Early in 1963, I got an offer from Idowu Owoeye’s band to go on a playing tour of Abeokuta. The band was not invited to play, but Owoeye believed that there was a chance to make money because the trip coincided with the coronation of Oba Gbadebo as Alake of Egbaland. His band members also believed it was an inspired decision, as they expected important guests to be in Abeokuta for the event.
Patronage, we all thought, was assured. We believed we would secure a hotel with a sizeable number of guests who might want to be entertained. Getting away from home was easy. The school was on vacation and I told my mother that we were going on an excursion.

On arrival in Abeokuta, we discovered that most of the guests who came for the coronation left immediately after the event. We stayed in Kano Stores, then one of the most popular hotels in the town. But we had neither accommodation nor the money to pay for it or even fares back to Osogbo. Our chances of being booked were slim because there were many big bands invited for the coronation and they had not left. They included Adeolu Akinsanya, Idowu Animashaun, I.K. Dairo and co. Everything suggested that our dream was going bust. The first two nights were spent idling away at the hotel, where we slept outside with our instruments. This infuriated the hotel management which viewed us tramps.

KSA sings, Ebenezer Obey sings, Fatai Rolling Dollars sings...all for KSA's mentor, Moses Olaiya aka Baba Salah
On the third day, however, the management of the hotel started warming up to us and took us as a resident band of sorts. We remained there for about two weeks, during which we were unable to make enough money to take us back to Osogbo. The crowd just did not respond well to our music. I longed to return home because I had spent about two of the three weeks I told my mother that the excursion would last.




Confusion and desperation took over me and I approached older members to lend me money, which I was aware they did not have. Another problem was that there was no replacement for me if I left the band. I was in trouble and knew it. All attempts to console me were futile. I woke up one morning and remembered that one of our former members had gone to join Moses Olaiya, who was to become famous as Baba Sala, in Lagos.

From Abeokuta to Baba Sala—One shilling, nine pence!
Instantly, I decided that I was going to join him in Lagos within that week. My head throbbed with thoughts of how to raise the fare. What I came up with was that if I got one shilling and six pence, I would get to Lagos. But where was the money going to come from? Hope rather than expectation ruled my head.
“With my little bag and two shillings tucked in my inner pocket, I took a bus to Tinubu. Midway through the journey, I slept off because I had become jaded after the grueling lorry trip from Abeokuta. But the time I woke up, the bus was in Keffi and I was the only passenger left”.
Then luck smiled on me. While playing one night, the crowd suddenly started appreciating our music. About 50 people danced before us, pasting money on our foreheads. That went to the common purse. My drumming got better and more revelers came to stick money in my breast pocket. By the end of the show, I had one shilling and nine pence—all for me. From the common purse, I was given about nine pence. I was ready for Lagos.

In order not be dissuaded, I told one member of the band, to whom I was closest, of my plan to leave for Lagos in the morning. He warned me not to go, particularly because our band leader would be into trouble with my mother if he returned to Osogbo without me. Though my mother still believed that I was on an excursion, I considered what my friend said and decided to write a note, through him, to her.

Read more at http://www.asabeafrika.com/2016/10/the-ksa-memoir-how-i-ran-away-from-home.html

Awwwww u see life?

P.S Omo I no read the story oh, e too long.