Popular comedian, Chief Chika Okpala, also known as Zebrudaya Okoroigwe Nwogbo, alias 430, hit national prominence through the New Masquerade, a play aired on the network service of the Nigerian Television Authority (NTA). In this interview with Daily Trust on Sunday, he spoke on his journey through life in the theatre of war and plays, even during the heat of the Nigeria-Biafra war, and how the crisis almost killed his ambition to become an artiste.
Chief, how was life when you were growing up?
Well, I grew up like any other human being. I grew up in several cities, including Nnobi in Anambra State but my parents lived in Ahuoda, Rivers State. I started elementary school in Nnobi, but before school age, I was with my parents in Ahuoda.
When it was time to start schooling, my father said his children would be brought up at our hometown in Nnobi. We wanted to know the language and culture of our people. Also, we needed to have a feel of the village life. So I was sent back to Nnobi to start my elementary school. I did elementary school up to Class Two and was later taken back to Government School, Ahuoda in 1961.
I did my Standard One in Ahuoda in 1961. In 1962, I went to Joint Grammar School, I don’t know whether it is in Bayelsa State or Rivers State now. I did my Standard Two to Standard Six in that school and took entrance examination to secondary school. I passed the entrance examination to three institutions, but my father insisted I should attend a school with bias for commercial studies so that he would have an accountant who would take care of his money for him. He didn’t want to pay another person for the job of an accountant if he had a son that could do it. So I went to a secondary school with commercial bias. I gained admission to Prince Memorial High School, Onitsha. At Prince Memorial, we had so many little kids. Before then it used to be fully grown men because those that were in Class Two when we came into Class One were up to the age of fathering children. I think they had children that time, and we were afraid of them.
I entered secondary school in 1964, but as soon as we got to Class Four in 1967, the civil war started. So there was nothing we could do than to obey the drums that were beating around the Eastern Region. People were running helter-skelter. People were being sent back from the North to the Eastern Region. And we were witnessing these things. They were very amazing. We were so surprised that fellow brothers could maim and kill their fellow brothers like that. We never experienced that type of thing before.
What were your parents doing in Ahuoda?
My father was a trader. He was dealing in petrol and cigarettes. He was a distributor in the Nigerian Tobacco Company (NTC). Also, he was representing Mobil Oil. So when I went home on holidays, it was either I went to the filling station to help and sell petrol and diesel or the store to sell cigarettes. But I didn’t like the smoke of cigarettes, so I never got near the smoke area. My mother was a seamstress. She was busy sewing for young girls and women. During Christmas period they would be so busy that they won’t have time to attend to the children. That was how everybody would realise that Christmas was at hand.
How did the civil war affect your studies and your parents’ businesses?
My elder brother, who was at the Institute of Management and Technology (IMT) in Enugu, could not complete his studies. He was reading Electrical/Electronic Engineering. He had to cut off the programme and come back home to save his life because the enemies were advancing into Enugu. Everybody ran away from Enugu. So it affected my elder brother that way. For me who was schooling at Prince Memorial High School, Onitsha, we had flee. We went back to Ahuoda, but unfortunately, the enemies were also coming to Ahuoda, so I had to flee Ahuoda again to Nnobi, my hometown. So there was no hiding place for the boy. At home, as time went on, we could not be idle and looking at things just like that.
I had a background at school – I belonged to the Dramatic Society. There were so many societies in school, such as Literary Society, Geographical Society, Dramatic Society. You were free to choose any of the societies and move in, so I chose the Dramatic Society.
Why did you choose the Dramatic Society?
I chose that one because of the films I watched; and I wanted to be an actor so that people would also be itching to see me on the screen. So during the war, with a group of friends, we formed the Two Cities Play House. Some of my friends were from Awka-Etiti while others, like the writer of our play, the late Dr Ogochukwu Agu, were from Nnobi. All of us moved together; and when we finished rehearsals and got a show ready, we would ask for who would commission our play. Luckily, we had Prof. Jerry C. Umeh of the University of Nigeria, Enugu Campus (UNEC). He also loved arts. We went to him and said we saw him as an elite in the society, and that we had rehearsed a good play and wanted to use the show to cushion the effect of anxiety in Nnobi. We wanted to move round with this show so that people could come in the evening and watch and laugh off the stress and tension caused by the war. If possible, we wanted to get the show to Biafran Army formations and perform for them. We wanted him to watch the play and criticise it, with a view to endorsing it.
He gave us a date to come and perform, but we didn’t know he had gone to call all the elite in town and some people who did not know what we were talking about. He gathered people, including those who had returned from different parts of the country and were idling away their time, drinking palm wine. We went there to perform, and it was a huge success for us. With that kind of crowd and the applause they gave us, we knew we would go places.
Eventually, after the performance, they gave us a very nice commendation openly, saying we had done what Napoleon could not do. Prof Umeh said he was praying that the war would not affect our movements, rehearsals and performances. Everybody prayed for us and wished us well. They said they knew we would make it. That’s how we started.
Now, we went to the 11 Division of the Biafran Army in Nnewi, and they were highly thrilled by our performance. Then we went to the 66 Brigade in Alor. We also went to the Army Divisional Headquarters, or what did they call it? That was in Akabor, near Owerri. That was where General Phillip Effiong, the second-in-command of the Biafran Army was. General Effiong so much liked our plays that he booked us to come once in three weeks or once in a month, as the case may be. But Akabor was very close to Owerri where the theatre of war was, and we were not very comfortable. However, we accepted Effiong’s offer because what we were looking for was the endorsement of our plays or shows.
Were you getting the endorsement?
We were getting it. It was very successful.
Was your aim to douse the tension created by war?
Exactly, especially the tension in the army – those people who had gone to the warfront and were shot and had injuries on their heads, hands, legs or some other parts of the bodies; and of course, those soldiers who didn’t have food to eat, and all that. We were using our shows to reduce tension and the anxiety brought about by the war. We moved from one place to another till the war ended.
I also registered in the Red Cross so that any week we were not performing, I would help humanity. In the Red Cross, we would carry food from Caritas International to the warfront for soldiers and civilians who were around them. The food items from Caritas were mainly for the civilians, but you had to appease the soldiers, otherwise they would use their guns to take away the food from civilians. And those who were giving us the food – the Caritas – will not like to hear that. So those of us in the Red Cross were going to the warfront and entering the crossfire. But we were so lucky that we were never hurt.
How do you feel about the present agitation for Biafra?
It brings memories of what happened during the civil war. When people are not given their rightful positions in the society, even in the family, you do not expect peace. For example, if you know that this is your elder brother and you give him his rightful position, there won’t be any problem in the house. And when you give your younger brother what belongs to him, there will be no problem. But where the elder brother takes away everything belonging to the younger brother, there must be agitation and fight. That is how I see this pro-Baifra agitation going on. I see them asking for what they are supposed to get as their own right, which is denied them. And the Federal Government is not helping matters, which is not right
because we are all human beings. God created everybody equally. But if you can work harder than the other person, you become more intelligent than the other fellow. Nobody wishes to see war the second time because the first one wasn’t a good thing. In a war situation you are never sure of your family. I am saying this because I witnessed the civil war.
An air raid could clear all the people at the same time. The ground troops also moved. Anybody the ground troop saw on the road was an enemy and they would kill the person. So if you were
unfortunate to be seen on the road, you were finished. If they came into your compound and you were still there, they would finish you. So nobody would say that war is good for him, no matter who you are. War is not a welcome development, therefore, anything we can do to avoid war, let us do it. Let’s dialogue if necessary. We Nigerians should learn to obey the rules of dialogue. Let us learn how to respect agreements. This is my advice to both the government and the agitators. Government should call the agitators and ask them what their problem is. Government should listen to the agitators’ complaints.
After the war, what happened to the Two Cities Play House?
After the war, the Two Cities Play House eventually dissolved itself because everybody was looking for a new life. All of us could not stay again at Nnobi or Awka-Etiti. People were planning to go to Lagos, Enugu and Onitsha. People were going to the North and all that. It wasn’t possible to gather all of us again. Others were going to complete their education, that is, those who still had the resources to
do so. But those who couldn’t, like me at that time, my parents said, “Sorry, we lost all we had in the war. We are managing to see if we can feed and even feed you. So where can we find the money to train you? We don’t have the money. You have to train yourself. Others trained themselves like that. There are so many cases of people who trained themselves. So try and train yourself.’’ That was the advice I got from my father.
So the war ruined all his business ventures in Ahuoda?
Yes. All his business ventures were ruined completely. My father couldn’t go back to take his filling station because the people over there had occupied it and refused to release it. The only things he got back were the plots and houses he had there. But those who were living in the houses were not paying; not even one tenant was paying because there was war. And there was no business for people to come to city from the hinterland and reside in the township. So it was as useless as not having a house. So he said there was nothing he could do, other than see what he could do around here and feed my mother and siblings.
What were you doing immediately after the war?
After the war I went back to the Red Cross. That was the time for rehabilitation. Eventually, there was a vehicle travelling from Nnobi to Awka and from Awka to Enugu. It was an opportunity to move. All my friends had left and some went to Enugu, but I had nobody in Enugu. I had never visited Enugu at that time; it was Onitsha I visited. So I went home and told my mother that I was interested in leaving Nnobi for Awka to know whether I could get to Enugu, where everybody was. She said, “But you have not finished schooling.’’ I said, ‘But you people said you didn’t have money to send me back to school. So why can’t I train myself? Others are training themselves.’ She said, “If you want to go, tell your father that you are leaving Nnobi.’’ So I went and told my father. He was excited and said he was happy to hear that. You see, we were nine children. We had two girls and seven boys.
My father gave me the go-ahead and I left and went to the Red Cross headquarters in Nnobi. The vehicle loaded goods to convey to Awka. I boarded the truck, and when we got to Awka, there was no place to sleep. I didn’t know any familiar face. I began to think of the next thing to do. I was still pondering until a thought came to me, and it was like: ‘Why don’t I join this vehicle to Enugu since Enugu is the ultimate?’ The thought said, ‘go to Enugu, you may find people you know there. And you may find colleagues that may say, ‘come let’s go and patch life together.’
So I left Awka after two hours at the motor park. I jumped back into the truck because I didn’t have the money to pay as fare. That was how I went to Enugu. We got to the Red Cross Centre in Enugu, opposite Ogbette Market and the vehicle stopped us. We disembarked. People were standing on the line to take food. There was corn food, yam and other things you could eat and feel okay. And I said, ‘why don’t I settle down here?’ So I joined the queue. The Red Cross officials were looking for what to use in putting my own food for me, so I went and picked a wooden bowl that was thrown away, cleaned it, went to the tap, washed it and came in and had my eba (garri), soup and meat on it. As the Red Cross people were serving the people they were saying, “Ah, ah, we need a supervisor here.’’ At that point, I said I worked in the Red Cross and they said, “If you work in the Red Cross, where is your identity card?’’ I brought it out and gave to them. And they said, “You are employed as supervisor of Clinic Kitchen.’’ As a supervisor, I was to make sure that everybody who stood on the line had food to eat, and that the food came on time from the kitchen. I was also to ensure that nobody tampered with the food, except those who were authorised to share it.
At the end of the week, I was given a half bag of stockfish. And two of us would share a bag of rice, about 10 tubers of yam, and sometimes, about 12 tubers of yam. Also, three of us would share one bag of salt. That was my salary. In fact, which place did people see that kind of favour? My elder brother got a hint of the food and came to me and started cooking in my house. I took whatever remained to our parents in Nnobi. When I took the foodstuff home, my mother saw that heaven had opened. I dropped all those things and ran back to Enugu while my mother was jubilating. After about a month, my parents sent my younger brother to me, saying maybe I didn’t see who to give food to send to them, that’s why they hadn’t seen me again. But I explained that they had not paid me like that again; adding that when they paid me like that I would bring something to them. That was how my early life was.
Did any of your plays impact on the society?
Yes. There were many of them, but I can recall how one particular performance spurred the then military governor of old Anambra State, the late Air Commodore Sampson Emeka Omeruah, who was a group captain then, to build public toilets in Enugu because there was none in the entire state capital. Unfortunately, subsequent administrations never saw the need to maintain the public toilet facilities; that’s why people can now afford to defecate in the open. It’s very embarrassing. I recall that by the time we finished our performance in the State House, Enugu, the following week, Omeruah gave order for them to build a public toilet in Enugu. The project was immediately executed and the people enjoyed the facility. It was functional until he left office. But his successors in office did not see why there should be public toilets. There were so many other things we did, but I have forgotten them. If you had given me enough time to research for the interview, I would have gotten the facts and figures.
At what point in your career did you realise that you had the gift of injecting humour into the things you say and do?
I didn’t know how it came about. I think it’s just something that came on its own. I didn’t know I was criticising people and correcting them at the same time because people were laughing. I didn’t know that the laughter I was adding to what we did showed that I was on the right track. At times people would realise that the plays had elements of truth in the messages. And people would say, ‘listen to this man next week; he is saying the truth.’ That was during the New Masquerade era. And you found out that when the New Masquerade was on, people must rush to the television every week to watch the programme. I can hardly find any other programme people watched like that, apart from football. We did that, and with the powers of Chineke God, it was moving. It was actually correcting the ills in the society.
Some of your fans out there still think that Ovuleria in the New Masquerade is your real wife. Can you tell us about your real wife?
Okay, it’s good to also talk about it. Ovuleria is my stage wife, and she wasn’t the first stage wife I had. I had Mrs Celina Ogbedia Nwogbo. After Mrs Celina, I had Getrude Appolonia Godgift Nwogbo, I had Magandaline. After Magandaline, I had Ovuleria Uredia Nwogbo. Everybody knows her because of her performance and the way she marries Chief Zebrudaya very well. She understands Chief Zebrudaya, and Zebrudaya understands her. So I want to say that Ovuleria is only a stage wife.
Christy Okpala is my real wife that has my beloved children for me. She is also not doing badly. She has been able to cope with my association with my stage wife because it’s not easy to actually look like a husband when you are not. You have to have some kind of in-depth understanding before it can work together, but we just partnered like that and it worked out and we decided to hold on to that style and it’s been going on.
Was there any time Christy Okpala felt embarrassed after watching Zaybee during a performance with his stage wives?
I wouldn’t know. She has not expressed that to me. We performed in several places, Cameroon, Sierra Leone and different cities of Nigeria, where we performed severally. Christy Okpala doesn’t go with me. However, all of us in the troupe respect one another, and we would go together: Apeno would go with Jegede. Later on, he would go with Ramatu. And then, Chief would go with Ovuleria, and my daughter, Philo would also travel with us, and all the boys that went along with us, Zaki and all. We all moved together. Nothing happened. We didn’t see ourselves as lovers; we saw ourselves as business partners.
How did you meet your wife?
I met her when my father decided that he had to dictate a wife for me. My father said he had a friend who had a daughter in Enugu. I was at Cock Crow at Dawn in Jos. Then from Jos I went to Nnobi to see my parents and find out how they were faring when we had this discussion. So when I came back to see my father at Nnobi, he said, “Look, it’s time to get married.’’ So I said, ‘Are you sure you have somebody?’ And he said yes. I asked who she was and my father said, go to so and so place and they will show you the person. ‘If you like her, do your talking from there. If you don’t like her, come back and tell me.’
So I came to Enugu that same day and went to their office at Federal Pay Office, Uwani. The boss happened to be an old boy of Prince Memorial High School, Onitsha. I told him why I came and he was very happy. He said, “Okay, I’m going to bring her out for you.’’ So I stayed at a place while he sent for her. She came and we talked. I told her that I was sent to come and find out whether she would accept me as a husband. She said yes, although she was shy – the initial shyness of women, trying to draw figure 3 on the ground, and all that. I said we would come back in three weeks time because I had to go back to Jos and take permission from my boss, Peter Igho. So on the appointed date, I came down. That was how we met.
Is the family blessed with children?
Yes, we are blessed with three children, but we lost one. My first daughter died when she was about going to the university. That was very unfortunate. But we have the other two – a boy and a girl. The girl has married, and she’s got a child now. So I’m a grandpa. And my son is also trying to get married. They are all working in Abuja.
