Friday, February 24, 2012

Edi Lawani… The making of a showbiz guru


When you meet Edi Lawani for the first time, especially if you are a stranger in the showbiz circuit, chances are that you would definitely try stealing a second look at him. He has this strange identity that keeps many wondering exactly what he represents. But with the rosary always hanging round his neck, you begin to feel, maybe, it’s not exactly what people think. Before now, I’d only seen Edi from afar at major events, clutching multiple walkie-talkies and constantly dishing out instructions to his men. No matter the size of the crowd, he is usually very visible; his beards and shorts give him away easily. So, had a brief to engage him, I decided to dig deep into this enigmatic personage. As usual, Edi appeared in his trademark –– a pair of shorts, t-shirts and a pair of sandals to match. “For the kind of job I do, why would I wear a jacket to a production ground? I’m on the road every time. I pay more attention to being good at what I do. Once you excel in what you do, people can live with every other thing,” he said.
So, it’s not about who you are?
“It’s about what do I mean to you; have I let you down in any assignment? Would you rather wear a jacket and mess up the whole show? Anywhere I go, even in Europe, I wear my pair of sandals and shots,” he said confidently.
Though, he belongs to the league of personalities that shaped the face of showbiz in Nigeria, Edi’s childhood dream was actually to become a Catholic priest. For him, life is all about service to humanity.
“As a priest, you are going to live and die poor; you don’t own any property, you don’t have children. When you die, you are buried where the church wants you to be buried. So, basically, there’s nothing you hold dearly materially.”
So, what happened to that dream?
“I gave up when I was in the University; it was something that stayed long. I discovered I didn’t have that calling, but it was something I considered seriously.”
From being a priest, young Edi started nursing the idea of becoming a medical doctor with a difference.
“Not the way it is practised today; you don’t have money, you don’t get treated. I considered medicine in the area of service; seeking cure for ailments and do the best you can do for mankind,” he said.
Just as his parents were beginning to hope for a medical doctor son, Edi came up with the weird idea of joining the military.
“I thought of being a soldier. Again, if you look at it in the practical sense, it means I’m leaving my family, ready to go fight a war and die for others. As a soldier, while people are hiding in their homes, you are at the warfront trying to defend them and you can lose your life in the process.”
Of all these career options that crossed his mind, Edi strongly believe there was an altruistic sentiment behind them.
“There was nothing about profit and making money, it was more about something to be done; you wanted to be able to do it and it doesn’t matter if anybody knows. My zodiac sign is Virgo and one of the traits of people born under the zodiac sign is that they are perfectionists. Secondly, they are mostly like kingmakers rather than kings themselves.”
EDI’S interest in entertainment started back in his village, when he bought a small transistor radio. In those days, he would stay awake all through the night, listening to music.
“I listened to the radio like an addict,” he quipped. There was no FM then, only short wave. So, you get to listen to stations as far as Russia, Gabon and the Cameroon and others.”
In the village, there was no electric power, but young Edi would always find means of keeping his radio on.
“Because I had no money to buy batteries, I went around the neighbourhood and gathered used batteries. I would collect like 20 batteries and soak them in water overnight with a lot of salt; maybe that charges it. I don’t know where I got it from, but somebody said it works. At the end, I would connect them with wire to my radio, just to stay up all night and listen to music. Whenever I listened to music, I would like to know the producer, the drummer, etc. There was no Internet; I usually go to record shops to check them out. I didn’t just listen to music, I tried to understand the album; in those days, DJs used to give out such information,” he enthused.
After his secondary education in Benin, Edo State, Edi moved to Lagos where he lived with his uncle, Mike Ukana, who actually exposed him to the workings of a radio station.
“He used to work with the Voice of Nigeria (VON), so, I used to hang out with him a lot. I would go with him to radio station to see what they were doing. I just liked the fact that there’s an audience out there that you don’t see, but you are working day and night to give some values to them; I used to bury myself in the gramophone library then.”
From being an observer, his curiosity landed him a casual role in the station.
“I used to help them unofficially to draw a list of the records they were going to play on air; the same list they used to pay royalties. That time, you don’t just go on air; you must prepare a lesson note on how to talk to your audience. Then I got involved with radio production; sometimes I did voiceover. At a point, I was taking part in radio drama; I was doing a kind of freelance with them,” he said.
As at the time Edi resolved to further his education, his mind was actually on studying Law, but a Rev. Father friend, who had watched him closely, came up with a different career.
“I was to study law, but I switched to study English and Literary studies. Again, a Rev. Father friend of mine influenced that decision. His name was Rev. Father John Ubah, a radical priest; he used to roll with people like Fela and Thomas Sankara, but he was a priest. He said to me that while growing up, I used to do a lot of writings as a kid, which he used to read, ‘you have a natural flair for the creative arts, what are you going to do in Law?’ So, when I got into school, I changed from Law to English and Literary Studies, which I don’t regret.”
Are you a Catholic?
“Yes, I am; my parents are Anglicans, but we, their children, are all Catholics.”

How did it happen?
“My father had a friend, who was like his boss. That time, my father didn’t have a car and the Catholic Church was closer to us. So, he used to ask us to follow our neighbour to Catholic Church, while he went to the Anglican Church with my mother; that’s how we grew up as Catholics,” he recalled.

HAVING lived in Lagos, moving into the Bendel State University (now Ambrose Ali University) became a boring experience for the ever-active Edi.
“It was a different terrain. I was involved in a lot of things — from drama to sports, but because I found the school boring, I started doing discos and beauty pageants. I used to get fellow students to invest their school fees in my shows.”
Those days, Edi would sweet-talk fellow students into investing their school fees in a show, with the hope of getting their money with interest after the event.
“I had to cook up logic that, ‘if you pay your school fees at the beginning of the session, you gain nothing; as far as I’m concerned, from an investment point of view, that was a waste. The school allows you to owe and pay not later than two weeks to the start of the exam, so, why should we pay our school fees two and half months before exam when we could wait and pay two weeks before exams? So, ‘if you bring your school fees and we do this show, we are going to make money from it. The school charges you late payment of like one per cent, we can turn the money and make 100 per cent profit and pay the school from there.’ Some of them bought into that logic and I said, let’s go with it.”
Did it actually work?
“On few occasions, it worked. But there was one time rain fell; the boys, who contributed their school fees to the experiment, were stuck. Two weeks to the exam, they were all crying and shouting that it was not supposed to be an investment; they wanted their money back. I was in a fix, again, we didn’t have a contract; it was a gentleman’s agreement.”
To save his head, Edi had to travel home to source for the money. Once again, he had his trick.
“I convinced my father to give me my school fees for the next semester; I must have told him some stories. Somehow, I managed to find a way to return the monies to the two guys involved and I was still able to pay my school fees. That was a bitter lesson that taught me about the benefits of doing things right and doing contracts. It also taught me that when the going is good, everybody wants to get involved, but nobody wants to take any risk. That has guided me till today.”

While in school, Edi took interest in video recording, when a fellow student brought his brother’s video camera to school.

“His name is Iso Mark Barango; I begged him to teach me how to operate the camera. Before that, I had been going with him to small occasions; I started by helping him carry the flashlight. Then, it was a halogen lamp, which you put on a very hot pipe; the cables were not good, so in between the party, you are getting electric shocks. But I lived through all of that.”

Immediately he gained the basic knowledge of video recording, Edi took the act to another level. Before you knew it, he commercialised the hobby, making little money from fellow students.

“I would take the camera into the bush to film stuffs; I was mastering how to use it. When students want to do their parties, I would go to town and hire a camera, buy fairly used tapes, wipe them and record with it. The person doing the party had paid me, but then, there were some girls I didn’t like in school. To punish them, throughout the filming, I won’t show them and they were mad,” he said laughing.

“I would now sent my friend to them to tell them that if they wanted to show well, they should drop something. I also started selling commercial slots, where people sent goodwill messages. It’s just about being creative with what you are doing to make money.”



SO, from this kind of background coming out of school, it was pretty sorted what he wanted to do –– entertainment. However, Edi insisted on being behind the camera.

“I’ve always wanted to be at the back and getting things done. I said to myself, instead of complaining, why not show people how to get things done. So, I decided to stay off the camera.”

However, when he left school, job unemployment was just beginning to build up. So, Edi opted for a career in journalism. With the background in radio and an unofficial experience in video, he felt all he need was an exposure in print medium.

“I got a job with Punch Newspaper, but I didn’t stay long. I was to be employed as a staff writer, but somebody resigned in the proofreading room a day before I came and I was seconded there. I actually wanted to write, but they said I was doing well in proofreading. Along the line, I got frustrated and I left.”

Out of Punch Newspaper, Edi went about searching for new publication to work with. Money aside, Edi just wanted to be part of building a new brand.

“It wasn’t about money; I just wanted to have the experience and understand how things work. I worked with a lot of papers, but along the line, Sonala Olumhense came out with City Tempo; I had the opportunity of working with people like Maxim Uzoatu and the present governor of Ekiti, Kayode Fayemi.”

It was along the line of working with different newspapers that Edi met Tony Okoroji, then PMAN president. Okoroji saw the sparks in him and advised that he paid more attention to the entertainment industry.

“I had an interview with him and ran the story; we became friends. They later inducted me into the committee that organised the Nigerian Music Award (NMA) for a couple of years. After a while, I went back to University of Lagos to do my postgraduate studies in Mass Communication; that was when Tony Momoh, the then Minister of Information, was threatening that if you don’t have a qualification in Mass Communication, you won’t be allowed to practice.”

While doing his postgraduate studies, Edi was participating in the NMA with the likes of Patrick Doyle, Femi Akintunde Johnson, Mayor Akinpelu and others.

“Okoroji and I kept engaging and he kept saying, ‘you want to be a journalist, it’s not likely you will be greater than Dele Giwa anyway, or another Ray Ekpu; you will just be part of the boys. But you have a chance to contribute to growing music industry in terms of the structures.’ I promised him that I would work with PMAN for a year after when I left school.”



BY the time he rounded off his programme, Edi had job offers from some publishing companies, which he turned down.

“I had given Okoroji my word; I was with PMAN for slightly over a year; I did all I could do and left after sometime.”

While with PMAN, Edi had to deal with a lot of issues on the business side of the show. So, by the time he left PMAN, musicians, who benefited from his services still wanted to keep the relationship.

“They came with one problem or the other; I realised there was the need to fill up that section of the entertainment industry. Basically, the industry wasn’t properly structured; the artistes didn’t really understand contracts, they just wanted to be on TV.”

Determined to help salvage the situation, Edi rented a little office in Ikeja, where he consults for artistes, most times, free of charge.

“It was actually a store and kitchen of an old fashion room. I converted it to an office; it used to be very hot. Every Wednesday, I did free consulting for artistes; my office became a platform for solving problems. However, I was getting thinner, my head was getting bigger than my body; I was starving. People loved what I was doing, but I had to find a way to sustain myself.”

He continued: “I found out that some artistes just come to waste your time; you tell them what to do, they do a different thing all together. So, I said ‘from now on, if anybody wants my services, you have to register.’ People come from as far as Calabar to find solution and advice. Some of them didn’t even have a place to sleep; I fed them, my aunty ran a restaurant across the street, so, I used to sign papers for them to go and eat there and I found a way of paying later,” he recalled.

For those who did not have money, but were committed, “we found a way to help them. Along the line, we had some of them on full management. We also had some on part time basis; people like Ras Kimono, Blacky, Daniel Wilson, Alex Zitto, Issac Black and others. Later, we started managing bookings for artistes; at a time, I was booking for almost 70 per cent of the industry. As at that time, we had started making small money.”

Just as it appeared he had found his rhythm, another need came up.

“Then, you took artistes to concert after weeks of rehearsing, yet you left the stage almost crying; you couldn’t hear the drums, the sound was bad … it was like all our rehearsals were in vain. So, we started making effort to fix the sound and things like that. In doing that, I started learning about production. I used to go backstage to help sort out production problems. As the artistes were turning to big boys, I decided to get into stage management, then technical production, event management and event production; it was always borne out of the need to bridge a gap.”

Camera fill circle…
FROM that humble beginning, Edi Lawani and Associate has become the powerhouse of events management in the country. From banks to telecommunications, his outfit remains a force to reckon with; his presence is a sort of endorsement for any event.

“When we started, it wasn’t glamorous; we kept running under the rain in the venue, just to be sure that every section came together. People came to enjoy show and go, then you stayed behind to pack thing; you were not even seen. Gradually, we started raising the standard; I also had the opportunity of working with some production outfits that came from abroad and we learnt a lot from them. That’s how we got to where we are today.”

On how he managed to worm himself to the frontseat of events management in the country, Edi noted, “I’ve never done an advert in this business; word of mouth is what has kept us where we are today. Because of the jobs we did for people, they started recommending us and before you know it; we became very popular among events organisers. People also became conscious of the quality of job they were getting. So, we did a whole lot to sort out issues like that and people started noticing what we were doing.”

Right now, topmost in Edi’s agenda is to train the younger generation in the business. To him, that’s the best way to secure the future for the industry.
“Over the years, a lot of people have come to work with me and I encouraged them to start up; some of them, I even paid for the registration of their companies. For me, we need to encourage young people to serve this industry; there has to be many Edi Lawanis.”

By his assessment, there has been tremendous improvement in the business.
“It is growing; from where we were coming from, the industry is growing. In the past, it was almost an insult to be called a stage manager; you are the one to carry musical instruments on stage and clearing equipment. Being on stage in pair of shorts, giving artistes towels and carrying musical instruments … it wasn’t the most glamorous job, but the most important on the night. Now, a lot of people have started thinking about bringing value to the industry; at the end, we are like an insurance for events.”
Edi may have encountered many challenges in the industry, but the horrible experience during the Rothmans Mega Groove, held at the Tafawa Balewa Square, Lagos in 1997, is still memorable.
“You are having a show, suddenly it starts raining, people are standing in the water, equipments are soaked, the stage is threatening to collapse, speakers are flying and dropping, you are dealing with the hazard of people getting electrocuted; and wires are buried under the water. You are silently praying for people to start going home, so, you can shut down. Two hours after, they are still there; they want to see the show. Every decision you take rested on what you do right or wrong in time of the crises. We were able to salvage the show; we survived and it became a sort of turning point.
How do you cope with the job and taking care of your family?

“The good thing about it is that, I met my wife when I was in the middle of all this madness. Luckily for me, she met me doing this and understands very well what it entails.”
Do you find time to relax?
“I’m looking forward to the day I would hang my legs up and rest without thinking about jobs. It’s something I really want to do, as I’m getting older by the day. Maybe  when I leave the job.”

 http://www.guardiannewsngr.com

1 comment:

  1. My great mentor since I was 12 years old.I would be glad to meet him by hand.Bless up sir!

    ReplyDelete