(Yabis session of Saturday, 21 December 1991 at the Afrika Shrine, Pepple Street, Ikeja, Lagos)
by Dulue Mbachu
Afrika Shrine - The Shrine - was the central concept around which Fela Anikulapo-Kuti organized his show business and at the same time expressed his art and his politics. The routine consisted essentially of three shows a week: Friday, Gbegbegbe (noise-making) night, which featured only music and none of the political jibes and outrageous jokes he was known for; Saturday, Comprehensive Show, which featured the famous yabis sessions when Fela called things by their name in the tradition of African night spirits, sometimes pleasing and outraging the audience at the same time; and Tuesday, Ladies Night, when ladies were allowed in free.
Fela would usually speak for between five and 20 minutes, depending on his mood, passing comments on current events, trading barbs with the audience or abusing the forever inept authorities. But on this particular night, 21 December 1991, Fela spoke for nearly one-and-a-half hours, making it the longest yabis session I was to witness during a decade of regular attendance.
On this day there had been elections to choose state governors under Gen. Ibrahim Babangida’s ill- fated transition to civil rule programme. Movement had been restricted during the day, as is often the case during Nigerian elections, and in the evening Lagos poured out to enjoy itself. The Shrine was packed with enthusiasts and the air was pungent with the smell of marijuana.
As was usual, Fela’s band, the Egypt 80 Band, had struck up at about 11 pm, playing the old hits he would no longer play himself, having decided he had moved beyond them once they were released. This went on for nearly three hours until Fela arrived to a noisy welcome. Dressed in his trade-mark tight-fitting shirt and trousers, this time of purple colour, and decorated with abstract motifs, he immediately went into business.
The first number was BBC, Big Blind Country, one of a dozen new compositions he refused to record in his last eight years and were only played at his shows. It lasted 45 minutes. For most of the audience, the show was proceeding according to a familiar routine. It was made even more familiar by Fela’s announcement at the end of the number that the band was going on a 15-minute break.
“If you like, you can go and smoke Igbo (marijuana) make you get sense,” Fela continued, as was his wont.
“If you like, you can go and drink ogogoro, whiskey, beer…and you can be sure that Lagos gutters will welcome you with open arms.
“But if you know you are tired of your life, and you now want to be useless to your family, go and shack gbana (heroin), cocaine…”
With this he went backstage while the band members went away to get refreshments and prepare for the Comprehensive Show. Exactly 15 minutes later, Fela reappeared on the stage, shirtless and his face painted in chalk and camwood, another familiar item in his routine.
“We would like to worship at our Shrine. And we would like you to give us a few moments of silence. Silence is not compulsory,” he said.
With this he went over to the Shrine, to the left side of the stage. The curtains had been drawn aside to reveal an assortment of objects, including photographs of his mother, Funmilayo Ransome- Kuti, Kwame Nkrumah and himself. Accompanied by a few of his followers, he began his rituals.
A bottle of Schnapps was opened by one of his assistants and poured into two calabash bowls. Fela then poured palm wine from a bottle kept at the ready and threw one kola nut into each bowl while the supplicants made incantations, intermittently raising their hands in an arm-fisted salute. Fela was then handed a white chicken. He twisted its neck until its blood started dripping. He poured the blood into the bowls and mixed the concoction, whereupon he drank deeply from one of the bowls beforepassing to his fellow worshippers. Some partook, others did not.
Worship over, Fela returned to the stage and an assistant handed him a giant, one-foot-long wrap of marijuana already lit. It was time for yabis. He puffed with relish, looked at the audience with a smile and said:
Fela: When fire enter for mouth nko-o!
Chorus: E go commot for nyash ni-ooooo!
Fela: Brothers and sisters. I was trying to find out the real meaning where white people got the name, wife. Wife. Iyawo. Me I know that in any other language iyawo means problem. Iya wo! Trouble. (Loud laughter) Because me know, those of us wey don enter spiritual life know say na women dey control before before… That is why women are called Alhaja. The Jah. The spirit that gave Mohammed power. Jah! Those are the spirits that the Rastas are worshipping. Jah! That’s why women are Alhajas. That’s why…because the war of the mind showing the place where the power of the spirit of the whole world is and knowing that shrine will be here, that is why we have Ikeja. (Loud laughter)
Voice from audience: All that one na story!
Fela: Because this is where we in our sector have come to face Jah, this is where Jah…Ikeja ni! The area of Jah. (Loud, prolonged laughter) What I’m saying is a very very serious thing! We now know the reason why Babangida go find power for Abu jaa! (Laughter) But Abuja means many things. Abuja in Yoruba means short-cut. (Laughter) So is Babangida going to short-cut to steal more? Or short-cut to craze? Which one gaaaan? Na all! Na to craze. Abuja. The women who have been ruling the world for 70 million years get their power from the underground spirits. Make I smoke this Igbo? (He looks at the dying embers of his giant wrap of pot.)
Voices from the audience: Smoke am! Smoke am! Smoke am!
(He takes successive, prolonged puffs.)
Fela: Brothers and sisters. Brothers and sisters. See. When the concert of Children of Africa was going to happen. I will tell you.
Voices: No! We no want! Onwuka don finish you!
Fela: Abeg, abeg, abeg, abeg. (Makes gesture of contempt.) I’ve been talking in this place (Talking to somebody in the audience)…And those people wey dey follow me know…We’re not preaching about God, Jesus Christ. We are preaching about ourselves, our minds. What we’ve got to learn. What we should look for. Where the power is. You know, I told you I did politics. I entered politics to the full brim. From politics I catch spirit. And from spirit I see say this world no be one, na two. One extra one wey come dey on top makes three. (Shouts of disbelief) You see my sisters. So wetin we dey talk today na de thing we dey scatter country dey go. But we must be alive for the end will come. The end of this confusion must come by their own hand. But by, well the way they’re doing it…they way things dey go. See. Now. As we dey talk, this world is one and two and Babangida e come go Abuja to worship the spirit underground. There is a mountain in Abuja, that mountain is supposed to be the place where the most powerful spirits of the underground live. The mistake wey dem make be say…When women dey rule the world and they were busy confusing themselves - because women are always confusionists - they did not know that the top of Olumo Rock in Abeokuta as you see am so. I was told by a German surveyor in prison that the government has sent them to measure the highest point in West Africa. The highest point in West Africa is Olumo Rock in Abeokuta. Because they do not want people to know that the secret of the power was under that rock, they gave the name Abeokuta [Abeokuta: the town under the rock]. So that anybody who goes there can curse under stone. But really the meaning of that area is Ori Olumo.
So Babangida go Abuja now. Go find power. Aikhomu dey for Lagos, ‘im no go any where, ‘im na transmitter. (Laughter) Children of Africa, dem come. Onwuka Kalu is a small, you see there are so many gods in this world. Him sef come do ‘im own. So when ‘im come my house, I see am. Before me I see you, I see your spirit, I see everything. So I see am. I say ok oh. Onwuka Kalu. Say this show na for wetin? If na for money o, pay me. E say no, na for children of Africa…I say ok o. How much be gate fee. E say 10 to 15 naira, at most 20 naira. I tell am, I go do show for you. To show you I dey support, you know, me I be gaani oh! (Laughter) I say look, I go give you one number free, to put for record for children of Africa to make money. And my television rights, I give you free. We sign am. You dey hear me o? More..