St Joseph’s Minor
Seminary, Zaria, at 50!
Zwahu, Y.E
“There
is a school I will take you to, you’ll love it there,” she said.
“Which
school is that?” I asked rather disinterestedly, rather thinking of the
Nigerian Military School, Zaria, where my friend already was and whose
appearance in smart military fatigue I admired and so longed to spot.
“It
is a school where young boys are groomed to become priests… Reverend Fathers.”
“Ehen,”
my interest spiked. Images of immediate past parish priest, Fr Thomas McNamara,
whom I so loved flashed through my head, and then those of the new one, Fr
Lawrence Bakut, too. I was always in awe of Fr Lawrence who had just been
ordained. He was young, spoke English the way I longed to, and just never
missed the opportunity to sing the Mass in Latin, no matter how little. I loved
the solemnity of the Latin chants even though I never understood the language;
they just communicated the sacred.
Those
images seemed to exorcize the military fantasy out of me in a flash. I imagined
myself in white soutane with the cape flying about in careless abandon to the
whims of the breeze. “What is the name of the school?” I asked my mother.
“St Joseph’s
Minor Seminary, Zaria,” she answered, happy I was liking the idea. “The
entrance forms are out, I’ll pick one for you tomorrow when we go for choir
practice.” I had been a choir boy all my life; a church boy. That was in 1984.
On
the 15th of September, 1985, I, along with other freshers, resumed Form I at SJS, as we
would call the school. The school was sparsely built: the academic block which
housed the five classrooms, the Staff Room, the Vice Rector’s office, and the
small Chapel the size the classrooms; then two hostel blocks of thirteen
dormitories named after saints, each of which housed about ten students. The
entire population of the school was 125. Each class was one arm then.
The
very next morning, we assembled in the Chapel for the term’s opening Mass and the
choir prefect, now Fr Joachim Makama, intoned the hymn “Here I am Lord, Is it I
Lord? I have heard You calling in the night; I will go Lord, if You Lead me; I
will hold Your people in my heart…” and I thought to myself, “this thing is
serious business.”
A
minor seminary is a secondary school but with Catholic formation and discipline
to prepare lads for a vocation into the Catholic priesthood. St Joseph’s Minor
Seminary, Zaria, was established in January 1964 by Archbishop John McCarthy,
then archbishop of Kaduna, to serve the vocations grooming needs of the diocese
and beyond. The founding Rector was Fr Joseph Hughes. Unlike its neighbor, St
Enda’s Teachers College, Bassawa-Zaria (now FGGC Zaria, having been Bassawa
Teachers College until 1988), St Joseph’s managed to escape the 1973 government
take-over of mission schools because of its special niche. The two schools had
used the same major chapel, St Enda’s Chapel.
School
fees were a hundred naira per term then. My parents only managed sixty or so
naira upon my resumption with a promise to make up the rest as the term went
on. The amount would remain so until we graduated. Even at the time, that
amount was not enough for tuition and feeding. Teachers had to be paid; the
school had to be maintained. The Church struggled to supplement to keep the
school going. Little wonder that earlier, in 1978, the then Archbishop, Peter
Jatau, decided to phase out the school but for the passionate intervention of
poor catholic women, the Zumuntar Matan
Katolika, who offered to help in the feeding of the children. The
Archbishop reneged and the women taxed themselves and continued to feed the
children monthly, parish by parish. We will never forget them.
A
very sad event happened on March 11, 1987 when, at the outbreak of the famous
Kafanchan Riots in the old Kaduna state, Muslim arsonists burnt down the entire
school and the St Enda’s Chapel sparing only the Rev Frs’ house and the staff
quarters. Many churches, from Kaduna all the way to Katsina, were razed down in
a curious spontaneity on that one day. Graciously, no student was harmed,
thanks to the wisdom of good old Mr Patrick Dagun, our English Language
teacher, who prevented the older students from putting up any resistance. We
took refuge at the nearby Army Barracks in Bassawa. That crisis would mark the
beginning of religious crises in the north as a whole. We never knew.
The Seminary
formed us indeed. We were taught the value of work. St Benedict was always
drummed into our ears, “laborare est
orare,” (to work is to pray). We were taught the value of working for the
community above the self, which was why a student could be expelled for not
doing his morning duty while spared cutting classes or chapel. The thinking was
that cutting classes or chapel affected only you the offender while failing in
your morning duty affected the entire seminary community. It was a drill in the
virtue of service.
St
Joseph’s has also continued to maintain a sterling academic pedigree to this
day even in the face of the groveling educational standard today especially in northern
Nigeria. Apart from the many priests that it has produced, among whom are two
Bishops, George Dodo of Zaria and Mathew Kukah of Sokoto who himself was the
second Nigerian Rector of the school in 1980/1981, the school has produced a
vast many others who have excelled in their various fields of endeavour.
Tomorrow
we begin a two-day Golden Jubilee celebration which includes an Oldboys’
evening where Rev Dr Gerard Musa, a professor at the Catholic Institute of West
Africa, Port-Harcourt, will lecture on the topic “March 1987 and Interreligious
Dialogue in Northern Nigeria”. Fr Gerard is an indigene of Katsina State and
was a final year student in 1987 when the school was burnt down.
On
this occasion, we say to our Alma-Mater, no matter how worn out your breasts
are, your milk is still sweet. To the Church we say thank You!
BLUEPRINT Newspaper; Oct. 16, 2014
Wow This is so inspiring
ReplyDeleteI love my Almanac Mater
You are the best