Interview
A Prayer From the Gutter
Türkçe’si için, buraya tıkla.
Nobody should know my name.
The fact that you’re reading this is proof of God’s grace.
My mother died when I was 2 or 3. Too young to remember anything except her holding me. Me and my 6 siblings lived in a one-room apartment in a shanty town in Lagos. It’s called Olusosun. You may have heard of it. It’s next to the biggest landfill in Africa. People say they drop off 10,000 tons of garbage a day there. Chemical waste. Broken TVs. Anything you can imagine.
That was my backyard.
When I started playing football and I wanted boots, I’d just go out into the dump with my friends and search.
“Hey, I found a broken Nike. Left foot! Size 8!”
(An hour later…….)
“Hey, I found a Puma!!!! Right foot!!!! Size 9!!!!!”
That was a lucky day. We had a pair of boots to share between us all.
Most of the families in our neighborhood re-sold scraps from the landfill, but my father was a driver when I was little. After my mom died, he lost his job and started washing dishes in a police department kitchen. It was not enough money to pay our rent. I remember one night when I was about 12, the landlord had enough. He cut off the power to our apartment. We were sitting in the dark in one room — all 7 of us — no TV. Nothing. I went outside and I sat down next to this gutter — literally, a gutter — and I started crying.
I looked up into the sky and I asked God, “What kind of life is this for a child???”
Around that time, I stopped playing football completely. I had to help my family put food on the table, you know? My sisters, they sold oranges. Not at a market, but on the street. In Lagos, there’s a lot of traffic, so you can make money waiting by the side of the road and running between the cars with food. I was really fast, so I was good at selling bottled water. I’d put a box of 12 on my head and wait for someone to beep for me. Then I’d sprint over to the car before the light turned green again.
I thought, “I’m going to be the fastest kid they’ve ever seen.”
I actually took pleasure in it. It was almost like training.
Some days I would come home so tired that I’d ask my sisters, “Can I just sell oranges with you tomorrow?”
My older brother Andrew, he actually had the hardest job. He would get up at 3 o’clock in the morning and sell the sports newspaper on the street. Sometimes he would bring home a paper and I’d see Drogba or Zlatan on the cover, and I would be in awe of them. It felt like they lived in another world. For me, football was just something I did when I was not working. Unfortunately, I was always working.
If there was money to be made, I was there. I even got on a TV show. It was like a family quiz show, and they called up people from the audience at the end. Thanks to God, I got called and I actually did really good. I won like 10,000 naira on live TV.
That was the most money I ever held in my hands before.
It was like €6.
The next day in school, my friends were kind of laughing at me.
“Bro, you were on TV last night! One day you’re in the street selling water. Then you’re on TV. Now you’re here? What the hell?”
But I didn’t care. I was a hustler. For a few years, I got this job working for a pastor in Lagos. A very famous one. He was even on TV. They had a little laptop at the church, and my job was to get people to give me their email for his newsletter. Every 10 emails, I got like the equivalent of 10 cents. Man, I was so good, I probably even got your email.
“Ehh?? What is this?? Victor got me again. Unsubscribe!!”
After a while, they promoted me, and I got to sell the pastor’s bible study books on the street. The one was called “Rhapsody of Realities.” My classmates would pass me on the street and laugh, like, “Now he’s selling Bibles??? What is going on???”
I told you. Hustler.
Everything I earned, I gave to my siblings to buy food and pay the rent. Most nights, I actually slept in the church. Our house barely had a roof. It was starting to cave in, and so the landlord said, “OK, I’ll fix it. Don’t worry.”
He sent some guys over, and they took half the roof off and never came back! (You know, I pray for everybody. I really do. Except for landlords. I always seem to forget them in my prayers.)
If you had a legal job for me, I would do it. My sister used to give me her old phones. You know the cracked, gross one? That was the one that would get passed to me. If you called my phone at 2 a.m. with a job, I’d pick up.
I even used to do soakaway work. You know the soakaway? In Europe, probably not. But in Africa, it’s like a dry well that you dig yourself. You need someone to go way down into the well on a ladder. And another guy stays up at the top. He’s the “safety guy.” He looks down into the hole, yelling, “You OK down there, brother?”
I was not the safety guy.
I was the other guy.
Hahahahah.
Dirty work, bro.
For almost two years, I only played football with the church team. Then when I was 15, I was playing with some friends, and somebody said, “Did you hear the Super Eagles are going to be in Lagos next week?”
I said, “Where? Give me an address.”
It was 90 minutes away on the bus, and I didn’t have any money. So I would hitchhike. In Lagos, we have these yellow vans called a danfo. They’re like a community bus. The drivers are crazy. And if you’re a kid, or you need a break, the drivers will let you just hop on and sit on somebody’s lap. You can fit 20 people in one van if you really try. So I would sit on somebody’s knees for 30 minutes and have them drop me at the next bus stop. Then the next stop. Then the next stop.
Danfo “surfing.”
I finally arrived at the stadium, and there must have been 300 kids there, just trying to get the Under-17 coaches to see them. There were so many kids that they couldn’t use a ball. They just had everybody run, and they would eliminate you if you were slow.
I ran for my life.
At the end of the day, they told me, “Come back tomorrow.”
And I ran for my life again.
It went on like this for months, and we finally got to play with a ball.
I was playing so amazing, too. I really thought that I had made it. After three months, there were about 30 of us left, and they told us, “Come tomorrow for the final trial.”
At the end of the training, they gathered us all together. Out of the 30, they called 27 names.
Only 3 were dropped.
I was one of those 3. Dream dead. I begged the coach for an answer.
He told me, “It’s just technical. I’m sorry.”
I remember riding the bus home on someone’s lap, and I started sobbing.
The guy said, “What’s wrong?”
I said, “It’s a long story.”
“But why are you crying?”
“I’m a footballer. Or I was trying to be.”
Most kids would have quit. But I was so deep in love with football that I couldn’t. I was training on my own, and months went by. Then one day somebody told me, “The national team is coming back to Lagos in two weeks.”
I said, “Whenever they arrive, call me.”
The day came, and I ran from my work, got on the bus, and went straight to the stadium. When I arrived….
600 kids. Everybody begging to get seen.
There were so many kids that Emmanuel Amunike, the coach, got on the microphone and said, “I cannot see all of you today. It’s impossible. We will be in Abuja in two weeks. If you KNOW you are good — REALLY good — then come to Abuja and see me.”
Abuja was 9 hours away by car. And I didn’t have a car. I knew this guy, who I guess you could call an agent. But like a neighborhood agent. I told him, “It’s over.”
Two weeks later, he called me and said, “I borrowed a car. Let’s go.”
I said, “Where are we going to stay?”
He said, “Don’t worry, I have a brother in Abuja.”
The morning before we were supposed to leave, I got so nervous. I had never left my town before. It was comfortable. Four hours went by, and the agent was calling me.
I told him, “Forget it. I’m not going nowhere. I’m cool here.”
And that’s when my father heard what was going on, and he said, “You need to go.”
There was no big speech. He just said, “You need to go.”
And I knew that he was right. I left home with a backpack and two pairs of clothes. The one I was wearing, and a green kit in my bag. Lucky green. We drove to Abuja in the oldest car you can imagine, and we arrived at midnight.
The next morning, the sun came up, and I saw 1 million kids with a dream.
Maybe 1 million is an exaggeration, but not by much. There must have been 900 kids waiting outside this stadium. The first day, I didn’t even get on the pitch. The second day, one of the coaches finally pointed at me.
“Green shirt. Let’s go. You have 15 minutes.”
Just 15 minutes to change my life. I knew that the only way to impress them was to run. So I ran until I was sweating blood.
I ended up scoring 2 goals in 15 minutes.
I thought that maybe I had a chance. But then the coaches got on a microphone, and they addressed the crowd. They called out some names, and I did not hear my name. Everybody started walking to the parking lot.
My dream was dead. I was just about to get in the car when I heard people shouting.
“Hey! Hey! The guy in green!”
Huh???
I turned around, and some kids were waving to me.
I pointed to my chest, like in the movies.
Me???
I looked behind me.
“The guy in green!”
Lucky green.
I ran back over to them, and they said, “Hey, the coach wants to see you. The team doctor told him you were the guy who scored two goals. Are you the guy?”
I said, “I’m the guy!!! I’M THE GUY!!!!”
I went back into the stadium and the doctor was pointing at me and holding up two fingers.
He said, “That’s the kid.”
Two fingers saved me.
If the team doctor didn’t do that, I would not be a footballer today. I would probably be at the bottom of a well.
15 minutes to change my life. I knew that the only way to impress them was to run. So I ran until I was sweating blood.
– Victor Osimhen
Still, the trials went on and on. If you had “made it” then you stayed with the team at a hotel. But I was still staying with my agent’s brother at his house. I was helping take their kids to school and washing up. I remember I was so shy that I didn’t understand that the food that his wife was putting on the table was supposed to be for me. I came home from training, and I saw the food and I thought it was leftovers. I would break off a piece of bread and take it out behind the house and eat it in secret.
One day, his wife was cooking and she said, “What’s wrong? You don’t like my food?”
I said, “It’s for me???”
She said, “What? Yes, of course! You must be starving!”
When I finally made it onto the team for real, and they gave me a bed in the hotel, I told her, “Thank you. You saved me. I will always pray for you. You’re family to me now.”
My life changed so fast. The next year, we went to play in the U-17 World Cup in Chile, and I exploded. I scored 10 goals in 7 games and won the Golden Boot. We were world champions. Nobody expected it. Even I did not expect it. I remember when I came back from the World Cup, they gave me a little bit of money. I was finally a millionaire, but in naira unfortunately. Hahahah. So a few thousand Euros. I called my sisters and said, “I am moving you all from a one-room house to a two-room house. Everything is taken care of. All I ask from you is to include me in your prayers.”
A few years later, I signed for Wolfsburg and I was blessed with more money than I ever saw in my dreams. I remember I was refreshing the bank app on my phone. Refresh. Still poor. Refresh. Still poor. Refresh…… and the number changed. The number got big. It looked fake. I was going nuts. Literally, I was jumping around going nuts.
Two years before that, I was selling water bottles for 10 cents.
On a good day I’d make maybe $2.
Now I saw a million. On my phone.
I wiped my eyes.
Am I dreaming?
Refresh. Refresh. Refresh.
No, it’s real.
I got on my knees and I thanked God.
I called up my father, and I said, “You don’t have to worry about paying the landlord anymore. I am making you the landlord now.”
I even got a driver for my father. He was getting older, and he had heart problems. But he was so proud that he told me, “What do I need this for? I was a driver! Keep your money!”
I said, “But this person needs a job too.”
He said, “OK. Fine. I will keep him close to me, and you can pay him. But I’ll drive myself.”
He would drive around with the driver in the passenger seat, like his sidekick. All he wanted to do was to hang out at the police station with his old buddies.
When I moved from Wolfsburg to Lille a few years later, his health started failing. I was away all the time. Then during the beginning of COVID, he went into the hospital. I was stuck in France, all alone. Football was shut down. The airports were shut down. I was calling my agent, trying to arrange a private flight to Nigeria. I even got clearance from the aviation authority to land. I just needed the club and my agent to say I could leave.
I was waiting, waiting, waiting.
He was getting worse.
So I started panicking. I was calling every hour, begging them.
But that’s when I started to understand the dark side of football. The business. They wanted to sell me, you see? They were discussing a transfer. So my former agent kept telling me, “Well, it’s complicated. Just wait. Just wait.”
I was going crazy. I couldn’t sleep. One morning, I woke up and I left my phone downstairs to take a shower. I’ll never forget, I got out of the shower …. and I had a picture of my mother next to my bed, always. I looked at the picture, and I just got a feeling. I started crying. I thought: Something is wrong. Something is so wrong.
I went downstairs and I had 20 missed calls from my family. I called my brother back on FaceTime, and he said, “He’s gone.”
Then he turned the camera and showed me my father.
“You should say goodbye….”
I remember I threw the phone and I just went crazy. I tore up the entire house. Smashed everything. I was out of my mind. The noise made my neighbors come over to check on me, and I love my neighbors. They were like family to me when I was alone in France. The guy was trying to calm me down, telling me that there’s so much to live for.
For 5 or 6 hours, he stayed with me, and he probably stopped me from doing something stupid.
I just felt so guilty, because all of his children and grandchildren were there with him.
Only one person was not by his side. Me.
I was so angry. I snapped.
I thought, If this is football, then what is the point? I just want to be with my family.
I called my former agent, and I said, “Can I go bury my father?”
He said, “Go ahead. But come back Friday.”
I thought, “Friday? To hell with football.”
When I flew back home, I really thought that maybe I would never play football again. I was so disgusted with everything.
I tell people all the time “I have seen it all, bro. I have really seen it all.”
They don’t understand what I mean when I say this.
I am not talking about just growing up next to a landfill.
I am not talking about growing up with no lights.
I am talking about really losing. It goes very deep.
When I left Lille, I was lost.
When I came to Napoli, I was found. I really have to thank the city and the fans and my teammates for turning my life around. I remember the first meeting I had when I arrived, I told the coach, Mr. Spalletti, “I am not well. I am very angry right now. Very sad. My head is not straight.”
But he was like a father to me. When I wasn’t doing something right, he came for my neck. But he believed in me deep in his soul, I swear. He thought I could be the best in the world.
I would score 2 goals in a game, he’d come to me in the dressing room and go head-to-head with me. When he wanted to tell you something, he would put his head very close to yours and almost whisper….
“Cazzo!! You could have scored 4 today. I will show you the video tomorrow.”
It’s funny, because after I came in, we had lost the old guard. Koulibaly, Insigne, Mertens all left. But that 2022–2023 season, we had brought in Kvara, Raspa, and Kim Min-jae and everyone thought, “Oh! This is interesting….”
We started the season playing so magnificent that I always tell people that grandmothers started showing up at the training ground. In Napoli, the better you are doing, the older the people you see at the training ground. At first, just the ultras. The young. Then it’s the young and their fathers. Then it’s the son, the father and the grandfather. But then in Napoli, when you’re at the top of the table, all of a sudden the grandmothers start showing up in wheelchairs.
Saying, “I am praying for you, son.”
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to play like Maradona. Because no one can play like him. We just want you to run and sweat for the badge.”
I remember we were 8 points up in the league, and we started thinking “OK, we got it.”
It’s only natural. We never joked around in training because Mr. Spalletti doesn’t allow it. But this one day we were feeling cocky, and we were playing a small-sided game, and guys were falling down, exaggerating, screaming, “Free kick! Ref! Hey!” Just to make everybody laugh.
Spalletti stopped the game and told the assistants, “Take away the goal posts!”
They’re looking at him like, “What?”
“Take them away!!!!”
We ran for 30 minutes with no ball.
The next day at training, we’re laughing in the dressing room again.
We went to the pitch …. no balls.
“Run.”
“But mister….”
“Run until I say stop!!!!!”
“Mister, please….”
“Run!!!!!”
We all go to the captain, Di Lorenzo, and he says, “Guys, what can I tell you?”
So we apologize to the manager, and we are practically on our knees, and he says nothing.
“Cazzo!!!!!! Run!!!!!”
We did not see a ball for two days.
When we saw that beautiful football again, we could have cried tears of happiness.
Nobody ever told a joke again.
We couldn’t even complain, because Mr. Spalletti was sleeping in his office during that time. He had a little bed set up. Like in the army. He had a wife at home, but for five months, he slept there.
I remember before big matches he would tell us, “You guys don’t understand what will happen if you win the title. Me? They might speak about me for 2 or 3 years. But you players, they will speak about you until you are old men.”
Everybody always asks me about the goal that I scored on the final day, to secure the Scudetto. Well, it was a goal. It was incredible. But we were playing away. It did not sink in what happened, and what we had achieved until we went back to the city, and we saw the emotion of the people. It cannot be put into words. The closest I can tell you is this…….
Right before we won the Scudetto, there was a crowd of fans outside our training ground. I stopped my car to shake their hands, and a guy was there with his son holding up his phone. He wanted to show me a video. It was a video from when Maradona was there in the ’80s. The guy didn’t speak any English. He had tears in his eyes.
I said, “What is he saying?”
Someone else came over to translate.
He said, “For 1,000 years they will remember you. When we are all dust, they will remember you.”
This is why I play football, for this feeling.
To win a title is one thing. But to win a Scudetto for Napoli for the first time in 33 years is true history.
This is why I choose the teams that I choose.
When I left Napoli, do you know how many people told me, “Do not go to Turkey. Are you crazy?”
A former agent even told me, “No, no, no. Don’t go there. It’s not a smart move.”
But I think with my heart. I wanted to play for Galatasaray. How can I go from the emotion of NHow can I go from the emotion of Napoli to just any club? Impossible. Boring.
I wanted to go to a top 3 club in the world in terms of passion. Those are the kind of people who really understand me. The ones who live football in a different way.
When I spoke to Okan Buruk on the phone, before I signed, he told me, “I’m here to tell you that I personally, as a person and as a coach and as a father, I want you in my club. And I know these fans will love you a lot. Even when you’re going through a hard time, this club is the one that is going to back you.”
Before stepping on the plane to Turkey, I put everything in the hands of God.
When the flight landed, there were 3,000 Gala fans waiting for me in the middle of the night. At a private airport. They were tracking my flight! The people welcomed me with open arms. That feeling is worth more than money.
If you don’t believe me, just ask van Dijk. I was speaking to him after our Champions League match against Liverpool and he said, “Man, what kind of atmosphere is this!?”
I said, “Brother, to be honest, if I never came here and someone just told me about it, I wouldn’t believe it.”
Prayers From the Gutter
When I came here, everyone said, “What is he doing? Why does he want Galatasaray?”
Well, if you know my story, you already know the answer to that question. When I won the Golden Boot at the U-17 World Cup, some reporter asked me, “You have come from nowhere. Now everybody knows your name. What do you want to achieve?”
My answer now is the same as it was 15 years ago, when I was in the trenches.
Greatness.
I want to be an inspiration for the kids who grew up like me. There are millions of us. The kids who have to work for their next meal. Selling water in traffic. Digging through the landfill for something to scrap. Hustling. Dreaming. Praying…..
What gives me happiness is not money. Definitely not fame — it’s actually really boring, to be honest.
What gives me bliss is going back home to Nigeria, or walking on the street in Istanbul, and I am just wearing my hoodie like normal, and I am still ME.
I can talk to all the kids and say “Hey, I was you. A kid with one Nike and one Puma. A size 8 and a size 9.”
By the grace of God, I made it.
Let my story be proof to those kids.
You can start out in the gutter, and still……………. and still…..
Your name can be on their lips for 1,000 year
s.
Culled from The Players’ Tribune
An interview with Dr Joseph Itoto-Ogodo, The Ogiribo 1 of Amu-Ogodo, Sapele.
Retired Police Inspector Joseph Itoto Ogodo, who was among the crack team of Police detectives that arrested the notorious robbery kingpins of the ‘70s, Ishola Oyenusi; and Mighty Joe in Lagos, turns 88 years. Pa Ogodo tells Adibe Emenyonu how the two gangsters and their cohorts were arrested. He also speaks about his career in the police force
You are now 88 years old. Can you tell us about your early life?
I was born on April 27, 1934 in Sapele in present day Delta State. I attended First Baptist School, Sapele from 1944 to 1952 where I had my Standard Six Certificate. From there I proceeded to Abbot Commercial institute between 1953 and 1955. I worked briefly with the sawmill department of the African Timber and Plywood (ATP) from 1955 to 1958. I had a brief stint as a Revenue Collector at the then Sapele Urban District Council. That was from 1958-1959. After that I enlisted into the Nigeria Police Force in 1959 and went to Police College, Yaba, Lagos. Thereafter, I was posted to the Criminal Investigation Department (CID).
From all indications you spent most of your career with the police in Lagos. Why?
This was because I was in the Criminal Investigation Department (CID). At that time, Lagos was the capital of the Southern Protectorate before it became the capital of Nigeria in 1959. With this, there was an influx of people both young and old to Lagos. This large movement of people into the new capital triggered several criminal activities that needed police investigation, being the capital of a new nation.
This, of course, was not enough to have made the force keep you for such a long time in Lagos. There must be something unique. Can you tell us what it was?
I agree with you. There were several incidents of crime and criminality, but we had two major breakthroughs which may have necessitated my long stay in Lagos, though I also found myself in other states and cities outside Lagos, but only on criminal investigation. Because of the increasing cases of armed robbery and burglary, the then Commissioner of Police, Joseph Adeola constituted a Special Anti-Robbery Squad made up of a team of detectives headed by a Superintendent of Police who was popularly called the ‘Flying Policeman.’ He got the sobriquet because he was a good sprinter and athlete. So when you hear SARS, it is not new. It has been in existence. It was founded many years ago. So he formed the squad known as SARS to investigate the numerous cases of robbery in Lagos.
There was this very robbery incident where a young police constable who was just six months in the service was shot dead at Ikeja. It was in connection with a company called Wahum, owned by one of these Asian countries on Allen Avenue. The company went to seek police protection to help convey their staff’s monthly salary. So a constable was assigned to accompany the staffers to the bank to withdraw the cash. He then escorted them back. Coming back from the bank to the company, the security man was hesitant to open the gate for them to drive in. This angered the police constable on escort duty and he went to meet the gateman to ask him why he was causing delay to open the gate for the vehicle to drive in. At that point, armed robbers opened fire and killed him on the spot, while the remaining bank officials scampered for safety into the company premises. The robbers went straight to the vehicle, a Citroen, and fired at the booth, got it open and took the cash box containing £10,000 meant for workers salary and drove off in another waiting car.
The matter was reported to the police. We had what was called the Lion Building in Lagos, housing the control room. The control room then called the Robot Cars (cars fitted with communication gadgets to look out for the robbers. Prior to this robbery incident, there was a reported case of car snatching along Ikorodu Road. A young man was robbed of his car at gunpoint. Upon investigation, it was discovered that the snatched car was the same one used to get away by the robbers at the Wahum gate. While investigation was still on after some arrests were made, the police learnt the leader of the robbery gang was Ishola Oyenusi who had been on police wanted list.
It was at this time that the then CP constituted an X-squad from the SARS and made available a separate police station for them at Panti in Onikan area of Lagos. This time, all the policemen there were asked to go to other divisions for the X-squad to enable them handle all robbery cases without interference. So as a member of that squad, we were moved to Panti and began the investigation. We were a 10-member investigative team headed by one Superintendent of Police (SP) Oyebisi who hailed from Ibadan then the capital of Western State.
In the course of investigation, we knew that members of the robbery gang came from different parts of the country, which first made the investigation cumbersome. Some were from the West, some from the Midwest, while some were from the East. But we were determined to do our duty. In the robbery gang was an Ijebu boy who happened to be the driver in all their robbery operations. There was also a member of the gang called Diokpa who, as gathered, was their armourer and in whose house the proceeds of each robbery was shared. While carrying out further investigation, we got all the gang members and accomplices arrested, including the Administration Officer of Wahum company. All of them gave us useful information.
The only person at large was their leader Oyenusi. In fact, they were the ones who revealed to us that Oyenusi was their leader. We didn’t know him nor had any of us set eyes on him. We were also told that it would be difficult to arrest him because he was always armed to the teeth. That he had a lot of charms in his possession. However, through further inquiries, it was revealed that Oyenusi was from Araromi in Okitipupa, now in Ondo State. We then had to embark on a journey to his home town through Epe boatyard. On getting to Araromi, Okitipupa, we were told that yes Oyenusi was from there but that for years they had not set eyes on him because he left the town long ago. We were in the town for three days and there was no further clue as to how to get him.
Somehow, information filtered to us that he was seen somewhere in Ibadan. Our team quickly mobilised and moved to Ibadan and succeeded in getting him through a commercial sex worker he usually patronised.
Tell us, how Oyenusi was eventually arrested?
Unfortunately for him, he was not armed when we saw him in the street of Ibadan. When he saw us, he started running and that was when we suspected he was the target and we started pursuing him. While we were chasing him, our leader, who incidentally was a native of Ibadan, began to shout saying “Egbami’o” (save me) the man running has been killing my people. At that point, everyone around joined in the pursuit and he was eventually arrested. To ensure he does not escape, he was first handcuffed and then tied with a marine rope inside a Land Rover jeep and taken to Lagos. The arrest was made on May 7, 1971.
We then contacted the control room in Lagos that Oyenusi had been arrested. In turn, the control room notified the Commissioner of Police, Joseph Adeola that the dare devil Oyenusi was in the police net. While on our way back to Lagos we were in constant touch with Lagos until we arrived.
We learnt he made some comments when he got to the Lion Building. Can you recall what he said?
Yes! He told the CP, “your men have tried but they are lucky I was not armed by the time they tried arresting me, otherwise I would have killed them.” These were his exact words. He also disclosed that when we were going through Epe boatyard to Okitipupa to look for him, he was in the boat that left earlier. He said he suspected we were policemen and decided to disembark on the next boatyard station. He said he saw four men and suspected they were policemen, but could not open fire in such a crowded place. This was true because by the time we got to the Epe boatyard, the boat driver told us it was filled up and that we should wait for the next boat. That was when we missed him because he was in that boat. Again, we didn’t know him. But in the course of investigation when we met him he said he recognised us at the boatyard and so had to get off at the next boat station knowing fully well that we were on our way to his hometown, which was also his destination, to look for him.
Was the method of interrogation voluntary or forceful?
It was voluntary, because we adopted persuasive appeals to extract useful information from them and also assured them all will be fine if they cooperate with us. It was then Oyenusi confessed that he never knew we could arrest him and bring him to justice. So he then gave names of those who were involved in the Wahum robbery and the role played by each of them, as well as other robbery operations they carried out in the past. He disclosed that the gateman of the company was aware of the robbery operation through the Administrative Officer of the company and that was why he deliberately delayed opening the gate. He told us that they also took the rifle of the dead police constable. He took us to the place where they threw the rifle away. It was a Mark-4 and we recovered it. From then, we became friendly with them because we never exercised any form of brutality. At this stage, we had to call for all the files concerning all the robbery cases he mentioned to see if we could get more persons arrested.
Before the arrest and prosecution of Oyenusi and his gang, did any of your team of investigators know who they were?
No, until the Wahum incident. It was in the course of interrogation that all of them confessed the role they played. Even the gateman told us he was made to play the hesitant role so as to get the attention of the Constable to come down and ask questions, since he was the only one that was armed. Also, the Admin officer confessed how he got the security man involved so that the operation would be smooth.
How many of the convicts faced death sentence by fire squad?
They were eight in number. So at the end, a case of armed robbery, murder was established against the eight involved to face firing squad. Before the firing was carried out, the then Military Governor of Lagos State, Brigadier Mobolaji Johnson signed the Execution Warrant and they were tied to stakes and executed by firing squad.
What was the scenario like on that day of execution?
There was a mammoth crown from all parts of Lagos and beyond that came to watch the execution. There was a 16-man squad and a commanding officer. Two soldiers to each of the convicted robbers. After the firing, it was discovered that Oyenusi was still alive while others were dead. A medical doctor who went round to ensure they were dead was the one who informed that Oyenusi was still alive and the commanding officer asked all the 16 men to concentrate on Oyenusi until his head dropped and he was confirmed dead.
What can you tell us about Mighty Joe’s arrest and prosecution?
Another incident was that of a man called Mighty Joe, a native of Kwara, living in Lagos then. He was tall, had a very broad chest with a tiny waist like a lion. He was a terror involved in many cases that had to do with robbery and assault. Whenever he did not rob, he went about harassing commercial sex workers, hoteliers and bar owners who pay royalty to him and members of his gang to stay in business, otherwise any refusal would be met with stiff penalty. In all this, he had a way of escaping from the long arm of the law, because he was reputed to have connections in high places, including high government officials. With this, he feels untouchable and above the law to the extent that he was never arrested or prosecuted when he was fingered in the case which involved the killing of a Lebanese businessman in Lagos. Anytime Mighty Joe wanted to cool off he went to any drinking joint with his gang to drink without paying. Same thing he did to sex workers, hoteliers anytime he developed the urge without paying and no one dared to ask questions.
So how did he meet his waterloo?
To God be the glory, it was on a weekend when he drove his Peugeot 404 car to a drinking joint. On that fateful day, he was driving at Ikorodu road to have fun at Caban Bamboo, owned by Bobby Benson. On his way, he decided to stop over at a drinking joint at Mushin junction of Ikorodu road to have some bottles of beer before proceeding to his destination. The server attended to him and he drank four bottles of beer. After that he stood up and went to his car to drive off but the attendant politely told him Sir, you have not paid for the four bottles of beer you drank. Mighty Joe became infuriated, asking him where he got the boldness to ask him to pay for the beer he drank, and if he did not know who Mighty Joe was. To cut a long story short, he descended on the attendant and beat him black and blue. Not only that, he went to the counter and collected all the day’s proceeds and drove off afterwards. When the bar owner came back to see his attendant in such a sorry state, he asked him what happened, and he narrated how Mighty Joe beat him up and collected all the sales for the day.
The owner of the place, an Esan man, swore that this was the very last time he would tolerate the bully behaviour of Mighty Joe. He went straight to the CP and reported the case. This time, some police officers were drafted and the CP assigned the case to a senior police officer called Oloko who in turn liaised with our investigative team and Mighty Joe was arrested and detained. After investigation, his case was referred to the DPP for legal advice and they established that he had a case to answer. The trial began and he was sentenced to death by Justice T. S. Gomez-led tribunal. During his trial, Mighty Joe spoke in Yoruba language telling Justice Gomez “Ose’o”. So each time his defence counsel raised any objection to exonerate his client, the judge would overrule him, and Mighty Joe would exclaim: “Ose’o am not surprised.” Not only that, Mighty Joe was in the habit of quarreling with his counsel.
On every court day, a lady I supposed was his wife would meet the counsel to inquire of the court proceedings. But each time Mighty Joe sighted her speaking with the lawyer, he would scream at the lawyer from the Black Maria that he was going to kill him when he comes out because he wants to take his wife from him. At the end of the trial he was found guilty. Before reading his judgement, Gomez, who was bespectacled, removed his pair of glasses and looked at Mighty Joe in the dock and said: “This is my judgement. The evidence adduced by the prosecutor cannot be swept under the carpet. The prosecutor proved his case beyond any reasonable doubt. The defence of the accused person is nothing to write home about. The tribunal therefore sentence you to death by firing squad.” Thereafter, the governor signed the death warrant and he was executed by firing squad.
On the eve of his execution he had a premonition of it. He told us in the morning that he had a dream where he was feeling very sad and that he feared something bad was going to happen to him but we told him there was nothing to fear and that all was well. Eventually when the Black Maria drove to his cell to fetch him he exclaimed: “I said it.” At about 9:00am of that same day on Radio Lagos, it was announced that Mighty Joe was going to be executed. Before we got to the Bar Beach many people had besieged the place, mostly those people he had one way or another wronged and who had suffered one humiliation or the other in the hands of Mighty Joe.
Have you by any means had contact with any member of your team?
Honestly, for almost 20 years now, I have not heard from any of them. We used to interact when I was in Lagos, but since then honesty I don’t know. Some may still be alive and some may have died but I have not seen or heard from any of them.
Can one say you may probably be the last man standing among the team?
Most likely but I still don’t know.
At the end of it all, was there no form of compensation by the police authority to your team for a job well done?
There was compensation. The Inspection General of Police, Kam Selem gave us a commendation letter and £10, which was a lot of money then. The commendation letter was dated December 1st, 1971.
As a man who saw it all, what message do you have for the younger generation?
Especially to the younger generation, they should learn to live exemplary lives. In my case, the bicycle and motorcycle (Suzuki) I rode were from the loan I collected from the police. Not from bad money but money deducted from my salary every month till I finished paying. What will be will be. For instance, when I was at Alagbon, I went for a course test. I did very well. As a matter of fact, I came first but was not considered because I could not grease the palm of the officer who will recommend those of us who passed for a training course in England. This was in 1963. Eventually the colonialists, who believed in merit, had all gone and our brothers were in charge and they took the man who came 7th position because he could afford what they wanted. So having served creditably well and never considered for promotion to other higher ranks, I had to put up a letter for voluntary retirement in 1982.
How do you compare the attitude of policemen during your time to what we have now?
Policemen during my time were service-conscious than what we have today. What we are seeing in this country was never so before. In those days, if you traveled to a distant land and got there late, you could go to a police station to seek accommodation, but that cannot happen now. There was this incident when I was detailed to invite somebody to the police station for a matter. When I got there, he attacked me. Even though I was with my service rifle, I was not tempted to shoot him. But can that happen today? So, the police then were much better in those days than what we have today. There are lots of variances. That is why you see a police man who just joined the force today and tomorrow, he will want to own a car, big mansion. The rate of corruption is higher now than before. That is why today, a police man who is supposed to be your friend and provide security turns around to attack the very citizen he ought to protect.
Given the regrets you mentioned, aren’t you fullfiled?
Says who? Am quite happy. I am happy that I am still alive. I thank God for that. I have children who are doing well. All my eight children are all graduates. My eldest son’s first daughter, who happened to be my first grandchild, just got a scholarship to do her Masters degree in Harvard. So what else do I want that God has not given me? Though I lost my wife some years back, I refused to remarry. So, I am happy and thank God for it. You see as I said earlier, what will be will be. In 1999 long after my retirement, I got a warrant to travel to England to give evidence in a particular matter which began while I was still in service. I had correspondence with the British High Commission in London. All the documents were forwarded to me through the High Commissioner in Lagos. They sent a warrant and on the 23rd of June 1999. I left the shores of Nigeria to England. On arrival, I went to the Royal Court to testify. I was to stay for six months or even extend my stay if I so wished but I left and came back on the 15th of December same year.
This was the same place I was deprived of going in 1963 but had the opportunity to go. I don’t know whether it had anything to do with the police but I still went. This was why I said what will be will be. I am satisfied and happy.