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.”

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