Showing posts with label Ngozi Achebe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ngozi Achebe. Show all posts

Thursday, March 28, 2013

Ode Mkpishi Chinua Achebe (1930-2013): Our Literary Hero Exits


Richard von Weizaecker (L), former German President, congratulates Nigerian author Chinua Achebe, after Achebe was awarded the prestigious Peace Prize of the German publishing industry at the Paul's Church in Frankfurt/Main, 13 October 2002. With the peace prize he was honored as 'one of the most forceful and at the same time most subtle voices of Africa in 20th century literature'. Image: Frank May/DPA

Chinelo, Nwando, Ikechukwu and Chidi. Ngozi. The entire Achebe family. Ndo nu o!

I had engaged my friend, Dr. Elemi John Agbomi in series of our usual intellectual discourses on a fabricated national state, who never stops telling me stories of his encounter and combat during the Nigeria-Biafra war; who is fond of talking about Ode Mkpishi Chinua Achebe's "Things Fall Apart" and how "they" all got into it during his high school years at Government College, Afikpo, in the 60s; and who has been a very good friend over the years before dabbling into the social media on Friday, March 22, 2013, to read the widespread news that Ode Mkpishi Achebe is gone.


Much is known and has already been written about Africa's literary giant Ode Mkpishi Achebe who died Thursday night, March 21, 2013 in Boston at the age of 82. Much has been said about the man known to have reshaped the African literary landscape. And people have overwhelmingly given the literary icon lots of tribute. All major newspapers wrote a tribute to the literary icon whose novel "Things Fall Apart" is now in over 50 languages.

I was not sure if there was any more stuff one could pick from Achebe's stables since his last book "Anthills of the Savannah" published in 1987, depicting the West African country of Kangan until my colleague at the BNW News Magazine told me the Chinua Achebe Colloquium Projects would commence publishing at the site and its sister links, as the directors of the projects would be forwarding every episode in order to reach its desired audiences and readers. Yes, all the interviews conducted by journalists and folks Ode Mkpishi Achebe had assigned for the interviews including the symposiums and related articles that came along with it, begun the awareness for me that Ode Mkpishi Achebe still got game and has been on the radar to stay on with his ideals by way of network to finding solution on a case load of problems within the African continent.

As it turned out, the colloquium was held annually to bring together scholars, leaders and folks from all walks of life to exchange ideas on "strengthening democracy and peace" all around the African continent.

I had begun penning what may have been some of the reasons why the Nobel Academy had kept Achebe waiting for its grand prize in Literature until one of those out of the blue got to take care of projects halted it. I had intended publishing it before what we are now hearing that the storyteller who was fond of recalling societal ills in Nigeria is gone.

The Nobel had become for Achebe what the Biafran War had been for some not heard of names that battled until Biafra surrendered and yet nobody mentioned their names in the books on how gallantly they committed their lives towards the realism of a Biafran national state.

Like the plot from "Anthills of the Savannah," which in my opinion was second closest to "Things Fall Apart" if Nobel had decided to honoring Achebe's work in literature. Achebe, here, describes the political situation through the experiences of three friends who had been in collaboration and the assassination of an editor critical of a regime. The trend of coup after coup and assassinations that is the trademark of military juntas.

I'm sure no one who had known Achebe would doubt that the brilliant, proud, ultra-competitive and astoundingly a great writer had wished many things had worked out in his lifetime based on his lamentations of Nigeria's social ills, coupled with the most corrupt state in practice. He also would have loved to win the prize that no Nigerian novelist has won since Wole Soyinka in 1986. He also would have loved a successful leadership on the African continent, especially in his native Igbo land where the current crop of leaders have not learned from the previous leaders, from their brilliant successes and their disastrous mistakes in transforming organizations and communities, setting examples by communal leads, by ethical imperatives and by willing to take risks.

Achebe was one of a kind. His books called the shots.

Amazing thoughts. A beautiful mind.

The Chinua Achebe Colloquium defined him. In finding how the colloquium had been measuring up and doing what it was suppose to be doing by its standards, I interviewed his son Chidi, who practices medicine out of Boston and who is also the President and CEO of the Harvard Street Health Center regarding his dad's projects and whether it's still vibrant. Chidi Achebe responds:

It is going very well. A former United States ambassador to Nigeria described the annual gathering as “the best intellectual gathering focusing on Africa in the world.” The annual colloquium brings together an international group of scholars, officials from African governments, the United Nations, the United States, the European Union, and other organizations for two days of intense deliberation and exchange of ideas on the importance of strengthening democracy and peace on the African continent.

We all read him while growing up, and continued to read him when we became who we now are, and, still reading him. He was master storyteller. He was intelligent. He was proud. He was an enigmatic literary giant.

He was untra-competitive and unquestionably self-absorbed human being and author.

Okonkwo, the typical Igbo man and pigheadedness in "Things Fall Apart."

His Excellency, Chris Oriko, Beatrice Okoh, Ikem Osodi, Elewa, Major Ossai in "Anthills of the Savannah."

He wrote numerous books and authored uncountable articles -- "Winds of Change: Modern Short Stories From Black Africa," "How The Leopard Got His Claws," "Hopes And Impediments," "Home And Exile," "The Trouble With Nigeria," "Morning Yet On Creation Day," "Beware Soul Brother," "Girls At War And Other Stories," "Arrow Of God," "A Man Of The People," "Chike And The River," "No Longer At ease," "The Sacrificial Egg And Other Stories," "Anthills Of The Savannah," "Things Fall Apart," "The Education Of A British Protected Child: Essays," and as the list goes on and on, and on -- in which most recalled the social ills of a continent, his country and in particular, his native Igbo land, Achebe never stopped writing with sustained accuracy regarding a  continent's woes and never ending tragedy.

Achebe was fun to read; storytelling that was baked in his genes, ingrained and plausible no amount of detox could remove. It got us all hooked.

He had his pen and he used it very well to the point military drunks obsessed with dictatorial tendencies came after him to find out which had more firepower -- his pen or the guns of the juntas.

He wrote fearlessly and took no prisoners, presenting to his readers the simple truth on what had erupted as national crisis when bribery and corruption had taken the place of what supposedly should have been a transparent and accountable government in a democratic fabric.

He wrote extensively to near exhaustion on problems grand and small which had overwhelmingly clouded a country full of leaders of mischief in what is called Nigeria.

He will be missed!




Africa's phenomenal intellectuals Ali Mazrui (L) and Chinua Achebe share jokes at the Chinua Achebe Colloquium at Brown University in Rhodes Island. The colloquium is held annually to bring together scholars and officials to exchange ideas on strenghtening democracy and peace on the African continent. Image: Brown University.



Chinua Achebe chats with former South African President Nelson Mandela at a Steve Biko memorial ceremony in Cape Town on the 25th anniversary of the activists death in police custody, September 12, 2002. Biko, a leader of the Black Conciousness movement, died after being beaten by members of Apartheid's security police in 1977.  Image: Mile Hutchings/Reuters



 

Chinua Achebe participates in the PEN World Voices Festival of International Literature.  Location: New York. Date: April 26, 2006. Image: Beowulf Sheehan/PEN American Center/ZUMA Press





Chinua Achebe, famous for his novels describing the effects of Western customs and values on traditional African society. Achebe's satire and his keen ear for spoken language  made him one of the most highly esteemed African writers in English. Location: London, UK. Date: May 21, 1970. Image: Keystone Pictures, USA



Chinua Achebe speaks about his works and his life at his home on the campus of Bard College in Annandale-on-Hudson, New York where he is a professor. Date: January 22, 2008. Image: Craig Ruttle/Associated Press


Friday, October 26, 2012

Weep, Beloved Nigeria: Three Contemporary Nigerian Writers On A Theme


THE GUARDIAN NIGERIA




WRITERS are like town criers. And between the year 2000 and 2011, Nigerian creative writers have worriedly depicted the downward slide to criminality in the Nigerian polity. At the turn of the century, writers like Maik Nwosu (Alpha Song, 2001), Omo Uwaifo, (Fattening House, 2001), Wale Okediran (Dreams, Die at Twilight, 2001), Fola Arthur-Worrey (The Diaries of Mr. Michael, 2003), Chim Newton (Under the Cherty Tree, 2003), and Toni Kan Onwordi (Ballad of Rage, 2004), have shown Nigeria as a nation adrift. The writers listed above are discussed by this writer as “fleshly” (1), lamenting that Nigeria, after military rule has become a nation without a soul, a rudderless nation that had emerged from military dictatorship, into the raging fire of corruption, prostitution, debauchery, and mindless hedonism.

Within the same decade, another set of writers, as if on cue, began to scream at the level of moral decadence into which Nigeria had fallen in so short a time. They concentrated on seemingly new crimes which just reared their ugly heads, as if the engagements of the “fleshly” school of writers were mere dress rehearsals to new crimes that just emerged: kidnapping, ritual killings, selling of body parts, and human trafficking. Writers who have especially written on human trafficking are:

(a) Chris Abani: Becoming Abigail (2006)

(b) Jude Dibia: Unbridled (2007)

(c) Akachi Adimora-Ezeigbo: Trafficked, (2008)

(d) Tony Alum: Images From A Broken Mirror (2008)

(e) Chinedu Anyaso: My Daughters’ Trouble (2009)

Now, “Three Nigerian writers on a Theme” which is the subject of this paper are: Chika Unigwe: On Black Sisters’ Street (2009) (2) Ngozi Achebe: Onaedo, the Blacksmith’s Daughter (2010) (3) and Olusola Olugbesan: Only a canvas (201. Strangely what unites these three writes is their united pursuit of the theme of human trafficking and prostitution abroad by our women involving all other collateral crimes including murder and the international slave trade, plus general insecurity within the Nigerian polity which these crimes engender.

We may begin with Olusola Olugbesan’s Only A Canvas, without forgetting the general theme of this study which concerns the unhappy events in the Nigerian polity: corruption, prostitution and human trafficking. Only A Canvas opens on an isolated rural environment, segregated because they are Osu, with Eze and a local wrestling champion, Joe, with his 3 wives (Nneka, Ifeoma and including Ngozi), Amaka his daughter, plus a devious friend, Obi. On the non-appearance of Okafor for the wrestling championship, Joe became triple champion. Amaka met Jane who gave her chocolate bars, and Edgar, a photojournalist was there.

Only A Canvas while decrying the rot in the Nigerian society is written in the thriller tradition. The setting is “romantic” in its remoteness, an isolated Osu society segregated from other communities. As in the true thriller tradition, there is plenty of adventure, crime and criminals, cop and robber chase, a serious manhunt, sensational and action-packed scenes, law agents and criminals on the run. In a thriller, there is a happy ending, engineered by the victory of the hero (the good character) over the villain.

Only A Canvas in addition to reading like a thriller also reads like a fairy tale where Amaka, the protagonist, is Cinderella the Enchanted Princess who, in the end, does not marry Tom Bridge, the Prince Charming. If read like a fairytale, Mrs. Anna Bridge becomes the fairy godmother who not only protects Amaka but provides her with a magic wand - travel, education - all enabling her to excel and ride unscathed, to freedom and wealth, In a fairytale world, Amaka is a waif besieged by Obi, the ogre and demon- king. Amaka’s father, the wrestling champion becomes the culture-hero who in the end overcomes the machinations of the demon-king. As in fairytales, those who are good are so good they have no faults, and those who are bad have no redeeming features. Mrs. Anna Bridge, Amaka’s fairy godmother, is so good, but her husband Donald, ever corrupt and ever womanizing, has no redeeming features. Other good characters like the Eze of Umuise, police officers Nasir and Danladi are painted as saints. While police officer Bama (who rapes women in his office) and Mama T., end disastrously.

In spite of everything, Olusola Olugbesan on the evil-infested, corrupt-ridden polity called Nigeria that accommodates human traffickers like Obi, corrupt officers like the DCO in the Kano office, and devious white men like Donald Bridge. Although the story of Amaka ends on a happy note, Only a Canvas is not a happy novel, considering the criminal and human trafficking activities of captain Obi and his marauding gang.

Chika Unigwe’s On Black Sisters Street is set mainly in Europe (Antwerp, Belgium) to be precise. It reflects unhappily the fears, exploitation, shame, murder, humiliation of being a prostitute in Europe. But the major issue is what pushes Nigerian women to Europe for prostitution: personal ambition? Problems with joblessness in Nigeria? Limited opportunities? The answer may be: all of these.

Chika Unigwe’s On Black Sisters Street is a story of four mature women (Ama, Joyce, Efe, Sisi) who willingly trafficked themselves to Europe under the aegis of a one man criminal syndicate headed by Mr. Dele. Although these women were not forced, the fundamental issue is why each agreed to go abroad. The reason is that Nigeria failed them as a country to fulfil their dreams, and negates their longings to live a self-fulfilling life. But irony is the weapon used by the author to mock their ambitions. Chisom (Sisi) the most ambitious, with big dreams about the future because she is a graduate, is the most frustrated. She is murdered, not by racist Belgians, but by her own fellow Nigerian, Segun. Her death leaves everyone weak because of its seeming senselessness, at a point she was about to achieve her aim through marriage to Luc, a Belgian banker, Her murder has the implications of a double tragedy for she was an only child through whom her parents hoped to achieve the dreams of their frustrated lives: buy a car, own a house. Of the four prostitutes under madam’s control in Antwerp, Sisi reluctantly submitted to prostitution, a humiliating criminal way to make it to wealth and influence.

Irony skirts Sisi’s dreams for she never realizes any of the castles she built in the air:

She would work for a few years, keep her eyes on the prize, earn enough to pay back what she owed Dele, and then open up her own business. She would resurrect as Chisom, buy a house in Victoria Garden City. Marry a man who would give her beautiful children. And her beautiful children would go to private schools. She would have three house girls, a gardener, a driver, a cook. Her life would be nothing compared to what it was now. And nothing compared to her parents’. (pp. 102- 103).

Ama, who was violated at the age of eight by her step-father confessed: “you know what Joyce? I made this choice. I came here with my eyes wide open” (p. 114).

On Black Sisters Street is not a happy book. Its central theme is frustration. The four girls: Sisi, Ama, Joyce and Efe left Nigeria out of frustration and incipient despair. Sisi is frustrated because Nigeria could not offer her opportunities for a self-fulfilling job after a degree in Banking and Finance. She is further frustrated because she could not lighten the burden of her parents’ dreams since her joblessness compounded the frustrations of her parents. Ama’s frustration stemmed from the fake existence in her parents’ house. Her mother who was hailed by her husband Brother Cyril, as an angel and a virgin had actually come to Brother Cyril with a pregnancy that they had covered up. Brother Cyril, a sanctimonious “Man of God” in white, raped Ama at eight and when she later confronted him, to further cover up their fake existence forced Ama out of their house, to live with Mama Eko from where Ama escaped to Antwerp through the services of Dele.

Ngozi Achebe’s Onaedo, the Blacksmith’s Daughter joins Chika Unigwe and Olusola Olugbesan in expanding the imaginative terrain of African literature. This writer in an earlier study had accused African soil, while European writers imaginatively invade other continents. It has cited EM Forster’s A Passage to India and Conrad’s Heart of Darkness as examples. The three writers under discussion have each extended their stories to Brazil and America (Ngozi Achebe); Antwerp, Belgium (Chika Unigwe); and London, England (Olusola Olugbesan). They collectively give readers the impression that Nigerian literature is still evolving.

Ngozi Achebe’s Onaedo, the Blacksmith’s Daughter still harps on the unhappy theme of human rights abuses within the Nigerian soil as it touches on the vexed issue of the beginnings of the trans-Atlantic slave trade especially to Sao Tome and Brazil. Historians have graphically described the trans-Atlantic slave trade as an unhappy episode in our history. But Ngozi Achebe’s Onaedo, the Blacksmith’s Daughter is historically important by giving us rare insights into how criminal-minded Portuguese merchants, Alvarez and Pasquale, using criminal-minded natives, Ideheno and his comrade-in-crime, Oguebie, hounded out fellow citizens, and captured them, under the guise of working in the white man’s farm.

Through flashbacks the reader is given insights into a slave outpost in Sao Tome, a halfway house for the trans-Atlantic slave trade. Life in Sao Tome is shown to be depraved and degraded both for the slaves and for the white slave holders. Diego da Silva, owner of the plantation in Sao Tome is shown to be debauched, depraved, and immoral, with his several wives, mistresses, and slaves. Diego sleeps with his female slaves at will, is an inveterate gambler and alcoholic. Although there were initial moral qualms among the white slave traders, this was brushed aside. When Pasquale objected to brutally capturing fellow men as slaves, Alvarez reassures him: you have to trust me. Slave trading is a business like any other. The only difference is we’re transporting workers instead of goods”.

The story of Onaedo is that the quest and struggle for freedom is an unending and eternal one. In the end Onaedo in spite of mind-numbing suffering and tribulations regains her freedom as well as the freedom of her three children, born under slavery.

In sum, these three authors, writing about prostitution, slavery, human rights abuses and all kinds of insecurity in the Nigerian polity give readers cause for worry. That about all the writers mentioned in this study, writers writing in the first decade of the 21st century harp on the same unhappy themes should alarm the Nigerian government. And it is indeed alarmed, having in recent years established the National Agency for the Prohibition of Trafficking in Persons (NAPTIP), committed to rescuing Nigerian women engaged in prostitution abroad. How much energy it commits to this alarming pandemic remains to be seen.

Charles E. Nnolim,

NOTES:

Charles F, Nnolim. “Contemporary Nigerian Fiction”. Issues in African Literature. (Yenagoa, Treasure Books, 2009).

Chika Unigwe. On Black Sisters’ Street (London: Vintage Books, 2009).

Ngozi Achebe. Onaedo, the Blacksmith‘s Daughter (Lagos: Mandac and Best Publishing, 2010).

Olusola Olugbesan. Only A Canvas (Ibadan; Mosuro Publishers, 2011).

Monday, January 02, 2012

2011 In The Books: My Cousin Daniel And All That Stuff



I was not sure what 2011 was to be, beginning on its first night when clearing all the stuff from my head became a major task. I had not made up my mind what I thought would conform with what I had to do in my literary errands and basically on the idea of attempting a book as had been suggested by many of my friends, colleagues and in particular, my die hard fan, my cousin Daniel, who had insisted he would stop listening to me since I have been ignoring a book call until a book pops out showcasing my works, even though I had argued with him insisting what he had been reading over the years from my literature could be the book in question.

But Daniel who wants a book out soon when I had insisted I am not in a hurry to put together a book of sort on which subject or topic, or title I’m yet to contemplate based on the surroundings that probably could facilitate what the title would suggest and how the project logically should make sense corresponding with the items that gives a book the right outlook as in its title and subtitles as the case may be, have not in his own opinion, based on what he thought from reading all my pieces, covering autobiography, biography, criticisms, drama, essays, fiction-poetry, journalism, interviews, documentaries, music analysis, fashion-modeling shows and book reviews; suggested a title, topic and subject to start working on; even if I may have made up my mind and concluded what area of titles, topics and subjects I should be targeting from whichever project that pops up.

Since I have written on a variety of subjects and covered a lot in my exchange of correspondences with friends, family members, well wishers, colleagues in the literary stock and several others from all walks of life, I had thought of a piecemeal take, and on the average, looked for public opinion by way of exploration and on the last call, after all options had been lost, locate Daniel’s ideals since he’d the one who “wants the book out now” rather than leaving crates of unpublished works for posterity.

On what to be expected with regards to my works out there which had been conceived at a time not much had been saved in my literary chest but stories of life’s endeavors growing up and becoming a man, studying and learning every aspect of our societal being. But Daniel wants something to be done real quick but with my own intellectual ambition and the love I have developed for writing, and the passion, I’m not in a hurry, thus working at my pace for the book release and not conformed to any deadline. I hope that works, Daniel.

On this book release stuff, Daniel seems to have been on my case, and I have just been wondering if Daniel wants a gig of our own bad self, pub-crawling the city, or the days two sisters lured us to the church Rev. Hartford Iloputaife was senior pastor, when our heads were still burning from the heavy metal-disco fever-pure funk-decorum rap years we had committed our lives to, not minding the consequences we knew would follow, and a time gone by. Or does Daniel want me to write about the days of the “melting pot” at Suya Spot, Caban Bamboo, Reggae Nights, and the push me, I push you movement when it became a daily hustle to the music at Astor? Maybe, he wants me to tell more stories of the blast when Ruth Ehirim, her brother and friends stormed that hell of a party jam during his visiting days in Los Angeles. There are more stories to tell than he could imagine, after all these years we evolved.

Daniel is now more of a philosopher, of the back years theory with “socio-capital” contract ideals, of which in our arguments I had talked about change, evolution, revolution and applications of different other methods demanded by change, not relying or bent on the status quo I had written off as archaic, backward thinking that never created any impact on the “new world” besides the dangerous politics that comes along with sex and money which I have always avoided.

And Daniel would confirm my attack on Igbo “elite” for not getting things done over the years, insisting the Igbo had at all times been far better off than her counterparts, the Yoruba-Hausa-Fulani stock, in every aspect of life since the fabricated nation’s founding. And, Daniel would agree with my consistent commentary and analysis what Igbo had on purpose ignored over the years after the post-civil war/”reconstruction-era” and supposedly lessons learned from the pogrom Igbos were massacred from every location they could be found

Daniel also agreed with me in what I have written extensively to near exhaustion; the tale of the anti-Igbo pogrom and evidences indicating that, and succumbing finally, “not sucking up to me,” but would concur to straightening up to the facts. Despite that, the book on the waiting list, the telltale would be the real and done deal with Daniel, when found sitting on the shelves in public and, graded with kind gesture from its long wait.

Daniel is waiting.

Having read too many books over the course of twelve months and reading uncountable newspapers, news-magazines and journal articles and texts in the same period, and having seen series of events all around the world one lives in, it shouldn’t take too much probing to elicit testimony that I have read myself to death and listing some of them makes it clearly so. I read Ngozi Achebe’s book “Onaedo: The Blacksmith’s Daughter,” Eeefy Ike’s “Peering Through The Depths Of Life,” and Alretha Thomas’ “Dancing Her Dreams Away.” Going through all the stacks of books I read this year, I found the following African-related books very interesting: Gray Stewart’s classic “Breakout: Profiles In African Rhythm” published in 1992 by the University of Chicago Press as part of my research projects, where the African cultural maestro touched every base of the musical genres that had augured well with African musicians tracing the link of the connections and how it developed, coupled with the formation of Monomono, on a cast of Johnny Haastrup, Ben Okulolo, percussionist Candido Obajimi, guitarist Jimmy Lee Adams and Friday Jumbo. Stewart’s book, “first on African music to examine in-depth” the musicians themselves was a good and fascinating read.

Believe it or not, I read Condoleeza Rice’s “No Higher Honor: A Memoir Of My Years In Washington,” a retelling of what we in the press and public in general have already known from George Bush and his policymakers’ years. I read “Liberia: America’s Footprint In Africa: Making The Cultural, Social, And Political Connections” by Jesse N. Mongrue, where discovering the rich history of Liberia and America, and why Liberia remains relevant today and enriched with interviews of scholars, Liberian community elders and detailed research; “Democracy’s Reconstruction: Thinking Politically With W.E.B. Du Bois” by Laurie Balfour on tales of Du Bois recommending words of his disciple, the Osagefo Dr. Kwame Nkrumah, saying for “political kingdom which must be sought first, one needed leaders with men and women, who could lead the struggle and expose;” “Life My Story: The Story Of A Girl’s Journey To Womanhood,” by Ebony E. Ferebee, in which Ferebee offers her victory over her own difficult, painful and abuse childhood as an example to offer young women, proving that it is possible to overcome your past and succeed as an adult; “And We Ate The Leopard: Serving In The Belgian Congo” by Margaret Baker-White of 1932, Dr. Lebia baker arrive at a mission hospital far up a tributary of the Congo River in Equator Province and Baker describing the unusual story of her family’s life in the Belgian Congo, and “Mirror Of Our Lives: Voices Of Four Igbo Women - Njide, Nneka, Miss Nelly and Oby - Narrate their stories of passion, deceit, heartache, and strength as they push through life, and each on a unique journey to attain happiness, self respect, and inner peace.

Also, on the list of my reading for pleasure and knowledge were, among others: “Zanzibar Kira Heri: Farewell Zanzibar” by Patricia K. Polewski, on the 1964 African revolt replacing the Arab Government - on Zanzibar and decreed that no unmarried woman could leave Zanzibar without paying 56,000 shillings; “Withches, Wife Beaters, And Whores: Common Law And Common Folk In Early America” by Elaine Forman Crane - Crane skilfully explores how deeply ingrained understandings of law and legal culture shaped the behavior of ordinary people in early America - whether the victims perpetrators, or neighbors; Kwame Anthony Appiah’s “The Honor Code: How Moral Revolutions happen,” and Appiah convingcingly points out, the ruling aristocracy was being superseded by a new class of economically successful men saying the popular press, working-class literacy, and democratic sentiments brought all British citizens into a unified community of shared knowledge and values; and “Dying Education: Necessary Reformation, The Nigerian case” by Alphonsus Emeka Ezeoke, stressing most of Nigerian schools are understaffed, especially schools located in remote towns and villages; that teachers shy away from going to remote or local towns and villages, and that the Nigerian nation must tap from its pluralism, and emphasize benefits therein.

Yes, Daniel is waiting on that book release. He do not want crates and boxes of papers somewhere archived for posterity. He wants it now.

I have collected a lot of materials - photographs covering a wide range of subjects, my own articles (published and unpublished), interviews, press releases, and several other related papers over the years, including correspondences I mentioned earlier, and I had thought the materials should be in shape enough for what Daniel had wanted me to do - “write a book” and nothing else. And as it did happen, I had thought of assuming a book as Daniel wants it, I might end up omitting a whole lot of stuff including what I had wanted to be a trademark kind of, something of its own unique style and stuff I always would be remembered for regardless of its take on commerce, flowing with its original intent and avoiding the intellectual mistakes which could be costly and probably diminish the entire process of my profound ideals.

I had also thought of the music industry, hiring musicologists I could use as consultants in the music machine projects starting from the “unconscious” years the vibes begun pumping into my ears and my eyes could not believe what it saw. And with all that on the trail by listening while suspending in “Limbo,” the obvious over the years I could lay claim on of entirely what had belonged to me knowingly, and what I had been known for from that literary point of view which I’d presume was how it should work, supposedly, as an independent thinker.

Independent thinking does not eradicate or suggest anything void of proper counsel. On that account, mainly, on the East-side bands during the post-civil war-reconstruction-era of which I have been well versed to a point being called a musicologist should not be an exaggeration, or hype, on the ground that, I have, too, written widely on the seventies hippie years of my time and culture in which I have been a living witness.

And I have thought of its compilation on a photo-journal kind of format, inviting Uchenna Ikonne, the vintage Nigerian and African music analyst who runs the Comb and Razor Blog and the Comb and Razor Music Group. Uchenna has done so much everyone would agree with me he deserves a national prize for the fact that he dusted off the Eastside bands’ archives and brought into light, vintage Nigerian sounds worthy of mention.

It doesn’t look good at all when much has been said and written about performing artists on the African continent - Dessoui Bosuma, Diblo Bibata, Doctor Dynamite, C.K. Mann, Nsala Mauzenza, John Nzeze, Tabu Ley Rochereau, Joseph Kabesel, Docteur Nico, Antoine Kolosoi, Antoine Armanso, O.K. Jazz, Manu Dibango, Fela Kuti, Sunny Ade, I’ Orchestre African Fiesta, Remy Ongala, S.E. Rogie, Francis Fuster, nana Ampadu, Babatunde Olatunji, I.K. Dairo, Orlando Julius Ekemode, Kanda Bongo Man, Remy Salohmon, Mimi Kazidonna, and the list goes on and on - and a little or none has been said or written about the casts of the Eastside bands dating back from the 1960s when many of the recording artists, too, featured through the Lagos 60s West African musical digest. Not much is known out there about the era’s Eastside bands' sensations of the time

So, if I should be bent to music, where do I begin? weighing back to the nineteen sixties I had yet to know in actuality any of the East-side bands that had begun before it was credited as an original of its own musical genre even though not understood fully in its surroundings within the West African regional coasts.

However, I had thought of running a full time schedule analyzing and interviewing some of the casts from the Eastside, alive today, which would have been enormous task in its capacity, but good to know an analyst had been around in what I thought was a very good development since I had not much travel time undergoing all the projects alone; that is, assuming I did initiate it in a way to involve others, others as joint group/partnership. I had only attempted putting the package through when I created Samaka Music and the Samaka Studios on the West-side of Los Angeles, sitting on the Washington Corridor, waiting for new acts and talents.

In any case, Uchenna had already developed the idea of Comb and Razor Group/Blog and record label on the trail to compile every sound of the era - 60s, 70s, 80s - that be, introducing the vintage years to a Hip-Hop generation with the blend for possibilities to coining a new musical genre for a generation that had been evolving to something else.

I did write some few lines at the Samaka Music Blog until I found no need for it since Comb and Razor, Likembe, Afro Funk Forum Music Blog, Voodoo Funk, Matsuli Music, Steve Ntwiga, Paris DJs, Benn Loxo, African Music, Pan African All Stars and Wrasse Records were spending quality time providing information on the vintage African collections. That break took me elsewhere to explore other areas. Regardless, I did keep up with the tally; attempts to locate Emma China (Wings), Keni St. George (Ozo), Bob Miga (Strangers), Ani Hofner (One World) and numerous other cats of the day. And also attempts for Emma China to release information on his colleagues at the EMI Recording Studios, Wharf Road, Apapa-Lagos; including Johnny Flemming, Charles Effi, Duke, Arinze Okpala, Dandy, Jerry Demua and Emma Dabro - the original casts of Wings during the post-Spud Nathan years, and the years of prosperity for the Eastside bands, which also included Founders 15, Herald 7, Aktion 13, Supreme Cee Jays, Super Wings and Ben Alaka as the best session man ever to play the drums.

Embarking into another area of research was not easy. I had diverted my attention to do something totally different, and this time around, it would take a lot of work; and it would be time-consuming. It also had to do with quality time to get some of the projects well situated.

So in the research for new directions and getting all the facts in order, especially when I had to deal with persons of interests in related interviews on one-on-one basis extracting information everyone needed to know that has not been told; and which as of its time seemingly had been way overdue and could not be told with time going by fast, and the subjects in question expiring and about to take along with them all the vital information they had. It is, in this way, in many occasions, that datas, archives, stuffs in storage for later future use like crates of papers, newsmagazines of years and decades, and other devices that had been used in keeping records, records most valued for references in centuries to come needed for inclusion into new ideas and lines of thought reexamining the importance of the old and the new reemerging on a totally different platform by way of accepting what had been as a new era surfaces.

I have quite often asked why we humans curiously keep the tabs of inventions and things like that, and all the challenges that demands our engagements. And when I found myself in research institutions and places of that nature, even not having to, but all put in a way that calls for directives for something positively drawn to achieve the intended results, and not to generate a premature publication which might be unnecessary like the kind of research projects that pops out and have nothing new or special to say at the moment, ending up a waste of time and resources.

This is what happens when one locks himself in to commit to do things benefiting humanity, as we all, of course, have been beneficiaries from one theory to another; from one invention to another and from one discovery to another, as the list of the purpose goes on and on.

I have mentioned at length the importance of collecting photographs, tapes and interviews which ultimately has been a work in progress, engaging and looking forward to conclude the series of projects which could be in any category, and while pursuing the project with caution for thoroughness, and at the same time “quiz-survey” the applications and objectives if the materials gathered would be good enough and presentable when released and when the whole idea in the long hurdle, is, eventually, known, accepted, endorsed and taken to be a work worthy.

Besides music, photographs and illustrations of sort in that order, essentially notes on historical figures of political, innovations stock, I had thought of including landmark interviews of persons who had shaped our culture in their time and how what they did changed the course of history. But again, I had thought about time, space, and convenience, coupled with what the people may want from the moment of research and surveying, and from the time of completion to general release.

Notwithstanding, I remember in January of a promising 2011, mapping out some strategy and with a little bit of consultation, worked to the execution of what had been laid down for the year, and while with a handful of moderated plans on the suspended works at Samaka Studios, the continuation of music compilation and a possible tandem with Naija Records run by Mike Egi out of the Twin Cities of St. Paul and Minneapolis, Minnesota; I had also thought of adding a great number of West African musical icons over time even if it had to take series of volumes to put into perspective, and actually being a major score to a level that depicts paying homage to the acts that had brought West African music to the fore.

Musicology, I had thought, in any of my personal endeavors, unless collectively engaged, to be first included either by mentioning it and my fascination with a particular artist or performer, and either from my growing-up-kicking-it days, to the time I had begun to understand music patterns and the genre that accompanied it. Though since what I had originally conceived in January to getting it through as the year winds down, was, a conversion, the blending of music genres to one form kind of display and perhaps with a coinage introducing a revived or new musical genre which would open by testing the market to find out which vibe in what had been a mix would be appropriate and would go with the flow of the time.

When Egi and I had thought about this venture, I had not fancied the idea of “jamming” entirely the old stuff he had propped up when the combination had been realized to the point of adjusting and collaborating with the old stuff, which had to me, become old-fashioned compared to how the changes were wanted to be made. So, too, as Egi had talked about the “revival,” the adage of “old wine in a new bottle” with all that reggae compilation and jazzy tunes I had added to help give the project a different kind of flavor that would meet up with the original composition for our time and an expected blowout on the charts. That in line, I was writing other stuffs of great literature, too, especially, essays and articles related to the political environment of a troubled Nigerian national state, and particularly, the disturbing politically volatile Igbo related states, which happened to be my region of origin. I have written to be exhausted on arising matters in the area, my home state of Imo, and despite the attempt to engage for better management of “governmental” affairs through a compromising deal, it was not hidden that the state was clearly not workable.

Even with my backlog of unfinished and yet to be published essays, articles and journals, I made up time to go through the problems of the Igbo related states, and on the expedition, Imo State in particular, where a new administration/political party won the mandate to run the affairs of state promising a new dawn. We had agreed at a related meeting to be committed and honestly, engaged to make things work from a Diaspora standpoint showing a common bond with the home government for good governance. That aspiration looks more of a mirage and we may never get to find the promised dawn. What we seem to have found had been a continuity of a region still with the desire of state of empire and anarchy, and in retrospect, the very same state that had been previously battered beyond recognition with the hope that lessons would be learned from a regime that patently made it abundantly clear it did not care for the well-being of the state of affairs but rather to go by order of its intent - a succeeding regime to payback its “done deal” guaranteed pledge to hoodlums and political thuggish elements that helped put it in power, which now has the same resemblance by way of its operations - assassinations by contractors and consultants that has tripled in less than ten months of the new regime.

The war apparently is now waged between the state’s self-serving political and landowning classes which includes an “influential Diaspora” bunch that all of a sudden had become the generators of the chaos obviously inflaming the land on the grounds of their own personal interest. They are paying off security agents, night watchmen, the national police forces, their own hired thugs and hoodlums to create and unleash all sorts of mayhem, on purpose, in the state they had once pledged to protect and secure by all necessary means to bring about a governable populace.

Imo State troubles had just begun. When the Los Angeles area Imo Diaspora had gathered on a call for oneness and action for thoroughness of system in the state through its democratic practice, starting all over with a clean slate and with an ideal to make Imo a model of all states among her sister states from a platform allegedly written by its “Diaspora elite” on the basis of the American ideology they are adapting, little was really known that another gangster-like state was about to regroup and rethink its strategies. All the meetings, talks and quests to revive Imo from its bad governing image had been a front by a behind closed doors Diaspora to convince and compel its people that the state’s outrageous record and image was as is, would be a thing of the past.

Imo is a gangster state. The worst had just begun. Governor Okorocha’s hoped for firepower to keep the state in check had been neutralized with emergence of total chaos at an alarming rate and if not apprehended would be disastrously unbearable, and may lead to a state of emergency which could perhaps throw the state into turmoil in its administrative fabric, ushering in a mandate from a federal-run political party, if not a dictatorship by a military junta assigned from Abuja.

The reason I talk about chaos and the possibility of a military junta running the state is drawn from what has been going on in the region over time and as it becomes evidently clear the situation has not shown any sign of getting better rather getting worst and dangerous by the day as all that talk by Okorocha upon being sworn in to make drastic changes for a better Imo State wanes in about eight months that oath of office was taken.

Looking closer at it, Imo has been the worst administered state since the Fourth Republic, and with the combination of twelve years Achike Udenwa-Ikedi Ohakim squandered and an emerged Okorocha that is now full of uncertainties, the people are now concluding the state is going to hell by all accounts, and the assumption Imo was to be a model is definitely wrong and misleading. In as much as Imo has been used on purpose by the machineries that run the affairs of state and in disguise as the ruling party (PDP), in the country since the country’s latest attempt at an experimental democracy when the military juntas ran out of tactical options, Imo has been the guinea pig of the party corrupted from its inception by Obasanjo, it has been clearly understood that the indigenes - Diaspora and homeland - had been the ones to destroy itself, which affects the state, crippling it with the lost of hope and in its condition, no remedy.

By March 2011, every political animal in Imo on a different party affiliation talked about the need to fixing what had been a collapsed state resulting from Ohakim’s-led maladministration even as Abuja would not admit it, and the quest to reclaim the state’s good name from its first cut of the Balkanization process; and the people who made up the place on the set of tearing the Igbo nation apart when all about Imo and Anambra had been intentionally designed as opponents in a knockout game; and the addition of insult to dishonor when Imo had to be torn into two parts, and Anambra, too, having Enugu cut out on a continuation of the balkanization theory, a pattern to create political differences as strategy and a well orchestrated plan for enmity among a people of the same lineage. It was during this time of creating more states in what had been East Central State, even though East Central State, from around it, emerged Rivers State and Cross River State as another plot for division between the minority speaking Igbo states and East Central State that was a full Igbo stock. The confusion, henceforth, would not see an ending.

As very much intended, the March syndrome of being on the crossroads, on the premise of having to put an end to the state’s direction to nowhere, the magic game came into play, which would determine the seriousness of the people when time for the polls draws near to either elect a new governor or have the incumbent continue on the appeal to get the work done on a second term run as concluding part of projects planned to be completed on a “contract” of projected eight years to physically see the work done. It had been the only thing that gave hope to a gullible and vulnerable people, which held them together.

But that hope was an illusion, and with the concept of recycling the same people to run the affairs of state, the much anticipated hope may not come, which is now being seen in Okorocha’s much expected administration of good governance and getting things done in the state; the state’s most indigenes, if not all, gave up and could no longer live on empty promises, counting on Okorocha’s miracles, and that with their predictions of near certainty based on developments around the state, that Okorocha’s miracles of fixing Imo “is just another mirage.” What has been totally confusing is a Diaspora that had waited over the years as bad leadership took its toll on the state. The wait and the hope that all would come to form and play out naturally was a tactic of endurance and playing to the gallery of the handles, of a failed state, deliberately engineered from the center - a folly, inept, and corrupt administration from the moment it commenced operations. And with such attitude, the rest followed the direction of a central government that had no sense of purpose, which is where the center had to be held accountable.

But when Nigeria’s President Goodluck Jonathan isn’t doing much independently to use his sense of judgement as the commander-in-chief of the nation’s armed forces; and, when known that the Islamic murderous gang Boko Haram are composed of people he should know very well, the “untouchable elite” that had thought the nation’s resources including its human capital had been their own personal tool they had every right to use for whatever purpose in demanding what they had wanted, anytime, from the country, and with Jonathan having no clue how to go about a situation only him and his kitchen cabinets could effectively trail and apprehend the moles of the bloodthirsty cannibals harassing the country in its claim of agitation for an Islamic state.

The irony, until the threats which Jonathan’s government should take seriously and the firepower of Boko Haram and other murderous gangs in the country are neutralized, Jonathan’s regime do not have answers, which is wholly mind boggling and, therefore, he should quit so the country can chart a new course. We’ve had enough drama and it’s no longer necessary. I’m sure Daniel would agree on this one while I shop around for publishers.

In my related discourse and exchange of correspondences over the months with Aloysius Duru, on a very old subject, Saint Saviours College and ts alumni that had nothing to show in lifting the image of the school founded in the 1950s by the locals and missionaries. I had argued with Aloy on the same topic that I raised awhile ago at a related forum when a complicated case of misappropriation of funds got into the hands of those trusted with handling of group funds, keeping it intact and viable took the opportunity to embezzle what had been secured with them, keeping funny books, which I questioned.

Aloy had connected me with folks we were all in class/school together at Saint Saviours, but the thought of alumni had been distant in their current trend of thoughts - one of the many reasons most of the schools we left behind are in decay. I had contact with all except Malachy Ijemere whose lead somewhere in Alabama I’m yet to locate.

In fact, very few that I have talked to or encountered by other means of communication have I been able to exchange our ideas and intent on addressing the issues of alumni and Alma Mater, and the areas of academic discipline that needs attention from the time of abandonment no one remembers. I had also emphasized on the need to collect data as much as we could, locating “Old Boys” putting it into perspective and, laying out how to go about the projects and keeping up with tracking the conventions as they may arise. As it turned out, the interest was not encouraging and how the problems could be solved on its own and with such manners, beats me.

With education that has gone down the drain over the years as a result of neglect, coupled with a failed state where nothing gets done; and on the contrast, a whole lot could have been done considering the products of Saint Saviours in key positions and professionally accomplished folks all around the world, and yet, no single alumni or project dedication to show for it.

My final suggestion on a deteriorating Saint Saviours looked at as “none of my business” kind of issue, and much the most important, time for all Saint Saviours Boys to start collectively and publicly, a network of awareness and intentions of projects ahead that would bring to the fore a standard learning academy fully equipped for broader intellectual development, preparing students for further academic pursuits which would generate the kind of orderly communities typical of organized societies with a resemblance of Igbo Republican ideals of our forebears.

Again, enter the cornered world of a memoir and what had been my take in that regard which would reflect all that one had done in the past, and which had to deal with tales of imagination, worlds of fantasy and, realistically, the simple truth. Checking all that list and a haul of accumulated literary works, a memoir’s almost done in my books when the time approaches, that is, if one had planned it that way which probably would fly with Daniel's demands even if as I intend to overlook the concept of commerce and leave it all for posterity - benefiting humankind. Daniel had agreed on that until lately when he begun the movement for a book now campaign to persuade me take the step and get the whole idea of book publishing rolling.

Meanwhile, I am still thinking about a documentary almost done, and which would cover a great amount of area in its capacity beginning from the pre-West African states, conquest, to the present state of the region and what had changed over time. But Daniel haven’t seen anything yet; he wants a not cozy line of thought for me, and also not one that I loathe; but the thing for me is what I had thought in the works of time dealing with issues of the future had been more important and not the commercial success which isn’t a guarantee, as Daniel Likes it.

As it had happened, again, on March 26, 2011, enter George “Olili” Ilouno’s 50th birthday bash at the Hollywood Park Casino in Inglewood, California, while I had already been in communication with Innocent Osunwa, the radical teacher who talks robust Igbo politics and the trending stuff, he talked much about “me,” the subject, and book release that has been way overdue, and that regardless, the collection of essays and related commentaries binding together. It’s been overwhelming and Daniel had not been the only one on my case to pop out my literary works.

What had happened before Olili’s bash almost made me make a sudden 180-degrees about face to the event, asking myself if indeed my works should be more important to put together, or Olili’s one night, hard partying and joyous festivities. My works are a lifetime thing that goes with the territory.

I would be covering Olili’s party for Life & Time Magazine, and upon arrival, the ballroom had the biggest Igbo cultural crowd I had seen in a minute. I met folks not seen before. While partying with folks and exchanging pleasantries with loved ones, I found myself circled by the Los Angeles area house members, like mobsters who had been on a mission. I have committed a crime, so they say. My crime was an article written in July 2010, about an Igbo club in Greater Los Angeles that couldn't live up to its creed. During the time I was circled and a Case management Conference paper served me by Ifeanyi Ibediro, who allegedly had nothing to do with the lawsuit, these so-called house members were bumping fists, taking up hi-fives, bumping chests and jubilation on a case that’s yet to meet panels on the Case Management Conference and how to resolve whatever was Ephraim Obi’s (Plaintiff) beef with the article that I wrote. An article that did not mention his name in any way. I’m not sure what they did. I left it as is, and did not let it bother me or distract my attention for the purpose of the evening.

Also, what had happened that night, house members circling of a photo-journalist carrying out his assignment, covering Olili’s event, did not surprise me, but laughable considering their mood; high spirits of relief that they have got their victim who had been their nightmare.

“Yes, we got him,” they all would say to each other. “Let him write again, We have neutralized his pen writing firepower. He thinks he’s the only one who can write,” they seem to be saying. Like John the Baptist, in the biblical son of Elizabeth and Zacharias, and before Herod, the ruler of Jewish Palestine under the Roman Empire, was imprisoned and beheaded for blasphemy. Like Socrates, the Greek philosopher whose philosophical ideals was alleged to corrupt the youths and when asked to recant his principles which he wouldn’t, was executed. And like Jesus Christ before the Roman Governor of Judea, Pontius Pilate, seeing no crime that Jesus committed, washing his hands off the trial of Jesus who was crucified by the Jews.

Such was the atmosphere at Olili’s bash, in my case with Ephraim whose motive had been to use me as a guinea pig in his years of unproductive law practice in California, and his Case management Conference call as a litmus test, who was at the gathering and part of the circling culture that poured out to see the decimation of my writing career. As it turned out, Ephraim and his clueless gang of law-suing colleagues who as I may presume had no clue of what they had proffered on the basis of contents of the said write-up, wanting me dead or alive by way of subduing my literary work, in their 2011 quest for Igbo elitism and oppression of peoples and denial of the First Amendment Rights.

2011, so to speak, was a year of ups and downs, of turmoil and triumph, of tragedy and blessings, and of new discoveries and fortunes. I learned some tricks though never would get into it, never; on the British press and News of the World in the scandalous phone hacking burst involving the deputy features editor, Paul McMullen, Rebekah Brooks and Andy Coulson. It was a tabloid sensationalism and “gutter-snipping” journalism which told how newspaper publishers goes to any length to get its staff paid handsomely digging out the nastiest news-holes out there on the hangers of its reading public.

For 2012, Daniel wants a logical, intellectual discourse on “What Nigeria Owes Nd’Igbo,” “What Nd’Igbo Are Doing To Themselves,” “What America Owes The Blacks,” and “What The Blacks Are Doing To Themselves In America,” which I had thought should be fascinating and on a firmer ground of argument.

On a year, overall, a world in economic crisis never seen before since the Great Depression; a world changed dramatically in technology; a world we now live in, that has become closer and closer; a world full of uncertainties with crisis in all of its surroundings, and a world now armed with weapons of mass destruction with the capabilities to end time, we surely hope it becomes crisis free, hunger free, full of love and a place we all could dwell together.

And let’s begin on that sound note. One World, One People and One Destiny. Peace and no more wars!

Monday, April 18, 2011

Interview with Ngozi Achebe


Ngozi Achebe was born in England by Augustine Ndubuisi Achebe and Matilda Chikodili Achebe. She was raised in Nigeria and also spent time in England, her place of birth. She picked up interest in 15th and 16th Century West African history in which she was inspired for writing Onaedo - The Blacksmith's Daughter, her debut novel. In this interview published exclusively at Life & Time Magazine, she talks about her debut novel and other challenging issues.

Excerpt:

Before we proceed in this interview, we would like to know who you are.

I was born in London to an engineer Augustine Achebe and his wife a Matilda, a nurse. I was raised in Nigeria and later when I became a medical doctor I did go back to England to do further training. Then I came over to the USA to be close to my sisters who had come over earlier. I still have a full time medical practice. I also have two children Jennifer and Nnamdi who are always my first priority in all I do.


The moment you created in your thoughts penning “Onaedo: The Blacksmith’s Daughter,” what went through your mind, and the environment in which this compelling novel began?

I have always been fascinated by fifteenth and sixteenth century West Africa, the period just around the Portuguese arrival; a period that is unfortunately not taught very well in Nigeria. I imagine what one group must have thought of the other without looking only through the prism of slavery. It all came from this curiosity to know more and share my findings in a dramatic way. Hence Onaedo.

You are in the medical arts, and one would expect you should be writing on the profession you were trained. How and why did you pick up the idea to write about a world of strong women and culture conflicts which the novel depicts?

When I started researching the story I felt I had to create characters that everybody could identify with. Even if you were not African you knew this father, this brother, this aunt this young woman. An ancient story with a modern dimension. We are not so different after all.


Let’s talk about “Onaedo: The Blacksmith’s Daughter,” from Chapter 1 through 8 and a 16th Century West Africa explored by the Portuguese. First, why 16th Century West Africa, tracing back to the Portuguese exploration and the slave trade?

The Portuguese age of exploration and its impact on the African continent, is a poorly told story in Nigeria, at least in the schools I went to. I wanted to tell this story from a view point that is not often heard. I really wanted people to see how fascinating that whole period was, to see that everything was not all black and white, but was also in varying shades of gray.

The characters are amazing and very familiar with ones upbringing, How did you come up with all these characters like Amechi, Udemezue, Adanma, Dualo, Oguebie, Eneda, Ugodi and the rest in a storytelling typical of growing up in the woods, and a story that had the same resemblance of a commune and a normal village life from around how one grew up?

I did grow up in the woods! During the Nigerian/Biafran civil war we all escaped into the interior, and there my siblings and I experienced village life first hand. It was fascinating and I’m thankful I had that opportunity for this total immersion in this culture even though I could have done without the war part! All those characters are familiar - they are our everyday friends, relatives and acquaintances.

Now that your juiced novel “Onaedo: The Blacksmith’s Daughter” has done pretty much well as I can tell, coupled with the reviews which is still overwhelmingly pouring in, what should we be looking for in your next project? A storytelling-fictional characters, or something of a non-fictional characters like the pogrom, life events, and, or biography, or maybe some unpublished works, sort of?

My next project, now in later stages of completion, is a coming of age novel, about a girl growing up in the midst of a war. It is purely fictional but is based on some experiences of mine and others during the period of the civil war that engulfed Nigeria in the 60’s leading to the creation of the short-lived republic of Biafra which was in south eastern Nigeria. I’m excited about it, because it has been a labor of love. I was writing it before I diverted into ‘Onaedo’. I also have other works in progress but will not talk about them yet.



We discussed in several occasions about the pogrom and civil war in your native land, and how vile that was while back from London which I’m still sure you remember what it looked like. Besides the novel “Onaedo: The Blacksmith’s Daughter”, could you tell us a little bit about your experience as a child and why horrors of war especially the most blood soaked event in Africa, the anti-Igbo pogrom, must not cease to be told?

War is never good and a fratricidal one such as the Nigerian/Biafran war is even worse. It was a sad time. A government should protect its own citizens from atrocity otherwise it is not really a government at all. The Nigerian government then failed to do so for one section of its population and failed to stop the genocide that took place. I was a child at the time but I remember the anguish of it all. We should tell these stories so that never, never again. Evil pervades when good men do nothing. I want to believe we have come a long way from that.


Besides your profession as a medical doctor and your passion to pen down your thoughts as in “Onaedo: The Blacksmith’s Daughter,” what else fascinates you as in passion and things like that?


I love to hike and explore especially with family. I try to be as physical as possible, and as a medical doctor, I try to lead a healthy life so I’m an example to my patients. I’m also an avid reader. I used to draw and paint at one time but I wasn’t that good at it, so I gave it up. My sisters loved them though and a few hang still in their homes and offices.

Did your Uncle Chinua Achebe’s works inspire you to follow the literary giant’s footsteps?

I have been asked that question often and the answer has to be yes .Growing up in his shadow has been a great influence in my life. My one regret is not starting early to get my work published but my people have a saying that whatever time in the day you wake up, becomes your own morning.

I read your uncle Chinua Achebe’s piece “Nigeria’s Promise, Africa’s Hope” for the New York Times and he seems to be still angry regarding the state of affairs in a African national state. Uncle Chinua Achebe writes:

“In my mind, there are two parts to the story of the African peoples ... the rain beating us obviously goes back at least half a millennium. And what is happening in Africa today is a result of what has been going on for 400 or 500 years, from the “discovery” of Africa by Europe, through the period of darkness that engulfed the continent during the trans-Atlantic slave trade and through the Berlin Conference of 1885. That controversial gathering of the leading European powers, which precipitated the “scramble for Africa,” we all know, took place without African consultation or representation. It created new boundaries in ancient kingdoms, and nation-states resulting in disjointed, inexplicable, tension-prone countries today.”

What’s your take on Uncle Chinua Achebe’s comment? Are his comments still relevant today and how the flow has changed over time?


I agree that European colonialism did not augur well for Africans, however I also believe that despite all those early missteps that we should have fashioned our own path by now. A country like Nigeria blessed with rich resources and people should have done better at fifty years of independence. Some of our wounds I’m afraid are self-inflicted. Uncle Chinua speaks passionately for Nigeria at all times and his disappointment is palpable. He is of a generation that dreamed big dreams for us and most of it has remained unrealized.

What do you think Uncle Chinua Achebe’s talking about here, and why is he still angry despite the novel “Things Fall Apart,” over fifty years ago that had foretold the social problems in such a society?

I think his novel ‘A Man of The People’ is even more relevant in speaking to how far or not we have traveled. I read that book again recently and it was difficult for me to believe that that book was written in 1966. It’s like Nigeria hasn’t moved, hasn’t made significant progress in social and economic justice for the average Nigerian in over 40 years. It’s even worse today because there has been a systematic wipe out of the middle class which was not the case in 1966. It’s really a crying shame.

Did you see yourself putting up characters in the novel “Onaedo: The Blacksmith’s Daughter?


I did try to dissociate myself from the characters but as a writer there’s always a part of you in one or two of your characters. I don’t fight it; I just go with the flow of whatever works to bring a character to life.


What do people around you tell you about the novel “Onaedo: The Blacksmith’s Daughter”?

Most say they love it, a few tell me what I should remedy or what I didn’t get right, how I should have made this person do this or that person do the other. I take it all in good humor. I appreciate each reader and each critic or critique no matter how outlandish - and I have had a few of those! It makes me all around, a better writer.

How about a movie deal on “Onaedo”?

I’m all ears! If it comes, I will be ready.

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