The gamer boy
‘Ẹ káalẹ́, Alhaja, mélòó ló kù tó máa fi kàn mí?’
This is often my first line whenever I enter Dynamism Multiventures. My inquiry is to know how much time is left before it gets to my turn.
At first glance, Dynamism Multiventures is a ‘posh’ name but what the shop is really known as on Abiodun Falade Street is Game house Alhaja. In the early 2000s, the shop which is divided into two compartments — one for PlayStation (PS) gaming and the other for VCD rent — attracts some of the most notorious gamers around Wole-Ola Estate and Ogo-Oluwa in Osogbo, Osun State.
How I came by the place I can’t really recall but for someone who treks and explores streets a lot during that time, it was only a matter of time before I struck the gold of game. Some of the earliest faces I frequently encountered included Sodiq Alimi, Qamardeen Ogunbusola and Dayo Adedara.
The year was 2004 and after my first encounter, obsession naturally set in. I wanted to be as good as some of the veteran regulars and make mouth the way they did. Then, the cost of a five-minute PS2 football game was N15. After playing 3 rounds, you’d get one free. So, it became the norm for me to go there with N50 and leave with N5 change.
After a couple of visitation to Alhaja’s shop, I couldn’t hide the excitement. I shared it with my brother and best buddy, Deji. We went together one fateful night after managing to escape the stern watch of our mum. Although he didn’t share the same level of excitement, after showing him the controls, he still managed to drag the very first game we played to penalty shootout which he won. Of course, I was pained, and to add that I paid for the game. Afterwards, I promised myself revenge and I dedicated more time to it.
A friend of mine who was also my JSS2b classmate, Ibukun Ogunmakin, had his house directly opposite Alhaja’s game house. Because of the addictive nature of PS, I sought ways of finding my way there without repercussion from Iya Kola. Ibukun became my go-to excuse to indulge in my game escapades. I would borrow his notebook on my way back home and would tender it to my mum. It worked for a while until I ran out of steam.
My mum would quiz, ‘What is the essence of going to school if you won’t copy the note your teachers write on the blackboard for you?’ And then came times that the Ogunmakins would have locked their gate by the time I was done satisfying my gaming appetite. It was always a long walk home because I knew what was waiting for me. ‘It is Ibukun all the time, as if it’s a spell,’ my mum would lash out before some heavy beating descended on what has now become an enviable tall and chubby body. My brother would look at me in pity, he knew where I’d been.
As I advanced in class, so did my escapades. Soon, I moved to senior secondary school and started attending popular extramural centre in Osogbo, Penworth. Penworth was the number one tutorial centre in the city then, especially because of the almost flawless English prowess of the Ghanaian owner, Baba Akwa. He is one of the pioneers of tutorial centres in Osogbo.
As Penworth became my second school after Christ Royal Comprehensive High School, I also sought a centre close to the place as it was far away from the prying eyes of my tenacious mother — and totally excusable. Andrew’s place at Oke-fia, very close to Rasco Hall, became the new underworld.
I had graduated from playing five minutes to 10 but my meagre allowance could not cater for it. I got N50 every day as transport fare to Penworth. Those were the days of taxis, shortly before the influx of korope (mini-bus). I would trek to and fro without spending a dime. I would save up the N50 from Monday to Friday, then storm Andrew’s game house late afternoon on Friday. 10-minute game cost N20 and I would have saved up not less than N200. Unlike now, there was no Kashbase to help with my saving ‘culture’ and even give me returns.
I could afford to play up to 12 games including the ‘free games’ that came after 5 rounds of games. That’s hours, at a stretch. Fridays at Penworth were for Agric. It was the one subject nobody ever failed at my school. I mean, who fails Agric.? Hence, I had no conscience prick on wasting away Jimoh oloyin. Even when I wrote GCE, pre-SS3 WASSCE, I wouldn’t stop knocking on the doors of game houses.
Now the big question, how did I cope with my academics? Well, somehow, my academics never really suffered. In fact, in my SS classes, I never went home with less than two awards at the end of the session. But I must confess that I watched game addiction derail many, either into serial gambling or wasting many years repeating O’level exams.
Perhaps due to Iya Kola’s prayers, I always seemed to get my priorities right. Although blessed with a sharp mind, I never joked with exams (except for that GCE though). I had a smooth sail into the university, at the first attempt. Despite my escapades, I could never bring myself to bet. Not once.
Birthdays are normally attended by reflection and looking back, some 17 years after my gaming debut, although the addiction remains as I have a year 2050 PES master league on my laptop, I can say that the archetype of ‘only the serious ones succeed’ doesn’t always hold water. The race might be man’s but the grace is with God.
Happy Birthday Kola Muhammed! To adventures… 🍻🍻🍻
