Reconfiguring the Complexities of Omafume Onoge�s Life:
A Funeral Tribute
By Peter Ekeh
Omafume Onoge was a well-sized man. He was also a multifaceted
person. The Urhobo, Onoge�s people, love to liken men of his stature
and complexity to elephants. Elephants disappeared from the Urhobo
countryside where they once freely roamed centuries ago � as did such other famed beasts as lions and hippopotamuses. Of
those powerful animals that have become extinct from Urhoboland�s
physical environment, none has dwelt in Urhobo folk imagination as
forcefully as the elephant. Men of stature, grace, and wisdom easily
offer themselves for comparison with the proverbial elephant in Urhobo
rites.
So it is that when Omafume Friday Onoge is laid to rest on August 28,
2009, in his beloved native village of Ugborikoko in Uvwie, the youth
will remember him by singing that ritually nuanced Urhobo refrain:
Onogę ke eni, eh he eni, eh he eni; Onogę ke eni. eh he eni, eh he eni. In English this verse renders
roughly as follows: �Onoge is like the elephant, Onoge is like the
elephant; yes indeed, Onoge is like the elephant.�
It is doubtful that any English translation will fully capture from
this refrain connotations of wisdom and strength of Onoge�s
accomplishments in the span of a dynamic life. It is more likely,
though, that the elephantine metaphor will convey the sheer complexity
of Omafume Onoge�s life story. That complexity is already reflected in
the numerous tributes and comments that have surfaced since his death
on July 12, 2009.
Most of the tributes to this remarkable man have been by people who
knew Onoge as a graduate student of Anthropology at Harvard University
in the 1960s; as a university teacher in the Faculty of Social
Sciences at the University of Ibadan from 1969 until the late 1970s;
and as a teacher at the University of Jos, as well as the Dean of that
university�s Graduate School, from the early 1980s until the early
2000s. Others have touched on his rich contributions since his
retirement from the academy and his resettlement to his native village
of Ugborikoko. Most of his years in universities, both as a student
and as a teacher, witnessed Omafume Onoge choosing the ideals of
socialism in preference to the advertised barbarities of capitalism.
Within the Marxist vocation, in which he pitched his camp with Ola Oni
and Bade Onimode at Ibadan, Onoge was sometimes suspicious of Soviet
Cold War advocacies and was far more attracted to China�s Maoist
teachings of liberation from the torments and tortures of
institutional oppression.
Those who saw in Onoge a passion for taking sides with the oppressed
are right in their judgment. As one of those who paid glowing tributes
to him so correctly phrased this point, Onoge attempted to be the
voice of the voiceless. In this matter, he was wholly sincere. Onoge
was often offended by rulers and scholars who professed to be Marxists
but then pursued oppressive policies that took away the humanity of
those who had no means of adequately responding to acts of domination
and intimidation.
How would Omafume Onoge react to these tributes, if he were around to
evaluate them? He would gladly accept them, with gratitude. But he
would caution that they were only fractions of his complicated life.
Perhaps phrasing his response in Marxist imagery, Omafume might say
that such characterization touched on his mid-life and beyond it, but
that it has left out the story of how he got there. As an
anthropologist, Omafume Onoge might well say that these tributes have
largely focused on his urban activities. There was a deep rural side
that must not be left out of the picture of his complex life.
For this side of Omafume Onoge, I offer myself as a witness. Some
nine months before his death, I phoned Omafume to ask him if he knew
Chief L. U Ighomrore, an Uvwie chieftain who contributed enormously to the history of
Urhobo College. He bellowed into a huge laughter, saying, �Without Pa
Ighomrore, there would be no Omafume Onoge for you to make friends
with.� Onoge then proceeded to tell an amazing story of how he gained
admission into Urhobo College. He was a bright kid in a primary school
in Uvwie, near Warri, that had given land to Urhobo Progress Union to
build Urhobo�s national secondary school in the late 1940s. Ighomrore was one of the early employees of the College. In 1951,
Omafume sat for the entrance examination to the College. In the midst
of the examination, a bout of malarial fever, which he thought he
could contain, broke loose, forcing him to leave the examination hall
to vomit. He was taken home by relatives.
Thereafter, Omafume settled on rubber-tapping. Then one morning, a
messenger came to him at the rubber plantation telling him to come
home on his father�s orders. On getting home, his father asked him to
change into his school uniform so that he could repeat the entrance
examination with some other Uvwie boys on that day. He told his father
that he did not have money to pay for the required examination fee.
His father then informed Omafume that Mr. Ighomrore had already paid
the fee. The rest is history. Omafume Onoge was admitted into Urhobo
College where he performed brilliantly, enabling him to gain a
Kennedy-era ASPAU scholarship to study in American Universities.
Omafume�s father and his native village were to play another critical
role in Omafume�s life journey. He did return from the United States
and was teaching with his Harvard Ph.D. in the Department of Sociology
at the University of Ibadan. Academically, he was doing quite well.
But he was also a Marxist, which offended certain chieftains of the
Federal Government. When General Olusegun Obasanjo became Head of
State, he could not tolerate these Marxists. And so Onoge and his
comrades were sacked from the University of Ibadan for their beliefs.
Onoge�s associates could rely on their spouses and relatives to
survive in the city of Ibadan. Beyond a much-used Peugeot and stacks
of books, Onoge had nothing else that would enable him to survive at
Ibadan. He was forced to return back to his native village of
Ugborikoko in Urhoboland. His father was already old and could not
help him other than offering his son family lands for farming.
So, Omafume Onoge � with a Ph.D. from Harvard, famed for brilliantly
winning debates against mighty opponents � sharpened his cutlass and
went back to the farm for sheer survival. He developed a large cassava
farm. He later got a part-time job at the State University at Abraka �
although it was doubtful that the authorities in the Federal
Government were aware of this little arrangement to help the refugee
scholar to survive. It was in the course of his farm work in his
native village that he came across a dark-complexioned beautiful girl
from the neighbouring Uvwie town of Ekpan. She became the love of his
life. When finally the Federal Government regained its senses and
rescinded its brash dismissal of Onoge and other Marxists, he moved to
the University of Jos with his young wife who studied Law at Jos and
practiced Law in that city.
I am sure that my friend, Omi, would want these memories to be
reflected in the story of survival and triumph that he lived. In the
end he triumphed. He died a hero of his village of Ugborikoko and his
sub-cultural unit of Uvwie. He is also a hero of the Urhobo people who
regarded Omafume as a man who put the interests of his people before
his own. Outside Urhoboland, Omafume Onoge is widely admired in a
country in which the corruption of the elite has eaten deep into their
reputation. Outside of Nigeria, his scholarly contributions are well
celebrated.
Did Omafume have any regrets? That might be an unfair question to ask
some who passed away. I am confident that it is a question that
Omafume would want to answer. In the first place, in spite of the pain
that they caused him, he never disavowed his socialist beliefs. He
loved humanity and he believed that those socialist ideas enhanced our
common humanity and were worth fighting for. So, what would he regret?
First and foremost: that cancer took his wife away from him. In many
ways, the premature death of his charming wife inflicted an
unimaginable pain on Omafume. But he became even a better father to
their four children after his wife�s untimely death. There is
something else that it pained him to discuss. He once told me that he
would want to repair the damage and unfairness that were done to his
progeny from his first marriage. Illness barred him from exploring
that dream.
At the end, Omafume Onoge was a man of struggles. He lived to
overcome many odds. He must be a happy man at the end of a life that
was a catalogue of triumphs over excruciating odds. He will be laid to
rest by co-villagers with whom he grew up in Ugborikoko. I salute my
good friend for a life so well lived.
Omafume, I wish You Good Night and Eternal Rest.
Omi, gbe to odę o!
Peter P. Ekeh
Professor
Department of African and
African-American Studies
State University of New York, Buffalo.
August 18, 2009