He was called Ikoli.
We assumed that was his given name. So we, too, called him Ikoli. It didn’t make sense at the time to prefix it with Mr or Uncle or Boda.
He was just Ikoli.
That was until we learned that his real name was Columbus Irisoanga and Ikoli was just the name of character of Ikoli Harcourt White, he played so well it became his name.
He was acting teacher, dance and choreography teacher, friend, uncle and guardian all rolled in one, for many of us. He played each of the roles well, as he did everything he set his mind to.
The late great Professor Ola Gladstone Rotimi was the very best director Nigeria ever produced. Most dramatists who knew him or saw his works acknowledge this. He was also an uncompromising man when it came to theater and the quality of every department. He would not settle for anything but your best and then his!
He chose Columbus Irisoanga to play the lead character of Ikoli Harcourt White in his iconic drama, Hopes of the Living Dead.
No one else played Ikoli till Ola Rotimi died. He would not consider anyone else. No one could match him anyway, so no one bothered to challenge him for the role. He was just Ikoli, in vocal timber, carriage, interpretation, he just lived it. He was Ikoli.
As a teacher, he was calm, yet firm, ingenious in his teaching style that sucks you in without you realizing a creative genius.
He was so competent, the perfectionist Ola Rotimi never looked in once on his class to the best of my knowledge, to check if he was teaching quality.
Those who straddled Nollywood as colossi in its early days owe him everything they know about acting and performance – Hilda Dokubo, Francis Duru, Bob Manuel Udokwu, Daniel Wilson, Rita Dominics, Monalisa Chinda, Bimbo Manuel, Basorge Tariah Jnr, Lancelot Imasuen and a whole generation of others too many to list here!
He was a pride to Nigerian art, to the Crab Theater, to University of Port Harcourt and to Rivers State. His people in Okrika Land glow in pride of him as a son who did them proud.
That was the man who passed away quietly in Port Harcourt.
The very foundation of The Crab, as we call the Uniport Theater, vibrated gently in testimony of the transition of one of its greats.
All he wanted to do was dance, act, teach.
His happiest moments were on stage. It was his home.
He was a colossus.
It all seems now like yesterday when we traveled the country with Hopes of The Living Dead and Rasheed Gbadamosi’s Behold My Redeemer. His commanding presence on the tour compels you to take your job seriously without him being forceful about anything, just setting precedents, professional examples.
Ikoli fed me when I was in school. During those holidays that I did not even have enough to return home to Lagos, lonely, broke and hungry, he would invite me to his modest place next to where I lived in the ‘CTA Quarters’. He would gist with me, counsel me and teach me. They were invaluable times.
Ikoli was a great man. And he died.
He was not ever an intrusive man, just quietly going his own way, private yet warm and respectful of everyone.
I see his rugged face, even now, the fair skin glowing through on his chiseled face, almost hagard from hard work on the dance floor.
He was a fit man, fit for the career he chose.
There may have been some who did not like him but it would not have been for being a bad man or of ill-intent.
I did not see for a long while but the version of him that I knew, would not have hurt anyone or plot any underhand scheme against any.
But he died. Quietly. The soft breeze raised by his great soul still blows among those who knew him.
We were fortunate to have had Columbus Irisoanga, for he was a great man, and he left so much in us.
Rest well, Ikoli. Good night, Columbus.
Ikoli, eeeeee! Iyooooo!
