GCI AS A LEVELLER

Even the youngest of us in 1965 turned Diamond well ahead of 2015. But by the timeless ticking clock and ageless calendar of GCI, we are all only fit to be Golden...and Boys for that matter. It's fifty years since we entered the Great School, and that's all that matters now. We may be in our 60s, have become GrandPas or even choose to call ourselves Boyz, but Boys we will forever remain by the evergreen traditions of GCI.

GCI has often been described as a school for the privileged, but in reality, it was nothing of the sort. The only privilege conferred was the cerebral ability of its students, properly tested and validated. Nothing more. The Great School was indeed more of a leveller.

And this was demonstrated from the very beginning. The entry level process was the most even, competitive, transparent and rigorous talent-spotting exercise ever designed and flawlessly implemented for pre-teens anywhere in Nigeria at that time. Not sure it has been replicated ever since, given the state of our country today. After scaling the common entrance examination, the five-day on-site interview was the real test to select the best of the best. The process, thoroughly calibrated for accuracy and consistent outcomes, would make today's corporate giants and professional talent hunters jealous. That was the GCI of my Class Set interview in 1964! For fairness, novelty and equity, we were taken through subjects that we had never been taught before. Suddenly, the 'extra lessons in English and Arithmetic' arranged by your primary school headmaster and gladly paid for by Mum and Dad to prepare you for Government College' became of little or no help

The on-site interview subjects were Binary Maths and French! And you had five days to be tested for comprehension, intellect, confidence and speed. At that stage it was really between you and your brain ... not much Dad's status or contacts or Mum's effectiveness as a prayer warrior could do.

We all came from diverse backgrounds and parental means but success in that process and gaining admission into Class One was the visa needed to cross the famous School Gate at Apata Ganga. And it was our welcome and first introduction to the world of GCI as Leveller. There were many more to come. In our individual Houses, we lived together as one from the fag to the sixth former. True, there were bunk beds for juniors and singles for seniors but we lived in the same room, except for sixth formers and prefects who had separate dorms. The uniform was truly uniform: the school brand for classes and grey khaki drills for evening wear. All were in shorts with no exceptions, until 1968 when grey trousers were allowed for fifth and sixth formers for ceremonial wear outside school.

And no matter the status, we all shared the same prep room, attended the compulsory House Assembly and roll call at 9.00pm. Some flexibility was allowed for individual response to the roll call, ranging from a diffident 'Here� from juniors, to an assertive 'Hiya' from most seniors and a loud and defiant 'Hior' from a small group of irredeemable customers of DJB's Sunday evening caning sessions. We called ourselves by surname with a gentle 'Please' added for seniors. It was a sacrilege to use the prefix 'Senior to a surname and this was often visited with sanctions including endless mockery and even a house fine! Many Boys who joined from other schools after Class One paid the fines and adjusted rapidly. The greatest leveller was the House of Commons to which all had to bow and respect as the structure of most utility for bio breaks on the house grounds.

In sports, especially athletics, every student was important. No one was disenfranchised for size, from the tiniest to the most muscular. The standard point scoring system ensured that every student could score for the House once the basic threshold was met. Weather classified as Junior A. Junior B or Senior, you had a chance to compete freely, represent your House and score points towards contributing to a cumulative total. Sports were not only for the Stars. Everybody woke up at 5.00am for the jogging and exercise harmattan run irrespective of status, except of course the sick and infirm.

Our set had some silver spoons�real ones for effect. We had four princes, two in 1965 and another two who joined us in sixth-form 1970. They were from the Ooni, Awujale, Alake and Ikale dynasties, each with a genuine claim to a future throne. Despite their royal birth, they went through the selection process with us commoners but left their silver spoons and blue blood behind in the palaces before coming over to GCI. The dining hall brought us together three times daily and being a prince did not protect you from being a mess boy or using the same 'panda (cheap aluminum) spoons with the rest of us. When they participated in physical sports and inevitably got injured, red blood flowed from their veins, not blue.
For the Ooni, who was also the Governor-General of Western Nigeria, seeing him visit his son on open days in his Rolls Royce and resplendent in his majestic robes was an event in itself. In our early days, it was common to gather around to admire the gleaming Rolls Royce, parked elegantly in Grier House, all decked in our chaka (shoeless) feet with his son joining us in similar modesty. Despite his royal pedigree, the Prince was comfortably shoeless amongst his mates and in deference to GCI as leveller, the Ooni never scolded him for being 'unprincely attired. He would give us a royal blessing and encourage us to face our studies. He must have gotten the leveller message for, on subsequent visits, he left his Rolls behind at Agodi and came in his shining but less well appointed Chevrolet or long-finned Pontiac.

But even as leveller. GCI brought us up in the best of its traditions and to the highest standards of excellence. We were exposed to the same opportunities but allowed to develop each to the best of his talents, subject of course, to a minimum below which none must drop. Our education was well rounded and complete and went beyond the hardware' issues of academics.. . High aptitude and excellence in the Arts, Sciences, debates, essay and quiz competitions and just passing exams.

Equal attention was paid to the 'software' issues and life skills... attitude, competitive sports (winning charitably, losing fairly), healthy inter-house rivalry, building leadership and tolerance through communal living, taking on extra responsibility (Drama, editing the magazines... The Rock, Beacon and College Gossip, Societies, Sound Incorporation, etc), hardwork, honesty, humility, civilized conduct and an abiding sense of humour. We had a resounding ability to laugh at ourselves as could be seen from our creative, self-deprecating and enduring nicknames.
GCI prepared us very well, but, as it turned out, it was for a country that was not to be. Soon after we left school, Nigeria became the ultimate leveller, bringing us all and the Great School to such depths we never dreamt existed or imagined possible in our days. Suddenly our country fell into the grip of people who had diverse and multitask roles thrust on them but mostly could not solve simple simultaneous equations as teens, Leadership became an overwhelming responsibility and remains so in all institutions of State. We are all victims now. As they say in contemporary parlance, �...levels have changed'.

But given our rocky foundation of resilience, courage and creative flexibility, we have learnt to survive in the new Nigeria of low standards, poor values, celebration of mediocrity, void and nothingness in which �...anything is possible'. We have done so without compromising our upbringing. Regrettably, GCI, like all Nigerian institutions, has barely survived as it continues to struggle to redefine its past and reconcile itself with today's situation

Should we give up on the Great School? Certainly not! As Old Boys, we should continue to give back to GCI in appreciation of a memory and pedigree many Nigerians didn't share and will never understand. But in so doing, perhaps we should now have a shift of emphasis from repairing the decayed school infrastructure, important as it is, to rebuilding the minds of those who engage with the GCI of today�students, teachers, faculty and the bureaucrats who, in adulthood, continue to struggle with simultaneous equations'. We must invest in their learning and development in order to restore the sense of academic excellence that was the hallmark of the school, encourage them, give them hope and make them believe in a future of possibilities in the hope of building their alignment with our vision for GCI. It will not be easy simply because those running the education sector don't see what we see. But hopefully, they will eventually get it', admit their failure, see their firm grip on GCI as a lost cause and eventually hand it over to Old Boys who are best suited to recreate the glorious past. And that is doable

And talking of the past, may I conclude with a reminiscence of my most enduring moment of humour and defining dimension of GCI as leveller. It was soon after I left school and in totally different climes.

It was September 1973 and involved an interaction with my former English teacher J.O. Arodudu, now of blessed memory. As a bright-eyed, idealistic undergraduate, 1 had decided to volunteer for the orientation program to receive postgraduate students who were arriving for British Council Fellowships at my university. When I received my brief, JOA's name was top of the list and it was with patience and great excitement that I waited for his arrival at the train station. The shock on his face was indescribable when he saw me on the platform waiting to receive him. As I stretched my hand to help with his luggage, our conversation went as follows:

�Onakoya... what are you doing here?
' I'm a student sir. "Ha-ha! Student where? At the university?
' Yes sir!
That's the same place I'm going. And what are you studying?'
'Engineering sir! Chemical engineering!!!
'Oh...I see! How did you get here? And for how long?
'I gained admission sir. Just completed my first year.'
Ha, you GCI boys. You are everywhere. I must send a message to MA in Ibadan. Do you remember him?'
Yes sir. He was my Geography teacher and Field Housemaster I know. But I must tell him I met you here. He must be careful with GCI boys at home and be nice to them. "No need sir. We enjoyed having you as our teachers. You helped in moulding our future.'
�Well, thank you. But we beat the hell out of you boys then. Now look at you. We are the same.
"We can never be the same sir. You will always be my great English teacher and Grier Housemaster." 'You can say what you like, but I mean what I'm saying. GCI prepared you boys for greatness. And that's the joy of every teacher. For our students to be greater than us.'

You needed to have known JOA and his personality to relate well with this conversation. He had a unique style of his own with his gestures, hands and feet. How he could ever consider me and him the same was unimaginable. He had acquired a Bachelors and Masters in English from Ibadan, been a teacher and Housemaster at GCI between 1965 and 1972, and was at Leeds for another Masters. And there was me at the early stages of my training for a Bachelors. But that was the beauty of the GCI pedigree and tradition... confidence and self assurance even in the presence of our teachers. But never a leveller.

Needless to say, I ensured JOA had a great year at university. As for his conversation with MA, also of blessed memory, I never bothered to ask� for lack of courage.


Onakoya Olumide