Imelda fell in love with me and frequently had me over for dinner. I enjoyed going over there but as a convinced Catholic refused fornication.

          When her brother Eugene was on leave he stopped on his way to Calabar. I invited both of them over for a dinner of rice and stew washed down with Star beer and tea.

          Before he left my headmaster Ibekwe went to visit them. The conversation ran like as follows.

Ibekwe:  I am interested in Imelda because I have a young relative Andrew Anyamene who is at present studying in England who would like to marry her. However, she has been monopolized by Fabian Udekwu who is forever seen in her company.

          Eugene to Imelda: Is it true you are running around with Fabian? Is this the reason he invited me to dinner?

          Imelda:  It is true that I like Fabien but there is absolutely no sex involved. In any case even if sex was involved do I not have the privilege of choosing a man with whom I would spend the rest of my life?  Furthermore, if we decided not to marry but cohabit did our mother not cohabit with an Irish man to produce us?

They all parted ways and at my next visit Imelda told me what happened. I refused and wrote her a letter of ten pages imploring her to hold out till I had my education and decided.

The next time I saw her she said that if I would not have sex with her she would seek it somewhere else. She asked me for one of my trousers which disguised her as she went to the famous inspector of Police and got her fill.  We drifted apart till I left for America. That was it.

Two years of Pupil teaching

          I taught one of the first two years under the master Peter Anene. He was a very good man blessed with a wonderful wife and brilliant children. His son Peter got as far as Stanford University where the specialized in Emergency Medicine.

          Our duties include writings notes of lessons in which you stated --

1. Subject

2. Specific Object

3. Aim

4. Fellowship aids

5. Method

The notes of lessons were passed on to the master in the elementary classes to Anene,  in Standards I to VI to the head master Ndaquba.

One of the vivid memories of this period were my hobbies:  market gardening, music and typing.

The Market Garden

            My father being a farmer my interest in farming was natural. I would go to the Kingsway stores, an offshoot of the Niger Company and buy packets of seeds, mainly lettuce, green beans and cabbage, carrots and beets.

            I had a compost pit in which I deposited vegetables and leaves. This was turned from one pit to the other till we had four of them. Sowing and transplanting as well as weeding and cultivation and tending produced the most amazing results.

            I would harvest other crops and take the fruits to the market on Saturdays. Quite often I would earn enough money (from the sales to European cooks) to buy my own provisions - - the salary was quite meager.

Interest in Music

            One of my jobs as a pupil teacher was to act as sacristan. I had the keys to the Sacristy where the priest gets dressed before going into the alter to say mass.

            There was a choir-master called John Ogbu. Quite often he practiced on the organ in the gallery till late. I would go up to wait for him to conclude before locking up the church.

            During one of these waiting periods I developed an interest in playing the organ.

            I purchased a Smallwood tutorial and began to learn to read music and practice on the various keys. This interest continued into St. Charles and even through my stay at Loyola University in Los Angeles. Even during my residency program in Chicago.

Kimball Organ

            In Chicago I bought an organ from a man who lived on the outskirts of the city.  The man had bought a new a new Kimball organ which he thought he could play since he played an accordion. When he found he could not he place an advertisement in the Chicago Tribune for its sale. I drove over there and for a pittance of the cost bought the instrument and placed it in my apartment on Drexel Boulevard in South Side Chicago.

            Music was to have a great influence throughout my career.

Type Writing

            Our catechist had a typewriter. He also had a son Ben who possessed one of the best soprano voices I ever heard. I took interest in typing and practiced quite often. Later on in life during my Surgical residence in Cook County Hospital I could type out all my post-operative reports so legibly and neatly that of all the things Dr. Frearke said about me he always added “He kept the best medical records”.

Fabian Goes to St Charles

            After two years of cat and mouse games with Fr. Fox I was permitted to go to sit for the entrance examination to St. Charles.

            I recall the first test was a mental Arithmetic consisting of 20 sums for 20 minutes. I recall that I finished and scored 20/20. The next score was seventeen and then down. When the brothers[1] marked the papers one of them took interest in me and even went so far as to assist me with the rest of the papers.  I passed and prepared to enter school.

Preparation

            One had to get uniforms, books, knives and fork and plates, a bucket, towel etc. All through the Eastern Nigeria parish priest sent students from other parishes to train at St. Charles and return to teach in the parish for a bonded period of at least five years.

            We all assembled in St. Charles on January 7, 1945. That day I met Jacob Agwu who came from Umuahia parish. We developed a friendship which persists till today and extended to our wives and children. Years after we had parted and gone our separate ways Jacob married Europa from Sierra Leone, found himself an administrative officer in the Eastern Nigeria Liaison Office in London. The wife was a mathematical genius and after graduation had a fellowship to Denver. Somehow she was pregnant with her second child and the pregnancy had progressed to a stage where the airlines refused to take her [TO NIGERIA??]. Jacob wrote to me and she came and remained with us till she delivered.   She had the same services of our wonderful obstetrician Dr. Robert Stepso.

            Lucilda was delivered in the same maternity hospital  -- Lewis Memorial -- as my first three children.

A Typical Day in St. Charles

            The bell woke us up at 5am.  You rushed down to the bathrooms with your bucket of water. After bathing you got groomed and proceeded to the chapel for Mass at 6 am. After Mass you proceeded to the dining room for breakfast. The breakfast was akara and akamu, fried yam or plantain.   You were assigned a permanent seat in groups of 6. Plates of food were passed around and you took your own portion.

            What I recall about the meals was that it was a balanced diet and one could not complain about it. It certainly was developed by a dietitian who knew what he was doing.

Lunch

Lunch was served after classes -- usually after 1pm. It consisted of yam and stew and such other meals as porridge. After lunch we retired to our dormitories for siesta.

Study Period

Promptly at 2:30 p.m. the bell was rung and we again assembly in the classrooms to study till 5 p.m.

Games

At 5 p.m. we went for games. I chose football because during my pupil teaching days Fr. Fox had placed me in charge of the under five feet team and we had gone as far as Okigwe and defeated their team.

The Football Team

The football team had First and Second Divisions. There was a captain and the sportsmaster was Brother Austin.  Usually a senior student was the captain.  After the games we rushed to the stream bucket in hand. You take your bath in the stream and fetch water with your bucket for the next morning bath and rush back to school to start the whole process again.

First Year

            The first year was a breeze. It was great to get such wonderful teachings.  English was taught by the principal and Brother Malachy, Pius Iboko taught Arithmetic, Raymond Njoku taught Agriculture and Mgbulu taught Hygiene.  Apart from the routine one of the fondest memories of my first years were growing pains. I was quite stunted in my growth before St. Charles because of my irregular and at times real starvation.   You will recall Mrs. Nwosu almost starved me to death. I would lie for days on my bed with severe aching joints.   This cleared quickly enough that I found myself six inches taller when I left St. Charles.  I entered the college under 5 feet tall and came out 5 feet 6 inches.

Third Year

            By the third year I became the choirmaster.  The choirmaster is in charge of the college choir which sang at the chapel and at High Masses, Corpus Christi processions (which started at Holy Trinity Cathedral and ended at St. Charles).  The choirmaster also organized the annual concert to which other schools are invited. I successfully carried out my duties here for our Corpus Christi. I introduced new tunes of “Tantum Ergo.”[2]

The Concert

The choir sang “How Excellent” and there was also a poetry recitation.  I recited  “The Pied Piper of Hamelin.” The year was most successful.

The Fourth Year

The fourth year in St. Charles brought more challenges and great opportunities. For some strange reason also it was in 1945 the year the Second World War ended. I was appointed the football captain. Rev. Brother Andrew was the sportsmaster. Before this I used to have spritely tennis games with him.

            There were two football teams. The first eleven was the cream of the crop. The second served as a sparting team which also supplied competition for places in the first team. One must merit his position.

            We had a good group of players, particularly in our strikers. Probably the best player in our team was our central midfielder -- Mike Nwabuno. He was a ferocious defender that could match Rio Ferdinand of Manchester United. Our annual schedule of games consisted of matches against fellow teacher training colleges such as St. Marks, Awka; C.K.C., Onitsha; C.I.C., Enugu; and several invitational’s.

Preparation for Serious Matches

Ten days before any serious competition we had a routine.  In the morning we had our physical work out and in the evening there would be a match between Team I & II.  The physical fitness part of the programme was the secret of our success. We would assemble at the crack of dawn and run the three miles on Enugu-Onitsha Road to the famous Iyi - Enu Hospital.   After a brief rest we ran back and continued with the usual school routine.

Three matches in that year were most exceptional. Probably the one with DMGS was the best. We played well at DMGS and at an invitational game against the Port Harcourt Eleven which was one of the best teams in those days.

The game against DMGS.

            We sported a new uniform made famous by a star of previous year --Ethelbert Eze. It had a characteristic “V” in the front and the back just like our Scout uniform and was most striking.

            The game was at DMGS field which was located in the centre of town at the crossroads of the Enugu - Onitsha and Onitsha - Owerri roads.  The principal of DMGS was Mr. Clark, a no nonsense administrator and athlete. In C.K.C. was the famous Rev. Father Flanagan who did not hesitate to crack a whip in misbehaviors which include loss of football games.

            One must remember that in those days every one in Nigeria, including the national team that beat several distinguished teams of the British Premier League, played barefoot. The London Times in those days described left winger Titus Okere of the national team as worth several millions and a row of houses. Even today Nigerians like J.J. Okocha, Kalu Newankwo etc. [are prominent worldclass footballers].

That Particular Game of 1945

The particular game was like a war between Catholics and Anglicans.  On one side were the avid Catholic supporters -- primary school students from Holy Trinity and St. Mary’s and convent girls from QRC [Queen of the Rosary school] in Odoakpu [Onitsha]. On the Anglicans side were students from their primary schools and A.G.S [Anglican Girls’ Secondary School].

            Other interested people including members of other Secondary Schools sent scouts to check on the team’s strength. To ensure total impartiality, the referee was a Colonial Government officer, an Oxford graduate.

The first half

The first half was most remarkable. DMGS had several star players including three very good players:  Ogugua a left winger – striker, Adachukwu --  a right winger, and the one who was probably the most striking member of their team  -- Ekpunubi.

            He was a giant compared to any one in that field and could easily touch the top of the goal post. One is reminded of Oliver Kahn of the Bayer Munich Team. Ekpunubi was such a bully that he struck the heads of players who tried to head the ball into his goal.

            When the striker’s complained to me at half time I suggested the Maradona approach of the hand of God. Pull your uniform well over your hands so that the referee would not notice it. Attack him in a gang of two or three and scratch his face, forgetting about the ball at this particular instance.

The process worked wonders.

The First Goal

Within the first minutes of the game Ogugua was passed the ball. We had a right half back called Osoko from Nsukka parish.  Ogugua shouldered him to within the 18 yards and instead of crossing the ball as everyone would expect struck at the goal and scored to the thunderous applause of the Protestant supporters and the dismay of the Catholics.

            I quickly changed places with Osoko. I moved to the right half from my left half and marked Ogugua.  Ogugua hardly was a threat throughout the rest of the game. Between me and Nwabuzor, the centre, half our strikers were supplied and they incessantly raided the DMGS goal.

Before long we equalized and went ahead 2-1 by half time.

At Half Time

At half time we were supplied an orange each and sometimes a cube of sugar. Those were no Gatorades!

            At half-time all the players discuss the tactics. There were no coaches to go to. Each team sat on the grass on its own side of the field. There were no Alex Fergusons allowed in the games.

The Second Half.

            The second half went well and we ensured our success with another goal. Thus the game ended 3-1 in our favor.

At the sound of the last whistle there was a roar of applause from the Catholic supporters. The convent girls rushed into the field and literally carried me on their shoulders the whole of the distance between DMGS and St. Charles.

            When we arrived at the gate I begged them to put me down as girls were not allowed into the compound -- a fact brought home to us in the recent expulsion of Ethelbert Eze who used to sneak out of the compound at night to a nearby building across the River Nkisi road to chase a girl[3] who was in love with him.  Ceceilia Egwatu was so much enamored with Ethel that once during a game in St. Mary’s field some opponent knocked him down she unbashfully ran into pitch and dusted off the dust on Ethel whilst showering abuses on the culprit.

            When Ethel was caught by Brother Bairns he was summarily thrown out St. Charles even though he was merely three days away from graduation. I saw Ethelbert in Monrovia, Liberia, several years later on my way to the U.S. on the M.V.DEL RIO. He later stowed away to the U.S. like many students in those days and studied drama at university. He changed his name to Ezenta Eze and later returned to Lecture at the University of Nigeria Nsukka.

The Disastrous Game

The second significant game of 1945 was against CIC, Enugu.  CIC was a late comer to the struggle for excellence in academics and culture.[4] The principal traveled far and wide and assembled a team which became quite famous – For example, from Calabar he imported Yarga.

            The day we played that team in Enugu it rained cats and dogs. We played miserably and were beaten 4-1.

Invitational success

We had success on our invitational trip to Port Harcourt to play the famous Eleven - a precursor to the even more famous Enyimba club. They had a great dribbler of a striker called Young.  Immediately the ball was passed to him he dribbled into the path of our center half MIKE NWABUNOR. He tossed the ball playfully inviting him to make a move and be dribbled. Nuabunor charged into him and cleared him and the ball in one quick move. Young was subdued and we went on to win. During the social which always follows some of these matches there was always plenty of eating, drinking and dancing.

World  War II

In 1943 there was a terrible strike at St. Charles College.  Having observed that the laborers in the compound lived on meager meals like roast yam and palm oil and water, the principal, Brother Malachy, tried to change our diet.

            The senior students campaigned against this and one day refused to eat or carry on with the college routine.

            Bishop Heerey promptly intervened. He dismissed the two older class leaders and sent us into religious retreat under a very holy priest Fr. -----.[5]

            On the second day of the retreat in the early hours of the day one of the senior students wailed loudly bemoaning the fact that only a few leaders were select to suffer for our collective misdemeanor.

            En masse they all [these senior students?]  elected to leave. Whereupon the Federal Govt who paid for our upkeep promptly conscripted them and sent them to fight in BURMA.

            A few days later six of us could not bear the stay and wanted to leave. Brother Malady elected to send us to Bishop Henry who talked us into staying.

            There was no radio or television in the School. The Franciscans had a radio and every morning summarized the progress of the war with notes left in the main class room. After lunch we would dash to catch up with the news.

My Support of Germany

I was fascinated by the exploits of the Wehrmacht. The dashing Panser moves in which the Germans broke through defenses and were refueling their tanks from the enemy petrol stations amazed me. The colonialists that I knew were the British.  And the enemy of my enemy was my friend  --  I thought.   Jacob Agwu, my best friend, supported the British and would regale me with the Nazi atrocities against Jews. I answered that it was all British propaganda.  I could not imagine anyone that wicked. It was only several years later in the U.S. when I came in contract with one of Chukwuemeka Ifeagwu’s girl friends --- a girl who was smuggled from Austria to Scotland and later wound up at North Manchester College outside Chicago  --- would I be convinced of the atrocities. Much later in life I visited the famous Anne Frank Museum[6] in Amsterdam.   And read “Schindler’s List”  It was only then that I realized then the tales of Nazi atrocities were true.

            Despite my pro-German stance during the war, when the war ended I led the student body in celebration with the marching song.

March on to Victory

            In December 1945 we parted ways and each graduate returned to his parish after the written and oral and practical teaching examinations.

            I was one of those few who returned to teach in an urban area as most other graduates were sent to open new rural schools.

            Fr. Fox sent me to St. Patrick’s Coal Camp [Enugu]. My stay at this school from 1946 until1947 will be the suspect of the next chapter.

My First Year at St. Patricks

Man, proud man,

Dressed with brief authority

plays fantasy tricks

as would made angels in

high leaven weep.[7]

                                                                                    Quotation Cit.

Friends, [Romans,] countrymen

lend me your ears

I come to praise Caesar

Not to mourn him.

The evil that men do

lives after them.

The good is often interred

with their bones.        

-- Mark Anthony in the funeral oration of Julius Caesar after he was stabbed to death by both enemies and even Brutus—Et Tu Brutus!

            My arrival was heralded by ominous omens. The head master was no longer the great Charles Ndaguba but a laconic short black asthmatic from Ozubulu called  Ibekwe. In preparing for the new year 1946 he would go to Fr. Fox who was the manager and ask questions like “Who should I make the gamemaster, the choirmaster etc?”  To each questions he received the answer, “Don’t worry, Fabian is coming.”

            He was consumed with jealousy and when I arrived proceeded to show me up as unworthy of the trust Fr. Fox exhibited on me.

Settlement into the Teaching Staff

            Whilst at St. Charles I had two hobbies, music and cartography.

            During the 2^nd World War supplies like maps exhibited in schools were not available. Geography was my favorite subject and art work my interest.  In the college students were encouraged to paint wall murals. I did one on the Sacred Heart of Jesus.  For sculpture we had a wonderful artist, Okechukwu, who did some marvelous sculptures of a standard that would compare favourably with Ben Enveonwu.[8] I tried quite hard to sculpt[the] cardinal.[9]

            On the practical side every Saturday I would make maps particularly ones that were not easily available like Iboland. I would purchase a water proof wall mat, draw in pencil the various maps and when satisfactory paint on it with Kandar indelible ink. I must say that unlike my forays in sculpture that they [turned] out amazingly successful. The results were marketable and I peddled them along the schools on the Enugu - Onitsha road.

            I made enough money to purchase before all the furniture I needed before I arrived. These consisted of a bed, comforter, a writing desk, chairs and tables and dining crockery.  As well as the cooking utensils Robinson, my last master at the prisons in Enugu, purchased all these things and stored them in his attic pending my arrival in 1946.

            I was assigned room No. I in the teachers’ quarters. Incidentally it was the same room that I had occupied as a pupil teacher except that this time I had no roommate since I was now a certificated teacher.

I moved in with my two half brothers, Fred and Ben. Fred gained entrance to C.I.C and would go to school from our new home. Ben was in elementary school and attended St. Patricks. He had a lovely unbroken soprano voice and was one of my soloists singing “Panis Angelicus.” Ben was in charge of domestic work  -- going to the market to purchase ingredients, making the soup in the kitchen.

One great advantage was that being close to the colliery quarters we had running water from the pump for cooking drinking and washing.

            At night Fred and Ben studied by electric light and slept either in mats or the wide seater I had acquired. 

Living was quite satisfactory. My clothing was quite in fashion. I acquired several materials which I took to the tailors in Onitsha market to sew. At that time there was a tailor from our area[10] called Denis Ezendu. You purchased the materials --  for instance one and a half yards of material for trousers, and take it to his shed in the famous Onitsha main market. He would take your measurements very carefully, cut out and sew the article. He always insisted that one buy a good pair of shoes that would bring out the beauty of the trousers. Shirts and ties were also worn, on the head the tropical helmet.

For transport one purchased a bicycle. That most popular one in those days was the Raleigh.   I had all these apparels.

One of the best suits I had was a white flannel suit which I wore with white suede shoes. I also had a Nanny Blue suit and black shoes to match. The blue suit I wore on Sundays whilst conducting the choir or taking my turn interpreting sermons from the altar at Sunday Masses.

A Typical Day in St. Patricks

            One woke up as early as 5 am. Ben would warm water in a kettle and fill the bucket and take it down to the bathrooms ---  a separate building towards the valley and set in cubicles.

            After bathing your dress and get into the church in time for the 6’oclock mass. After Mass you get your breakfast usually:  usually fried yam or plantain, akara and akamu or puff puff and pancakes. Your mentor comes to lift your desk with the books for the day including of course your notes of lessons duly corrected by the headmaster. School starts with an assembly consisting of marching to the tunes of school band; inspection of uniforms, hair, teeth and hands; morning prayers followed with a hymn; announcements.  At mid day there is a break for thirty minutes.  School closes at 1 pm.

Your monitor returns your desk with the books including homework exercise books which the teacher must correct before the next day.

Standard Six B

            Mr. Ibekwe appointed me to teach Standard VI B. He taught standard VI A.        He picked all the bright students and put them in Standard VI A.  In Standard VI B he placed all weaker students and adult ones including one Mr. Obianozie who later was father to one of my sons-in-law, Emeka Obianozie.

            I would take the exercise books from these very poor students, filled with corrections in red ink, as evidence to protest to the head master.  All to no avail.

Extra Lessons

            To improve on my results I established free extra lessons for one hour in the evenings of Mondays, Wednesdays and Saturdays. Mr. Ibekwe ran such a class also for students who were anxious to gain entrance to prestigious colleges like Kings College, CKC, DMGS and the Government Colleges at Umuahia and Afikpo.

            The difference was that he charged one shilling a month while my lessons were free. The result was that when his students heard of my classes they deserted him and came to mine.  I must have had a knack for teaching because even college students[11] such as the Nwakobys from CIC sought my services.

            When Joseph Okoye was seeking admission to Howard University he brought me the admission form to answer the question “Why do you want to come to Howard University.” I wrote if for him and he gained admission.

When Mr. Ibekwe saw that the number of students in his extra classes was dwinding and they were coming to my lessons instead he came to me and said, “Nigerians do not appreciate anything they get for free. You must charge for your extra lessons.”

          I agreed and instead of charging one shilling a month I doubled my fees to two shillings per month just to discourage the desertions from his class. This did not discourage the deluge of deserters continued. Perhaps they knew something because later some remarkable results showed up in the examination results.

Somehow Mr. Ibekewe got hold my record book in which I recorded the names of the students and the payments thereof and took it to Fr. Fox saying that I was contravening the rules of the Nigeria Union of Teachers.

          Without ever asking me to hear my own side of the story Fr. Fox withheld my salary for that month. One of the convent teachers -- Rose Ochuba  -- gave me half of her salary for that month.

          In the meantime and without my knowledge one of my friends  -- the present Justice Nnamkea Agu  -- got an article published in the Nigeria Spokesman (one of the Zik’s group of anti-colonialist newspapers; West Africa Pilot in Lagos and the West and another in KANO were others). The article was captioned “The Wolf Man.”  It described some of the nefarious activities of Mr. Ibekwe and appeared in the gossip section of the newspaper which was run by one James Nwachukwu under the pen name Tom Tinkle.

          Mr. Ibekwe retorted in a scathing article aimed at the assassination of my character.  The article was beautifully written, I suspect by Andrew Anyamene, who later became a barrister and Ibekwe’s son-in-law.

I quickly filled an exercise book with gory details of their habits including their drinking habits in which people would take aspirin to delay the onset of drunkenness.

I released the exercise book to James Nwachukwu and soon articles appeared on Mondays Wednesdays and Fridays. “Re-The Wolfman Part I, II, III.” The sale of the newspapers rocketed in Enugu and the editor, one Mr. Anueyiagu of Awka, was most pleased.

          The scandal rocked Enugu and after 6 publications Fr. Fox sent Mr. P.C. Peters, an excellent Catholic chemist, to plead with me to cease and desist.  My answer was simple “Am I Tom Tinkle?”

The Late Bishop Okoye

          Finally Fr. Fox delegated a young native priest, the late Bishop Okoye, to come to see me.   I told F. Okoye the whole story. He was shocked and conveyed the true facts to Fr. Fox. Finally Fr. Fox called me and asked only to know why I had not told him. My answer was simple: “Father, you never asked me.”

Correspondence Tuition

            Right from the first start when I commencenced teaching at St. Patrick’s I also enrolled in a correspondence course with Wolsey Hall in Oxford for a course towards the University of London Matriculation examination.  My subjects were English Language, Mathematics (Arithmetic, Geometry and Trigonometry), History (British Empire) and Geography.

This was how the correspondence course operated:  First you contact the college by mail. 

After receiving your payment, the college appoints one of the Oxford University lecturers to be your tutor. He or she would write introducing him or herself. A textbook is prescribed and you purchase that. Each week you read the chapters prescribed.  When a chapter has essay questions, you write them on foolscap paper and mail to the tutor. The tutor corrects the answers and then mail them back to you. Some of the tutors were marvelous. I remember one who wrote saying how much he appreciated my hard work in glowing personal tones pointing out that they had heard of the industry of some of the Ibos.

            There were certainly some marvelous Ibos – people such as Chike Obi  --  Ph.D in Mathematics  and Pius Okigbo  --  B.A., LL.B., and Ph.D in Economics.

Apart from Wolsey Hall there was another popular correspondence college course, “Rapid Results”.

The London Matriculation Exam

            After 18 months of serious study I went to Port Harcourt, the assigned center for the London University examinations for that year. I did not have any troubles in English Language and Geography and, surprisingly, Latin. It was Trigonometry that gave me some problems. However I adopted a methodical approach. What I came to a difficult question I would bypass it and go to the next. It was a very good method to go through the whole paper before beginning your answers.  That way, you pick up the easiest ones and assign a definite time to the questions so you do not make the mistake of spending all the time on questions you find easy only to rush through the difficult ones at the end. After all, most questions carry an equal number of marks.  Unlike the American System of true or false questions the British system feeds and thrives on essays.  This became evident to me when I became a visiting professor at Nuffield College, Oxford, with Phillip Allison.[12]

The Results

            Three months after the examination the results are sent by cablegram to the individuals concerned and later certificates awarded.

Celebration

            When the results came out I had passed.  Many others, even some who attended C.K.C., did not pass.  I threw a party and slaughtered a goat; we ate rice and nni-oka and had beer and palm wine.  It was in this period that two things happened as a reward for my industry.  The first was that Denis Okafor promised to send me abroad if I married his daughter.  The second auspicious thing was that C.K.C., CIC and St. Charles all wanted me to come to teach.

Movement to Onitsha 1948

            I was happy that I had become a hot commodity.  Not sure which school I should choose, a meeting with Brother Malachy, the principal at St. Charles, made up my mind for me. Brother Malachy sent for me and said to me, “Fabian I find it very difficult to comprehend that I would have to fight with CKC and CIC for your services.”  I surrendered and agreed to go to teach at St. Charles.

Back to Teach at St. Charles

            It was a pleasure to leave Enugu with the experience I had accumulated working under Ibekwe. I went with my wards Fred and Ben. We had better living quarters this time with a whole house with several rooms—bedroom, living room, servants’ quarters and our outside kitchen. I was able to secure a transfer for Fred from C.I.C. to C.K.C., a luxurious opportunity which Benson had denied me even though he could afford it. Ben went next door to St. Mary’s.

A Typical Day

            The beginning of the day was very much like at Enugu. One woke at 5 a.m., took a bath and dressed then went to Mass. After Mass, breakfast and off to classes. The staff consisted of the Franciscans Brothers and several Nigerians. Among the Nigerians were Mr. P.N. Okeke and Pius Iboko. P.N. Okeke later rose to become a Minister of Agriculture after successfully organizing the Non-Onitsha Ibos against Zik’s NCNC.[13] One of his accomplishments was in real estate as he succeeded in acquiring three blocks of flats opposite the Hotel Presidential in Port Harcourt as well as the present Zodiac Hotel Enugu. After the civil war efforts by the Rivers State to acquire his property as abandoned property by Diete Spift were successfully fought in courts by his lawyer, Chief Rotimi-Williams.

My Specific Subjects

I taught Geography, Arithmetic, Art and Music.   The lessons lasted forty-five minutes.

We had a common room in which we waited to take our turns going to lecture. If you were unlucky enough to have your lessons scheduled after Bro Malachy you were sure you could be sure he would your class would not start on time as he never stopped his own lectures on time.

             The teaching was most pleasurable because the students were keen and industrious.

Extra curricular responsibilities.

            I was chosen to train as a scout master and to resurrect the old St. Charles scout troop with its distinguished and unique uniform. I had to go to Owerri for ten days for the training. At the end I placed quite high in the exams and became, upon return to St. Charles, the Secretary of the Onitsha Scout Association and held this post till I left for America.

            My other extracurricular activity was a new postal correspondence adventure. Aross the street, in the Nzegwu compound, were several tutors teaching at private colleges such as Metropolitan and Africa College. One of them was my friend Philip Nnaemeka Agu. We registered for B.A. (inter) of London University.

            I chose Wolsey Hall and Philip chose Rapid Results. My subjects were English Literature, Geography and Latin.

English Literature

            This course consisted of a survey of the development of the English language from the Beowulf to modern times. In other words the texts prescribed were from Chaucer to Wordworth.  We read Chaucer’s Clark’s Tale and the prologue, Spencer’s Fairy Tales, Marlowe’s Dr. Faustus, Shakespeare’s Comedies (As You like it, Romeo and Juliet) and Tragedies (Macbeth and Julius Caesar), Milton’s Lycidas and Paradise Lost and Wordsworth Tintern Abbey and his Collected Poems.[14] 

 Latin

            Apart from the texts that would enable one to acquire sufficient knowledge to translate from Latin to English and vice versa we had two special books, one in poetry and the other in prose.

            After 18 months of gruesome study I sat for the examinations with my friend Philip. Philip presented the same subjects except that he had History instead of my Geography.   The study preparation went well except that I spent most of the time in Latin on the poetry – especially of Catullus -- and not enough on the prose.

The Results

            I made a B in English literature and Geography. In Latin I made a D and therefore failed the whole examination. My friend Philip made C in all three and passed.  This success immediately changed his life. He was appointed the principal of Priscilla Secondary School in Oguta. There he was paid a good salary that enabled him to go to England to study law at the Middle Temple. Following his return he progressed rapidly to become a judge and went even as far as the World Court.

My disappointment was obvious but fortune had other goodies in store for me.

Preparations for Departure

It was stipulated in one’s contract that every graduate of the teacher training colleges had to teach for five years. I was in the last six months of this period when I applied for exemption in order to pursue my dream to go the United States to study. At that time the British government did not find it comfortable to deal with Nigeria graduates of American universities. Zik, Orizu, and Mbadiwe were all thorns in their flesh.

Liaison Officers

           

Every student who wanted to go to the US to study had to go through the liaison officer. At the time when I went o apply for permission to enter the United States an American, the officer was a lady who had the habit of inviting candidates to interview at odd times and various places. One time in Lagos, the next in Jos. The aim was to frustrate the candidate into abandoning the process.  You could not apply for your Nigerian passport without  a clearance paper from her. I remember meeting Essien Udom at interviews in Jos. At the last interview in Lagos I adopted a confrontational attitude. I entered her office and locked the door and threatened violence.

            “You must give me the clearance today or we die together. I have completed all your requirements including the ₤20 for the six months short of my contract.”

            She relented and gave me the clearance; took me to a world map to show me that US was so vast that it was greater than the distance from Nigeria to Kenya. I took the clearance and literally ran home.

Financing the Trip

           

            I was the financial secretary of EBU[15] and applied for a loan of ₤300. There was a talkathon by Eric Okam.  Mr. Denis Okafor had promised to assist me. This was sabotaged by Ben Udenze -- a supposed fried.

            I therefore tapped all my friends, travelled all over Nigeria to areas where there were Enugu-Agidi people. I even delved into real estate. I applied to Victor Modebe for a plot in Modebe Layout. He gave me one which I sold to a man from the Midwest for ₤90.   Realizing that I could not afford an airfare I applied to various shipping companies for a berth. The one that finally materialized was through the French Trading company SCOA in Lagos via the Mississippi Shipping Company from Lagos to New Orleans.

Travel Documents

Passport

            Having gotten the clearance I now needed a passport and a visa.

            Getting a passport issued was another problem. You could do very few things in Nigeria without bribing someone. Mr. Mora gave me an introductory letter to one inspector Ozue from Agulu.

            When I went to see Ozue, instead of the matter at hand he offered to sell to me material for sewing trousers and he asked for three times the cost of material which was seized from Customs. I offered to pay one third (₤1.10) which I assessed was the real cost of the material and promised to bring the rest [of the money] on my way out.

            The next morning I returned to the immigration office on my own. There I met one inspector Alphonsus Nwagbo, a most handsome man in well-washed and ironed uniform which his statuesque stature did justice too. He took one look at my application and said “Come in Friday and get your passport.” What a most pleasant surprise.

            I had no trouble getting the visa from the American Embassy except that one had to wait his turn in the massive lines in waiting rooms which were not air conditioned, and once in a while someone would collapse and once one even died.

            Armed with passport and visa I was ready to travel to the U.S. 

Now, I had to collect enough money to leave. I travelled all over Nigeria to towns and hamlets that had a collection of Enugu-Agidi friends and relations, begging for funds. I even dabbled in real estate as I reported earlier.

            For my closest friends I drew up a contract for them to send me £4 each year through Mr. Mora. I would repay them with 10% interest. Mr. Mora would collect the money and add ₤50 and send to me. They all did this the first year, 1951, after which I wrote and told them that I could get along without the support because I had secured a work scholarship in addition to my tuition scholarship.

            It was on one of those trips to raise money that I received a telegram from S.C.O.A Lagos saying I should report to Lagos and be prepared to travel to the U.S.

 I was visiting my younger sister and her husband, a bus driver, Joe Ofiali. They collected what little they could give me and I recall holding their second child Chime as I kissed them goodbye and left by train to Enugu.

            From Enugu I traveled by mammy wagon to Onitsha. There Benson was on his monthly trips from Ogoja. Mora gave me another ₤50. All and all I had the equivalent of ₤500.

            To my greatest surprise my uncle Benson[16] did not contribute one penny to my trip. Rather he said to me “Bring the money you have collected and let us share it.” I was surprised that even that stage of my travails he never thought I could make it to the US.

            I bid farewell to Mora and took the ferry across the Niger to Asaba.  At Asaba I took Ojukwu Transport which travels between Asaba and Lagos every morning. The fare was minimal as Ojukwu, an astute Nnewi trader, charged traders very little on their onward trip to Lagos but made his profits they returned with bulky wares.

In Lagos I stayed at Obalende with Charles Okoye and Nelson Okam.  I transferred  ₤500 through Mr. Mora’s account at the BBWA.[17] Instead of the exchange rate of 5 dollars to the ₤1 the British government had devalued the pound so it was now worth only $2.80. Thus I was deprived of forty percent of my hard earned cash. All in all when I arrived in the U.S, I had a total of $312 to my name.

            On my first morning in Lagos, armed with the telegram I had received from SCOA, I went to their office to secure my fare. To my surprise the Nigerian clerk at the desk said there was no vacancy. It was the usual Nigerian way of soliciting for bribe. I was shocked and made such a ruckus that the French trader boss came to my rescue. He checked in his office and came back to me and said “The ship is in Monrovia (Liberia). I shall cable them right away and if there is a berth you will have it. Check with me in two days time. “

            I went back to Obalende and when I reported in two days he said, “You have a berth.   Bring me ₤112 and you have your booking.”

             I did not have that much with me and had to travel back to Onitsha to Mr. Mora to get the amount. I came back just as the ship arrived and paid my fare.

            On August 8^th 1950 at 8 a.m. on a beautiful day we sailed from Apapa to the U.S. I stood on the deck surveying the last view of my beloved country. I suddenly became sea sick.  I had violent dizziness, nausea and copious vomiting. I rushed back to the bunker[18] which was way down in the cellar of the ship.

            After several hours I realized I would die because no-one seemed to care. The ship S.S. Del Rio was one of a fleet that was owned by the Mississippi Shipping Company of New Orleans[19] and all the sailors, except one student from the University of Pennsylvania at Philadelphia, were white.[20] He was on a summer job serving as the ship Purser.

            I managed to get up to the deck and lying there felt much better. I also was able to eat and retain my food.

            On board here were many beautifully illustrated and fascinating journals. I remember vividly reading the story of the abdication of the British Monarch Edward VIII who preferred to abdicate rather than leave his divorced American consort.  I thought he was wrong in choosing self over duty.

Our first stop was in Takoradi in Ghana and there we loaded some timber. I went ashore briefly to see some of the remnants of the slave trade.

Our next stop was in Monrovia, Liberia. We had several days on shore. I went out to the town and found a Catholic church and went to confession.

To my surprise there also lurking around the ship was Ethelbert Eze of the St. Charles debacle. We talked at length about his search for his own golden fleece. Very few foreigners know that the early migrants[21] to the U.S. from West Africa were

stowaways, including the great Nnamdi Azikiwe.

            In Monrovia we picked up four Liberian girls going to the U.S. to study. Knowing fully well they were creoles[22] and not the original native Liberians I limited my contact with them to the minimal.

A Typical Day on the Ship

           

One woke up early, a habit from St. Charles and St. Patrick when we had to attend morning Mass at six A.M. After bath and breakfast I would proceed to the deck to read. I took two books with me, “Aggrey of Africa”[23] by Edwin Smith and the “Collected Poems” of William Wordsworth.

Together with the magazines I was quite happy with the month long voyage. The first sight of land was when we bypassed Puerto Rico.

Finally we hit the U.S. mainland, reaching the Mississippi Delta. We still had one hundred miles to sail up the Delta to New Orleans. I stood on the deck admiring the view of terra firma with the lush green mangrove trees anchored by weaving roots into the soil.

Suddenly a bite on my hand. I instinctively struck it, only to find a mosquito. What on earth was mosquito doing in America!

            My concept of America was what I saw in the “Wizard of Oz” and the weekly visits to the Lebanese-run Broderick’s Hall in Ogui, Enugu, to watch movies. Occasionally, instead of movies set in America, there was “Tarzan.”

            When we landed I was met by Clement Nweze .  I knew Clement from Warri where he worked as a Customs officer before coming to the U.S. to study at the all-black college, Xavier University of New Orleans.  I had travelled to Warri when I was a student, sailing on the Niger from Onitsha, to visit Mr. Nwosu after he was transferred there from Enugu.  You will recall that when Mr. Nwosu was transferred I had refused to go along because of the disruption to my education.

            I was processed by Immigration on the ship and the officer pointed out that my visa would have expired in three days.      

            Mr. Nweze took me by bus to the YMCA.  On the bus I saw for the first time in my life the sign in the back “FOR OUR COLORED PATRONS ONLY.” We dutifully complied with the directive.

            Mr. Nweze loaned me the fifty dollars that paid my fare by train on the Sunset Limited from New Orleans to Los Angeles

            Because my booking had been done from abroad, the railway authorities had assigned me to an all-white section. When they took a look at me they quickly reassigned me to the “Colored Patrons Only” section. Where we stopped in Austin, Texas, a poor black girl came aboard and she had the same seat number. I willingly surrendered the seat to her and with another passenger roamed the train, spending much time in the restaurant car.

            When we arrived in Los Angeles I was met by Chukwuemeka Ifeagwu who was then a student at Pepperdine University. He had a car and drove me to Loyola University in Westchester, near Howard Hughes Airport. The Loyola priests were expecting a Nigeria student - John Iboko, on an Orizu work scholarship. They mistakenly placed [me] in the work scholarship area --- living with the Jesuits.  When Iboko arrived a few days later, I was moved to the hostel. I went to the president and told him I did not have enough money to pay for my boarding [at the hostel].  Protesting he said “We do not do business this way. Anyway you are welcome; you can have the work scholarship.” There were twelve of us living with the Jesuits; the work varied, from sweeping classrooms, washing dishes in the dining hall to working as a clerk in the treasury.  The latter was my luck.

            Another important job we did was to drive the Jesuit priests around. The order had ten Dodge cars in the garage. All the keys were in the room of Fr. O’Rourke, the Procreator or Father-Mother.[24] Often, he would say to one of us, “Take the key of car No. six and drive Fr. Graham to Blessed Sacrament in Hollywood to say Mass. He will have to find his way back so you get back here and no loitering around.”

Registration

            Originally I thought of registering in Chemistry but when I learned that it would not include all the premedical courses I registered in Biology as the major.  Before the registration I was invited for a meeting by Professor Sullivan, the leading world specialist on Thomas Moore’s “Henry VI.”  An article I wrote was published in three installments in the Los Angeles Loyolan.  Professor Sullivan told me that I must not register in any courses in English below the Junior level.

I therefore registered for First Year Chemistry, Mathematics, Physics, Speech, Philosophy etc. I took courses in Advanced English.

            Thus whilst making my first contact with Science  -- physics and chemistry -- I was taking courses in advanced English.

            I received a B in my first Chemistry course.  For subsequent ones I scored an A. The one area that proved difficult for me was Quantitative Analysis taught by Dr. Alard, somebody I never liked.

            I remember that when we took courses that summer I scored the only A in

Class. I remember the examination paper very well. There were five questions (including one on malonic ester synthesis.)

            I wrote twenty pages of formulae and nothing else.

            Except for the occasions on which I took more than the maximum number of credits, in the two-and-half years I was there I appeared on the Dean’s Honor List consistently.

            There were nearly one hundred in the first semester. Soon most of my course work in the undergraduate English were completed and I began to register for the Post-graduate English classes. I soon completed the coursework for Post-graduate degree in English as well as for the B.Sc. in Biology.

Post Graduate English

For a post graduation in English one had to do a thesis. I wanted to do my research paper on Shakespeare’s Othello. Dr. Sullivan objected saying,“We white people think that the only concern of Negro scholars is discrimination.  Also, I don’t want to supervise your work. I would like others to taste of your intellect.” I searched for another topic and then I stumbled on George Bernard Shaw. I came across him because of my interest in Socialism. George Bernard wrote “If under 40 you are not a socialist -- you have no feeling. If you are a socialist after 40 you are a fool.”

            I began to read and eventually read his 94 plays and hundreds of his literary criticism and other writings. What I could never understand was why a man of his kindness never gave one penny to a beggar.

            Therefore I chose as my thesis “The concept of Poverty in George Bernard Shaw.” I would write a chapter and take it to Fr. Ryan who was my superior.  He was surprised by my choice of G.B.S.  He could never see what his own father and I saw in G.B.S. Eventually I finished the thesis giving it the final touches after I was discovered the book “George versus Bernard” in the University of Chicago library.  I was awarded an M.A. in Absentia. The thesis is lodged in the library of Loyola [Marymount] University in Los Angeles.

            I had to do the medical aptitude test. It was a grueling affair touching on all the Scientific and non-Scientific areas. It even asked searching questions in classical music. There, my background stood me in good stead.

            I applied to six medical schools, four Jesuit (Loyola in Chicago, St. Louis, Marquette and Georgetown) and two non-Jesuit (Harvard and Yale).

I must have done extremely well because within three weeks I had received admission from the Stitch School of Medicine, Loyola University of Chicago. I took the letter to the head of Biology, Dr. Kardner.  “Sir I have an admission from a medical school” His response? “How can you when our committee that sends out recommendations has not even met?”  I showed him the letter.

Preparation For Departure to Chicago

Having graduated I spent the last six months in Los Angeles preparing for my departure.

Harvard Medical School wrote and asked me to go to see one Dr. Rose at UCLA Medical center. I did and when he learned I had admission to Chicago he let that sleeping dog lie.

St. Louis took a different approach. It sent Dr. Sullivan, my mentor, to ask me specifically to come to St. Louis University Medical School, which had never admitted a black man.

I answered that I came to American to study not reform it. I had not secured a scholarship and therefore needed money. I moved out from Loyola to “Africa House” where I rented a flat and set up home.  I found a job in Hollywood working for the Montgomery Properties Limited as a maintenance man under a Loyola graduate, Mr. Joe Kramer.

            The Montgomery saga was quite unique. A brilliant lawyer  -- of Irish descent -- Mr. Montgomery was courting the daughter of the Belgium Consul in Las Angeles. The Consul had a wife who had developed an insatiable appetite for real estate. She acquired a large parcel of land in Hollywood and planted it with apples. When the daughter got married he asked the wife to give the orchard to the daughter as a dowry. He did not want to be bothered by tax officials.

Barely two years after this episode Sunset Boulevard[25] carved the land into two and the price skyrocketed. He built a string of shops along both sides of Sunset.  He built homes behind the shops for two miles, from Sunset and Vine to Al Capone Place, all the way down to the coast with.

I was issued with a car and did odd jobs, at the boss’s’ house on the hill, the stores and in the homes of very many celebrities.

            Montgomery himself had suffered a stroke and spoke with a Parkinson’s disease stutter, spittle drooping from his lips.

            He had four sons each with some peculiar disorder. One was mental and never married. Once in while I would be sent to clean up his house where cans of food were thrown helter-skelter in the room.

            The last son was Francis whose wife was also peculiar. He was an avid hunter and once killed a moose which he had the best butcher in Hollywood dress and pack into an outside deep freezer. The wife pulled out the plug and the meat rotted away. I was sent to go and bury all that meat.  Tucked in with this meat were several tins of canned pork. These I lifted and carried to Africa house and many students got a share.

            The first son George seemed to be the only level-headed one as the third one was in perpetual fear of suffering up a heart attack.

A Typical Day

I would wake up early and take my breakfast. This consisted of semolina and soup. I would go to the slaughter houses in Chicago (known all over world) and buy a large amount of neck bones, oxtail and oxfoot and ribs and prepare a big pot of soup seasoned with groundnut oil, tuna/TINNED fish and shrimp and put it into a deep freezer. When I wanted to eat I would take a bit of the soup and warm it in a fry pan.  Then boil some semo (instead of garri) and eat in about 15 minutes.

Then I would go to work at the Montgomery’s.  After the shop closed at 5 p.m. I would go home and study till late.

African Cultural Night

Chukwuemeka Ifeagwu was then on his Ph.D. course at USC after graduating from Pepperdine. He was quite an organizer and a great speaker as well as a womanizer.

            He organized an African Cultural Night at the Bovard Auditorium at USC. We had quite a crop of students including Anyogu Ukonu who appeared in a movie with Robert Mitchum and Susan Hayward, “The White Witch Doctor.”

            The program included a native marriage ceremony featuring the haggling over the brideprice and a choreographed Mgbaga dance which I led dancing in a costume and with jingles on my feet.

It was very widely attended and the post-event party that followed at Africa House was gatecrashed by American students of both sexes.

            During the dance a Jewish girl who was studying for her Ph.D. at UCLA sought me out and asked for my hand in a dance.  After the dance she invited me to her apartment in West wood for a dinner. What I remember of the dinner was that I asked for jelly on French bread.

            Janice Cohen was a plump but well-stacked young lady with a broad face and short nose. Her father was quite rich with a good real estate business. He owned the big Pacific Building that housed Bell Telephone Exchange. He was a widow with two children, an older boy that flunked out of Yale with mental illness and Janice who was more successful and well-adjusted. She was studying psychology at UCLA. She lived away from home in an apartment which she shared with another cerebral palsy student.

            When she showed interest in me I quickly thought of marriage because I always felt that love, sex and marriage went together. I took her to the Jesuits who loaded her with books on philosophy and religion. 

            It was not long before I left for Chicago. I bought an old 1950 Dodge saloon and refurbished it.  I placed an ad in the Los Angeles Times:

“Medical student returning to Chicago wants riders who are willing to take risk call X Number.  Price 20 dollars.”

I had many calls including young girls who thought this would be a good way to catch a doctor husband.  From the calls I chose three people, two students returning to school and a truck driver on his way to Detroit to pick up a truck. It was a journey of over 2000 miles.

Instead of the Route 66 I chose  Highway 30 through Cheyenne, Wyoming and Ames, Iowa.

            We drove continuously with only the occasional stop to eat and drink water. We drove in six hours shifts after sleeping for six hours in the back.

            We made it to Ames, Iowa without accident. There the propeller shaft became faulty. My passengers contributed some money and we repaired the car, entering into Chicago the next day after a forty hour journey.  The old jalopy had done its work and I abandoned it at the back of our 16 Ashland Avenue Phi Chi hostel.

            The medical school was just one block away, opposite Cook Country Hospital. My first classes were in Anatomy, Physiology and Biochemistry. The Anatomy Lab was on the top two of the building.  We were assigned tables in twos. We went up there after orientation lectures. Joe S, my roommate and I had a tall hefty body of a middle-aged white man which had to be crunched to fit into the cupboard. We wearingly lifted it to the dissecting block and unwrapped it and douched it with formaldehyde.

            We had two excellent teachers of Anatomy, Dr. Job, an Anglican Reverend gentleman who lectured whilst Dr. Nelson supervised the laboratories. Dr. Job took special interest in me and gave me a beautiful illustrated anatomy atlas by Sobotta.

            Dr. Job’ss lectures were so effective that over sixty years later I can still picture him holding the female pelvis and describing the pudendal inlet and outlet for child bearing.

            My routine consisted of going to lectures and then going to the University of Illinois Medical Library and getting in a good number of study hours in a quiet environment.

            During the weekend I also developed a routine. On Friday and Sunday evening I had my recreation: I would drive down to the University of Chicago International House and danced to music on records. Fridays were mostly South American tunes like rhumba tango and cha-cha. Sundays were Viennese waltzes. I hardly ever missed the dances. Sometimes I also played tennis with Fred Akpuaka at the courts in the international house.

            I followed this routine religiously. My roommate Joe preferred to study in the hotel and would plant his two feet in a bucket of cold water and don a cold wet blanket to keep him awake. To my amusement,  I often noted that when I returned from my dancing the book would be open in the same page and Joe fast asleep.

            Eventually he flunked the second M.B. and was dismissed from medicine. I later heard he went into Dentistry and all efforts to locate him in later years were unfruitful.  My next roommate was a Chinese American from New York. He was very bright and was interested in research. He and another bright lad later transferred to Harvard and Princeton to continue their studies.

            Within a few months of my arrival in Chicago I could manage with my savings. Fortunately one day I received a registered letter from the Nigerian Govt student Liaison officer in Washington D.D. He sent me a check for $1000 dollars for subsistence and another thousand for the Medical School fees. Because I had already paid part of fees upon acceptance into medical school, I was able to keep some portion of the money from the government. For the first time in my career I was financially solvent

            I purchased some winter clothes which were never needed in California. I also purchased a record player and some classical records including Toscanini conducting Beethoven’s 9^th symphony choral. I bought a refurbished Ford car.

           

2^nd MB 1954 March

After the first MB the came the real McCoy:  the second MB in Pathology Microbiology, Pharmacology Microbiology and Pharmacology, which were done in the school.

            For Pathology we had our classes at Mercy Hospital auditorium and the Dean of the College was in charge. He gave lectures which consisted of projected slides of pathological unities. After the lectures we went to the lab where with our own individual microscopes we studied from a box of 250 slides given to each student and every student had his own microscope and could receive assistance from the teachers.

            Autopsies were done once a week and we assisted by cleaning the contents of the intestines. In the middle of the course life became a struggle.

           

                                                Janice Cohen

            I mentioned earlier my relationship with Janice Cohen. When I left for Chicago she tried to follow so as to nurture our growing friendship. She could not transfer to any school in Chicago. The closest school she was able to transfer to was Purdue University in West Lafayette, Indiana, home also to the great Notre Dame University.

            Every Friday evening she would drive the 150 miles from Purdue to Chicago together with two adult American black students whose families were in Chicago she would come and get me from the Ashland fraternity hotel and we would live in an apartment for the week end. I took the time to go to the University of Chicago library and give the finishing touches to my thesis on Bernard Show. Early on Monday mornings we parted to our respective studies. She would drive back with the two black students.

            We spent the short Christmas break together and in early January 1954 when she came for two weekends a heavy gray cloud descended on our relationship. She sobbed incessantly throughout the weekend.  After the second weekend she broke the news to me. She had met a Jewish boy at her school and wanted to break our relationship. She was sure her father would disown her if he found she was dating a black man.  Because of my Catholic conviction the break up suited me and I felt relieved.

            We parted in peace but when I got back to my Ashland Hotel it descended on me like a ton of bricks. I could not sleep or eat or concentrate on my studies. I travelled by train to Purdue to woo her back and sought the assistance of our mutual friend Osita ----- from Onitsha.  She refused to see me. I returned to Chicago inconsolate as ever. This was in January 1955.  In early March the the second MB examination would take place. At the turn of events this emotional upheaval had to be controlled.  Like Hamlet.

            To be or not to be

that is the question

Whether it is better to

take up arms against

a sea of misfortune

And by resisting them

defeat them.

I made up my mind to fight these arrows of misfortune as my whole life depended on it.

Retreat

I went to the medical chaplain - another Jesuit - and told him I had a personal problem to solve and needed some time off. He reminded of the impending crucial 2^nd M.B. and concluded by sayin, “Be quick with it.”

            I took my car and drove 225 miles to Dubuque, Iowa, to a Trappist monastery nestled in the woods on the outskirts of town. On arrival a monk received me and showed me my room, the chapel and the dining rooms.

            After unpacking I settled down in my room and began the spiritual exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola. This is done as follows:  You undress completely, darken the room lie on your bare back on the wooden floor and meditate for at least 30 minutes. I did this twice breaking the two by a walk in the paths of the wooden gardens. After the second reflection, I went to confession and returning to my room felt like a heavy load had been lifted from my shoulders.  A sudden rush of hunger descended on me and I ate like a hog at the meal served that evening which was accompanied by the special rye bread baked by the monks.

            I toured around the monastery seeing the severe living conditions of these holy people.  I saw their scanty beds I saw them at their chores. “Laborer est orari,” said St. Benedict. That night I slept like a baby.

            The next day we had Morning Mass and a talk by the spiritual director. This was quite brief and I continued my exercises and meditations. After three days of this wonderful spiritual renewal I drove back to Chicago and continued my studies.

Meeting my Wife

When I returned to Chicago I continued my studies as well as my weekend recreational dances at the International House.

The International House

The Rockefeller Foundation had a wonderful philanthropic idea of helping international students board and lodge together in a large Hotel with living ,recreational and religious facilities in a Rockefeller House and Chapel. The foundation established one in New York near Columbia University, one in Chicago for the Midwest and one in California at Berkeley. Every Friday for a meager 25 cents you could dance in the hall between 8:30pm and 11:30 pm. You met students from all parts of the world.

            It was on one of these pleasant days that I met my wife. Anna Brita Bystrom was a spritely typical blond Swedish damsel in her early twenties. She came from Jamitland to serve as an au pair to one Professor Fransen who was the Professor of Scandinavian and Icelandic languages at the University of Chicago.

            I was attracted to her by two things -  (1) her strawberry blond beauty and (2) her dress.

Her beauty was unique. She was of average height at about 5 foot 5 or 6 inches.. She had an oval face had with strawberry blond curls. She wore a tight fitting blouse and black curls. She wore a tight fitting house and a black and orange patterned skirt that was tight in the waist and flared in such a way that it spread out and swayed when you turned her around as you danced.

            I loved ball room dancing and when I danced with Anna Brita I was totally lost in the clouds of joy.

            She kept asking my name.  Instead of replying, I would ask, “Why do you want to know my name? Don’t you like the dancing?”

            After repeated requests I told her my experience with Janice and why I was reluctant to get involved again.

After the dance we would drive down to 63^rd Street to listen to Jazz music. At last I would drop her at her 5703 Maryland at the Fragans and return to the hotel in Ashland Ave.

            We continued this routine till the summer of 1954. The second M.B came in March 1954 and I passed easily. I decided to return to Los Angles for the summer holidays. I traveled by Greyhound on the famous high way 66 from Chicago to Los Angeles. There I took up residence at the Africa House. Africa house at that time had many colorful residents. Firstly, there was Chuckwumela Ifeagwu, now a graduate PH. D. (USC) in Public Administration. He was preparing to return to Nigeria where he was to become one of the first ambassadors of the newly independent country Nigeria. He eventually ended up as our first ambassador to the United Nations.  I remembered visiting him several years later in his most fashionable ambassador’s home in an apartment in in the Upper East Side of Manhattan furnished with natural palm trees and a heated swimming pool. The furniture was exquisite done by special interior decorators.             There was also Alabisi Ajalla, a con man who got publicity by pretending to cycle from New York to Hollywood. He would board the train with his bike and a few miles to a prominent city would alight and ride to town in glory and with the inevitable publicity and photos. When he got to St. Louis he went to the YMCA. It was an all white abode.

He was denied accommodations but in a flash he was swimming in their swimming pool. He was thrown out but made sure he secured more publicity that way.  By the time he reached Los Angeles he was well known enough that when an occasion present itself for a part in a movie he was invited. He became the tour guide of the movie African Safari with Robert Mitchum and Susan Hayward.

The movie lasted 3 months and he was handsomely paid. He moved out of African House and having set up residence in a nice apartment in Hollywood he bought a new Dodge car and fashionable clothes and a Hollywood star lifestyle. When the movie shooting ended the income dried up.

            He hashed a plan of passing false checks and cashed quite some amount from the Beverly Hills bank. The security authorities finally caught up with him and when he showed up with another false check he was arrested and sent to San Pedro awaiting trial and deportation. At the trial he asked Objo Kosoko, another student, to get him native attire. After the prosecution had stated its case, Ajalla lay prostate, face down, on the court floor. He claimed he needed an interpreter to state his case.

            “Your worship, my father is a great chief Yoruba land.  If I am deported and return without the golden fleece of a good education he will cut off my head. The judge wanted to know where he was from and was informed Nigeria.  “Where is that?” One of the British Colonies in West Africa. The judge was hesitant and postponed the hearing for one day. Still custody for deportation Ajalla devised another ploy.  Making sure the press was around he climbed the highest tower he could find and threatened to jump unless he was pardoned.  After much negotiation he came down, one step at a time. Once down the judge pardoned him but stated he must leave the US. He fled to Canada and that was the last I heard of him.

            There were other colorful residents of Africa house like Anyoga Ukwu who played drums and entertained crwods at the Santa Monica Beach, becoming so popular that the FBI was to take measures to prevent him corrupting American youth. He also appeared in a movie that needed an African language speaker.  “You colonialists bring your gems and twa-twa-twa my people,” he shouted in Ibo and was well paid for it. There was also Alex Njaka who was sponsored in his past graduate studies at UCLA by a medium who gave a public lecture claiming to be able to predict the future.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    

            I remember challenging her about the need to know the future which Aristotle thought ignorance of was the main concern of living.

My Career in Salesmanship

           

The only job I could get for that summer was in sales. I got a job selling Dodge cars and was presented with a demonstration car which I drove all over Los Angeles. I succeeded in selling one and got my 7% commission. One day Alex Njaka, the student financed by the medium, had trouble getting his car moving. I decided to give him a push with my demonstration car, this resulted in an accident on my demonstration car and my dismissal.

            I got another job selling beautiful illustrated Bibles. I sold quite a lot throughout the black neighborhoods in Los Angeles and Compton.

            I recall that I was never paid in full as the full payment was due in part payment done monthly. The boss just gave me a copy of the bible.

           

Anna Brita in Los Angeles

           

Anna Brita travelled by bus across U.S. to Berkeley, California, stopping at Salt Lake City where she took a ride on the salt Lake .  She came to visit me at Africa House and we had fun together. I remember we went in a midnight swim in the Pacific at the exclusive Beach club and after swimming had one of the best barbecue chickens I ever tasted.

            Anna Brita left me in Los Angeles adding, “I shall return to marry you.” I thought she was joking. She returned by bus and later sailed back to Sweden.  On the ship she met an American who had property and he signed her papers to become an immigrant to the US.

            When she got back to Sweden she wrote to me saying she was saving money in order to be able to return to the US that summer.  Among the things she did to raise money was to donate her own blood. She gave me the date of her arrival - this time not by sea but by air. She was to fly into Midway airport; O’Hare had  not yet completed.

            The day Anna arrived happened also to be the first day I wore my intern white suit with beautiful white suede shoes.

            I was slightly late because of heavy traffic.  She was quite anxious and was already making arrangements how to get to town when I showed up like a knight in shining armor.

Early Plans

We passed the first night together in a small hotel on South Park Ave. We made plans about the future. These involved, firstly, accommodations; secondly, employment; and thirdly,  education.

Accommodations

There was a YMCA on the street as my Phi-Chi Hotel - She was to stay there. There were several young medical students in our class who lived there.  One of the medical students was violinist who shared my passion for music. There was also a beautiful, middle aged supervisor whom I begged to look after her.

Training and Working

Anna Brita tried her hand at many jobs including, whilst studying, waiting tables in the Swedish restaurant in Kensington.

Education

I was hesitant that she should continue her education having already gotten her high school diploma in Sweden. She took several tests for the University of Chicago and Roosevelt University. She also tried to get into a Nursing school. Finally we settled on the night school at Roosevelt University.

            We settled into the routine of work in the morning and school at night.

            Every weekend we went to dance at the international house and to 63^rd street to listen to jazz music.

My 3^rd and 4^th year in Med School

My third year in the medical school saw two events that also changed my life. The first was receiving training as a nurse technician at Cook County hospital.

Nurse Technician

Cook county hospital was very short of nurses. The nursing school authorities devised the method of Nurse Technician. In this they chose medical students who had passed their 2^nd M.B. and trained them and then set them to work in words.

I was chosen and came into contact with two wonderful women who influenced my life. The principal was Miss Kadar and her Vice Principal McDonald. Both were unmarried and shared a house in La Grange. After the training I was placed in charge of Ward 33, an orthopedic ward between 6 p.m. and 11:30 p.m.  every night I got paid one dollar an hour I believe.

This job gave me a practical knowledge of the immensity of Cook County Hospital. This hospital was made up of several building.

            1. The main hospital with medical and surgical wards.

            2. Obstetrical words and the main labor room which was two blocks long and said to be one huge baby factory in which you encounter all sorts of complicated and normal deliveries in the course of one day. The gynecology ward had droves of D&C’s everyday.

            3. Emergency rooms flowed with casualties whom the police wagons rushed in every day. This was true particularly in the weekends when people after collecting their weekly wages would gamble and when one loses his weekly sustenance see tempers flare and fights will knives and guns ensure.

            These patients would be rolled in police wagons with blinking lights and blaring horns or in rare cases by ambulance.

           

The Children’s Hospital

This was a building on the 9 floor.  On the lower floors were the emergency rooms and wards. On the 6^th floor Karl Meyer had his apartment. The ninth floor was the special Karl Meyer Ward 56 -- The institute of Medical Research.

            This was another building under the commander Doctor Sam Hoffman who claimed he had the memory of an elephant; his claim was later shown to be correct when, many years later, he visited Nigeria during the Civil war and he easily recognized Fabian Udekwu.

There was a huge radiology department under a brilliant radiologist.

1. Laboratories

      There were large pathology areas under the great Hungarian Jew Paul B. Szanto whose clinical pathological conferences were famous.

2. Blood Bank – This was the largest in the world.

My Specific Work in Ward 35

I had 4 consultants and would like to comment on just two.  Firstly was Carlo Scuderi, who was of Italian descent, short and dapper.  Then there was Callahan – a specialist on sports injuries.

            I would administer medicine, change patients’ dressings and write the progress reports which were collected by the supervisor every evening and included in the handover notes for the next shift.

            I did this job until I secured a better paying job with living quarters at Alexian Brothers hospital in the Near North Side.

This new job also came with free accommodation, as well as meals for working in the Emergency room and assisting the Surgeons at operations became they had no interns.

Move Up The Ladder

Whilst at Alexia Bros Hospital I got enough money together with my Nigeria Govt Scholarship grant to buy a brandnew 1955 Black and White Ford 4 Door sedan. I also sought and found a co-op apartment in Hyde Park and Anna Brita and I moved and set up house at 4842 ½ Drexel Bld. Chicago on her birthday, 1955.

The apartment was a single room a dining room a kitchen and a closet that served as a bedroom because it was just large enough to accommodate a bed. I told Anna Brita that as a convinced Catholic I could not imagine marrying a non Catholic, much less raise my children as non Catholics. She should look at the Catholic religion and if she likes to become one, we would get married. She agreed and I took her to the parish nearest to us, St. Ambrose Church at A 7th and Elis.  St. Ambrose was barely two blocks form our new home.

            At St. Ambrose in those days there were two priests, the curator and his assistant Fr. McKay. Fr McKay was assigned the job of teaching her Catholicism.  I said to him “Father prepare her for Baptisms.” We were not sure she was properly baptized in Sweden.

            Fr McKay asked,“Why me?” Why don’t you go to the University of Chicago with its leftist priests?

            I answered, “Father you know we live on 48^th street and and this is our parish. You know the rules of the game and I know them. Why don’t we remain friends?”

Anna Brita went to Fr. McKay every Thursday evening for instruction in Catholicism. Instead of teaching her Catholicism Fr. McKay spent the whole evening trying to convince her not to marry a black man. He added that when his sister visited him from the North side he had to get a police escort to see her to the elevated train.  He told her all this in spite of the fact that Hyde Park was home to some of the most distinguished white families in Chicago.  We lived at the very edge of Hyde Park.

            Rita would relate these things to me. I would say quietly “Don’t mind him.  Go back to him.” When he realized he could not convince her to change her mind, he finally began the actual religious instruction.

            After Baptism I said “Prepare her for Confession and first Holy Communion” Again, with protestations,  he did. I finally added, “Prepare her for Matrimony.  I have fixed the date of our wedding to be 28^th April 1956.”

            Fr. McKay protested violently but I was obdurate. He then presented me with demands that he figured I could never meet. First, the banns of marriage. Fr. McKay stipulated that the banns must be read in every city I had ever lived in Nigeria and returned before the wedding. That meant banns from Enugu, Ogidi, Enugu-Agidi and Ogoja. Fr. McKay also insisted he, not I, would write the banks. I gave him the addresses. He must have written because several years after the wedding I received a certificate with my baptism and annual returns [Asika:  returns]  signed by Fr. Thomas Fox.

One week before the date I went to the Cardinal’s office and requested and received a written exemption from these demands:  I took the note to Fr. Mckay and the only demand he was now made was that I should pay $50 to the blind organist.

            “Father, you know that I am a medical student yet you make all these demands.”

I paid the amount and went away on a  retreat in the North side of Chicago.

I went to the wedding from the retreat house.  Rita went from our apartment.

That morning, Saturday April 28^th 1956 at 9 a.m., we assembled.  I chose as my groomsman my classmate Bob McVay and his very pretty wife Ida (of Italian descent) was the bridesmaid. My roommate Joe Stachnich and his girlfriend were also there.

Fr. McKay was 45 minutes late but he did come and said the Mass and married us.

We had our reception at the Crossroads Student Centre at the University of Chicago and postponed our honeymoon till after I had completed my internship.

Getting an internship, 1958

My plan was to get the best internship possible, go to England and in 18 months obtain the primary FRCS of England or Scotland and go home and get the practical experience like a few others for instance Festus Nwako who obtained money from a group of students who had just arrived to study for FRCS and sit the examination as a dry run for the rest of the students. As fate would have it he passed and returned home to University College Hospital - Ibadan as a Senior Registrar. The reader will later get a glimpse of the extent of his practical experience when I returned to UCH in 1964.

Cook County Hospital had a super boss called Karl Meyer, a brilliant surgeon, quite short and spritely. He was totally devoted to surgery, never married and lived in a special apartment in the sixth floor of the hospital. He had a girlfriend in one of the nursing supervisors who could be seen every evening going on the special elevator to his apartment with a copy of the day’s Chicago Tribune. Apart from this service she also ran Dr. Karl Meyer’s Ward 56.

            The hospital administration was Dr. Blaha who had his offices on the ground floor.  He was a devout Catholic and for some reason never married. I went to him and said “Sir, I should like to get the best ward in medicine and surgery for me to do a good internship and go to UK for my primary FRCS and return to Nigeria as early as possible.”  I was not getting any younger. He asked me to name the wards and he would give me the opportunity.

            Without hesitation I chose Karl Meyers Ward 56 for surgery and Dr. Edmond Foley’s Medical Ward 60. He obliged me. I did not mind what other wards he assigned me in the one year rotating internship.  Of course there were obligatory rotations like Casualty, OBGYN and Cardio-thoracic surgery and Pediatrics.

Surgical Internship

I was assigned to Ward 56 as my first rotation.  My routine was as follows. I would rise as early as 5 a.m. and after bathing and dressing in my white Italian suit and the spotless white suede shoes drove in my new Ford from my Drexel Blvd cooperative apartment to the Hospital.  I was usually the first to arrive every morning. I would collect a cart with tubes and syringes and go from one patient to the other, listening to their stories and reexamining them  for their progress reports. I would note these factors, draw blood samples or collect specimens like sputum or feces and place them in the cart for onward transmission to the specific laboratories before heading for Karl Meyer Hall for Breakfast.  The food was free as we were only paid 25 dollars a month - an amount one could spend entirely on drinks alone in the Greek restaurant across the street.

            Around 9 a.m. we had general rounds with the Chief Resident, the Junior Residents, the four interns and the nursing staff and students. We were four interns. When the group arrived at the bed of your patient you presented your case as concisely as possible. You give the history  -- from his presenting complaints to the physical and the laboratory findings, results and the progress to date.

Karl Meyer’s famous rounds

Every Wednesday morning at 9 a.m. Dr. Meyer would make rounds to pick a suitable card date with incontrovertible evidence of doudenal ulcer to reset before a gallery of visiting surgeons and general practitioners from far and wide, including foreign countries. The demonstrations fed his fame and private referrals to his Private Practice at Columbus Hospital in the Near Northside of Chicago Occasionally Meyer would invite local and foreign famous dignitaries to operate before this audience. We had visits from George Pack of Sloan-Kettering Institute of Medical Research and Hospital in New York; Owen Claggert demonstrated radical mastectomy for hysterectomy and for advanced cervical cancer, and the famous Konsei Nakayama of Japan demonstrated gastric resection.

           

Eureka

It was on one of those rounds in July 1958 that Meyer noted the excellence of my work and asked Dr. Cahill, “Who is the one doing this excellent work?”  Cahill told him, “This colored boy Fabian.”  Meyer: “Son what are you going to become?”

I told him that I wanted to go to England to do the FRCS and then return to Nigeria to practice

Meyer: You must be a fool to want to go to England to train when the Prime Minister of that Country Sir Anthony Eder has just this year come to the Lahey Clinic in Boston to repair his common bile duct which was damaged during colostomy.

Fabien: “But where will I do the residency sir?”

I knew too well that I had no chance in normal competition among 420 interns from all over the US and beyond for the 7 places a year a feat never accomplished by black men and a foreigner at that.

Meyer- What is wrong with this place?

Fabien-Nothing sir.

Meyer- Do you want the surgical residency here?

Fabian- Yes Sir.

Meyer- You have it.

            What a great joy! The most prized residency in the world in my grasp without even applying for it.

            When I went to lunch at the Karl Meyer hall of Residence the other interns flocked to my table and asked how I obtained it so early as the first month of internship. I said I did nothing unusual but they would not believe me.

One intern said, “I know how.  He is a prince from Africa and fixed this from Washington.” I had never even ever been to Washington.

            I worked diligently throughout my 3 months in Ward 56. Among my many achievements was an astute diagnosis of ectopic pregnancy presenting as acute appendicitis.

Medical Rotation- Internship

When I got to Dr. Foleys Ward 60 it was a challenge. I have never worked so hard in my life. You were on call every 4 days. You received all the admissions to the Ward for the 24 hours.

You were required to do a complete history and physical within 24 hours. As a result of this type of excellent work I achieved the distinction of providing the first case for the Monthly CPC presided over by the famous pathologist Paul B. Szanto in a conference in the gallery attended by all Cook County Hospital staff and foreigners.

             It was the duty of the intern to present the history and physical findings and the consultants did the differential diagnosis and tried to arrive in a logical sequence at a definitive diagnosis.

            My case was a middle aged white female who was admitted into the ward with a history of hemoptysis - coughing up blood. With the prevalence of TB in those days, after taking her history and conducting a physical examination,  we immediately placed her on a triple anti TB therapy of streptomysicin,  isosiamid and -----.  We did this after collecting laboratory specimens from sputum and bronchoscopy [?]  The tests remained negative despite multiple repetitions. After some time and if for nothing else but to know the real diagnosis we obtained the usual written permit from relatives for autopsy.  Dr. Szanto in his inimitable fashion did the autopsy and collected specimen and made many slides.

Dr. Foley’s Discussion

After I had the unique privilege of presenting the case Dr. Foley delivered the differential diagnosis in which he discussed the causes of at haemoptsis in detail. He thoroughly discussed viruses, bacteria and parasites.

I vividly recall his elegant elimination of viruses referring particularly to the Pandemic Influenza of 1918-1919. This was the first apartment of the Multistoried Disease Apartments. The second floor was inhabited by Bacilli & Fungi.  The third floor was the home of parasites, especially Paragoman…iasis.

            Finally Dr. Szanto began his presentation of autopsy findings,  beginning as follows. The body was that of a middle aged white male etc. He would describe and show on projected slides the gross and microscopic findings.

            In my case it showed pulmonary carcinomiasis, a  rare diseases quite distinctly affecting the lung tissue rather then the brachus as in TB and Broudroperic Carcinoma.

            One of the distinct characteristics positions of Cook County Hospital was the fact that it was free. There was absolutely no discrimination and you could not deny any patient in need of its services.  Because of this we not only had the allotted two rows of side beds but also a double row of beds in the middle. In addition children were not included in the head capacity of the hospital.  Thus Cook County Hospital in those days had at least 5000 beds.

OBSTRETRICS & GYNECOLOGY

            We had factory type delivery rooms that ran the whole length of the hospital.

            A lady in Labor would be rushed to the ward from the Casualty ward. The attendants and midwives shave, delouse and bathe the patients, give them a change of clothes, then passed the woman into the delivery chain depending in the stage of labor -- assessed by the labor pains -- its onset, severity and frequency and the stage of descent of the baby into the pelvis and the dilation of the cervix.

            There was no anesthesia except if the patient developed a complication and needed Emergency Surgery.

The end was a delivery by natural method  supplemented by some morphia and atropine.

            I recalled an experience with a Puerto Rico patient, overwhelmed by labor pains, could only respond, “Doctor, no habla ingles.” When the baby arrived she asked in plain English “What sex is it?”

It is said that on a 24 hour shift in the Cook County Hospital rooms one would encounter every known complication in obstetrics, from multipurpose pregnancies to  placenta praevia and aereta.

          We had all sorts of Obstetricians including one who experimented with hypnosis of women in labor as a way to control their pains.

Gynecological Rotation

An intern rotating through gynecology had also a factory production line. It was your job to admit all the abortions that arrived in the ward from Casualty. Their place in line was ranked, from I to III.

          All patients admitted in the previous 24 hours had their D&C or simple   evacuation, the cervix having been often dilated either naturally or illegally in a butchered back street abortion.

          The patients were given no anesthetics: Simply morphine 1/8 gram or 1/120 atropine. The patient is scrubbed, painted with Tr. [trace?] of Iodine and draped, in a row of six patients. The intern scrapes the uterus until it is free of placenta and the patient is sent to the recovery room. Patients were usually discharged the same day.

           Complications are handled by OB residents with the help of consultants - a rare occurrence.

Pediatrics Rotation

As you will recall, the pediatric Hospital was a separate building.  The pediatric emergency was on the ground floor.  For the pediatric rotation each intern got his turn every four days, and you worked until you dropped. The only opportunity for sleep was between cases.  Sleeping in the vomite-infested rooms of the pediatric emergency rooms with its constant cackle of coughing and URI’s no frequently associated with infections transitions by these young incubators to the staff. I caught one of those infections, but still there was no possibility of going away to rest. My last rotation was an elective rotation through pediatric open heart surgery in twelve days in its infancy.

Development in Family

After settling into the routine of rigorous internship I completed my internship in June 1958. Prior to that we were blessed with a first child Anthony Okechukwu born on October 16 1956. Our Obstetrician was gentle, soft spoken Dr. Stepto who worked in both Lewis Memorial and Provided Hospital and County Hospital. Okechukwu was delivered at Levis Memorial Hospital run by a group of catholic nuns. The chief consultant was a great big tall man with huge hands which patients dreaded during vaginal examinations.

Unfortunately Dr. Stepto was on holidays when Rita went into labor alone in our apartment because I was on call at another hospital trying to make money for the family subsistence. I arrived just in time to drive her to the hospital.

          Usually the pregnant women is prepped and put in a labor room. After full dilation shown by doughnut appearance of the cervix the patient is prepped and given spinal analgesia and the delivery is by outlet forceps.

          Dr. Sullivan, Dr. Stephen’s Chief Resident, did the job extremely well. You can imagine the joy of an Ibo man presented with a first born male (diokpala) He weighed 6 lbs 12 oz. He was immediately circumcised.

          He was breast fed and also supplemented with cow milk. The baby milk companies immediately with out being told flooded our apartment with all types of brands of baby milk.

          I remember he could not tolerate Similac he had lactose intolerance. Usually our new routine was as follows. In the morning we would wake, wash and dress, feed the baby and prepare the supplementary feeding bottles and take Okechukwu to one Aunt Josie, an elderly retired grandmother who only charged us 5 dollars a week to look after him. Rita went to work and from work to night school and returned around 9 p.m. and collected the children.

           Aunt Josie had two or three children before ours. She babysat for our five children, but only charged us for three.  We paid her 15 dollars a week; she did not charge for the last two children.

She served us till we left the U.S. and in gratitude we left her our TV with her. She had never owned one.

Honey Moon

We spent our delayed honeymoon in Sequoia National Park in California.  Chuwkuemeka Ifeagwu, with his contacts with Rotary Clubs, from which he made a very good living addressing them, arranged for us to stay with one Mrs. Kreibel.  Mr. Kreibel had been a hardware storekeeper in the “largest hardware store in the world” at Woodlake in the forest reserve. The landscape was marked by eight sequoia trees thousands of years old. One of them was so huge it had to be disemboweled to accommodate a high way. The gentle flow stream ending in steep water falls was an ideal recuperating area with its log cabins and lovely restaurants. Mountain bears foraged in the dark at night searching for food.

          We travelled by plane to Los Angeles and by bus to Sequoia and arrived as guests of Mrs. Krebiel who at this time was widowed and had remarried.

          We spent the first night in their home and she got us our cabin for the rest of the stay. We spent a week there and spent the next day in Los Angeles when I took her to see my Alma Mater Loyola of Los Angeles when accidentally it was their Convocation Day.

          We had stayed in Los Angles with one Miss Gregory, a friend of John Iboko at Pasadena.  When I spent some time talking to her Rita became violently jealous and for the first time in our life she slapped me. I did not retaliate.

          We returned to Chicago, to our duties and life there.  This will be our next discussion this book.

The Residency Program

The surgical residency in those days was five years long. The first year consisted of either research or helping Dr. Meyer at his private practice at Columbus hospital. Only one of the annual seven residents got to do this and on that occasion it was William Cahill now serving as his Chief Resident in Ward 56.  Apart from being the Chief Resident he had primordial powers over all other residents. For instance if there was a week when there was no suitable patient for the Saturday morning demonstration by Meyer, he would snatch a patient from other residents.

The Research

Being black and a foreigner there was no way of working at Columbus so I started with research.

          The laboratory consisted of simple room in Ward 56 which I shared with another resident Richard Grossman, a dashing play who graduated from the University of Florida. Because these Southern graduates were already licensed to practice without necessarily interning he was not serious and till today I cannot remember any serious research work he did that year.  Quite often he benefitted from a new situation in the program.

          Prior to 1958 there were no full time surgeons among the consultants on staff at the Hospital.  There was a young Private Consultant, Burt Clem, who took charge of rotating the residents.  At this time two recent graduates came as residents, Dr. Robert Frearke, and Dr. Robert Baker.  Unfortunately they were not assigned any specific wards and being recent graduates would prey on the residents to provide them with suitable cases to keep in practice. This caused a lot of friction. There were certainly ones in favor and others out of favor.

          For some reasons I was one out of favor for what reason I never figured out. Richard Grossman was in favor and received many privileges such as being assigned clinical duties to cover for residents who were on leave. I was very jealous of this since I was never given this opportunity.

Dr. Richard Kozoll

         

The supervisor of my research program was Dr. Richard Kozoll of Jewish descent who lived in the fashionable Jewish suburb of Skokie, had his private practice in the North western area and came to make rounds once a week.

          You chose your own area of research, wrote it up and presented it to a panel of experts of the Hecktoen Institute of research and if approved went on to carry out the research. When you finished you submitted it for publication. If you were lucky it would be accepted and you would have a publication to your name. You would be the first author and Kozoll the supervisor the second and the boss Dr. Meyer the third.

Total Body Water

My contact with Professor Peter Talso, one of the recent additions to the Loyola Medical Staff from the University of Chicago was responsible for this.

          During my readings of literature I came across the work of Francis Moore of Harvard Medical School. He had developed and did a lot of work on Total body water with deuterium Oxide heavy water. Heavy water atom is not radio active but 20% heavier than ordinary water H2O. Dr. Moore’s technique consisted of injecting deuterium into subjects and taking samples of blood at certain intervals, process the blood by centrifuging it and getting the plasma, double distilling it and by pippette send one drop of it down the pippette and by measuring the rate of drop in microseconds determine the total body water. This method was definitely most tedious and exacting and it was rumored that Dr. Moore’s technician, one Margaret Ball, needed glasses after over 500 cases.

---

[1]

[2] These are the opening words of the hymn “Pange Lingua Gloriosi,” sung at Corpus Christi, towards the very end of the Mass at the exhibition and adoration of the Blessed Sacrament.  The song, which can be recited also, was composed by St. Thomas Aquinas, and is best known by the title given by the author.

[3] Not chase in the literal sense, but figuratively, meaning to chase, or pursue, romantically.

[4] As noted elsewhere by the author, Onitsha was first in the region in terms of mission education.  Missionary work and schools went hand in hand.  The first CMS mission in Igboland opened in 1857 in Onitsha, and the Catholics also established their first mission in this area in Onitsha, in 1885.   The oldest primary and secondary schools in the region were thus in Onitsha.  Enugu, now an important regional center, was not a major settlement in the late nineteenth, or even very early twentieth, century.  It was the discovery of coal in Enugu that set the town on a new trajectory.  College of the Immaculate Conception (CIC) was established in 1942.

[5] As in original.

[6] The author had left the space blank, obviously with the intention of filling in later the name of the place in Amsterdam.  Between 1940 and 1945 Amsterdam was under Nazi occupation. It was in Amsterdam that Anne Frank, whose diaries have now been translated into seventy languages, hid with her family for several years, until they were denounced and discovered and sent to a concentration camp.  The house where the Frank family hid became a museum in 1960.  There is also a Dutch Resistance Museum in Amsterdam, opened in 1980, and it may be to this that the author was referring.

[7] From Shakespeare, Measure for Measure, 2.2.117-123.  “man, proud man, /Dress’d in a little brief authority,/ Most ignorant of what he’s most assur’d/ (His glassy essence), like an angry ape/ Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven/ As makes the angels weep; who, with our spleens,/ Would all themselves laugh mortal.”

[8] Ben Enweonwu, the most celebrated Nigerian artist, became an international celebrity when the British queen, Elizabeth II, sat for him in YEAR.  See BIOGRAPHY OF ENWONWU XXXXX (Rochester Press, 2008??).

[9] It has not been possible to determine to which cardinal the author refers.  The Roman Catholic church has dozens of cardinals at any given time.  The first Nigerian to be invested as cardinal was Francis Arinze, ordained in 1985.  For almost two decades, Arinze was considered very likely to become the first African pope in modern times; the election of the German XXX Ratzinger (Pope XXX) ended the speculations. 

[10] That is, Enugu-Agidi and surrounding communities.

[11] CIC, or the College of the Immaculate Conception, Enugu, is a school with a distinguished history and many prominent alumni.  Colleges were secondary schools, not tertiary-level as in the United States.

[12] In 1954 Phillip Allison was the second Professor of Surgery at Nuffield Department of Surgery, which was founded in 1937.

[13] Zik was a fervent nationalist.  Born in Zungeru, Hausa-speaking Northern Nigeria, his ancestral home was in Onitsha.  In the decade leading up to the end of official British colonial rule, nationalist leaders became or were forced to become regional leaders.  Zik stood for election, but etc etc etc.  In Onitsha, there were, and remain, tensions between Onitsha Igbos (“natives”) and non-Onitsha Igbos (“strangers”).

[14] “Lines:  Composed a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey,” composed by Wordsworth in 1798, appears in many collections of his poetry.

[15] Most likely the Enugu-Agidi Boys’ Union.

[16] Benson was actually the author’s cousin, but as is still widespread in Nigeria, any older relative (or close family friend) is styled “uncle” or “auntie.”  The author lived with Benson as a schoolboy; Benson, for his part, had been cared for by the author’s father, following the death of Benson’s own father.

[17] British Bank of West Africa.

[18] The author probably intended to write “bunk,” but “bunker” no doubt captures graphically the quality and location of his berth onboard.

[19] Founded in 1919, the Mississippi Shipping Line carried cargo from South America and West Africa to the U.S.  In 1962 the company officially became the Delta Line, in 1985 it was bought by Crowley Maritime, which went bankrupt the following year.

[20] The words “were white” have been added; in the original the sentence is incomplete.  But this is the logical conclusion from the rest of the sentence.  In the United States prior to the Civil War, white and black sailors had worked alongside one other.   Readers of Olaudah Equiano’s Narrative will recall that sailing was among the many occupations in which the author, when still enslaved, engaged.  While there had always been racism, the exclusion of blacks crept into the U.S. maritime world following the Civil War and was kept there by Jim Crow.  See W. Jeffrey Bolster, Black Jacks:  African American Seamen in the Age of Sail (Cambridge, MA:  Harvard University Press, 1998) and the chapter “Skilled Work” in Philip D. Morgan, Slave Counterpoint:  Black Culture in the Eighteenth-Century Chesapeake and Lowcountry (1998).

[21] The author uses “migrant” here to refer to the first West Africans under colonial rule to travel to the U.S. to study.  As the author indicates elsewhere in his narrative, those who studied in the U.S. – such as Nnamdi Azikiwe and Ghanian Kwame Nkkrumah– were a thorn in the side of the British colonial authorities because they usually returned with years of engagement in American activist politics, which were decidedly unparliamentarian.  In his autobiography, Azikiwe describes how those with American degrees also encountered prejudice in seeking for employment, as the British considered American education far inferior to the British system.

[22] Liberia was founded in 1841 by African Americans and it is to these Americo-Liberians, as they are called, that the author refers.  For more on Liberian history, see Marie Tyler-McGraw, An African Republic:  Black and White Virginians in the Making of Liberia (Raleigh, NC: University of North Carolina Press, 2007).  For an account that focuses on the personal and political history of Liberia, see the memoir by Liberian-American journalist Helene Cooper, The House at Sugar Beach:  In Search of a Lost African Childhood (New York:  Simon & Schuster, 2008).

[23] Dr. James Emmanuel Kwegyir Aggrey (1875-1927) was a Ghanian educator, sociologist, theologian, politician, author and noted pan-Africanist.  Educated in Ghana and the U.S. (Livingstone College, North Carolina and Columbia University, New York), Aggrey was co-founder of the famed Achimota College in Ghana.  He was also a member of the Phelps-Stokes Commission.

[24] This is an interesting way to designate the superior.  Was this perhaps how the (Nigerian/African) students referred to the superior?

[25]