by Manus Nunan
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Northern Nigeria was slow to accept political change. The result was that the Colonial
Service lingered on well after independence in 1960. One of the personalities of
that part of Africa was Major O'Driscoll. The family were said to be eminent in the
upper reaches of the Knights of Malta. Those heights were strictly confined to those of
eminent Roman Catholic families who could prove beyond doubt both their nobility and
their devotion to the Church over many generations. O'Driscoll had taken a medical
degree at Trinity College, Dublin. He had never practised. His connections included
friendship with the Marquess of Sligo whose daughter was married to the Governor of
Bengal. Immediately after graduation O'Driscoll sailed for India, obtained a commission
in the Indian Army and was appointed ADC to the Governor of Bengal. The Governor
had four ADCs and lived in a style which is now beyond imagination. The Prince of
Wales (who was later to become Edward VIII) on a trip to India stayed with the Governor
and during the course of dinner said that he now knew how it felt to live like a king!
O'Driscoll attained the rank of Major in India and on Indian independence was appointed
to the medical department in Nigeria on the administrative side. He retained his military
title and never allowed himself to be referred to as 'Doctor' which he considered to be
associated with nasty, sick, unhealthy things.
On his first leave from Nigeria he called on Pope Pius XII. O'Driscoll never had
difficulties with introductions. The Pope greeted him with the words: "This is most
strange. Here is an Irishman from the Indian Army serving in Nigeria. What a wonderful
country is this England of ours". He served in Kaduna the capital of Northern Nigeria
while I was there. As a man he was out of the ordinary. He was a bachelor, bright and
cheerful and a good talker with a strong southern Irish accent. He would have been the
life and soul of a party if there had been a party. The trouble was that outside his office
he lived in total seclusion. The only invitations he accepted were to Government House.
The invitations of the Governor as the Queen's representative were in the nature of Royal
Commands. I had the distinct impression that this jovial Irishman secretly regarded all of
us as his social inferiors. He was, I suppose, quite right, but to ignore us all in that way
was a bit extreme. There was also the question of his wealth, which set him apart. He
was immensely wealthy and it was a mystery to everyone why he bothered to work at
all. He possessed two modern Rolls Royce motor cars. When he drove around Kaduna
everyone thought it was the Governor approaching and got out of the way. The only times
I met him were at Government House drinks parties. My wife at the time was French
and he took to her immediately and chatted to her in perfect and fluent French. To me
he seemed delightful company. On one occasion at Government House he was with a
circle of officials including myself, and was being particularly charming. The influence of
alcohol made me brave and I invited him to come back with my wife and myself to supper.
When I issued the invitation you could hear a pin drop. Everyone present knew of his
unwillingness to accept invitations to private houses and most of them shared my suspicion
why. There was a pause, a distinct pause, before he refused. People often mentioned the
pause and my own social standing gained greatly from such gracious hesitation. A few years later when we had all left Nigeria and he had a residence in Monte Carlo I met him
in Grafton Street in Dublin. He enquired about my wife and I told him that we were
no longer together and that she was now an undergraduate at Liverpool University. He
looked at me with total incredulity. The idea of one of his friends attending a provincial
university seemed difficult for him to take in. He then started to laugh uncontrollably. My
last memory of him is waving his arms and shaking with mirth as he made his way towards
College Green.
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