The Leyline of Culture

    

     It was during the long strike, a little before COVID grounded everyone at home when I first heard of Jaw War. The pun in the name, while amusing, seemed the only thing remotely remarkable about it. Yet, the colleague who had brought it to my attention seemed to burn with some otherworldly levels of fervor and excitement at the words, Jaw War. I figured that it was simply my extreme reticence that was responsible for my ignorance. Till today, I have no idea if I was right. Still, I have come to be a torchbearer of that fire that makes men howl and shriek at the mention of the name.

    Jaw War, is touted to be the largest Public Speaking Platform in West Africa. And for good reason too. It is said that "Nothing Unites Nigerians like Football", some others say food. Yet, this unity of Nigerians is slightly gender biased and only attractive to those who find joy in watching grown men chase an expensive and intricate tchotchke around a really large area of land. The University of Ibadan, on the other hand, has grown quite famous for rooting its common uniter in the very ideals of University: learning, logic, and passion for knowledge and its application. The motto of the University of Ibadan is Recte Sapere Fons. Its meaning is this: "To think Straight is the Fount of Knowledge". Most universities are defined by their major inhabitants, students- showing off every weirdly deviated iota of culture and personality their minds can conjure, from fashion to sport to music and on.

    That being said, there exists a leyline that makes this diverse pot of young people meld and melt into the most united cacophony and the most sonorous song. Jaw War is this leyline of Unibadan Culture. Every session and only once every session, it inhales and draws in all sorts from all courses, departments, residences, and locations. This breath ends by depositing this crowd as the spectators to the forging of revolutionary orators, people in whose throats lie command attained by superior logic rather than brute force. The revelries here celebrate one-liners that sound so divine that the brain almost does not chew before digesting. The jabs here are delivered masterfully; just short of being truly malicious, yet managing to keep in the line of comic relief. The tension here starts from one speaker; the reverberation of screams and shrieks does not consider differences. All who appreciate mental and vocal beauty come here to get a fix.

    Thinking about it is not doing it; hearing about it is not doing it; talking about it is not doing it. Only doing it is doing it. I never understood the fanatical, manic ecstasy of Jaw War till I witnessed it. It started as many Nigerian events do, very Nigerian in fact. And at the very Nigerian start times, the chairs were more or less packed and groaning. Yet, as the event continued, Jaw War only kept inhaling numbers. The aisles and corridors were packed. The windows looked so full that one would have assumed that what was happening would greatly satisfy the stomach of the purse, the body, or the attendance sheets before a major evaluation. Yet, the food here was to be digested over hours while being delivered in minutes. The chairs received rest as the war of words wore on, with so many people jumping out of their seats when they were hit in the ears by succinctly and wonderfully delivered bullets of pure wisdom. The roof and the engineering worried me a bit; I figured so much screaming would eventually hit resonance frequencies and bring the concrete mammoth that hosted the great beast of Jaw War and its enthralled mob of hecklers down upon our heads. Yet, this somber reflection lasted but a picosecond as perfect witticism after perfect witticism flew. The badinage was sublime. Restraint was replaced by reflex and spinal level reactions while the brain went into overdrive, ensuring that words correctly translated into brilliant thought.

    This leyline is one I will never cease to respect. Here I learned that the voice of men could indeed exert almost opioid influence. This pipeline of culture swirls the University of Ibadan in every session, before disappearing just outside of eyeshot. The champions and participants usually take steps from Jaw War to hit high notes of success in other fields. We will forever remember the likes of Ayo-Salako Faithful, Mark Obeya, and Olu-Adegbola Folusho. Of suave chivalrous gestures that won the hearts of the audience, of repartees that paralyzed the opponent's logic and raised the heat of the crowd to boiling, of the legends we know and have, odes will never stop.

    That being said, every once in a while, I would wonder if I was being stupid sitting in this mindfully mindless crowd enjoying superior logic when I should have been reading. I wondered if I would be better off imitating some men of no culture who use the melting of Jaw War to melt the ice and steal phone numbers and hearts as the Jaw Warriors wore the war away. Still, I was reminded of one thing, the ones on stage will not always be around. The best we will have are videos and recordings, very pale renderings of the glory that has passed. I am a unique observer holding a unique perspective. I am an astronomer viewing these one-time supernovae burn bright, the sight, and the memory, is mine alone. Maybe I could be doing something else, but this is culture, this is tradition. This leyline must and will be built. Why can't I be a part? 

    Tomorrow marks the start, another chance to see what inspires the hype. Show up, and let's build together, the Road To ICC. The work starts at the New Faculty Lecture Theatre, Monday, November 25, 2024.

Salami Wisdom