OLD RELIABLE VINTAGE CAR
By
Seye Adetunmbi
First published in The Nation on 3/3/10
Cultivating Preservation Culture - The
Story of a 1975 Peugeot 404
(An extract from Mindset a
compendium of published essays 1986-2012)
Preserving
the car till now, no doubt had been quite challenging. It indeed involved
a lot of commitment, passion and personal conviction to keep it for as long as
possible. I grew up seeing my father took care of his Peugeot 403 and later the
Peugeot 404. He was such a meticulous person who kept to the manufacturer's
instructions religiously. The cars went for routine servicing on
schedule at the workshop of aba Ojo-Eko in Ado-Ekiti, a journey of 14 miles from
home. The trend continued until oga Adetu a competent Peugeot mechanic got to
our home town, Ifaki-Ekiti. Anyway, hardly could a week passed that he won't
have one reason to go to Ado, or pass through the town in his days. If it was
not Nigerian Union Teachers (NUT) thing, it might be matters involving Ifaki
Grammar School where he worked; it could be Ekiti Anglican Diocese issue,
parish needs, community's runs and integrated family engagements etc.
At any rate, once the vehicle was due to see the technicians in Ado, it
had to be worked out without delay. Baba drove his car to the book.
He was very particular about details, the way the gear was engaged and the
clutch released not to talk of adhering strictly to traffic rules. He said when
a good driver changes the gear from one level to the other, it must be smooth
such that a passenger hardly notices. Auto-shift cars make it a lot
easier these days.
Despite the fact that he realised that I was already a competent driver at
age 14, he never allowed me to drive any car until I was qualified to
obtain driver's license. Subsequent to his approval for me to drive him in the
late 1970s and 1980s, my speed limit between Ekiti and Ibadan was 80 kilometers
per hour which increased to 90 kilometers per hour on Ibadan to Lagos express
way. I had no choice than to behave myself while driving him because he had
told and warned me upfront that if I was apprehended for any traffic offence he
would tell the police that “yes, he is my son, I have warned him, he won't listen;
take him away”! That was my vintage Dad fo you.
Thus, you must be damn
good to drive him and be retained as his driver. One
day, a professional driver was got for him in a jiffy to drive him to Ibadan for
a function. When they got to Ido-Ekiti, 7 miles away from home, he gave the
driver money to go back home after considering the stress of using him for the
journey and the inconvenience of driving himself. He was inclined to bear the
burden of the latter. His evergreen best hands were Messrs Orija, Jacob
Ogunmiluyi a.k.a. Father Jaco and “morning sir all the time”, Chief Ojo Yeuge
Bamigboye, egbon Ayeni, oga Babalola among others. The last two were my driving
instructors when the car was taken to the brook for wash. Teaching me
how to drive a car at my age then, Baba must not know. Thus, when children in those days voluntarily followed
driver to go and wash the car, there was more to it.
Ordinarily by the time Baba passed-on, on the 21st of March 1990,
his car deserved a good rest having served him so well for 15 years.
The car came when he was the national leader of NUT and had to attend
conferences and regional meetings in Lagos, Ibadan, Benin, Kaduna, Akure, and
Port Harcourt. Traveling to Ibadan was like attending weekly church programme.
Apart from NUT trips, he was the Dealer of Shell Filling Station (later
National Oil) 1974-1982. This required traveling to Ibadan to book for fuel,
follow-up at Ore depot and sometimes at Mosimi. Meanwhile, runs within Ekiti towns
and villages were more of an every other day affair. The car also was
a major tool in facilitating transportation for his remarkable subsistence
farming, which was religiously sustained annually.
About a year after my MBA, I got my first formal job in a stockbroking
firm in July 1990 on a total annual salary package of N19,000. One of my older
brothers and I stopped over to see our mother at Ifaki sometime in August 1990;
it was an emotional encounter because few months back was when the body of the
patriarch was laid to rest. When I told Mama about my new job, she told me to
take the 404 and use in Lagos. I got a younger kinsman, Ojo, a
mechanic based in Ibadan who happened to be around in Ifaki during the visit to
drive the car to my Ibadan based panel beater friend, Olu Iyadunni to attend to the body works
and give the vintage 404 car a face lift for a new round of
runs.
I finally brought to Lagos the refurbished car with leather
upholstery after spending few months in the workshop. A friend saw the good job
and said I should change the Ekiti Province plate number to a Lagos
registration number. I said “mba”
(no); my excitement is in the "WP 2131 A" vehicle registered plate number. 404 cars were
already getting fewer on the roads because the brand had been phased out and
the vehicle new body spare parts were scarce. Engine and other parts that are
compatible to 504 were easier to get. I didn't want to give up on holding to
the vintage car. I recall my boss when I was working in Apapa in 1991
wanted me to let go so that the company could provide additional fund to get me
a modern modest car for my use. I politely declined. My preference
was to have a separate car, while I kept the car.
By 1992 I got a job with an access to an official car in a way.
This helped me to put some pressure off the 404 to some extent. Some
of the people around me didn't see it the way I saw it. Expectedly, I was somehow
alone in my trip. Fine, some people thrilled when they saw the car, while a few
friends bugged me. One day I jammed good funk music with installed 300 watts
pioneer loud speakers at Unilag Squash Club, everybody was happy. One of
them said I should sell the music sound system and buy a new car. Another
day at the Club, someone saw new sets of Dunlop tires on the four wheels and
said: “Kako, why don't you sell the tires and buy another car”. I enjoyed
all the mixed jibes which I now reminiscence on, with refreshing feelings.
My concern was more for people who were not comfortable with my riding
such a car. Left to me, I was having fun and taking my time like the
proverbial patient bird. One of my very good friends told my mother that he had
harassed me so many times on the car because no Lagos spinster will
marry me riding 404 as an eligible bachelor and a corporate man. I grinned and
said to myself on the inside, “too bad”. As a matter of fact, I appreciated
their anxiety, but couldn't help the situation. Perhaps one of the reasons why I have been so attached to the car is the fact that I was with Baba when he traveled to Ilesha where he bought the car for N4,000 thereabout in 1975. I sat beside him when he drove it to Ifaki-Ekiti from Ilesha. Also I consolidated my driving of a car with the car in 1976 though I actually started learning how to drive with his right-hand-drive Peugeot 403 with the registration number of WL 6703.
I remember one “fresh date” that I offered to drive to her church for a
Sunday service. I got to her place a bit late and actually met her just
stepping out of her compound and of course she didn't know I was the one.
Apparently, she was not expecting a corporate man to come and pick her up with
such a car. I turned back the car, had to hoot and then parked to pick
her. I really felt for her, because it was obvious how uncomfortable she was.
Poor her, she brought out her dark goggles, wore it and adjusted the sitting
position such that her face won't be seen or too visible.
It was actually tough convincing some people that I just wanted to preserve
the car, they thought may be something was wrong with me and that there
was more to it because I couldn't let go the fond memories of my venerable
and beloved father. In the midst of it all, quite a number of people thumped-up
when they saw me in the car. I must also admit that it got to a stage, I
almost got tired of it all and needed another car so that
the 404 could rest.
Thank God the vintage car is
a “pensioner” today and I can tell the story of
an old reliable car that never let me down on the road
without prompt solution. In Lagos terrible and snarling traffic, going to work
and coming back, no overheating and no breakdown that couldn't be attended to
in time. In fact it was when the car had a mechanical fault on the
way home one day that I met “Baba Elewedu”
an old school mechanic and an Ekiti man in his 60s; we later became
friends as a result of attending to the regular servicing and periodic needs of
the car. Apart from providing mobility to the office, I traveled with it
twice to Ekiti and once to Iloko Ijesha from Lagos in the early 1990s.
The 404 served diligently, until a well deserved retirement. You may
then agree with me that the 43 years old vintage car (in
2018) is worth celebrating, to the delight of all. Had it been that I fell for
the pressure, the story would have been different today if at all there would
have been any story to tell.
Mindscope Africa is an initiative that evolved to formally publish well researched, informed and educative essays on contemporary issues to uplift mankind and promote sustainable good governance in Nigeria.
It was actually tough convincing some people that I just wanted to preserve
the car, they thought may be something was wrong with me and that there
was more to it because I couldn't let go the fond memories of my venerable
and beloved father. In the midst of it all, quite a number of people thumped-up
when they saw me in the car. I must also admit that it got to a stage, I
almost got tired of it all and needed another car so that
the 404 could rest.
