By
Lanre Arogundade
I first knew him through his creative side. Femi Aborisade had been detained by General Ibrahim Babangida’s government in 1988. He was already spending months in detention. The Free Femi Aborisade Committee had been formed with Dr. Beko Ransome Kuti as the chairman. The campaign for Aborisade’s release was to go public and a logo was needed for the Committee’s letter head. We were at Beko’s famous 8, Imaria Street, Anthony-Lagos. “Dr. Baloo is already sketching something”, Beko announced. Within minutes Dr. Baloo emerged with a logo that bore all the elements of creativity. I marvelled excitedly, lavishing praise at him. He only smiled gently in acknowledgement. I had known Beko longer than him so it didn’t take long for Dr. Baloo to register in my mind as his perfect alter ego. Both men had elastic capacity to listen attentively; to interject with humour even when disagreeing or ridiculing your position and more importantly to speak less and act more.
The Underground System is the title of Fela’s famous album in which he uncharacteristically eulogised Burkina Faso’s Thomas Sankara, but if there was any positive human embodiment of underground system, it was Dr. Baloo. He largely operated underground in the anti-military struggle days making enormous contributions that qualified him as a hero of Nigeria’s democracy. Unsurprisingly, in the post-military era, he teamed up with Beko to establish the Centre for Constitutional Governance ((CCG) whose impactful works have spanned advocacy for grassroots and citizens rights and press freedom.
Away from 8, Imaria Street, it was at Beko’s Junction Clinic at Idi-Oro in Mushin area of Lagos that I discovered another creative side of Dr. Baloo. Activism and health matters used to take me to the clinic as occassion demanded. In any case, Beko would usually give you an appointment there for 5pm. I was to say hello to Dr. Baloo on one of the occasions. Not being in his office I was directed to a shed at the back of the clinic. There he was in a large carpentry workshop, measuring woods, cutting some, nailing others and giving instructions to his aides and lieutenants. I must have rapidly asked up to three questions when I managed to close my mouth that amazement had momentarily forced open. “Haa, you’re also a carpenter? How did you learn it? How did you combine studying medicine with learning carpentry? Smiling, all he volunteered was: “It’s just a matter of interest”. The artistic and quality touch that Dr. Baloo gave his furniture was out of this world. The dining and living room set he made for me – my very first as a bachelor living in a three-bedroom flat with Rotimi Sankore in Alagbado area of Lagos – was a star attraction for any visitor. I so much loved the pieces and they followed me to my own bungalow.
Recent encounters with Dr. Baloo have unfortunately been rather sporadic, limited to occassioal encounters at Felabration’s Fela debates and some civil society forums. It was therefore sad to learn of his demise few days ago following post-surgery complications. An enigmatic personality has transited. A great humanist has passed on. Adieu Dr. Baloo (Adewale Balogun). Your creativity, your intellect and your humour would be greatly missed.
