LAGOS APRIL 26TH (URHOBOTODAY)-Before this Ghana thing happened, you know, I’d made a short trip back to Nigeria to commemorate the first anniversary of the sacking of Kalakuta Republic. It was while we were there in Nigeria that I married the twenty-seven girls of my group Africa 70. After that, of course, I returned to Ghana. You know the rest. That Acheampong motherfucker, who’s dead now, got his ass kicked good by Jerry Rawlings!
But before that happened while I’d been in Nigeria, Acheampong had gotten in touch with the Nigerian government. So when I came back to Ghana I was deported shortly after. Anyway, end January, I was with my group travelling by road back to Nigeria. I’d be looking at the fucking beautiful country and thinking how beautiful Africa is, man. My girls were tired. Most of them slept through that trip.
Now and then I’d look at them sleeping. And I’d think: “These girls have suffered plenty-plenty for me-o! For years. Some for eight years! Fearless women, these my girls. Good women, man!” And I said to myself: “Fela, these na good women-o! Shiiiiit!” On 20 February ‘78 I married all twenty-seven in a traditional ceremony.
The marriage had been originally planned for the 18th of February, the anniversary of the sacking of Kalakuta. But my lawyer messed that up. You know what happened? He must have planned it with Steve. When I think about it, the two of them were working on it together. Steve Udah. You don’t know him, man? A Black guy with plenty hair, a Bendel man, who used to be with me. Anyway, it was this Steve who came up to me and suggested: “Fela, why don’t you marry all your women?” He suggested it, or at least that’s what he thought then.
Actually, I’d been thinking of it all along myself. All this time, man, I’d been fucking these girls. When I was in Ghana I’d reached a point where I was just fucking them. Nobody else from the outside any more. Just them! So I married them. I wanted to. Now, coming back to that night when this Steve guy came to my house and said: “Fela, why don’t you marry these your girls?” “Steve, I’ve been thinking about it, man.” That’s how he got the idea that he’s put it in my head. But, you see, he had a small mind. I had a big mind. I wanted to do it ‘cause I wanted to do the right thing. He thought I wanted to do it for publicity. So the night before I was going to marry, Steve must have gone to the lawyer’s to plan some dubious shit among themselves, man. But I don’t know this at the time. You understand? Tunji Braithwaite was still my lawyer then. Kanmi Oshobu? He’d already gone, man. He split when they burnt my house. So when I was in detention, my brother Koye had got Braithwaite for me. Kanmi had just disappeared! We couldn’t find him, even to come and take up my case. He was too scared.
So we had to find an alternative. That’s how Braithwaite got involved, you know. Tunji Braithwaite! The day before the marriage, at 5 o’clock, we went to his office. We were to come next morning, 18 February at 10 o’clock. He said he had an apartment office upstairs which he would clean up for us and that the ceremony would take place there. It was planned. Everybody agreed. The next morning we arrive. What do I see? Press, man. Nothing but press! I’ve never seen so much press people like that in my life! Now, I’ve been playing everywhere in the world but till today I’ve never seen so many press people! Understand? Place was full of cameras, reporters. There was no room to move. Then Tunji Braithwaite suddenly stands up in front of all those people. “This marriage cannot take place. It is against public morals. And me, as Fela’s lawyer, I am going to advise him that it’s against the law of this country and that he may be prosecuted for bigamy.”
Man, did you hear that? Can you imagine? Ohhhhhh!!! I don’t know how I kept my body steady,man! I don’t know how I kept my demeanour up! It was like I’d been hit by lightning! I don’t know how I just stood cool. I was paralysed. I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t think. The place was in total confusion. All my women were there, standing behind me, dressed and made up, ready. They didn’t know what to think either. Flashbulbs were going off. Then the press asked: “Fela, what are you going to do now?”
–To Be Concluded Next Week
Culled From “Fela : This Bitch Of A Life” by Carlos Moore