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Twelve men and women have been selected
to compete in the seventh edition of the Gulder Ultimate search, tagged
‘The Ultimate Hero’. As Freeze, On-Air-Personality for Cool FM, who
anchored the event, pointed out, “the search, this time, is not for a
treasure it is for a personality that reflects the Gulder brand.”

Out of the 41 hopefuls shortlisted
after three weeks of rigorous screening in four zones across the
country, 18 were eventually selected to be called on-stage at Lagoon
Restaurant, Victoria Island Lagos, where the event to unveil the final
ten was held last Saturday.

The moderator, under the watchful eyes
of guests and the organisers, was saddled with the task of pruning down
the prospective contestants, and in a lively interactive session the
candidates and the guests; this feat was eventually achieved,
interspersed with several ecstatic outbursts from the candidates
selected.

However, to the puzzlement off not a
few, the management of Nigerian Breweries Plc, through their
representatives at the event, communicated to the moderator on stage
that, in the spirit of the 40 year anniversary of the Gulder brand in
Nigeria, which is being celebrated this year, the organisers of the
show have decided to increase the number of contestants to 12. One male
and one female contestant who had lost hope earlier, were picked to
join the 10 earlier chosen.

Winners of past editions of the reality
show, Ezugo Egwuagu, Michael Nwachukwu and Uche Nwaezeapu ; music diva
Mumma Gee and Nollywood actor and past anchor of the programme Bob
Manuel-Udokwu were in attendance at the event

Among the lucky finalists chosen are:
Shehu Atiku, Henry Ogarachukwu, and Okorogo Simeon, who has shown
dedication to being part of the show by taking off his six-year grown
dreads, in order, according to him, “to fit the image of the ultimate
man.”

The contestants, all between ages 21 to 27 will be taken to the Omo
Forest Reserve in Ogun State to confront one another and nature’s
elements in a 21-day search.

‘The woman I am missing now is a beautiful woman

An older woman aged in beauty…

A beauty digging in… making a last stand around the

eyes where her smile is still disarming’

Thus begins ‘A
Fine Madness’, by the soldier and poet, Mashingaidze Gomo. Sometimes it
takes a soldier to engage the (mainly) European myth of the cleanliness
of the conscience of a gun. Gomo set about his self assigned task in
this volume with remarkable zeal. He has written an unusual book, an
important book, the kind of book that gets itself noticed because it is
feisty and from the heart. The book is classified as Fiction/Black
Interest by the publisher. It has been severally dubbed prose poetry,
narrative collage and even narrative stream-of-consciousness by others.

The author himself
is not overly particular about generic correlation or generic
expectations. He is writing, as soldiers are wont to write, urgently,
sweepingly and sternly of what his world consists of as a man in the
midst of the substance and transience of war. In this, he is a
pragmatic convert of Harry Garuba, the poet and scholar, who declared
that literature, like land, has to be positively possessed in order not
to be lost. Of course Garuba’s thesis is a nuanced statement of
critical literary jurisprudence but it is charming to find pragmatics
throw their element into its calculus. Gomo is bold. His energy is
infectious and his style is admirable for one making a debut.

Echoes of Senghor

If you have not
heard of Gomo before, don’t worry. His work in this volume is dense, it
will remind you of Leopold Sedar Senghor, Okot p’Bitek, Amilcar Cabral,
the Serbo-Croat poet Vasco Popa (in translation) and even Dambudzo
Marechera. His writing is intimate with violence and the tools of death
but the heart of this soldier-writer is set on love and the rituals of
life: ‘At first there was a single shot/A lone shot whose echo lasted
longer than was necessary…’ ‘And the Alouettes beat on/Two birds of
war, on the trail of a tireless horizon…’

At various
interludes in A Fine Madness, the soldier-writer sifts through the
rubble of African post-colonial history to see what can be salvaged of
the mighty ruins of the continent so effectively pulverised by foreign
treasure-seekers and their internal collaborators. It is interesting
that he does not rely on the Geiger counter for locating mineral
deposits, he relies instead on instinct for locating those trueborn
Africans who will retrieve first the soul of the continent and then the
possessions of which the people have been robbed. His search is
uncompromising, his ambit is wide. He embraces those the society
condemn as prostitute but who possess a quality of soul far purer than
the phallic conscience of the rapists and thieves who have turned these
poor souls into mean beggarly elements. Gomo insists on African
expansiveness of spirit. Africa has never been outdone in giving, will
never be outdone in giving. It is an immortal largeness of spirit which
colonialism can maim but never kill.

Historical bogeymen

But Gomo is too
often bogged down by the bogeymen of history and wonky philosophy. For
instance, he writes: ‘African history must be made by hard old men who
can/withstand colonialist arrogance and demonisation if/Posterity
requires it of them.’

It is one thing to
liberate oneself of the gravitational pull of generic demands but quite
another to argue with a gerontological bias regarding a whole
continent. It is possible that, coming from Zimbabwe and coming into
adulthood in the flush of the liberation struggles, Gomo’s trust in the
virtue of old men has suffered exaggeration. A safer route for all is
the collective wisdom of the people, young and old, male and female. As
Soyinka once observed, there may yet be wisdom in infant gums which
will defeat the set notions of age.

When Gomo sticks
to his main muse, Tinyarei, who is, in reality, mother Africa – he is
capable of presenting the paradoxes of contemporary Africa in the most
illuminating light: a people as willing to enjoy the fruits of the
labour of liberation fighters even as they pillory the liberation
fighters, willing to use modern technology to devastating effect in war
without any willingness to foster qualities of mind to move into their
own organic technologies of peace. Indeed, as the poet explores the
luminous moments in his tour of duty in the Congo, the reader is
brought to a consciousness of how, in essence, all Africa is so
effectively represented in that fratricidal conflict.

Ilyushin’s flight

You do not have to
live through the humid horrors of war in the Democratic Republic of
Congo to identify with the human tragedy unfolding in the region. Read
Gomo’s book. The destruction wrought by ubiquitous small arms and the
occasional helicopter gunship, the fraying of the moral fabric of a
people, turning women into courtesans and men into murderers, the
erasure of vital history and knowledge in a region that once produced
astronomers and poets in numbers. Mashingaidze’s material is strong
meat. The product of eyes that have seen death, nostrils that have
endured its rank stench.

The poetic
personae is not self-righteous. He admits freely to liaisons with all
kinds of elements, male and female, in the theatre of war. He is a
soldier. He has done what soldiers do. A Fine Madness ends on a note
inspired by flight. He ties the aeronautics of an Ilyushin’s flight to
the moral technique African’s must adopt in order to be free. Indeed,
Gomo insists on freedom as a non-negotiable precondition for the
realisation of the African dream. Freedom and a certain faith in the
fighting spirit of Africans, ancestors and the unborn. It is enough to
move one to tears.

This book is a necessary read. In it you will find enough to love
and quarrel with. It will provoke you to contemplate the African
conundrum afresh even as it surprises you with those echoes of the
village chanteuse which a large number of us have lost or never even
heard.

The two days of the
Convention on Art and Development (CONADEV) held on September 20 and 21
in Lagos, witnessed a total of 32 papers being presented on the general
theme, ‘Engaging Art as a Tool for Sustainable Development’.
Participants like Tony Okpe, an art professor at Ahmadu Bello
University (ABU) and consultant of the National Gallery of Art (NGA)
gave a well rounded talk on the relationship between art installations
and performance art. Peace Afuwai, a masters’ degree student at ABU,
talked about how artists could protect their works from unauthorised
reproduction.

Speakers who came
from as far flung as Maiduguri, to higher institutions of learning in
Benin, Port Harcourt, Cross River, Yaba College of Technology and the
Federal College of Education (Technical), both in Lagos, made
presentations on topics that covered art history.

Some of the topics
include: issues on development; art criticism; roles of art in social
integration and empowerment of Nigerian youths; sustenance and the
survival of Nigerian artists; art design and technology in development;
art in advertising; 3D animation. Others included: learning from the
techniques used by masters like Bruce Onobrakpeya; art in fashion; and
culture and tourism. All the presentations are scheduled to be put
together in a journal.

Though there was a
programme for the sessions for each day, protocol had to be thrown out
of the window as some presenters where not available or not ready. So,
the organisers worked with those who were present and ready. The
presenters’ works then went under the microscope, with each makeshift
session having a chairman who was assisted by rapporteurs. The event
also had Farafina and AB Art World sell books and other art materials
from stands outside the venue.

Communiqué

On the second day
after all the presentations were taken, a communiqué which summarised
the conclusions drawn by the conference was read out by Tony Okonofua.

“After 50 years of
professional art and design practice in relation to sustainable
development, art is yet to be integrated into governance and society,”
he noted.

From this
observation, the following conclusions were reached. Firstly,
government and NGO’s should encourage research through the appropriate
bodies in art design and cultural development.

Secondly, that the
government should publicise research findings and encourage their
utilisation; thirdly, that the government should implement an art
endowment fund.

Exhibition

The CONADEV
exhibition opened on September 20 (after a modestly attended preview
event on the previous day) and the participants where wowed by a
cultural group before feasting on the display of about 40 works in the
Harmattan Gallery.

“The conference
organisers have done quite a great job, but at times you can discover
that the unexpected can be there. So, for the plans, the logistics and
organisation have improved. There were a few hitches, but I think it
was a smart move by the organisers in remedying the situation,”
observed art historian and philosopher, Frank Ugiomoh, who gave the
lead presentation.

Some observations

Ugiomoh said that artists should embrace more reading, as he was not impressed with some of the presentations made.

“I believe we have
a need to start a workshop for artists to learn critical writing as it
affects the presentation of art,” Mr. Ugiomoh said.

He argued that if
one creates a work and cannot present, it won’t make any sense. Kehinde
Adepegba, artist and art historian who also presented a paper on art
criticism, expressed his enthusiasm at how the convention had allowed
the exchange of ideas.

“The convention is
a place for idea exchange and a platform for moving Nigeria forward. If
the government can look into the eventual communiqué it will really
help,” he said.

Samuel Chukwuka, a
student of art history from the University of Port Harcourt, said he
enjoyed everything the conference had to offer but felt the organisers
should be more stringent in selecting papers to be presented. In
summing up he said, “I have something to take back with me and show
others what I have learnt here.”

Ahmed Tijani Mohammed, an artist and fashion designer based in Ghana, also shared his thoughts about the convention.

“I was inspired by
the way the senior artists are involved in everything that has happened
here today. I am also inspired by how the older artists motivate the
younger ones. I am taking back a lot of things. If I were to pack it as
luggage, I would need extra luggage.

“One thing I learnt
is copyright and how to protect my works,” he said. He also hoped that
future CONADEV exhibitions will feature new media arts like
installations. “I see a bright future, the next convention will be far
better than this one,” he concluded.

Peace Afuwai, who
came from Zaria and presented a paper, said she had learnt that a lot
of people did not still see the necessity to patent their works. She
felt that people did not recognise people that teach art, but believed
that the convention would help change that. She expressed the hope that
organisers would also hold an Annual General Meeting after the
convention to solidify CONADEV’s resolutions.

In closing, the Local Organising Committee chair, Oliver Enwonwu,
brought the first international convention to a close by saying, “It
has been two very intense days of intellectual stimulation, debate and
presentations. It is a successful convention and a sign that the SNA is
moving forward. It is a confirmation that the visual arts in this
country are moving on to greater heights.”

The serene premises of the British
Council in Ikoyi, Lagos, recently played host to young art lovers who
turned out in large numbers for the official presentation of Zainabu
Jallo’s book – ‘Onions Make Us Cry’ and the Creative Arts Mentoring
Forum.

The event kicked off with a press
conference, which afforded journalists a one on one interview session
with the author, as well as an introduction to her latest work,
recently longlisted for the 2010 NLNG Literature Prize.

The visibly shy Jallo is a freelance
writer, radio presenter, scriptwriter, and playwright. During the meet
and greet session, the Plateau State native told the audience that she
had been running an imaginary column since she was 5.

‘My mum recently came up with some of
my writings at age five to six and I was amazed at some of the things I
had written down as far back as then. While at the university, many of
my professors would say I would do better as a writer, and so I guess
that could be the reason I write today.”

The title

The interesting
title of Jallo’s play may not be unconnected to her deep and
imaginative thinking. She said, “I chose to title the book ‘Onions Make
Us Cry’ because I felt it summed up the various reasons people give for
their shortcomings or predicament. So, since we all say things like
‘onions make us cry’, what other title captures it better?”

Set in an engaging
mad house, ‘Onions Make Us Cry’ is written in an open style. It also
has a lot of poetic dialogue and employs a general dose of metaphors.
The dialogue is also rhythmical and thus makes it easy for a reader to
flow with the pace as it progresses from one situation into another.

The first thing a
reader notices when he or she picks up the book is the light pink cover
(it has some rings of onions on it); at 62 pages, it is also
lightweight in terms of pagination.

“I wrote the first
draft in 2008, but I have been collecting ideas since 2006. I thought
of something which will appeal to anyone who doesn’t read too much. I
read plays that are written in acts and scenes, so I wanted to write
something I would love to read myself,” she explained.

A writer’s mind

Jallo read excerpts
of her work to the audience during the book reading session. The
dialogue comes across as deep and therefore, causes a reader to ponder,
meditate, and read in-between the lines.

The lead character,
Malinda Jandayi, a patient in a psychiatric home, is a representation
of women who are locked up in silence, despite being abused by their
husbands or relatives. On the other hand, the clinical psychologist,
Lola Gambari, is herself a victim of the same condition which her
patient suffers from. At the end of the day, the patient ends up
helping and counselling her doctor. An irony such as this is what the
reader encounters at one point or the other as the reading progresses.

So, just how does
Jallo’s mind work? According to her, “I write selectively. Its like my
old Sony camera: whatever I see, I capture. It is a potpourri of
everything. I have a weird mind and nothing in the story has got to do
with my past experiences. I’m not a feminist, but I think a woman is a
strong breed – but unfortunately, many of them do not know that. I tell
a story my heart bleeds for. It is a collection of people’s stories
written in a poetic dialogue.

The mentoring session

Feminism and its
themes have always been a touchy and sensitive issue. However, the
University of Jos graduate makes it easy for the reader to appreciate
and come to terms with it, thanks to her witty anecdotes and quips.

All through the reading, Jallo’s sense of humour is not in any way drowned by her introvert nature.

Other readers of
‘Onions Make Us Cry’ at the event were: Koko Kalango (founder of the
Port Harcourt-based Rainbow Club), Yinka Ijabiyi of the British
Council, and Segun Adefila (leader, Crown Troupe of Africa). As the
reading began, Jalo hinted the audience that her book will soon be
adapted for stage by Segun Adefila. The book readers were later joined
by the mentors for the day: the Inspiration FM on air personality, Dan
Foster; MNET managing director, Biola Alabi; and the event anchor, Carl
Raccah, Oragangotan record label boss.

It was fun all the
way for the audience, many of whom were excited at the rare opportunity
to see and meet with the likes of Dan Foster and Biola Alabi in person.
From the ‘how- to-be- a-better- presenter’ to ‘how- to- succeed –in-
the- creative- industry’ tips, lectures and tutorials were given in a
very informal way.

Jallo was also on
hand to give some words of encouragement to budding writers who may
have had their manuscripts rejected at one point or the other. She
empathised with the plight of the budding writer who has faced
rejection, saying, “I was rejected times without number. All I ever
heard were things like we don’t publish plays, prose is a lot more
welcoming here in Nigeria. And now, I was not using the acts and scenes
you find in conventional plays, so I had to persevere and keep my hope
and dream alive.”

She also added that
she was pleased with the audience reception of her play, adding that
this was the first time she would be having a reading in Nigeria.

It was an evening
well spent and the audience had an opportunity to pitch creative ideas
and also interact with their mentors on a first hand basis.

The book presentation was part of the British Council’s Creative
Enterprise mentoring programme, a platform for emerging creative
persons to interact, network, and be mentored by established and
successful creative entrepreneurs in the various sectors of the
creative industries.

Sitting pretty in a
Lagos block of flats is a place called ‘Art Barn’. True to its word, it
is a barn of sorts, housing not only artworks, but antiques, with some
dating back to the 1800’s when the white man first set foot on the land
later known as Nigeria.

With art works and
antiquities like guns, compasses, telephones, grandfather clocks,
clothes, and typewriters, the ‘Barn’ is a veritable historic site. And
its owner, Richmond Ogolo, who doubles as the vice president of the Art
Galleries Association of Nigeria (AGAN), is set on educating the public
on the merits of antiques.

“I think there is
no clear distinction between antiques and art. There are art works with
an antique feel. They are mainstream art, but they have that antique
feel and can be sold as antique,” Ogolo declared.

The trained lawyer,
who hails from Opobo, has always been surrounded by objects etched with
history. His hometown was one of the first points of contact with
foreigners; and till date, it has relics to remind visitors of such
times.

Growing up in a
town where his grandfather kept antiques and seeing the way his
teachers preserved items for their sentimental value, only amplified
his curiosity. Ogolo went on to sell antique cars, which he acquired
from the northern part of Nigeria, and set up an automobile business.

“Because the Pan
African movement was linked with the civil rights movements, it was no
surprise that Nigerians who went to America to [study] came back not
only with their mannerisms, but with the things they consumed, like
automobiles, marking the entry of expensive cars like Porsche into the
country,” he explained.

Due to lack of a viable market, however, he ended his trade in antique cars, focusing instead on other kinds of period objects.

On sartorial authenticity

“From the
Pan-African perspective, we have this phobia for being Western. But it
is in our thinking, culture, and traditions because of the Western
experience. People don’t want to be seen, especially in contemporary
times, as having too many Western values, but we have a history of
Western influence. It cannot be pushed away, because it has been there
right from when the Portuguese came,” he asserted.

Ogolo’s fascination
with the historical consumerism, has seen him travel to various parts
of Africa and Europe, searching for the next antique to add to his
growing collection. He complains that his collection still has a long
way to go before reaching the capacity he dreams of.

“If you look at it
well, what we wear is of Western origin. I can tell you that by 1800,
most Africans wore nothing. It was (our) contact with the West that
gave us a sense of clothing and then we borrowed heavily from it,” he
said.

He gave examples
with the famous Ankara, which he said originated from Indonesia before
it was adapted by the Dutch and then the British.

“In the Niger
Delta, the shirts and headgear are Western. Maybe in a sense, the most
original costume we wear in Nigeria is probably worn by the Yoruba,
(but) the technique of weaving is European,” he added.

Business sense

His belief in the
documentation of Nigerian consumption and the revelation of the
business angle of selling antiques, which he learnt from corner pawn
shops and auction houses, convinced him that it could be a workable
business.

“I saw a viable
trade in it. From trading in family heirlooms at the corner pawn shop,
to getting into professional antique floor like Sotheby’s. The antiques
go for as little as one dollar to multi-millions,” Mr. Ogolo said.

Though the need to
document Nigeria’s history of consumerism played a large role in his
venturing into antiques market, he confessed that his flair for
recognising business opportunities gave him a head start.

“I was exposed to
foreign cultures and saw that it was a thriving business. These items
of old have been part of our history. For all the fears associated with
outside influences, we have a symbiotic relationship with them, so it
is important that we take advantage and not shy away from it.”

Ogolo believes the
infrastructure for the antique market in other parts of the world could
be replicated in Nigeria, since there is already a thriving art scene.
And that people who invest in art should also invest in contemporary
antiques, and not just Nigerian traditional antiquities like the ones
from the Nok or Ife cultures.

“Art is in everything, everything done is designed by art,” Ogolo insisted.

“Antique objects
are art objects; everything we use on a daily basis represents
something in art. I feel it is something we can tap into,” he added.

The gallery owner
has been collecting artworks since childhood; and his collection
includes old guns, the letter his teacher gave him to his parents when
the civil war started, as well as the antique cars. He plans to hold an
antique exhibition as soon as he is able to open a separate store to
display them and get some items in his collection authenticated.

“I have outlets
where I sell art, once in a while I put an antique piece on display;
though it takes some time, someone always picks an interest and comes
in to buy,” he said.

He added, however, that, “I don’t have a rich stock to place the business on the international market.”

Some history

From seeing John
Lennon’s bullet-proof Rolls Royce to collecting and eventually losing
glasses believed to have been owned by Queen Victoria, and to having
access to old maps of Lagos when it was still a protectorate, and
walking through the palace of a former King of Calabar whose ambition
was to marry Queen Victoria (He built a palace and filled it with
things that he considered she would need when she became his bride) –
Ogolo has cut his teeth in antique appreciation. According to him,
“Antiques give a history and are relevant in the social anthropology
and modernism of any people.”

He was quick to
point out that some antiques are priceless, and so belong to the museum
as they tell important history and need to be kept for the public to
appreciate, never sold. To people who want to start collecting
antiques, he proffers that it is best to start by isolating old
buildings, farmsteads, and agrarian settlements.

“When you have isolated these places, then you get a big van, put some cash in your pockets and hit the road,” he said.

He also remarked
that sometimes finding antiques boils down to natural instincts.
Following this, he emphasised the importance of authenticating whatever
has been found to see if it meets the age criteria of an antique (at
least 50 years old), before its value can be determined.

Nigeria at 50 and the other matters

“If we have a
showcase of Nigerian contemporary antiques, we will be able to tell a
visual history without going far with words. It would be a
chronological story of Nigeria. For example, we have fought most of our
battles within, so the weapons collected will show how basically we
have self-destructed,” Ogolo said.

The curator pointed
out that it is not only about selling, but also about keeping things
that have been handed down from generations for sentimental reasons. He
said that some people keep it as a statement of social status.

“Collecting is a
way of reinventing one’s self, as it is believed to increase ones
status. Some collect for sheer beauty, or for the sake of the
craftsmanship and the material used.”

He summarised it succinctly by making this appeal: “Please do not
destroy objects of antique value. If you do not know what to do with
it, please give it to me.”

Someone once asked
me to respond to the interesting question: Is Nigerian English the same
as Nigerian pidgin? My response: there is pidgin and many variants are
spoken in Nigeria. And there is English and many variants are spoken in
Nigeria. Debating the idea of one Nigerian English is as useful as
saying that there is ONE recipe for cooking egusi soup (yes, soup, NOT
sauce!). There are ways of speaking, and ways of expression that are
distinct to various sections of Nigeria. And it is often possible to
tell where someone is from based on how they handle the English
language. Some of the best masters of English are from Nigeria. And
some of the worst are from Nigeria. What is mildly hilarious is that it
is the latter that usually spends precious time correcting the former.
There is something about some Nigerians and the attainment of knowledge
or whatever; they like to wear it loudly like a Rolex watch, and when
someone is around, they tap it so that someone can tell they have it.
Some would say it is an inferiority complex.

American academics
and intellectuals tend to be quiet about their accomplishments. Do not
make any assumptions about your neighbour working in her backyard, She
may have three PhDs from Ivy league schools and may be secretly
building the next generation nuclear reactor. Just call her Jane. And
when you read her academic papers, they are highly accessible, while
still retaining the requisite substance. American academics tend to be
considerate of the target audience. In contrast, my people love
bombast. I don’t know where that bad habit came from. Ironically, they
are the ones that really need to break it down for the “masses.” Before
you clamber on to any Internet forum that houses Nigerian
intellectuals, please say your prayers, take some painkillers, drink a
quart of cognac and then, only then, start reading. What some may
regard as ‘Nigerian’ English is merely the product of a dysfunction:
bad grammar posing as our national anthem. Go read Goodluck Jonathan’s
babble on his Facebook status. Once you recover from the shock of
reading Presidential atrocious grammar, then you will understand my
frustration.

Please do not die
until you have read as many Onitsha Market literature pamphlets as you
can. The experience will remind you of some of our Nigerian
intellectual elite. In particular, please read Ogali A. Ogali’s
hilarious play Veronica My Daughter, featuring the great master of
bombast, Bomber Billy. Next, you must read Peter “Pan” Enahoro’s
seminal: How to be a Nigerian. That pamphlet is a hoot. Please, please,
please, find a copy and enjoy. It was written almost 50 years ago; not
much about the stereotypical Nigerian has changed other than the
Internet is here and they are all now on Facebook entertaining the
world. Some of the best masters of the English language reside in
Nigeria. When they relocate to America, listening to them the first
couple of months is sheer joy. Give them six months, in the zest to
become the Americans they will never be, the tongue becomes tied up in
knots, they acquire atrocious grammar habits from who knows where, and
guess what, when they visit home, they are “hailed” or envied for
losing their ‘Nigerian accent’.

It is actually the
case that several of our writers were already wired to write nonsense
at home. They come abroad and mangle their already atrocious literary
style with additional bad habits. Then they call this new product
scholarship. I disagree. What some of our writers call academic writing
is simply bad writing. There is no need in my opinion to deploy bombast
where a few or blessed silence would do. From the beginning of colonial
history, our people have been drawn to big words.

Back to Bomber
Billy in Ogali A. Ogali’s Veronica My Daughter. Bomber Billy was the
caricature of the bombastic Nigerian. Here is what Bomber Billy has to
say upon sustaining a bad fall: “As I was descending from a declivity
yesterday with such an excessive velocity, I suddenly lost the centre
of my gravity and was precipitated on the macadised thoroughfare.” He
goes on to assure concerned onlookers thusly: “Don’t put your mind
under perturbation. But after my precipitation whereby my incunabula
got soaked, it was made incumbent on me to divest my habiliments which
were saturated as a result of my immersion in the rivulet.” When asked
if he had gone for treatment, he responded thusly: “I don’t care what
the Medical Officer said but I assure you that this is nothing but a
cocified agency, antipasimodicala producing nothing but voscandum,
miscandum and tiscono. This medicine that I have in hand is called the
GRAND ELECTRICAL PUNCHUTICAL DEMOSCANDUM which cures all diseases
incident to humanity.”

Our writers are starting to be really innovative. In the blogs,
websites, and on Facebook, they are showing us the true face of their
creativity, using the new media to create a fusion of voice, text, and
dance in the oral tradition of our ancestors. I salute them.

Abubakar Gimba is a
popular Northern Nigeria writer based in Minna, Niger State. The former
banker and author of about 13 works including novels, short stories,
poetry and essays, chats with NEXT about his writing career and related
issues.

Some of those who
have read Abubakar Gimba’s ‘Letter to the Unborn Child’ (Kraftgriots,
2008) believe it is a veiled rejoinder to Chinua Achebe’s ‘The Problem
With Nigeria’. Critics suggest that Gimba unduly defends leaders
against accusations that they are the cause of Nigeria’s current state
of underdevelopment.

But naturally,
Gimba does not see it this way. His central argument in the work, he
says, is that both leaders and followers are part of Nigeria’s
problems.

“It’s not a
rejoinder, but a take-off from where I thought we ought to refocus our
attention. There is truth in what [Chinua Achebe] is saying, but I
think we should broaden our horizon and look at issues from another
perspective.

What the book was
trying to do is to make all of us think and look at ourselves. We say
leadership is the problem, but leaders are people we know, grow up
together with, and criticised the previous government together. Where
do leaders come from? They don’t fall from somewhere; they emerge from
amidst us, the people.

“So, we should look
at the society. If you uphold some personal values, when you get into a
position, you will be able to effect changes because you have the
willpower. It’s not really the leader; the prophets were sent to
deliver particular messages and they were leaders. But if the people
hadn’t followed them, they wouldn’t have succeeded. Jesus [was here]
hundreds of years ago but if people don’t listen to his words, he won’t
have followers now.

“If you see
somebody leading, you have to make your own contribution to make sure
that, yes, what is being preached about works, because he alone, no
matter how good, cannot accomplish it. It seems we are not convinced
about what our leaders tell us, or we are hypocrites.”

Farewell to fiction

His concern with
the state of the society, the former president of the Association of
Nigerian Authors (ANA) adds, made him shelve fiction for essays.

“I think our
situation is so desperate that there is no time to fictionalise. When
you are an old person, you better start talking about reality. The
young ones can fantasise or fictionalise, but the old have no time to
do that. They must say the truth as they see it. I have written fiction
as a young man but now, it is better to do essays because we are in a
very bad situation.”

The limited time and the need to say what needs to be said concisely, he discloses, lured him into poetry.

“Poetry is
beautiful because it enables you to say a lot in very few words and it
encapsulates your emotions, its intensity and wit. With that, you‘ll
get across and in the process, unburden yourself. You get a lot of
ideas bottled up but until you write, you feel unsatisfied.

But once you’ve
written, you feel happy. It’s like talking to somebody; you have to
complain to somebody. A writer complains to his paper using his pen so
that people will listen. The best form now, if you are in a hurry, is
poetry.”

Unburdening himself

‘Trail of Sacrifice’, published in 1985, is the first novel by the Economist, trained at the Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria.

“I really wanted to
unburden myself. I felt very strongly about certain issues. A very
fresh graduate, I was beginning to enter the real society from the
insulated campus life,” he begins. “When I was in the university and
secondary school, I read History. I also read Ngugi’s ‘Weep not Child’.
It’s an historical novel, kind of, of the Kenyans; about the Mau-Mau
revolt. We didn’t have that kind of colonial experience but all the
same, we were in a particular situation that I thought was harmful and
we could fictionalise. That’s why I thought I could just unburden
myself a little,” he said.

He proceeded to
write a second, ‘Witnesses to Tears’ in 1986 because, “At that time,
one, I wanted to do more. Secondly, I was testing my commitment to
writing. I could fictionalise values, society and things not going the
way they should in the society. It was also to prove that I didn’t
intend to be a one book author.”

Message of change

The member of the
Literature Committee of the Nigeria Prize for Literature explains why
he prefers committed writing to writing for entertainment.

“In a society like
ours, we believe a writer is trying to create an audience, but do you
create audience just to entertain them? Have we reached that stage of
writing just to entertain when we know ideas rule the society? It is a
privilege we Nigerian writers have and when you have a privilege, you
must use it properly. For me, entertaining people is not the top
priority for a writer.

A writer should be
committed to something and, therefore, should have a message. Even if
he is writing about dancing, he should write with a view of what does
dancing do to the psyche of the people in a situation of high
depression or debilitating economic environment? Can it give them
relief; is it better for them to dance than to go and take drugs so
that they can be happy?

Every writer, in
our kind of situation, it is important you try to; I wouldn’t say you
must, no. But you should try to have a message of change; something
that will improve the lives of the people. When people talk about
rebranding, I think Nigerian writers have been in the forefront of
trying to change this country long before anybody brought the word,
‘rebranding’.”

Beyond expectations

The former executive director at Union Bank and United Bank for Africa has no more mountains to climb in his writing career.

“I set out to make
myself happy and God has helped me beyond what I anticipated. Secondly,
along the way, you begin to pick certain ideas. If I’m doing this,
others can as well do it and we tried to encourage the young ones.

In any case, from
the word go, my audience was really the young people. And in terms of
language, right from when I started writing, I made special effort to
ensure that the language is accessible to people in secondary school.
If you want to change people, you have to begin at the age when people
begin to form ideas. So, I thought if they read some of my books, they
should be able to understand and get the message. They don’t have to
agree with me, but they should get the message and I think I’ve
achieved that.”

Restricted audience

The author of some
13 works written in English and guest at a workshop on writing in
indigenous languages, why hasn’t he written in his native Nupe?

“It’s a personal
belief, but as you are doing it, you must have a vision of what you
want to achieve. I haven’t thought about it because I felt if I write
in Nupe that means I want only my Nupe people to understand. I could
write in my indigenous language if I feel it is going extinct and I
want to revive it. That way, it’s a goal.

“Even if it’s 10 people that understand it, I could be fighting that
it should be taught in schools and I will write books for it. It
depends on the goals, but for me, there are certain messages to get
across that I assume are transnational in nature. If I write in Nupe,
the audience will be restricted.”