By Segun Gbadegesin
The sad news of the untimely passing of Yinka Odumakin, the spokesperson of Afenifere, the Yoruba socio-political organization in the frontline of democratic and federalist struggles since 1951, hit the nation like a political tsunami last Saturday. And we are yet to recover from the shock.
How can it be that such a young life, with yet a lot to contribute, was called home without notice or warning? Doesn’t it mean that, as Camus and several other philosophers insist, life has no meaning? That like Sisyphus, we are punished and condemned to a repetitive pursuit of meaningless tasks? Sisyphus’ task was to ceaselessly push a boulder up a mountain only to experience it roll down over and over.
As Yinka’s life and many before him demonstrated, our condition seems no less dire. We make tireless efforts to push many different types of boulders up our mountains of life. Though Camus presented Sisyphus’ pointless task as a metaphor for modern work life, it is even more so for our more grandiose endeavors, especially for the few that take on the thankless burden of the struggle for fairness and justice in our national life.
Will it ever end? Are we going to ever exhale? Is it really worth it? And why does the burden have to be so disproportionately shared? Go back to the earliest struggle for independence. The warriors against colonialism thought that their task was going to be done with the attainment of independence. They were going to set the country on the path of development and progress.
But it was not to be because the crown of achievement did not go to the tested fighters. And a change of course had to ensue. From fighting externally imposed oppression to struggling against the internally generated tripartite evil of injustice, poverty and ignorance.
Since 1960 the struggle has taken many twists and turns. It has led to the untimely passing of patriots, too numerous to mention, who took it seriously and made it their life course. Yet it has not been half won. Can it be won? Aren’t the conscientious among us condemned to a life of endless pursuit of justice which is, in the end, unattainable? Isn’t this the meaninglessness that Camus is deeply concerned about? If so, what is the answer?
Camus rejects suicide as a response to the absurdity of individual life, a contradiction that ensues when human reason confronts an unreasonable world. By the same token, we must acknowledge the contradiction of our rational expectation of a just world and the irrational order of injustice. But we must live this contradiction, not evade it. How?
In what may strike us as resignation to fate or acceptance of defeat, Camus thinks that Sisyphus is a free man once he realizes the sealing of his fate in the futile task that the gods assign him. At that point, we “must imagine Sisyphus happy”, Camus concludes.
But no! How can we give up the struggle for justice? Just because it is not achieved in our lifetime doesn’t mean that it will never be achieved. Somehow, Camus himself gives us a path to this conclusion when, in an apparent acknowledgment of our human nature, he implies that we cannot permanently accept the absurdity of the human condition. We always have to confront it and revolt against it.
Yinka Odumakin’s obsessions and struggles typified the indomitable human urge to confront and revolt, an urge that is irrepressible even with the realization of the absurdity of our condition. From his days as a student union executive to his pro-democracy struggle against military dictatorship, and his fight for a true federal democracy in Nigeria, Yinka was a passionate defender of his conviction.
I met Yinka online before I met him in person. After he took over as the Publicity Secretary of Afenifere, he and I corresponded on issues of interest to the Yoruba, and my online communication with Baba Abraham Adesanya was mediated through him. He had a powerful understanding of the fundamental issues, and he analyzed them with surgical precision. When I finally met him at the Jibowu secretariat of Afenifere, I was pleasantly surprised by his youthfulness, and hopeful for the future of the nation.
Over the years, Yinka threw the full weight of his intellect into the struggle for restructuring the Nigerian federal system toward a more just and equitable governance structure. While justice and equity are values worth fighting for in themselves, it is also important to understand that they are not abstract values. We must recognize them as instrumental values for peace, stability and national progress. Yinka understood this.
The sea of young heads that roam our urban centers daily are victims of a centralized federal system that cannot possibly provide employment opportunities for its urban youths talk less of the forgotten ruralites. This is why our place in the Human Development Index has been abysmally and dangerously static in the past two decades. Yinka knew this. And a restless soul like his would not stop fighting while he still had the breath of life.
Baba Adesanya was our hero. As president of Egbe Omo Yoruba between 1997 and 1999, I worked closely with him. He inspired us. We saw him as our pillar of strength. If he wasn’t tired at his age, we shouldn’t be. And he provided Afenifere with strong and ethical leadership.
The murder of Chief Bola Ige, the handling of the 2003 elections, and the internal wrangling that followed, proved to be an existential threat to Afenifere. I was distraught when Baba Adesanya became ill and died. Yinka and I discussed these matters and I shared his sense of disillusionment. I think he left Afenifere for a while before he returned. And he returned because he felt strongly that Afenifere can still lead the restructuring agenda of the Yoruba.
In and out of Afenifere, however, Yinka did not lose his bearing. At home and abroad, he contributed superior ideas when called upon. Whether in Tampa, Florida on the invitation of Egbe Omo Yoruba North America, or on Yoruba Gbode radio program hosted by Sola Aiwinilomo, or in Washington DC with Yoruba intellectuals, Yinka stood out as a passionate advocate of true federalism. In All the Way: Serving with Conscience, I make copious references to Yinka’s activities and contributions to the continuous struggle for true and fiscal federalism.
It is not unusual, neither should it be a surprise that such a passion, buoyed by the exuberance of age, would sometimes break out in uncontrolled utterances which may strike us as beyond the norm of decency. We know that such occurrences were unfortunate. But we also know that they were not from the heart. And we know, because Yinka said so. On the last occasion we were both on the Yoruba Gbode program, he was asked. And he thoughtfully responded that he bore no grudge against anyone. He also said that he would support whoever the Yoruba people put forward in the contest for the presidency.
On a personal level, Yinka was a dependable ally, taking on assignments without asking for any favor. He and Hon. Wale Oshun were helpful in mobilizing members of Afenifere Renewal Group to my son’s traditional wedding in Port-Harcourt in December 2008. In 2015, Yinka was out of the country during my 70th birthday celebration in Lagos. When he got back, we couldn’t arrange a meeting before I had to head to the airport for my departure. However, Yinka made sure that he met me at the airport to say goodbye. In 2017, Okeho had its centennial celebration. Yinka personally sponsored a jingle on his Radio station. He was on his way to the ceremony in Okeho but had a vehicle breakdown. That is who he was. A friend indeed.
With such a torrent of tributes from across the country, including the personal touch of some of those that many would consider as his adversaries, we can rest assured that Yinka’s soul is already at peace. The Great Comforter will comfort his loving wife and aged parents.
We will understand it better by and by.
