The
cool breeze from the calm lake, the quiet humming noise from the
different lawn mowers positioned at strategic locations at the very posh
Agodi Gardens, Ibadan, keeps me company on this cool Friday morning.
The air is fresh and calm and one is reminded of what it was like
growing up in Ibadan. The ancient city appears to have turned a new
leaf. It is hard to imagine that one is reclining in Ibadan.

Tundun Adeyemo
Agodi
Gardens, situated near the Oyo State Secretariat has existed for ages
and it was previously called ‘Okun d’osa’ which means massive seas
turning into river. This forest beneath the Mokola Hills was probably
worshipped by the local pagans. Stories around ancestral worship are
enticing and captivating to read. Today, it is a different story as
there is evidence of revival. There are many churches that meet to pray
at the summit. Hearing their garrulous prayers adds colour to the
cultural landscape.
There is a momentary absence from buzzing
mosquitoes, as it is early in the morning and the power of the African
sun has yet to be felt. The children are delighted to chase after
lizards. It feels like South Africa, or Kenya, but it is Ibadan. Only
Ibadan. Our Ibadan. The Gardens has put Ibadan literally on the map of
the world and there is a pride when people ‘like’ your Agodi Gardens
pictures on Instagram. It is a plus for the government in Ibadan and a
‘dividend’ of democracy for the people.
The kind of detail and
finesse the Gardens exhibits does not beat the imagination, but it gives
ordinary people hope to believe that all things are possible. Before
the sensation of the Agodi Gardens, there were Trans Amusement Park and
the University of Ibadan Zoo. There are unconfirmed reports that the
Amusement Park has been taken over by the market people who have
encroached on the Amusement Park land. Memories of fun times at the
University Zoo linger and one hopes the Zoo has stayed the same.
Agodi
Gardens seem a world away from what is normal. It seems a place for the
city’s middle class, students and poor people with little spending
money. Just ten minutes away up the road, is an intersection that can
take you to Dugbe, Mokola, University of Ibadan, and literally to the
rest of the world. At this junction, you see the very people who bring
this city alive; people, who hustle and bustle for their daily bread. At
N500 per head, Agodi Gardens is competitively priced but one wonders
how long the Gardens will stay enthralling.
There is also the
question of whether or not Ibadan has come of age to be able to maintain
such a garden. Whilst we were there, a woman allowed her child to do a
wee on the grass near the play park. A couple more children doing that
and then air would be pungent and nauseous. Next-door is the
secretariat, where the executive governor has his office. The Grounds
and Facilities department seems to be on holiday as weeds have taken
over. It is the rainy season, to be fair, but it begs the question
whether Agodi Gardens will always remain in its flawless state.
Other
than the general filth that has been the characteristic of Ibadan, and
the filth you see when you are driving into the city, the good news
seems to be that the sleepy city is finally waking up. It seems. Never
has so much been thrown in the way of ordinary people. Ibadan boasts of
its own Dominoes Pizza, KFC, Mr Biggs’, multiple chains of Foodco
Stores, Shoprite malls, and a host of other shops. This new
commercialised Ibadan services the up-and- coming, retains the status
quo of those with old money and restricts harshly the spending power of
those who have not.
A part of me yearns for the old Ibadan, but in
spite of this fact, it is clear that the city is poised to make gains
for the next hundred years. Hundred years? Unfortunately, the city needs
to do more to attract either foreign visitors, Africans or other
Nigerians. The three million people living in Ibadan may not be enough
to generate the sales needed to keep Agodi Gardens and its leisure
resorts thriving. Famous hotels are closing and there is an indication
that people are not spending enough.
The terrain is harsh and the
business climate is unfriendly. Yet we must salute the bravery of those
who in spite of bad business climate set up and continue to trade. New
Bodija is now a high street. Shops, schools, banks and churches have
taken over.
Up and down the newly done roads, there is evidence of
an expansion in heavenly merchandise. Certain churches seem to have
their branches in more areas than others. People think in similar ways,
so for your money, there are so many school billboards, churches and
businesses. Other than the shops, the city is a service industry. The
day care centres and primarily schools are money-spinners whilst the
churches keep the fight on for new prospects by their adverts for
crusades, seminars and conventions.
The majority of the shops in
Ibadan sell imported products: shoes, bags, accessories and much more.
Ibadan has taken its place in the pride of nations by having its own
malls and escalators to go with it. Coupled with tickets and places to
buy vanilla ice cream and Smile Internet, Ibadan could be Dunstable
right now. Ibadan is obviously far from being London but in the pride of
cities, it is a force to reckon with.
The good thing it seems is
that more people are in work, at Agodi Gardens, the facilities team are
picking up litter and mowing the lawns. At malls, there were people with
massive brooms sweeping the floors and making sure it was tidy. It is
easy to believe all is well with Ibadan at a place like Agodi Gardens.
It is easy to believe that the ancient lazy city has arrived. If the
truth were to be told, the people do well to mask their frustrations and
pent up anger. Frustrations? We don’t produce anything. The goods sold
are mostly imported. The shop owners seem only interested in taking your
cash from you. Our shops and churches all seem to cater for our
present. Wages are still very low. But perhaps these are symptoms of a
worldwide era where the rich are richer and the poor are poorer. Yet
this is Ibadan where those who shop in the shops and the shop owners
feel they have ‘arrived’ and they are better than the rest of us.
I
belong to Ibadan and Ibadan belongs to me and I am pleased that Ibadan
is working and much better than I left it. But in ten years, would the
rich people of Ibadan want people like us in their city? Would this new
hard earned wealth be shared evenly? Would I be able to buy or build a
house, send my daughter to a good school in Ibadan?