeyeyeyekparikpa yeyeyeye… Happy birthday, omo abami eda… I am privileged to belong to this generation as you.

***Continue this conversation at WWW.JEBOSEBOULEVARD.COM

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