Soulmates we lost
Joe Adekwagh steps on
Death, yesterday Thursday October 25, snatched one of
our valuable staff and prolific artiste Joseph
Terhemba Adekwagh. Adekwagh slumped while serving as
masters of ceremonies at the 40th year on stage event
of the veteran actor, poet and essayist Lari Williams.
The actor of immense credit and show host died after
attempt to revive him at a clinic in Surulere, where
he was rushed to after he slumped failed. The Lari
Williams event held at the Cinema Hall 1 of the
National Theatre.
Aged 44 having been born on February 18, 1963,
Adekwagh is a native of Konshisha Local Government of
Benue State. He was recruited in September 1989 as an
artiste to form the nucleus of the then Hubert Ogunde
led National Troupe of Nigeria. He continued as an
artiste until in 1999 when his contract with the
National Troupe lapsed. In 2001, Adekwagh was formally
employed into the National Troupe this time as a
tenure staff. He was designated Assistant Stage
Manager but he was always available to perform each
time the National Troupe had a production that
required his robust talent.
Married with two kids, Desmond and Mohammed, Adekwagh
whose creative pouch is filled with numerous stage,
screen and radio productions is best remembered for
living delightfully the role of Tanko Daruje in the
long rested Nigerian Television Authority (NTA) soap
Wind of Destiny. He was at a time vice Chairman and
later Chairman of the Lagos State Chapter of the
National Association of Nigerian Theatre Arts
Practitioners (NANTAP)
The remains of the tall, humble and unpretentiously
friendly thespian have been deposited at the morgue of
the Lagos State University Teaching Hospital. The
Management of the National Theatre/National Troupe is
in touch with the family who are expected to formally
announce burial arrangements for the departed prolific
actor who drops off ‘lasgidi’ after any exchange of
pleasantry. It was Adekwagh’s way of reminding his
friends that Lagos is as tough to survive like Europe.
_ Shaibu Husseini, PA to the DG, national Troupe/National Theatre
'Baba Macaulay' joins the train
Adekwagh
'Baba Macaulay' Joins The Train
OCTOBER 24, 2007, 6pm. My office at the Rutam House, in Oshodi area of Lagos… my cellphone rang…)
SH: Editor, have you seen the text I sent to you?
JA: Which one? When did you send it?
SH: This evening.
JA: I haven't seen it o. Is it on the Documentary Film Festival?
SH: It is about your good friend, Joseph?
JA: Joseph? Which Joseph?
SH: The one weh deh National Troupe.
JA: Adekwagh?
SH: Yes o.
JA: (Heart racing violently) Wetin happen to Joe?
SH: Di man don pass on o.
JA: Hennnn, what? When? How? Ha…ha, shegeee
SH: Walahi, the man passed on this afternoon.
JA: Joe Adekwagh is dead! Same Adekwagh? The actor?
SH: Yes o.
JA: The one I call 'Baba Macaulay?' Oh my God. How did it happen?
SH: The man was doing compere at Lari Williams’ 40th anniversary show when he just collapsed...
JA: Haaaaaargh, just like that? But… but... he was such a strong man... was he sick? Oh God, God...
SH: He was not sick o... it was such a shock to the entire staff of the National Troupe too. Di man just resumed from leave sef... he went off to rest and then came back… and this was supposed to be his first outing anywhere...
JA: Gawd!!! What is happening…even Joe…? Was he married?
SH: Yes, he was; with two kids sef… his remains have been deposited at the mortuary.
JA: Oh, oh oh, abeg make I call you later...
And so it happened. Another dark song has descended on my poor, tried, tired soul. Another pall of darkness has enveloped the arthouse… reminding of that trial-some season — about a decade ago — when members of the community started this unfathomable romance with total eclipse… when they either headed for the borders or the graveyard; especially those forced by the decay in their society and Philistinism of their fatherland to head for the permanent exit: Sesan Ajayi. Segun Ayo Taiwo. Segun Narset. Hakeem Shitta. Charles O’Neil. Femi Ayeni. Gani Odutokun. Amatu Braide. Ajayi Olatide. Rachael Eghagha. Bode Osanyin. Jide Malomo among others.
Joe Adekwagh:
WE met on the set of National Troupe; then in the studio of NTA; then in NANTAP; then on the set of Ladi Ladebo's Thrift Collector and two feature celluloid films; then comic shows (which is where Baba Macaulay came from)...
To many of our contemporaries, 'Baba Macaulay' remains a code that only Joe and I share. It was a spectacle that often provoked a feast of laughter… especially in the vicinity of National Theatre where it had been re-enacted a millionth time.
This is a short comic scenario: whenever we run into each other, it did not matter the place, the time, who is watching, whatever we are wearing: the two of us will whip out handkerchief from our individual pockets and proceed to lie flat on the floor struggling to get to the feet of the other person… the prize is to clean the shoe, slippers or bare feet of the other person…
It was a competition, and most of the time Joe would win… he was faster, had longer reach, and swifter moves… But at the end we would both embrace and share the laugh. Those privileged to witness the encounter would then explode in laughter, haranguing each of us on the meaning of the gesture. We would then be amused as we try to tell them that it was a secret cult code.
Here is the story:
SOMETIME in the mid-90s, while returning from a musical concert at the then USIS on Broad Street (I am sure a few minutes after 10pm on a Sunday), I had been stranded at the CMS Bus Stop — of course, this was a dangerous den of all sorts of street urchins especially the Area Boys. There were a few vehicles, and nearly few responsible persons in sight (also waiting perhaps to catch the last bus to their various homes; I was heading to Festac Town via Orile Iganmu), but I had found refuge by the huge monument of Herbert Macaulay, the legendary Nigerian politician of the pre-Independence era — erected on that bit of Broad Street. I hadn't been here for more than 10 minutes when a scrawny looking character emerged from the decrepit gate of the equally derelict National Library, a few metres away on the opposite side of the road. The man had then strolled to the other side of the monument (obviously, he did not see me) and proceeded to do that which is definitely the act of a deranged fellow: he started pulling at one of the arms of Macaulay, positioned in akimbo...
'Haaaaa, Baba Macaulay', (bleated the gaunt fellow in Yoruba), 'Ojojumo l’ekan ma n'pose si'bi yi, ekan fi owo s'apo ni, owo yin o mu nkan jade ri… ha, ema settle me leni o) (Chief Macaulay, everyday I come here, you always have your hand in your pocket, yet you have never brought out money, you have to give me money, today).
I thought this was some sort of drama… but I shifted my position and crossed to the other side of the road… a cab came at this time, but I was too engrossed in the drama that I did not flag it down on time…
My spare fellow continued; he pulled rather violently at the same hand of the monument… But when he got frustrated, he whipped out a hankie from his pocket and started wiping the feet of the monument…. 'Baba Macaulay, e ti p’oju…. Ewo itele… ide ni…. bla bla'… (Macaulay, you are truly a great man, see your pair of shoes, made of Gold…)
Then he went flat on his chest, rolling on the ground… screaming like an animal… I observed that he was foaming in the mouth. At this point, I knew I had to talk to my feet… anything could happen. Trust that when Lagos police come around at that point, anybody in the vicinity is liable to being pinned with having caused the foaming-mouth man's misfortune.
SOME years after, 2000, I think, at a rehearsals of the National Troupe for Dance Nigeriana (Hanover Expo 2000) to which I had been invited as a guest artiste, I relayed this episode to a couple of mates, making sure I acted out the role as much as I could recollect it… The rehearsal went on fire that day.
This was where Joe Adekwagh picked it up. He pestered me with memory of the act so much that I had to yield to his suggestion that we turned it into a short comedy.
Of course, we never had the opportunity to formalise such an arrangement. But we enjoyed it as a shared private joke…
NOW, I have lost 'Baba Macaulay' — the admirable artiste… Joe was a fantastic dancer, actor as many theatre buffs in Lagos and as well lovers of Television soaps (e.g Winds of Destiny) and Nollywood movies will attest. He had an easy, almost declarative approach to the vocation of the actor that he often appeared playful with the role… but he was effective. My best of his was in a play (forgot the title now) in which he played a Postman or something of that sort… He had this dance-like movement almost like a disco jockey that made the role memorable. He was costumed in brown shirt and short uniform with a wole-wole (sanitary inspector) sort of cap. His was a minor role, but he stole the show… no doubt about that.
Now I am grateful that I had an opportunity to tell him he thrilled me to no end with the role.
On screen, I love a role he played alongside Richard Mofe-Damijo, in which he was the family-friend that saved a troubled couple from matrimonial chaos. I think (I hope I remember well now) he harboured the wife who had been sent packing in his flat, and then tricked the husband to come over to the house. The wife cooked a delicious meal, and the estranged husband ate the meal; he asked his friend (Adekwagh) who cooked this meal; since he was not aware his 'lecherous' friend had a wife' (he even reminded that one of the reasons he sent his wife away was because she could not cook well)…. to which Adekwagh's character responded by inviting the estranged wife to the scene… The couple smiled, ever after.
That was the character of my dear friend, Joe… He was slow and swift in his move; deep in his mind; soft at heart (there are many memorable instances of him calling me up to ask what we could do for any member of the community in distress...). He was always the one to work out a scheme that could sort out a puzzle no matter the degree of entanglement. This was why, as he told me, he took a plunge into the then murky politics of the Lagos chapter of the National Association of Nigerian Theatre Arts Practitioners, NANTAP. "We need to fix this house together, my broda," he said, while asking me to serve in a committee he was setting up to ensure the return of old, estranged members of the Lagos theatre community. He was a grossly performing Chief Executive… always desirous of setting good example… I recall our debate about whether or not, NANTAP should embrace actors who were not formally trained but have made marks as performers in the home video. He worked for the common good of the artistes’ family.
Adekwagh, may Laughter, Peace and God's Mercy be your lot wherever you find yourself.
Adieu, Baba Macaulay.
— Jahman Anikulapo
Death, yesterday Thursday October 25, snatched one of
our valuable staff and prolific artiste Joseph
Terhemba Adekwagh. Adekwagh slumped while serving as
masters of ceremonies at the 40th year on stage event
of the veteran actor, poet and essayist Lari Williams.
The actor of immense credit and show host died after
attempt to revive him at a clinic in Surulere, where
he was rushed to after he slumped failed. The Lari
Williams event held at the Cinema Hall 1 of the
National Theatre.
Aged 44 having been born on February 18, 1963,
Adekwagh is a native of Konshisha Local Government of
Benue State. He was recruited in September 1989 as an
artiste to form the nucleus of the then Hubert Ogunde
led National Troupe of Nigeria. He continued as an
artiste until in 1999 when his contract with the
National Troupe lapsed. In 2001, Adekwagh was formally
employed into the National Troupe this time as a
tenure staff. He was designated Assistant Stage
Manager but he was always available to perform each
time the National Troupe had a production that
required his robust talent.
Married with two kids, Desmond and Mohammed, Adekwagh
whose creative pouch is filled with numerous stage,
screen and radio productions is best remembered for
living delightfully the role of Tanko Daruje in the
long rested Nigerian Television Authority (NTA) soap
Wind of Destiny. He was at a time vice Chairman and
later Chairman of the Lagos State Chapter of the
National Association of Nigerian Theatre Arts
Practitioners (NANTAP)
The remains of the tall, humble and unpretentiously
friendly thespian have been deposited at the morgue of
the Lagos State University Teaching Hospital. The
Management of the National Theatre/National Troupe is
in touch with the family who are expected to formally
announce burial arrangements for the departed prolific
actor who drops off ‘lasgidi’ after any exchange of
pleasantry. It was Adekwagh’s way of reminding his
friends that Lagos is as tough to survive like Europe.
_ Shaibu Husseini, PA to the DG, national Troupe/National Theatre
'Baba Macaulay' joins the train
Adekwagh
'Baba Macaulay' Joins The Train
OCTOBER 24, 2007, 6pm. My office at the Rutam House, in Oshodi area of Lagos… my cellphone rang…)
SH: Editor, have you seen the text I sent to you?
JA: Which one? When did you send it?
SH: This evening.
JA: I haven't seen it o. Is it on the Documentary Film Festival?
SH: It is about your good friend, Joseph?
JA: Joseph? Which Joseph?
SH: The one weh deh National Troupe.
JA: Adekwagh?
SH: Yes o.
JA: (Heart racing violently) Wetin happen to Joe?
SH: Di man don pass on o.
JA: Hennnn, what? When? How? Ha…ha, shegeee
SH: Walahi, the man passed on this afternoon.
JA: Joe Adekwagh is dead! Same Adekwagh? The actor?
SH: Yes o.
JA: The one I call 'Baba Macaulay?' Oh my God. How did it happen?
SH: The man was doing compere at Lari Williams’ 40th anniversary show when he just collapsed...
JA: Haaaaaargh, just like that? But… but... he was such a strong man... was he sick? Oh God, God...
SH: He was not sick o... it was such a shock to the entire staff of the National Troupe too. Di man just resumed from leave sef... he went off to rest and then came back… and this was supposed to be his first outing anywhere...
JA: Gawd!!! What is happening…even Joe…? Was he married?
SH: Yes, he was; with two kids sef… his remains have been deposited at the mortuary.
JA: Oh, oh oh, abeg make I call you later...
And so it happened. Another dark song has descended on my poor, tried, tired soul. Another pall of darkness has enveloped the arthouse… reminding of that trial-some season — about a decade ago — when members of the community started this unfathomable romance with total eclipse… when they either headed for the borders or the graveyard; especially those forced by the decay in their society and Philistinism of their fatherland to head for the permanent exit: Sesan Ajayi. Segun Ayo Taiwo. Segun Narset. Hakeem Shitta. Charles O’Neil. Femi Ayeni. Gani Odutokun. Amatu Braide. Ajayi Olatide. Rachael Eghagha. Bode Osanyin. Jide Malomo among others.
Joe Adekwagh:
WE met on the set of National Troupe; then in the studio of NTA; then in NANTAP; then on the set of Ladi Ladebo's Thrift Collector and two feature celluloid films; then comic shows (which is where Baba Macaulay came from)...
To many of our contemporaries, 'Baba Macaulay' remains a code that only Joe and I share. It was a spectacle that often provoked a feast of laughter… especially in the vicinity of National Theatre where it had been re-enacted a millionth time.
This is a short comic scenario: whenever we run into each other, it did not matter the place, the time, who is watching, whatever we are wearing: the two of us will whip out handkerchief from our individual pockets and proceed to lie flat on the floor struggling to get to the feet of the other person… the prize is to clean the shoe, slippers or bare feet of the other person…
It was a competition, and most of the time Joe would win… he was faster, had longer reach, and swifter moves… But at the end we would both embrace and share the laugh. Those privileged to witness the encounter would then explode in laughter, haranguing each of us on the meaning of the gesture. We would then be amused as we try to tell them that it was a secret cult code.
Here is the story:
SOMETIME in the mid-90s, while returning from a musical concert at the then USIS on Broad Street (I am sure a few minutes after 10pm on a Sunday), I had been stranded at the CMS Bus Stop — of course, this was a dangerous den of all sorts of street urchins especially the Area Boys. There were a few vehicles, and nearly few responsible persons in sight (also waiting perhaps to catch the last bus to their various homes; I was heading to Festac Town via Orile Iganmu), but I had found refuge by the huge monument of Herbert Macaulay, the legendary Nigerian politician of the pre-Independence era — erected on that bit of Broad Street. I hadn't been here for more than 10 minutes when a scrawny looking character emerged from the decrepit gate of the equally derelict National Library, a few metres away on the opposite side of the road. The man had then strolled to the other side of the monument (obviously, he did not see me) and proceeded to do that which is definitely the act of a deranged fellow: he started pulling at one of the arms of Macaulay, positioned in akimbo...
'Haaaaa, Baba Macaulay', (bleated the gaunt fellow in Yoruba), 'Ojojumo l’ekan ma n'pose si'bi yi, ekan fi owo s'apo ni, owo yin o mu nkan jade ri… ha, ema settle me leni o) (Chief Macaulay, everyday I come here, you always have your hand in your pocket, yet you have never brought out money, you have to give me money, today).
I thought this was some sort of drama… but I shifted my position and crossed to the other side of the road… a cab came at this time, but I was too engrossed in the drama that I did not flag it down on time…
My spare fellow continued; he pulled rather violently at the same hand of the monument… But when he got frustrated, he whipped out a hankie from his pocket and started wiping the feet of the monument…. 'Baba Macaulay, e ti p’oju…. Ewo itele… ide ni…. bla bla'… (Macaulay, you are truly a great man, see your pair of shoes, made of Gold…)
Then he went flat on his chest, rolling on the ground… screaming like an animal… I observed that he was foaming in the mouth. At this point, I knew I had to talk to my feet… anything could happen. Trust that when Lagos police come around at that point, anybody in the vicinity is liable to being pinned with having caused the foaming-mouth man's misfortune.
SOME years after, 2000, I think, at a rehearsals of the National Troupe for Dance Nigeriana (Hanover Expo 2000) to which I had been invited as a guest artiste, I relayed this episode to a couple of mates, making sure I acted out the role as much as I could recollect it… The rehearsal went on fire that day.
This was where Joe Adekwagh picked it up. He pestered me with memory of the act so much that I had to yield to his suggestion that we turned it into a short comedy.
Of course, we never had the opportunity to formalise such an arrangement. But we enjoyed it as a shared private joke…
NOW, I have lost 'Baba Macaulay' — the admirable artiste… Joe was a fantastic dancer, actor as many theatre buffs in Lagos and as well lovers of Television soaps (e.g Winds of Destiny) and Nollywood movies will attest. He had an easy, almost declarative approach to the vocation of the actor that he often appeared playful with the role… but he was effective. My best of his was in a play (forgot the title now) in which he played a Postman or something of that sort… He had this dance-like movement almost like a disco jockey that made the role memorable. He was costumed in brown shirt and short uniform with a wole-wole (sanitary inspector) sort of cap. His was a minor role, but he stole the show… no doubt about that.
Now I am grateful that I had an opportunity to tell him he thrilled me to no end with the role.
On screen, I love a role he played alongside Richard Mofe-Damijo, in which he was the family-friend that saved a troubled couple from matrimonial chaos. I think (I hope I remember well now) he harboured the wife who had been sent packing in his flat, and then tricked the husband to come over to the house. The wife cooked a delicious meal, and the estranged husband ate the meal; he asked his friend (Adekwagh) who cooked this meal; since he was not aware his 'lecherous' friend had a wife' (he even reminded that one of the reasons he sent his wife away was because she could not cook well)…. to which Adekwagh's character responded by inviting the estranged wife to the scene… The couple smiled, ever after.
That was the character of my dear friend, Joe… He was slow and swift in his move; deep in his mind; soft at heart (there are many memorable instances of him calling me up to ask what we could do for any member of the community in distress...). He was always the one to work out a scheme that could sort out a puzzle no matter the degree of entanglement. This was why, as he told me, he took a plunge into the then murky politics of the Lagos chapter of the National Association of Nigerian Theatre Arts Practitioners, NANTAP. "We need to fix this house together, my broda," he said, while asking me to serve in a committee he was setting up to ensure the return of old, estranged members of the Lagos theatre community. He was a grossly performing Chief Executive… always desirous of setting good example… I recall our debate about whether or not, NANTAP should embrace actors who were not formally trained but have made marks as performers in the home video. He worked for the common good of the artistes’ family.
Adekwagh, may Laughter, Peace and God's Mercy be your lot wherever you find yourself.
Adieu, Baba Macaulay.
— Jahman Anikulapo
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