I can’t actually look back and say “l am here without my teachers.” What did I know before these ones taught me?
Right from the ones that memory cannot afford me while I was crawling to the ones whose memory keeps flashing in my minds for their noble work.
Teachers might not also have come with the chalkboard alone. They also appear in familiar and strange places.
I mean those who tell you to prostrate very well; those who say don’t give me that thing with your left hand; those who taught us God’s way in Church, lengthening our days of innocence and even the multitude of authors that penned books. On the TV; someone who scribbled content on the Internet; journalists and columnists whose pieces I read after finishing popcorn and epa, blowing the cover in my face. Colleagues who taught me assignments; Awolowo who helped me immensely during my project days; even my bosses and colleagues who said it can always be better. An investor who said capital no to a deal or even a relationship that failed but my ex-partner left me with immense lessons.
Those unfinished medium of learning, my teachers.
However, I can’t forget someone like Professor Olusegun Osinowo. Professor was not my teacher as we know the profession to be. He didn’t stand in the class and offer me lessons but he did far much more than that. He was Head of the Computer Centre in FUNAAB and a simple letter from me, my small self to come and speak to Engineering students was honoured. He came in so early and I can’t even forget that moment when I said
“Can everybody please move forward?”
I wanted student to fill the spaces in front.Professor did so. He carried his bag and moved forward. If humility was the way to relate to people, I have come to revere his way. Even on his Facebook page, he prefers to name himself, Olusegun Osinowo.
When I went to see him in company of Odun Adebambo for the UNAAB ICT Conference, he smiled and offered to get us the venue. He tried to get us a sponsor -Zinox technologies – and even brought his own ICT company for exhibition. He came to the event, spoke well. He just left immortal moments in me when I compare his work with that of some haughty lecturers who think teaching is another means of servitude. Someday, I will pay him a visit.
I will also write specifically of S.G Oyagbinrin who was my lecturer and project supervisor in the University. We did get along in the early days because he had tough standards. When the list came out that he was going to be my supervisor with Olakojo Samuel, I was a bit disturbed but he carried on with so much help, offering ideas along the way.
On the day of our project defence, our Head of Department, Professor Adejumo, had harsh words for me. That I disappointed him and my presentation was more of oratory, sweet tenses rather than the technical details of the transformer we were meant to build. A transformer that was never completed. My soul never derived joy in melting lead on circuit boards.
The HOD decided he will fail us and promised that we will stay an extra year, repeating a 8-unit course. It was a time of immense distress.
I can hear my project supervisor, who was powerless at that moment say something
“What about my own students, what will happen to them?”
Though looks like the statement won’t change anything but it immortalized Engr. Oyagbinrin in my spirit. Like this man wants to stood up for us. In the end, the Senate and voices in the department prevailed. We were sparingly scored a “C”, for a 8-unit course.
Engr. Oyagbinrin died few years ago. It was very shocking.
It is a long list, starting from my own parents, Elder I.O Onigbinde who taught me how to knot a tie and sit straight when we were eating, family members I can’t count, Mr Olayiwola of Loyola College, Mr Ajayi & Elder Bolarinwa of Agbala Itura and many more I can’t recollect.
Noble work they did and if I sit back and keep counting, I will keep imagining how I encounter them everyday in my life -Teachers.