Obododimma Oha: Teacher and father I was proud to have
By Ndubuisi Martins Aniemeka
I had read bits and pieces about him before I came into the MA programme in the Department of English, University of Ibadan, Oyo State, Nigeria. I confess that I came to learn mainly from the names much like you join or support a football club because of the stars in the team. Prof. Obododimma Oha was one of the leading stars in his field. He was towering from afar. I wanted to draw as much from him and others I had literarily penned down the qualities to derive from each. I left home thinking of the need to learn and that I’d use every opportunity I have to learn from and develop outstanding competencies in English and literature.
I remember going for a few classes in Stylistics before I realised it clashed with another core course in Literature (my concentration) and I tried everything to find a way to attend Oha’s class, but it wasn’t possible. I sought to influence a change in the timetable, because coming to the University of Ibadan, I had targeted to draw as much knowledge from key scholars whom I often admired from afar. Oha was one of them.
Fortune made it that while I rued not taking Stylistics, Oha would eventually teach me Literature and the New Media in the second semester of my MA programme. The intense exposure to literature and the new media that Oha diligently taught came in handy in my PhD programme at Charles University. I was happy that 2/3 of the reading list in one of the seminars I took at Charles was already done with in UI and has been taught us by Professors Oha, Nelson O. Fashina, Aderemi Raji-Oyelade, and Remy Oriaku, in their various courses that made me feel at home in the class discussions and seminars here in Prague. It was as if they literally prepared me for Literate Technologies and other seminars that I took here. The truth is, Oha’s list appeared almost insane at that time, but because I loved to read and wanted to be as versatile as possible, it was enjoyable to read as much. How could you love Oha and hate books? How on earth?
Oha is synonymous with depth and the uncanny. He led us through various books in his course. A segment of a course in the week was packed with readings that felt too urgent for me to read even if a chapter or two was what time permitted. I felt the man unreal with how much he knew. How much books he discussed in various topics. It was fun to learn from him. I wasn’t surprised when I learnt he made a first class from the University of Calabar. And that he was also fiercely outstanding at his Master’s programme. Oha was deeply human even when I placed him in the realms of gods of intellect and erudition.
Whether he was teaching a course in language or literature, you wanted to listen to Oha. whose ethical-mindedness felt to me as the strong proof that a man of genuine knowledge came to embody ethical clarity and impatience for the banal and the stupid. It reflected in many of his views about noise around academic settings. He loved the right things. Others might find him weird, but I thoroughly loved his method of madness. He was sane in a crazy world, so he’d be considered a rebel, or perhaps, a cyberpunk, to use a word I first learnt from his class.
Prof. Obododimma Oha
Oha loved his students — I can attest to his personal intervention in my life. There was a time I felt he believed in me more than I believed in myself. He was one of the top four educators in my life that I could not joke with because of what they represented: knowledge and integrity of character.
Someone peered into my transcript and saw my score in Literature and the New Media and said, ‘you must really earn it to score an A in that man’s course.’ I quickly brushed that aside, as I don’t think Oha wanted less than that for everyone he taught. He aimed to produce students who reflected his image. So, how could he not match his action with evaluation of his students? I hate to think I know as many assume. I have only been so lucky to have teachers who loved me, made me believe that I had so much. Oha was one of those I could mention in the top three of my best teachers in my years of schooling. Many of my friends know the teachers I don’t joke with. These teachers earned this. It’s not given through top grades; it’s by depth of knowledge, dispatched with passion, and unimpeachable character. I love a teacher who loves their students and pushes us to our limits to become better. I have had such teachers and I’m grateful. Yeah, lucky, even fortunate. My students are sure to find me exhibit the qualities that my top teachers instilled in me.
No one who read the reference letter Oha wrote in support of my graduate applications overseas wouldn’t probably think I was a genius. He had that impression too, and each time I doubted myself, the burden of evidence from my remarkable teachers like him helped me every time to overcome fear and doubt. I read the letter last night again. I’m in search of all texts that embody Oha, to relive his moments here. He left with so much to still offer the world. He kept a blog he ran even while sick for years; a strong proof that his brains still worked so efficiently and he loved to pen his width. All that represented that man whose integrity of words and actions felt too un-Nigerian. Perhaps, the world was too small, and he had left for a place better and beautiful place.
If you wonder why Oha’s death is so painful to me, this is not even the complete story. It’s just a chapter of it.
* Aniemeka is a PhD Candidate at the Centre of Critical and Cultural Theory, Department of Anglophone in Literatures and Cultures, Charles University, Prague, Czech
