I begin this short autobiography by stating clearly that I do not blame my teachers, especially my former principal, Sir Gberkon, who withdrew me from Bristow Secondary School for truancy, even though I had passed my promotion examination to Form 5—the final year in our days at Bristow (1988). We were the last Form 5 set before the introduction of SS3 in 1991 through the 6-3-3-4 system.
The purpose of this write-up is to encourage students to be obedient to school rules and regulations so they can achieve their God-ordained destiny with the guidance, discipline, and support of their teachers. On the other hand, I plead with teachers to be more patient with naïve and erring students. This is not to excuse truly disruptive behaviour, which must be addressed appropriately, but to urge educators not to “throw away the baby with the bathwater.”
My Journey to NKST Bristow Secondary School, Gboko
I grew up partly in my village, Agbadu Mbatiav, and in Gboko town. I attended LGEA Primary School, Agbadu Mbatiav, for Primary 1 and 2. After the death of my grandfather, Chief Agbadu Liam, the clan head of Mbazaka, I moved to Gboko.
My grandfather, Zaki Agbadu, was a great man of his time. He had 27 wives and numerous children, yet we all lived in the same large compound. He was wealthy and paid us, his grandchildren, for weeding his vast compound. With this money, we would buy akosai, rogo and akpukpa at school, enjoying privileges as children of a respected clan head.
I was Zaki Agbadu’s favourite, and whenever my mother, Mama Mtema, disciplined me, he would scold her, saying, “Why are you beating the one who resembles me in resilience?” in Tiv: Ka u a beem ne je u lu kpiden ye.
I was indeed resilient, even with hunger. While my age mates cried after school from hunger, I would laugh. Baba Agbadu would then call me to his atê (local hut) and give me momo (a type of Tom-Brown porridge).
This upbringing helped me develop the ability to endure hunger during my time at Bristow. I would go without food all day but sneak home at night to eat my grandmother’s delicious meals at No. 9 Anyamnyian Street, which later became Andohol Chor Street.
My Troubled School Years
In 1980, after my grandfather’s death, my maternal aunt, Movihinze Tor (now deceased), took me to Gboko and enrolled me in Primary 3 at St. John’s Primary School. However, Primary 3 and 4 classes were held in the evening due to inadequate classroom space. I found it difficult to attend afternoon classes while my friends played after school.
Joy returned when I discovered that NKST Primary School, Gboko South, held all classes in the morning. Fortunately, their uniforms matched St. John’s. Without informing my aunt, I simply started attending NKST instead.
On my first day, I joined the Primary 3 assembly line but hesitated to enter the class. The headmaster noticed me and summoned me to his office. When I explained my preference for NKST, he asked me to bring my guardian the next day.
Fearful, I went alone again. This time, he gave me a few strokes of the cane for disobedience. On the third day, I returned, and the headmaster, recognising my persistence, instructed a teacher: “This boy loves school; take him to the appropriate class.” That’s how I got admitted to NKST Primary School.
I later left after Primary 4 to complete my education at my village school, Akpagher, Mbatiav, in 1984. Out of 32 graduates in my class, only two of us passed the Benue State Common Entrance Examination. I chose KCC Mkar for secondary school.
After Form 2, a neighbour, the late Baba Iorshimbe, helped me gain admission into Form 3 at NKST Bristow Secondary School, Gboko. However, my grandmother’s home was close to the school, and in Form 4, I frequently left the boarding hostel at night to eat at her place. To avoid punishment, I would skip morning lessons and join classes after the break, copying notes from classmates.
One day, my Geography teacher, Mr. Kofi, a Ghanaian, called me to his office. He had noticed my absences but saw that I still passed his tests. When he asked why, I had no reasonable answer. I rejected school food because I knew my grandmother’s delicacies awaited me.
My friends—Msugh Vihi, Tarzaan Abur, and Luper Nyihemba—knew my grandmother well. She would say, “My son is suffering at Bristow” and would never sleep until I came home to eat. Eventually, my truancy led to my withdrawal from school. I will never forget the severe beating I received from Yua Agega for my misbehaviour!
Despite my mother’s repeated pleas, Principal Gberkon refused to take me back. I resigned myself to believing that whether one went to school or not, the goal was still to make money.
Turning Point: The Road to Redemption
A drastic event changed everything. Two former classmates, Tavershima and Janet Iorshimbe, were filling out JAMB forms, and I suddenly wished I had at least three credits to qualify for the School of Basic Studies (SBS). Inspired, I registered for the external WAEC, studied tirelessly, and attended evening lessons at St. Mark’s, Gboko.
I forced myself to develop a study habit. I moved out of my usual bedroom and slept on the ironing table in my uncle’s tailoring shop at Jos Street. The hard wooden surface caused me body pains, which became my natural alarm to wake up and read. Over time, it became routine. I turned my pain into gain, realising that for things to change in my life, I had to change my ways.
By God’s grace, I passed with five credits, though I had a deficiency in Physics. I sat for JAMB, scored 207, and was admitted to ABU Zaria for Geology. Not knowing what Geology was, I opted for Biology instead.
After a year, I remedied my Physics at the School of General and Remedial Studies (SGRS) and became eligible for Pharmacy or Medicine. My late classmate, Jeffrey Yua, who had been admitted for Medicine, advised me to take Pharmacy since it was a five-year course. We naively thought Pharmacy and Medicine were the same.
I completed Pharmacy, worked as a Chief Pharmacist, and later pursued Medicine at the Benue State University, fulfilling my childhood dream. By the time I was close to graduation, I had risen to Assistant Director of Pharmacy. Today, I serve as the Director of Medical Services at the Benue State Ministry of Health and Human Services, having worked in various hospitals across Benue State.
I am, to my knowledge, the only Tiv person to have successfully studied both Pharmacy and Medicine at the undergraduate level.
As the first graduate in my paternal extended family, I have mentored many including my fourth younger brother, Dr Isaac Ieren Agbadu, who is now in Canada with his children. He visited when we were having the famous Pharmacy Week and became motivated to come to ABU Zaria. He graduated in Veterinary Medicine and is now a public health physician. While at the ABU Zaria, I supported my academic pursuit with photography as a side hustle.
Lessons for Students and Teachers
My story highlights two types of headteachers:
1. One who saw beyond my childish mistake and gave me a chance.
2. One who strictly enforced discipline, leading to my expulsion.
I take full responsibility for my past misbehaviour, but I believe that many children have lost their destinies due to youthful foolishness and rigid disciplinary measures.
To students: Obey your teachers; they are preparing you to fulfill your God-given potential.
To teachers: Look at the bigger picture when dealing with erring students.
Final Words
“When your life feels shattered, gather the pieces and build an edifice. There is no building without pieces.” — AgbaduJosh, 2024.
Psalm 4:5 (NKJV)
“Offer the sacrifices of righteousness, and put your trust in the Lord.”
Thank you, teachers and students, for your time.
Dr. (Pharmacist) Joshua Iorbee Agbadu is an accomplished pharmacist and medical doctor based in Benue State, Nigeria.
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