For Professor Chike Obi
By Edwin Madunagu
Culled from:
Thursday, March 27, 2008
THE purpose of this short tribute to Professor Chike Obi, who died in
his hometown,
Born on April 7, 1921, he obtained a B.Sc. degree in Mathematics as
an external candidate. He also started the M.Sc. degree as an external
candidate before moving to the
I read somewhere that in Mathematics you cannot make a breakthrough,
that is, solve an existing problem or make a new discovery, after the
age of 35. After that age, you can only write books from your
experience. But Chike Obi made a breakthrough at the age of 78 by
providing a "simple proof", 10 pages long, to what is popularly known
as Fermat's Last Theorem. The theorem is called Fermat's last theorem,
not because it was the "last" theorem the 17th century French
mathematician, Pierede Fermat (1601-1665), formulated, but because it
was the only one of his many theorems whose proof remained elusive.
However, he indicated, in his notes, that the proof existed and that
he had worked it out.
Simply put, Fermat's last theorem is the impossibility of
generalising the Pythagoras theorem which every junior Secondary
School student is expected to know. More explicitly, the theorem says
that if you change the number 2 which appears in the Pythagoras
Theorem to n, where n is greater than 2, then there is no whole-number
solution. Not that you cannot find the solution, but that no solution
exists. That is the theorem Chike Obi, in retirement, solved in 1999,
not using computers and modern techniques, but using the methods and
techniques available to Fermat. So, Chike Obi's solution is superior
to other solutions, or claimed solutions.
I read somewhere that some mathematicians have said that Chike Obi's
solution contains some flaws found in some false solutions. Hence, his
solution is no solution! I laughed as I remembered an episode in the
career of Albert Einstein of the "relativity" fame. He had just
relocated to the
Through Chike Obi I saw the beauty of mathematics and the elegance of
its language. Incidentally I discovered the power and beauty of
Marxism almost at the same time: the first half of the 1970s. Chike
Obi was particularly challenged by Fermat's Last Theorem (the
non-existence of solutions to a deceptively innocent-looking equation)
because my teacher's main area of research in mathematics was the
existence of some classes of solutions to some classes of non-linear
differential equations of the second order. You need to see how he
"played around" with complicated equations, showing the existence or
non-existence of solutions and the qualitative properties (such as
periodicity, stability, and boundedness) of these solutions where they
exist. Why could he not establish the insolvability of a
simple-looking equation mischievously thrown at the world by a
secretive French mathematical genius? I am happy Chike Obi did it.
I said I would fill some gaps in the tributes I have so far read. The
first gap is in his political career. Most of the time Chike Obi was
either with the police, or in prison, or in court. The offence was
either sedition, incitement or defamation. But one particular arrest
that has not been mentioned - to the best of my knowledge - took place
in 1962. Chike Obi was one of the people arrested and detained with
Chief Obafemi Awolowo on the charge of treasonable felony. He was
later released for "want of evidence". I regret that I could not ask
Chike Obi whether, indeed, an attempt was made to overthrow the
Federal Government of Nigeria in 1962 and if he was, despite his
release, part of the plot.
I am still asking that question because my attitude to those accused
of treasonable felony and jailed was not, and is still not,
condemnatory. I had asked a similar question regarding Wole Soyinka's
alleged armed seizure of a radio station at
It is well known that many myths were built around Chike Obi's
intellect and his mathematical ability. Beyond these, however, were
jokes about his social life. Some of these jokes (mainly by students)
are true, some are exaggerated, and others simply untrue - just our
speculations about how he would have reacted to certain situations.
One of the true stories is this: It was one night in June 1973. The
M.Sc. written examination in Differential Equations was to take place
the following morning at the
I felt that night that I had read enough and deserved to "wind down".
So, together with a group of friends, I left the hostel for a
lower-middle-class bar at Yaba. We sat, not in the main drinking hall,
but in the open space behind the building and overlooking the lobby.
The beer had been served; my glass had even been filled, but I had not
taken even a sip. I was still adjusting my seat. Then I heard the
shout "Fatherland!" I looked and saw Chike Obi being greeted by
admirers in the lobby. Don't ask me what happened next. All I can say
is that I vanished. But not before saying "goodnight" to my bewildered
companions.
My colleague in that course was less than charitable when I told him
of my experience. He laughed and laughed and finally reconstructed
that experience into one of the jokes about Chike Obi. Ironically, not
long after this, my colleague had his own experience. He had gone one
night to a popular nightclub, again in Yaba. Not long after settling
down, the live band started playing Fela's "Open and Close". My friend
took to the floor. Just then he noticed, not too far from him, a
bespectacled tall man wearing "
It was after this second incident that I carefully studied Chike
Obi's movement outside his home. He usually arrived at the office
early in the morning. Between that time and when other offices opened,
he solved his Differential Equations. I also established that whenever
he returned to the office in the evening he usually moved from there
to town to "wind down". And I knew his usual joints. So, whenever I
was going out in the evening, I had to go to the department and check
if his K70 Volkswagen car was parked at the usual place. If it was
there, I would either cancel the outing or move farther afield.
But Chike Obi was not mean; in fact, he was the opposite. He was
intellectually hard and disciplined. But no other teacher of mine was
as tolerant of me as Chike Obi. For I was not a particularly
"obedient" student. I don't think he knew what a secret was. If you
told him something and requested that he should tell no one else, he
would wonder why you had told him. At the earliest opportunity he
would pass on the message. This attribute of his worked to my
advantage when I was in detention.