Barrister David Akintayo Ogungbemile was an Acting Comptroller General of Nigeria Customs Service before his retirement in 2004 by the President Olusegun Obasanjo-led administration. In this interview with INNOCENT DURU, he spoke about how his driver was gruesomely murdered by gunmen and how he narrowly escaped their plot to kill him. Excerpts:
Could you tell us about your beginning?
I was born on 17th July, 1945 in Ijesa-Isu into the Ogungbemile family of Ileje Street , in Ekiti State. My father, Jeremiah Akande Ogungbemile, like his forefathers, was a peasant farmer. My mother whom I fondly called Eye mi, was Abigail Ariyewun Ogungbemile. I grew up in a polygamous household. I was enrolled at Hosanna African Church Primary School, Ijesa-Isu, at the age of five. My father was very keen for all his children to receive formal education. For me, school presented a viable and pleasurable alternative to accompanying my father to the farm.
Hence, as soon as I was old enough, I didn’t need anyone to persuade me to go to school. Instead, for me, it served as better option to working on the farm.A School bag and sandals were not part of my early schooling life. My father could not afford such luxuries. I walked bare-footed to school, carrying my books in my hands. For several years, I attended primary school without shoes and had quite gotten used to it to the extent that when in later years, I got my first pair of shoes, I wore them to the ‘bush latrine’ and forgot them there.
From primary school, I went to modern school which I didn’t like because some of my classmates went straight from primary school to secondary school. That brought out rebellious attitude in me but I was very careful with my father. While he insisted that after secondary modern school, I should proceed to teacher training college, I was wise enough to dodge him, pretending that I had done the teachers’ training exam, whereas, I didn’t go anywhere. Anyway I found myself in secondary school.
Did you play any pranks as a child?
As a child, I possessed a stubborn streak. I had an inner voice that pushed me to be audacious and embarking on escapades for a thrill. One of such opportunities to engage in a prank was the annual Ogun Festival in my village. On the day of the Idagba Festival, it was the norm for the monarch to beat the town’s Ogun traditional agba drum. I found a willing accomplice in a friend and along the line, we observed that on the day of Idagba usually at about noon, the people in the town, including those in the market, left whatever they were doing to assemble at the palace to witness the traditional drum being beaten by the king. We then decided to beat the school drum under the pretext that it was the town’s traditional drum being sounded and watch people’s reaction. We were members of the school band and I being one of the school’s drummers had access to the school’s drums. As the mother drum sounded loudly few minutes before noon on the festival day, the people trooped out from the market towards where the town’s traditional drum was normally mounted only to discover that the preliminary rites had not started.
Meanwhile, myself and my friend watched their reactions from our hiding place reeling with laughter. After a few minutes, we went to the market, mingled with the people and listened to their comments. Some actually rained abuses in annoyance. The people were confused as if they had experienced an auditory hallucination and after some minutes, went back to their homes and market stalls mystified.
The actual festival was a special event. We cooked and ate special foods, including rice, a rarity in those days. There were also masquerades on acrobatic display to entertain children in particular. I was curious about what it would be like to dress up as a masquerade and typically, my curiousity led me to daringly go and participate in the masquerade displays. Boldly, I went to my father to request for an agbada (flowing gown), giving the impression that it was for someone else to wear as a masquerade. Though, he didn’t know that I wanted to wear it as a costume for the masquerade parade, he still refused, saying that it was against his Christian beliefs. Finally, he relented and gave his consent to borrow his agbada. During the festival, he recognised his apparel and realised that I was the masquerade passing by his house, the son of a well known lay reader\preacher and Sunday school teacher. It was too late for him to apprehend me or retrieve it and would not dare touch ara orun (citizens of heaven) as masquerades were known. It is taboo to scold ara orun, incarnated spirits!
Tell us about your days as a student at the University of Ibadan?
I started undergraduate studies at the University of Ibadan in September 1969 to study Sociology. The year was a significant one in the life of the university as it was its 21st anniversary. And I had plenty to show for it. Sociology taught me how to be smart and purpose filled. Everything fell into place for me. Indeed, in a sense, the university’s motto of ‘knowledge and sound judgment, ‘ came into play. With the knowledge I gained from my Sociology courses, I learnt to be less judgmental of people but to be more perspective.
You were part of the Students Union Government executives, was there any striking achievement you recorded during your days?
One memorable occasion for me was when students of tertiary institutions were threatened by university authorities that if tuition fees were not paid, they would not be allowed to take sessional examinations. The student government met in 1971 and took a decision to visit the Federal Commissioner for Finance and Vice –Chairman of the Federal Executive Council, late Chief Obafemi Awolowo in Lagos. We set out for his office without booking an appointment ‘fully armed’ with the exuberance of students’ activism.
On arrival, we expectedly met with some resistance and a scuffle broke out with the security officials on the ground floor. We, however, remained steadfast in our position and insisted on having a meeting with the Commissioner who in our view was a public servant and must be ready to to receive us in an emergency. We were eventually permitted to go to his office. As soon as we were ushered into his office, he picked up the telephone, called the then Commissioner for Education, Chief Wenike Briggs and said: ‘I have some students from the University of Ibadan here with me’.
After listing our names, he said: ‘They have lodged a complaint with me that indigent university students all over the country will not be permitted to write sessional examinations because of non-payment of tuition fees. Please let them take their exams.’ After he put down the phone, he informed us that he had just taken steps to ensure that such a policy would not be implemented but we insisted on taking a written note back to the university as proof.
He, however, reassured us that his word was his bond and asked us to return to campus. At 4pm later the same day, the news bulletin over the radio announced that students in all Nigerian universities would not be prevented from taking examinations over non-payment of fees. It was a victory for resilience and quick thinking.
There was no particular push or pull factor that took me into the thick of student activism. My nature as an extrovert implied that I was never keen to be in the background. I always preferred the limelight where I would be in the forefront of those directing students’ activities in positive direction. When the tenure of the SUG executives ended in July 1970, I decided to try my luck and vied for the post of the vice president. Some of my friends wanted us to be part of the team that would direct the activities on campus. The only way to do this was to be a member of the student executive council, then my friends and I worked out a strategy.
We recognised that our finances were lean; we could not even afford to buy a ream of paper for manifesto or campaigns purposes. We then came up with an idea. There was a man –Solomon Agunbiade, in our hall of residence who was much older and a lot more informed than us. He was aspiring to be the president and because we liked him, we gave him our full support. We decided that our strategy would be to get two of my friends to also contest for the same position with me. Our assumption was that, if others saw that at least three students were vying for the same post, they would be discouraged and would not bother to contest. The plan was that the two friends would withdraw at the last minute and I would step into the post unopposed. The strategy worked and there was no need for us to raise funds. With that, there was no need for posters or manifestoes again.
You will be 70 years old in a couple of weeks, how do you feel about it?
I give God the glory that I am where I am now. I am just a month to my 70th birthday in a country where the average life span is less than 50 years. If I say that I am excited, it will not be totally off the mark. When I was younger, I promised my God when I attain the age of 70, I will give glory unto His name. I also made a covenant that I would write a book when I get to this age and I am fulfilled that I have done just that. The book is titled ‘Abundant Grace’
Why did you go ahead to study Law later in life?
My fascination for the legal profession started when I was a child and increased as I grew up. I was also in my adult life, a keen follower of the late sage, Chief Obafemi Awolowo. I admired his brilliance which I put down to the fact that he was a lawyer. As a fan of Fela, I followed many of his cases and anytime I had the opportunity, I attended the court sessions. After I graduated with B.Sc. in Sociology, I nursed the ambition of having a degree in Law. This was boosted by a few friends who made jest of me by saying that I was not a degree holder until I studied Law. Indeed, one day, in his bid to get me actualise this fascination, one of them Olu, fetched his dust-covered Law books and dumped them on my lap, saying, ‘go back to school.’
Being a lawyer helped me a great deal in my job. It helped me to navigate some technical hurdles thrown my way in the course of doing my job.
Your job which involves tackling smugglers is quite risky. Did you have any close shave with death in the course of doing your job?
Three times, I escaped from death for doing my job well. I would have been killed just like that. I was lucky but my driver was not so lucky on one of the occasions. He was shot because we adopted what we call participant observation in sociology. I was in charge of investigation back then. I had serious push at the home front and the press about some developments. To address the problem, I invited four officers that I trusted and asked them to go to the people involved in the issue as customers. I told them to go and be working with those people so that we could nab them. At first, we wanted to invite the police but they dodged. With prayer and fasting, we succeeded in nibbing the problem in the bud. That was why they wanted to kill me.
A day before my driver was killed, I was going in my official vehicle to Agege, Lagos. Along the way, I had a foreboding that somebody wanted to hit me. The feeling didn’t allow me to rest. When the fear persisted, I then shifted to the left side of the vehicle and started searching the vehicle to know if somebody had planted something in it. But I didn’t see anything.
The following day, I asked my driver to go and meet the other driver and make sure that both of them came here to pick me. By providence, the driver, the night before, rather than taking the car to the usual place where he was supposed to park, because it was raining and too late, he parked at a police station. The following day, he went to take the car to go and pick the other driver. The assailants, who were probably trailing me, thought that, that was the time I used to resume duty, opened fire on the vehicle and killed the driver. When they now discovered that I wasn’t there, they started threatening that the battle had just begun.
After that, I was posted to Maiduguri to have some breather. At the time, if customs officers seized ordinary jerry can of petrol, they would bomb our office. Subsequently, I called one of the officers that were very loyal to me and told him that I had a dream where I was bathing with petrol and that it was as if they wanted to smuggle petrol along that road. I resolved that such would not happen. We eventually caught three tankers of petrol. Our challenge was how to take three tankers of petrol to our office in an environment that people attacked us when we seized a jerry can of petrol. With prayer and fasting, we took it to the station and nothing happened.
After that, I was posted back to Lagos.
You appear to have a strong faith in God. How did you come about this?
I have always been in tune with God right from the beginning following my dad to church. But I became born again after I married my wife. One day, she insisted that I should follow them to Pastor Chris Okotie’s church. When I got there, I was swept off by his language. I left Pentecostal church when the same Okotie said if you don’t know how to speak in tougues, line up this way. The activism in me kicked against it because I feel that speaking in tongues should come naturally. I don’t have to be schooled before I speak in tongues. When you talk about one on one relationship with God, I got that from my father and when you talk about being born again, it came from my wife. Ironically, I didn’t go to church even for a day, all through my university days. I left Household of God and went back to orthodox church. I attend African Church.
As an activist in the higher institution of learning, why did you take a Federal Government job that would tame you?
I wanted to be a journalist but God didn’t approve of it even though I prayed and fasted about it. My brother and mentor, who was very influential, took me to the manpower controller of Daily Times that was his very good friend. The man told my brother that the advert in the newspaper was not meant for fresh graduates. That response put me off.
After that time, I was now ready for any job. As God would have it, our set was the first in the country that government would be looking for graduates to recruit. I did not present myself for the interview. The guy who led the interview is still alive. When he didn’t see me, he was agitated that this bad boy had disappeared and would not attend the interview. He sent people to look for me to make sure that I attended the interview. While they were looking for me, I was already in the town and before I left, I wrote a note with the inscription, ‘I had gone to town on machine,’ on our door to agitate the mind of my room mate who was older than I was then. I didn’t do the interview.
About four months after, my brother was going to work one morning and I, without any prior discussion, went to him and said: ‘We are going to the Federal Civil Service Commission this morning to see that your friend that led the interview. Fortunately, when we got to the secretariat, somebody just saw my brother and shouted ‘Supreme Superior’. That did not mean anything to me. After the pleasantry, my brother said, I want to go and see XYZ to get a job for my brother. Then the man said, the person you are going to see is on leave and in any case, he is not in charge of recruitment , let me take you to the person in charge of recruitment. When we got there, the person then said that they had been instructed to invite 48 applicants for interview into the customs department because it was a department at that time.
My brother then went on to say,’ why 48 and not 50? All I want is for my brother to attend this interview’. I was asked to fill a form. As I was trying to do that, somebody just shouted ‘Number Two,’ what are you doing here’? ‘Number Two’ was the nickname given to me by the president of the students’ union. I filled the form and it occurred to me that there was no way I could have survived that kind of activism that I had in mind. But I was an activist in my place of work.
Where exactly were you when your mates were being interviewed for jobs?
(Laughs) I won’t tell you exactly where I was but I know where I was. (General laughter). I know what you are driving at and I won’t tell you. The person I was in her place will deliver her inaugural lecture as a professor soon.
Okay! The person is ‘her’?
Yes her! But I won’t mention her name (another round of general laughter).
You were obviously looking forward to being confirmed Comptroller General of Customs when you received the news of your retirement. How did you feel when you received the news?
For me, it was time to think back and give glory to God for my life throughout my professional career. This is because I have been a beneficiary of God’s exceedingly abundant grace in my life. Immediately I received the message, I walked towards our prayer room and began to thank and praise God for everything. I rolled on the floor of the prayer room from one end to the other, heartily thanking God for His mercy, divine grace, favour and direction. We humbled ourselves in prayer of praise.