Permit me to stonewall myself from the fire power of seasoned and dexterous wordsmiths as I engage in this herculean pursuit- the mission to dare congratulate a deity of belles-lettres and the impenitent cloudburst reckoned for leaving habitué crestfallen at any pageant of chagrin in the corridor of tyrannts. That in itself, should not call for a need to purchase immunity at the very price of oratory prowess- what calls for it is that like the Biblical John said of Jesus that he was not worthy to untie the straps of his sandals, I lack the capacity to attempt a recital of the biography of the mysterious gunman. I do hope that Professor Niyi Osundare and the many Ìrókòs in the world of literature and logrolling would see my gut as an unmitigated bambino's play. I seek immunity- amnesty from the boomerang that follows when a juvenile makes scurrilous remarks about the Ìrókò tree. I cannot afford the expensive words and historic brass tracks that would capture Kongi in his true light, hence I see that as an affront. Per contra, It is on the nose to acquit myself of the burden cast upon me by my precinct- the little disciples of Soyinka, as the deity in mask clocked 81.


Without an attempt to do a review of the linguistic potency of that word 'deity', I shall drop my felicitation message for Baba as I swing the pendulum of reference between his work on the late D.O Fagunwa's book, Ògbójú ode nínú Igbó Irúnmalè and why the author of 'the man died' would not die. I was born two decades and some years ago, obviously the reason why I cannot boast of being in the know on how Kongi lost his way in the Jungle as put by Professor Osundare, but I am certain of why Baba Soyinka found his way in the castle of history.

I remember years back when I stumbled upon one of Baba's works, apparently, the first I would lay my hands upon. A conversation at night with a cockroach? Who talks to a cockroach was my question, basking in the euphoria of my 9 years old brain. It was an uninteresting one for me. At that age, we were used to neophyte writers eulogising the butterfly in simple language- anything above that was unworthy of a read. That would change a decade later when I read 'the forest of a thousand daemons' which was a translation of the earlier mentioned late D.O Fagunwa's book. I was dazed by its content and the translation of the deity talking about numerous daemons and the sojourn of the brave Àkàrà-Ogun. When I was done with that book, I became an addict of all Kongi's works. My verdict? If Baba Soyinka's work ever appeared uninteresting- the reader may consider removing the lenses of parochial sentiment if he is sure that his intellectual status is fit to dine with Soyinka's use of words.

Baba Soyinka is not just a writer, he is a wrighter. He is a stubborn activist, a thermometer with which the temperature of a dictator is measured, a deft speaker with a lion heart and he is a molester- a molester of wrong policies. Kongi did show on several instances that silence in the face of oppression is evil. Obviously, Wole would never get caught in the offside in the intellectual assessment of his book, the man died, because he would neither be cowed by oppression or tyranny. Baba would fight, he won't give up. He may fight and run, but not to disappear, but to resurface later for a more fierce one.

With a zeal for a convincing lead to correct, leaving Baba Soyinka's translation of D.O Fagunwa's book unread does not do justice to him for anyone who wants to study him. With his incredible and intimidating literary skills, the true son of Soyinka leaves fingers itching to flip through the next page in an attempt to discover the mysteries which he was set to unravel with translation in that classic work. It is no surprise that Baba got the highly coveted price- Nobel price- one well deserved. 

I have met Baba, but Baba is yet to meet me- in his numerous literary magic in papers and takes on public issues, I have studied Baba and realized that he is a deity that need be pronounced one. How else can you describe the man who steals your attention with language and yet, holds no liability? How do you describe the Ijegba man who warned that 'trespassing vehicles will be shot and eaten' around his nature blessed territory? Yes, a deity is a preternatural or supernatural human or entity that possesses miraculous or supernatural attributes, powers or super powers- Baba Soyinka is no less one.

Baba is 81! Kongi is graciously mounting the hill of his ancestors- Kongi will go, but unlike others, he won't go. The son of Soyinka is a cheat- he has cheated on death with his credentials and stay in life. He sailed graciously away from envy, sentiment corruption, evil and made impressions. Every man must fall, it is only the time and manner that differs- Baba Wole would go, but his works would keep him. For in Kongi, a thinker would discover reasons why the man died, but Wole Soyinka would not. Of what essence then would it be to wish the personified terror of the oppressors a happy birthday, when I know a million people have done that and mine would perhaps go unnoticed? The answer lies in the amazing nature of doing good- everybody must do it, yet it is never enough. Happy birthday baba.

*clap .... clap .... clap* Very good one, Hidentity.