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Ogaga Ifowodo
literally stumbled on poetry writing during his fourth form as a
student of Federal Government College, Warri, when a senior student
requested that he writes a poem for the school’s festival of arts and
culture. For someone who had thought to himself unable to “string two
words together,” it must have been an inspiring surprise that his poem,
‘Ill Wind,’ won a joint first prize in the competition.

Ifowodo has not
relented since that first literary accomplishment. Author of three
poetry collections and an assistant professor at Texas State
University, the writer is back in Nigeria for what he calls a
“Homecoming.” He said, in reference to his poetry readings, which will
be taking place in Federal Government College, Warri, his alma mater;
and Oleh, his hometown: “Charity begins at home. It may not have
started there for me, but I might as well get home now – Oleh has a
right to hear back from me.”

A former customer

In keeping with the
homecoming theme of his current visit to Nigeria, Ifowodo decided to
visit the Ikoyi Prisons, where he was held as a political prisoner in
1998, under the regime of the military dictator, General Sani Abacha. I
was invited to tag along, as was Ayo Obe, lawyer and former president,
Civil Liberties Organisation.

We were admitted
into the yard of Ikoyi Prisons, after brief interviews regarding the
purpose of our visit. Obe did the introduction, gamely introducing
Ifowodo to the prison head, Muhammed Sidi, as “your former customer.”
When queried about his time in prison and his reason for his visit,
Ifowodo said it was for the purpose of “recollecting memories,” which
had become fuzzy in the years since his detention.

Our party was
handed over to Adeosun, a prison officer, who proceeded to take us on a
tour of the yard and its appurtenances. We visited the Education
Centre, donated by the Muharram Sisters. We also got to see the clinic,
where formerly there had been none. It is a well run clinic, with drugs
donated by churches and charities, where before, drugs had been scarce
to come by. Seeing the free movement of inmates – both convicted and
awaiting trial – when before, there had been restrictions to movement
within the yard, was heartening for Ifowodo. “It’s worlds apart from
what it was before. When I was there, donated drugs were being sold
(privately) and wardens were stealing prisoners’ food,” he said.

The poet remembered
being incarcerated in a small cell with other inmates in a block
bearing the name ‘Redemption Kingdom.’ Surprisingly, however, though
the prison attendants were very obliging of our requests, Ifowodo did
not ask to see his old cell. “I was satisfied with seeing the blocks
and yard. I can still picture the cell in my mind; the last room, a
small one, with eight of us in it,” he explained.

When asked about
the prison visit in the context of “homecoming,” his reply was a
slightly outraged, “Let’s not speak about homecoming please, not in
regard to prisons.” Nonetheless, the prison evoked vivid memories for
the poet, who observed that, “Its smell and feel came back to me; even
though I wasn’t able to look around extensively.”

Concluding about
the visit, the poet drew on the example of Nelson Mandela’s visit to
Robben Island, where he had been incarcerated for 18 of his 27 years in
prison. “A way of addressing a trauma is to revisit the place and the
moment in time. It is good to go back and look, with the eyes of
freedom, at the place where you were held on the unjust command of a
dictator,” he said.

Odes to the Delta

Ifowodo’s published
works are: ‘Homeland and Other Poems’, a 1993 ANA first prize winner;
‘Madiba,’ which includes a 27-sonnet poem about Mandela; and ‘The Oil
Lamp’, a 1001 line poem focused on the crises ridden, oil-rich Niger
Delta, where the poet hails from. On the cover photography of the last
book, showing gas explosions in the region, Ifowodo elaborates: “The
flares are dangerous, but in the absence of electricity, they are the
oil lamps of the Niger Delta.”

On the reason for
the precise number of lines in the poem, he responded with feeling, “In
1998, there were massive explosions of pipelines on Jesse. 1000 people
were officially said to have died. So I decided on 1001, to account for
the unrecorded deaths or those who were injured or maimed. I wanted to
revisit the flash-points of Ogoni, the flattening of Odi, and the Jesse
occurrence, and capture the excuses and rationalisations, falsehoods
and arrogance of government.”

Explaining what he
terms the accessibility (rather than simplicity) of the language and
style of ‘The Oil Lamp’, the poet said, “I do not subscribe to poetry
that sets out to be difficult, as if that is a mark of poetic genius.
Many simple poems are profound. We should not mistake accessibility for
simplicity and obscurity for profundity.”

Motivated to poetry
by life generally, Ifowodo gives his inspirations as “things that are
not as they should be, beauty, social injustice, and moments that make
you see something anew.”

Poetry is, however,
not all-sufficient for his need for artistic expression; and he is
currently working on his memoirs – an account of his run-in with the
State Security Service and his time in as a political detainee.
Excerpts have already been published in journals with titles like‘The
Travel Commissar,’ ‘My Own Room,’ and ‘Word Games in Prison.’

The seasoned poet
is also exploring fiction, having written a short story, ‘The
Treasonable Parrot’, which is expected to be published later this year
in a special African edition of AGNI, an US literary journal. Motivated
by this reception of his first fictional prose work, he commented that
“With the enthusiastic acceptance of ‘The Treasonable Parrot’, I am
going to publish the three fiction drafts I have,” he said.

Half the life of a writer

The poet describes
himself as “living half the life of a writer,” having spent the ‘other
half’ as a lawyer, an activist with the Civil Liberties Organisation
(CLO), a Ph.D student of Cornell University, US; and now, a ‘teacher’
of writing with Texas State University. He refers to his university
post as, “my day job, that which pays the rent.”

I asked about his
decision to study law in the University of Benin, following his
revelation that the discipline does not interest him. “I was not the
perfect Law student, but I could have been a good lawyer if that had
been my ambition,” he offers. His uncle, a man of science, had said to
him before he was admitted into the university, “Grammar won’t feed
you, get a profession!”

“Unfortunately, the
trouble was that I had no head for Science or Math. I was totally
seduced by literature,” recalled Ifowodo, who resorted to the
compromise of studying Law.

Intellectual activism

After a short stint
with a Law firm, Ifowodo joined the CLO, where he worked for 8 years;
researching, compiling and reporting human rights abuses in the
country, as well as advocacy and appearing occasionally in court for
pro bono cases. He eventually decided to singularly pursue his dream of
being a writer, though he’d been writing on the side all the while, and
had published a few works. Ifowodo enrolled for a Masters in Fine Arts
(MFA) programme with Cornell University, during which, according to
him, “I got increasingly stimulated and enrolled for a Ph.D.”

Activism resulted
in his status as a political detainee of Nigeria’s last military
regime, but now seems to have been put on the back burner. Ifowodo, who
had been involved in activism since his student days at the University
of Benin as a member of National Association of Nigerian Students
(NANS) and secretary of his school’s Student Union, reflected on the
shift: “I call it intellectual activism now; one can advocate change in
as many ways as possible. Distance is the major reason why I cannot be
involved as directly as I was. But I still do it in my writings and
whenever I have the opportunity to speak in public.”

Exile and homecoming

Author of the
famous poem ‘God Punish You, Lord Lugard,’ Ifowodo expressed an
intention to come back to settle in Nigeria, asserting that, “I never
went to exile. It’s not a matter of if I’ll return; it’s a matter of
when.” At my attempt to draw attention to the difference in the
standard of living in his hometown in the Niger Delta and his
residential town of Texas, both of which are oil-rich geographical
locations, he attributed the disparity in the evidence of oil wealth to
the ownership of the resource: government in Nigeria; private
individuals who would own their land, drill oil, and pay taxes to the
government in Texas. He also blamed the underdevelopment in the Niger
Delta on the “kleptocracy of government.”

During the
interview, which was interspersed with phone calls from Flomat Books
(the organisation hosting Ifowodo’s readings in Oleh and Warri on July
24 and 31 respectively), I gathered that the activist and lawyer would
be receiving a sort of hero’s welcome in his hometown. “My homecoming
in Oleh is looking to be bigger than I expected,” Ifowodo confirmed
expectantly. Hopefully, the experience might encourage him to return
‘home’ sooner, rather than later.

Ogaga Ifowodo reads in Oleh, Delta State, on July 24 and in Warri on July 31.

To many Nigerians
and others across the world, Nobel Laureate Wole Soyinka is a mentor
and role model from whom they draw inspiration. Disciples and admirers
of the man also referred to as Kongi always seize every opportunity to
celebrate him though he rarely attends such events. The occasion of his
76th birthday on Tuesday, July 13, gave people an opportunity to
express their love for the poet, novelist, dramatist and pro-democracy
activist at the MUSON Centre, Onikan, Lagos.

It was an event
where veteran stage and film actors dressed as characters in Soyinka’s
plays walked the red carpet in honour of the defender of justice. The
parade preceded the premiere of ‘Preemptive’, written by Niyi Coker and
directed by Segun Ojewuyi as part of an international cultural exchange
programme and world tour. The play had earlier been staged in Barbados
and the UK.

Colourful parade

Though 76 artists
were hyped to feature, fewer than that number appeared on the red
carpet. Those that did, however, gave a good account of themselves with
lines from the plays. Actor and musician who has recently dabbled into
art, Jimi Solanke, appeared as Chief Erinjobi in ‘Camwood on the
Leaves’. Albert Akaeze, who played the blind beggar in ‘Swamp Dwellers’
in a National Theatre/National Troupe of Nigeria production of the play
last year filled the same role on Tuesday.

Actors Muyiwa
Odukale, Tunde Adeyemo, Taiwo Obileye and Olu Okekanye appeared as
characters from ‘Madmen and Specialists’. Academic and director, Tunde
Awosanmi, was Gudrum, the Scandinavian journalist in ‘A Play of Giants’
while Tunji Olugbodi was Field Marshal Kamini in the same play. Jane
Bryce, attired in a simple Ankara skirt and blouse was Segilola in
‘Kongi’s Harvest’ while filmmaker Tunde Kelani, holding an antique
camera, appeared as Photographer in the same play. Poet Uzor Maxim
Uzoatu was the frightful Forest Head in ‘Forest of a Thousand Demons.’

The first, second
and third prize winners of the essay competition held as part of
Project Preemptive, Gbenga Adeniji, Lawrence Wakdet and Emmanuel Ugokwe
also had their minutes under the klieglights, as did the cast of
‘Preemptive’. The crowd, comprising school children and adults had
their first glimpse of Rachel Hastings, Christopher Collins, Tania
Coambs, Bashal Evans, Racquel McKenzie, Kit Ryan and Cortez Johnson on
the red carpet before seeing them in the play.

Organisers of the
project, Z-mirage Multimedia Ltd, whose chief executive, Teju Kareem,
directed affairs from the background, saved the best for the last with
Soyinka’s ‘Death and the King’s Horseman’. Toyin Osinaike, who played
Ireke in Femi Osofisan’s English adaptation of D.O Fagunwa’s ‘Ireke
Onibudo’, titled ‘Adventures of the Sugarcane Man’ came on the red
carpet as Olunde. Wale Adeduro and Bisi Marinho were Mr and Mrs
Pilkings while Kelvin Ushi was Joseph. Editor, Guardian on Sunday,
Jahman Anikulapo, appeared as Sergeant Amusa and amused the crowd with
his twists and turns. He later engaged in a quarrel with Iyaloja
(Gloria Rhodes Nash). The icing on the cake was the trio of Kola Oyewo
(Elesin); Peter Badejo (Olohun Iyo) and Ojetunji Ojeyemi whose
scintillating bata dance steps elicited applause from the audience.

Loaded play

A networking
session at the foyer by guests including Dejumo Lewis, dressed regally
as an Oba like he used to be in ‘Village Headmaster’ and a real king,
the Fadesewa of Simawa, Oba Gbenga Sonuga, poet Odia Ofeimun, singer
Ara, Segun Sofowote and others preceded the staging of ‘Preemptive’.

As promised, the
play, written and directed by the two US-based theatre artists, infused
technology sensibly to add razzmatazz to a poignant story. The
beautiful and lush set by Bobbie Bonebrake was another plus to the
multi-thematic play set in New York and Zanzibar, East Africa.

Amongst other
issues, the loaded play which opens with a call to prayers by the
muezzin examines inter-racial relationships as seen in the life of the
African Ahmed (Cortez Johnson) and American, Vivian (Tania Coambs),
both trained psychologists in love and who are cohabiting. While the
duo sees nothing wrong in the set up, Uncle Ted (Christopher Collins)
feels differently. His typical Western mind can’t fathom a Black man
dating a white lady; talk less of an educated Black man.

He goes as far as
smelling the bed sheet to ascertain if Ahmed and Vivian have been
“shagging”. He is aghast when Ahmed tells him they are lovers and
rewards him with some blows. Ted also doesn’t believe that Ahmed knows
anything about computers. “Brother from East Africa, where did you
learn about computers?” he asks while interrogating Ahmed unlawfully.

Religion and corruption

Religious
intolerance, the cause of wars and crises across the globe, gets a
mention in ‘Preemptive’, with Uncle Ted’s equation of Islam with
terrorism. He describes praying in the Islamic way as a ‘terrorist act’
and contends that “praying in that Arabic shit makes people
uncomfortable.” Ted, displaying symptoms of a paranoid American wonders
why Ahmed didn’t return to Tanzania after his studies; why he is dating
an American; and why terrorists who are Muslims and who are promised
virgins in paradise, would hide explosives in their underpants. He is
further displeased that African Muslims have taken over the taxi
business at the airport, making getting cabs at the airport difficult
on Fridays.

Official
corruption, which the West makes noise about in Africa, is also present
in the US as what brings Ted, a retired police officer, to Vivian’s
apartment is to make her change her report on a case of police
brutality. Ted wants the police officer to change the report which
indicts some officers and which will likely affect the re-election bid
of the Mayor but Vivian will have none of it. When she asks him if he
wants her to lie, Ted replies glibly that it’s just “re-arranging the
facts.”

Expensive place

The breaking of
familial bonds occasioned by long sojourns abroad is also examined in
the play originally conceived in the summer of 2008 at a Black Writers
Lab at Indiana University, Bloomington. Twelve years away from home
destroys the bond between Ahmed and Aishatu (Racquel McKenzie), his
lover back in Zanzibar and Mama (Bashal Evans), his mother. The
alienating tendencies of technology, especially the cell phone which
Ahmed sends to Mama to enable them communicate better, is also
highlighted. Mama admits this when she says, “It’s supposed to keep us
together, why do I feel it’s taking him away from me?”

America, like a
number of migrants have realised, can be a lonely and expensive place
to live, like Ahmed tells his mother in one of his letters. The streets
are not paved with gold as some are made to believe and Ahmed
reiterates this in his first letter. “America is a very expensive
place; you have to pay for everything.” And all sojourns to America,
like Ahmed sadly finds out, don’t always end in joy.

Much has been said
of the warped justice system in the US and its bias against foreigners.
Sadly, things have become worse following the terrorist attacks of 2001
and subsequent attempts. Americans’ heightened sense of fear for
anything Islam or African following Abdul Mutallab’s December 2009
bombing attempt is highlighted in the play. Most importantly, the play
asks the question when is it right to engage in a preemptive strike
against a perceived threat which might not be there at the end of the
day?

What the audience have in ‘Preemptive’ is a great, haunting story
brought to life by skilled performers who used every part of their
body; expression, voice and gesture in the telling. Cortez, Collins and
Coambs, who have the major roles, are outstanding. But the others are
no pushovers either.

Segun Ojewuyi is
nostalgic about returning to the Nigerian stage after almost 15 years
of being away. The director of ‘Preemptive’, a play written by fellow
US sojourner, Niyi Coker, and which opened at the MUSON Centre, Lagos
and will be staged in Lagos, Calabar and Abuja discloses, “In those
years of being away, I have worked alongside some of the great minds of
modern theatre that I studied in Ibadan – Lloyd Richards, August Wilson
and Arthur Miller. I have worked in those major theatres of the world
that we dreamt about as undergraduates – The Everyman Theatre, Oregon
Shakespeare Theatre, Yale Repertory Theatre, Pittsburgh Public Theatre
and Kennedy Centre amongst others. In all these I was always drawing
from my essence as a Nigerian, a Yoruba man and an African. Though
there was always a hint of estrangement, I also always felt I was
serving as the essential bridge to the 21st century. In that sense, my
homeland Nigeria and I stayed intricately woven as in an ecstatic
dance.

“I have tried to
maintain contact with my friends and colleagues in the field.
Constantly, I hear people say that Nigerian theatre is dead. My first
reaction has always been no, Nigerian theatre is not to be confused
with the National Theatre or theatre in Lagos, Ibadan or Ile-Ife.
Nigerian theatre is a distinct aesthetic in which culture, history and
social ideals are to be found and given expression. So, I have
maintained that Nigerian theatre is an organism with the possibilities
for adaptations and mutation. It is not a stagnant, self-regurgitating
entity. It is a magnificent genie once let out of the bottle is never
contained or killed. It may experience a lull, but it is not dead.

“The performances
of Soyinka, Osofisan and Osanyin’s plays, the productions by Niyi
Coker, Esiaba Irobi, Awam Amkpa, Femi Elujobi, Biyi Bandele Thomas and
mine outside Nigeria are more frequent now than, say, in the 70s, 80s
or 90s. Our collective aesthetics are all legitimate children of a
living Nigerian theatrical tradition. What we are doing with this tour
is to prove that point. Niyi Coker, the playwright and I are Nigerians
as well as Americans. These two realities and cultures are reflected in
our production.

“I cannot wait to
be in Nigeria again. I cannot wait to see my friends. I cannot wait to
celebrate the gifts received from my departed mentors and friends —
Uncle Bola Ige, Bode Osanyin, Hakeem Shitta, Afolabi Alaja Browne,
Rufus Orisayomi, Wale Ogunyemi and many others. I also want to be able
to give a good account of my absence to others like Dapo Adelugba,
Segun Olusola, Abayomi Barber, Olu Okekanye, Ojetunji Ojeyemi — those
who took me by the hand and gently led me through the secret places of
our invaluable culture and traditions.”

Shared cultural experiences

Ojewuyi, a
professor of Drama at Southern Illinois University, Carbondale,
explains that the first objective of ‘Preemptive’ is to, “open up a
slice of the world that I know to this [cast]. We are all hopeful that
we can share and experience the linkages between Nigerian and American
cultures, our performing arts and artistic expressions as agents for
social mobilisation and development. A focused engagement with peoples
of the different countries and cultures in unfiltered urban and village
settings. We look forward to positive encounters with the subtle and
sometimes not-so-subtle existential similarities, between Nigerians and
Americans. The performance of an American play, presenting a slice of
American life and culture we hope will generate some pertinent
feedbacks.”

Healthy excitement

‘Preemptive’
features a cast of eight with six of these coming from the US. Ojewuyi,
the director of Wole Soyinka’s ‘Death and The King’s Horseman’ staged
by the St. Louis Black Repertory in 2008 describes the cast of
‘Preemptive’ as “an interesting mix of performers – all graduates of
Southern Illinois University, Carbondale and associates of the Africana
Theater Lab.” Some, he adds, are recent graduates while “others are
seasoned professional actors.” There also scholar-artists including
Niyi Coker, the Desmond Lee Professor at the University of Missouri,
Saint Louis, performance poets Chris Collins and Rachel Hastings,
director Tania Coambs, actor Basha Evans and scenic designer Bobbie
Bonebrake. “There is a healthy excitement in the company – the first is
to present their gift of artistry to the world and wait to see what the
audience’s response will be to our performances, and the second is
encounter and experience the visit to Nigeria,” he adds.

Poetics of panic

Though
‘Preemptive’ which was conceived in 2008 by Coker at a Black Writers
workshop at Indiana University in Bloomington appears to be abstract
conceptually, the director assures that audiences won’t have problems
getting the message. His directorial approach, he says, “is informed by
what I have defined as the poetics of panic. Theatre must entertain,
engage and inform. It must come with a certain degree of urgency – an
urgency of need – the urgency to express oneself in celebration of life
or (and particularly) in the face of any form of oppression. Nation
states and the cabals of corruptive power must be confronted with art
when they challenge humanity’s inalienable rights in the pursuit of
happiness. Audiences will be taken beyond the realistic to the imagined
and perceived. We will deploy the marginal plains of theatrical
illusion to reveal the best and the worst in us as humans.

“Ahmed and Vivian
– the two characters who drive the plot in ‘Preemptive’, come from two
different worlds. The differences are in culture, religion, political
history and even race. But their essential humanities connect in the
deepest places. There is something to say for exchanges of goodwill
across man-made boundaries. A simple story of love and romance could
actually help. We are playing such themes of goodwill and
reconciliation through theatre.”

‘Preemptive’ is at the National Theatre Lagos on July 16, then tours the following cities: Asaba, Calabar, Abuja, Ife.

Doreen Baingana’s
collection of short stories Tropical Fish examines Uganda and the
Diaspora in black and white, with history graying in the fading
distance. Idi Amin was a deadly buffoon. Up to 400,000 people may have
perished under his reign of lunacy. Amin’s atrocities were perhaps
dwarfed by Milton Obote’s. Then there is AIDS. Up to 800,000 people may
have died already. Amin and Obote died in peace in exile without any
credible attempts to hold them accountable. So much for justice. In
‘Tropical Fish’, Baingana says virtually nothing about Obote’s evil
reign. This is baffling. How do you forget? Should fiction not document
the lived history? Baingana says in the book that Idi Amin gave Asians
72 hours to leave Uganda in 1972. They were actually given 90 days
because Amin claimed that Asians had the habit of giving Ugandans 90
days credit.

The story, ‘Green
Stones’ is a delightful conversation about relationships, marriages,
and life. In Christine, the main character’s world, alcoholism and
infidelity hold sway in the form of Taata, her father, a mean drunk,
the sauced burden of her mother, Maama. It is a look at family
relationships, warts and all from the eyes of a child, a revealing
exploration of familiar issues: infidelity, alcoholism, the extended
family, patriarchy – all within the stifling confines of a traditional
marriage. ‘Green Stones’ is written with all of Baingana’s literary
muscle. Tart luscious prose bear nice turns of phrases and they delight
the palate.

‘Passion’ and ‘A
Thank-You Note’ are the only previously unpublished stories in the
book. No wonder. They are awful. They sit in the centre of the book,
smug, like badly cooked rice, hoping to be saved by great stew.
‘Passion’ is an imperfectly designed, puzzling story leaning on the
pretence of magic realism. ‘A Thank-You Note’ is an overwrought
introspection on AIDS. Baingana tries – and fails – to put herself in
the mind of an AIDS sufferer. The story does serve a useful purpose:
the inchoate main character Rosa is mercifully killed off by bad
writing. ‘Hunger’ and ‘First Kiss’ are rambling, pointless exercises in
self-absorption.

You must read
‘Lost in Los Angeles’ and ‘Questions of Home’. They are thoughtful
reflections on immigration, the immigrant, exile and homecoming. One is
taken by the unresolved pain and anguish that are unearthed in these
stories. There are some good observations about the impact of
technological advances on community and relationships. The stories
spoke to me. Nonetheless, the immigrant of colour in Baingana’s book is
painfully self-conscious. There are strong hints of self-absorption and
narcissism. For Baingana, even lovemaking is an opportunity for deep
introspection in search of meaning where none probably exists.
Sometimes folks just want to get laid.

The book’s
attitude to sex is fascinating; sex is described in near indifferent
terms – a few minutes of heaving and pushing. The book makes a grand
failure of exploring sensuality and is hugely successful at remaining
mum on the sum total of our sexuality. It is a poorly kept secret that
same-sex relationships in Africa’s boarding schools are common.
Baingana gingerly navigates the fringes of tradition as she rides
around on wheels of modernity.

Baingana is
unsuccessful at being more than one character, Christine. The other
sisters, Patti and Rosa are merely afterthoughts. They are identical
triplets cannibalised by Christine’s strong character and weak writing.
Baingana asserts Uganda’s otherness as she carefully separates Ugandan
words from English words, like a cook separating stones from beans. To
her credit, she does not provide a glossary of Ugandan terms. Yes. Let
the reader do the research. ‘Tropical Fish’ is slightly burdened by
some editing issues. Baingana should shop around for a more organised
publisher next time.

Africans are
victims of uncritical acculturation. Questions of identity abound: Who
are we? Who should we be? Why are we the ones who keep trying to be
like the other? What does exile mean in the age of Facebook? Who really
leaves home these days? Who stays home these days? Where is home?
Expecting Baingana’s book to answer these questions is like asking the
slide rule to compete with the iPad. Our intellectuals have no answers;
they are too busy navel gazing, whining about racism and drinking the
white man’s best wines. See, they wail to the West, we are human beings
too; we eat ice cream!

Baingana’s stories are sleepy, like passengers on a red-eye bus to
the city struggling to come alive at every junction manned by thieving
policemen. We see the self-loathing that Western education confers on
Africans as they flee anything remotely African or indigenous. In the
fashion, in the food, in the literature, Africa desires to be white.
Africa is turmoil but the book ends on a hopeful note. The exile begins
the long process of re-introduction to her ancestral land. Culture
shock streaks out of cultural attitudes to work and life. Still, she is
here to stay, says the book. Did she stay? I suspect that “Christine”
is back home in Washington DC, subversively pinching cantaloupes in
farmers’ markets. And the beat goes on.

Photographer
Akintunde Akinleye, the first Nigerian prize winner in the prestigious
World Press Photo (Netherlands 2007) is among 30 shortlisted candidates
for the third annual National Arts Competition. The competition,
‘Chronicles of a Great Nation at 50,’ is being organised by the African
Artists’ Foundation (AAF) in partnership with Nigerian Breweries PLC.

In a press
conference held on July 13, Ageni Yusuf, Corporate Affairs Adviser,
Nigerian Breweries PLC, represented by Vivian Ikem, Public Affairs
Manager, NB PLC, announced that a final exhibition of the works of the
shortlisted candidates will open on Wednesday, July 21 at the Civic
Centre, Victoria Island, Lagos.

“The winners of the competition will be announced that day, and their prizes presented to them,” Yusuf said.

The competition had
made no age restrictions and, since the call for entries in March 2010,
organisers have received over 300 works from “budding and emerging
artists”.

The entries were in a wide range of visual art genres including: New Media, Photography, Video, Painting and Sculpture.

According to Zainab
Ashadu, coordinator of the competition, unlike the previous editions,
“this year, three overall winners will be chosen from any of the
genres.”

The prizes are 1.5
million Naira, I million Naira, and Five hundred thousand Naira for the
first, second and third placed winners respectively.

A week-long
training workshop will also be organised for the 30 shortlisted
candidates, during which they will be taught by local and foreign
experts who will be invited to facilitate the workshop. The idea, Yusuf
said, “is to facilitate the development of talents, so that apart from
the prizes they may win, they will also gain in terms of knowledge and
skill.”

As regards the sale
of shortlisted works during the exhibition, which will be open to all
members of the public, Director, African Artists’ Foundation, Azu
Nwagbogu, leaves the subject to the prerogative of the artists,
assuring that there is no obligation on the part of the candidates.

“We do not own [the
works], and do not want to own them. The artists own their works, so if
they want to sell it, it is up to them. If we can broker a sale for
them, that will be fine, but that decision is entirely up to them.”

The judges, who
will be deciding the winning entries, were not revealed. As according
to Ikem, “The winners are yet to emerge, so at this point, we can’t be
open about the people who constitute the jury.” On the criteria to be
fulfilled by winning works though, Nwagbogu opined that, “Originality
is one thing that should stand out. It is the main standard for winning
art.”

Addressing the
query concerning the shortlisting of a seemingly established
photographer of the status of Akinleye, whose works have been exhibited
in Washington, Los Angeles, New Mexico, Lagos, Amsterdam, Graz and
Madrid, in a competition specifically targeted at budding and emerging
talents, Nwagbogu said, “As far as I know, Akintunde Akinleye hasn’t
achieved the reputation of a George Cole. He has won an award, but as
far as I know, he is emerging and hasn’t had a solo exhibition yet.”

However, Akinleye
is not the only wave-making artist on the shortlisted. Also contending
for coveted prizes in the competition are: Osogbo artist Sangodare
Ajala, Stanley Dudu, Lucy Azubuike, Adolphus Opara, Taye Idahor and
Jude Anogwih.

Nwagbogu concluded
the press briefing by expressing AAF’s appreciation to Nigerian
Breweries PLC “not only for financial contribution but also for its
investment in time and commitment” in the annual arts competition since
its first edition in 2008.

Studio Visit returns next week.

When Nse Ikpe-Etim
played Omoze, fiery wife to a philandering husband (the usual suspect,
Ramsey Tokunbo Noah) in the 2008 Emem Isong hit, ‘Reloaded’, little did
she know that the character would fetch her instant fame. She
immediately struck a chord with viewers, especially the female folk,
who responded with empathy.

Not only is
‘Reloaded’ her most talked about movie to date, it earned her a
nomination for Best Actress in a Leading Role at the African Movie
Academy Awards (AMAA) a year later (Funke Akindele won the award, for
‘Jenifa’). After a 13-year hiatus from the scene, the leggy actress
bounced back with a sterling performance which, in her own words,
surpassed her expectations. “I had an opportunity to see the script
before anyone else, so I knew about the story line,” she says of
‘Reloaded’. “It was not the role I wanted, but when I was given [it], I
only prayed that the director (Isong) will not have my head because I
knew I was really rusty. I had not done anything in a while, but I
guess I delivered. Then I did ‘Guilty Pleasures’.”

The ambience of the
Swe Bar & Lounge on Lagos Island, where this impromptu interview
holds, is serene, with only pockets of people in some corners, yet the
Akwa-Ibom born actress does not go around unnoticed. As soon as she
steps in a few fans recognise her and then a male fan walks up to her,
hugs her, and says, “Oh, you are so beautiful!” Embarrassed, she
mutters “thank you.” At first glance, she does not come across as an
‘in your face’ actress, yet a conversation with her is a roller-coaster
ride, as her assertive nature and storytelling prowess kick in.

Daddy’s girl

As the first child
in a close-knit family of 6 children, the actress was at an early age
entrusted with the responsibility of looking after her younger ones. “I
learnt to read at an early age because my daddy would not let me read
what girls my age were reading, so I grew up really early. I started
reading Sidney Sheldon when I was about 11 or so. I had one doll; I
also had a dog and a canary. I grew up reading books much more than I
watched TV.”

As a child, she
knew she would end up in the arts but her banker-father, like many
Nigerian parents, would not hear anything of that because he wanted her
in the sciences. Ikpe-Etim was a step closer to reading her dream
course – Theatre Arts – after her father’s death, but she still had one
more hurdle to cross: her mum, a teacher.

“My mum filled my
Joint Admission and Matriculation Board (JAMB) form for Law but I tore
it up, went to my dad’s friend, and begged him for money (told him I
didn’t have money to buy JAMB form). I bought the JAMB form, and then I
filled in Theatre Arts (laughs). Mum found out a year later; I was
already studying Theatre Arts at the University of Calabar (UNICAL).
There was nothing she could do, but she has been supportive.”

Nse enters Nollywood

As one of the few
actresses who starred in the early Nollywood flicks, Ikpe-Etim’s foray
into movies began in 1995 upon graduation from the university, when she
appeared in ‘Venom of Justice’ as an extra. She was then cast in ‘The
Scars of Womanhood’ – as an extra, but as a friend to the lead actress,
Kate Henshaw. Ikpe-Etim later featured in other movies, including
‘Rampage’ and ‘Inheritance’, before she left the scene in search of
bigger challenges.

The search

As a self-confessed
perfectionist, the actress has spent her life searching for greener
pastures in various disciplines. She tried her hands out at banking but
left because, “It was a bit too much and stifling for me, and I
couldn’t handle it. I was in banking for three and half years; in two
banks.” A love for fashion then led her into the fashion industry “as a
back end.” “I sewed lots of things, clothed men for a while, and worked
for an establishment as their brand and marketing director, and then I
left.” With a childhood love for cooking, Ikpe-Etim turned her culinary
expertise into an income generating business, launching a catering
outfit in Abuja.

Now back in the
Nollywood fold, she’s convinced this is where she belongs. “I came back
to the industry two years ago because I think I had tried everything
and found out that my heart and soul lay here in Nollywood. After
‘Reloaded,’ I discovered that I should come back to Nollywood. I was
literally forced to do the role by Emem Isong, so I did it. She was
like ‘you want me to call someone else from Lagos when you are here in
Abuja? (the movie was shot in the Federal Capital Territory). It’s up
your street…’ So I did it.”

Steamy roles

During her active
years, Eucharia Anunobi was dubbed Nigeria’s Sharon Stone on account of
her steamy roles. These days, she seems to have found a match in Nse
Ikpe-Etim who fills such roles convincingly. Laughing, she recalls her
infamous swimming pool and parlour romance scenes with Ghanaian actor,
Majid Michael, in ‘Guilty Pleasures.’

“I believe that as
an actor one must realise that you need to get into characterization
properly. I decided that I have to steal from different styles of
acting, so I stole a bit of Stanislavski and so I just go into it with
situations and emotions within me, and bring them out and I used them
for my scenes. It only gets difficult to interprete if you put them
into your mind and say: “my society”. So, as an actor, I have to give
my best.”

Thoroughbred

Nse seems to be
living out her childhood love for acting these days, with a high regard
for Italian movie legend, Sophia Loren (the first actress to win an
Academy Award for a non-English-speaking performance). She would stop
at nothing to reach the zenith of her career. For budding actresses who
wish to play her in real life, she has some tips: “You would have to
live with me because I am not the girl next door. Sometimes, I am
called a ladette.”

Not every script
tickles her fancy, and she says she wouldn’t jeopardise her good name
and professionalism for anything in the world. “I don’t feature in just
any movie. I look at the construction of the script, I liaise with the
director on how he wants the story to be interpreted, and then if I am
in tune with the story, I give it a shot.”

The stage will
always be the first love for Nse Ikpe-Etim, born under the horoscope
sign of Libra. “There is no feeling like the stage because you feel
like a demigod, and you so can’t afford to make a mistake. If you do
make a mistake, better make it look as though you are acting. In a
film, you can just swing it because the director can say: cut.”

Lesson learnt

The actress says
she has learnt from the school of life which, according to her, is the
best place to gain knowledge. As this interview comes to a close she
shares with me the greatest thing she has learnt as an actress. “I have
learnt to accept my mistakes, accept me for me, live with my mistakes,
and just move on with the times.”

A programme on
Swiss national television, ‘Rundschau’ (Back to the Roots), features
five celebrities who have roots in other countries; and shows them
going back home to reunite with their families and learn more about
their origins.

According to its
presenter, Sonja Hasler, ‘Rundschau’ is a socio-political documentary
that was conceived to educate the immigrant-wary Swiss about so-called
‘foreigners’ in their land. “Some Swiss feel that most migrants in our
country are there just to profit from the system,” says Hasler, “so by
taking these celebrities back to their home country and documenting
their interactions with the people, we hope to show that these migrants
do add value to our country.”

Coming back

One of the latest
celebrities to be featured on the programme is Swiss pop star, Nubya,
whose roots are in Nigeria. Tailed by a film crew which included the
presenter, a cameraman, and her sister Katherine, Nubya visited Nigeria
as part of the documentary. Though very popular in Switzerland and
Germany, almost nothing is known about Nubya here in Nigeria.
Interestingly, she is sister to Uche Eze, creator of the entertainment
blog, Bella Naija.

I found out about
Nubya and her potential visit to Nigeria via the cameraman, Mitja, who
happens to be a friend, and caught up with her at Tribeca Club,
Victoria Island, where she was scheduled to give her first ever public
performance in Nigeria, which would be filmed by the Swiss film crew as
part of the documentary.

Nubya’s real name
is Nnenna Eze, a name she seldom uses in Switzerland, as it posed
something of a security risk there. “I don’t use the name at all in
Switzerland. I am just known as Nubya,” she says. But now, she sees the
‘Nnenna Eze’ as one way of getting closer to “her family”- here in
Nigeria.

The singer’s family
moved to Nigeria almost immediately after her birth in Switzerland. She
moved back to the European country, which she calls ‘home’, with her
mother at the age of two. Her father, who has long remarried, hails
from Enugu State.

“I have visited
Nigeria often since [the age of two], mostly to visit my father’s
family,” she says. This is her tenth visit to Nigeria; her first as a
performer.

Music and me

Nubya’s interest in
music was first piqued, when as a teenager, a friend gave her a Whitney
Houston record. “It was beautiful,” she says of the listening
experience, “and led me to take [singing] lessons.”

She did not
immediately think of being a singer in any professional sense. “I just
did [the lessons] for myself.” Her training in music had really started
much earlier when, at the age of seven, she started to take piano
lessons. “It is sort of the custom in Switzerland for a child to learn
how to play a musical instrument,” she explains, “so when my mom asked
which one I wanted to learn, I chose the piano.”

After high school,
she moved to New York where she studied jazz music for one year at the
New School. These days, she is known as a pop singer but Nubya still
declares an undying love for jazz and the great names of the genre,
like Ella Fitzgerald. She also swears by Soul and Blues singers like
Ray Charles and Stevie Wonder.

After her year in
New York, she returned to Switzerland to study Economics for three and
half years at the University of Basel before dropping out to focus on
music. “I was singing while schooling and as I slipped more and more
into music, I decided to quit school to concentrate on it. I intend to
go back some day,” she says with a laugh.

Nubya started her
musical career as a back-up singer and member of the concert choir for
Swiss musician, Bo Katzman. In 1997, she performed at one of Celine
Dion’s concerts in Switzerland as part of the choir. Her big break came
in 1999 when she opened for Whitney Houston before 12,000 people at a
concert at the Hallen Stadium in Zurich. She recorded her first album,
‘From the Bottom of my Heart’, that same year; and then took a hiatus
to a makeover/variety show, ‘Cinderella’, which aired on TV3, a private
Swiss television station.

Although the show
featured live performances by singers, Nubya in her role as host, never
got to perform. This was a bit trying for her and she soon left the
show to go back to her music. She released her second English language
album, ‘My Wish’ in 2002, followed by a third album sung entirely in
German, ‘Auf Meine Weise’ (In My Way) in 2005. Her fourth album, ‘Love
Rocks’, followed in 2007. ‘Love Rocks’ was basically an album of covers
of songs originally performed by various artists, including Prince,
Beatles, Ray Charles, Kiss, and AC/DC – “But we added our own style to
the songs,” says Nubya.

Her next album is
scheduled for release in February 2011, and with this one, she hopes to
finally penetrate into the Nigerian market. She declares her love for
contemporary Nigerian music and musicians, especially the duo, P-Square.

“It feels great
being home and I would really love to come back, stay longer, and do
stuff with Nigerians. I would love to collaborate with P-Square,
D’Banj, and Asa,” she enthuses.

Her representatives
are current talking with “some people” here, to ensure her upcoming
album would be marketed and promoted in Nigeria on release.

Warm welcome

On the image of
Nigeria and Nigerians in Switzerland, Nubya says it is not entirely
good. “There are very few, mostly drug dealers, who portrait a very
poor image of themselves and hence give a bad name to the majority who
are really working hard at decent jobs.”

She talks about
being ‘black and Swiss’ before she became famous, and says it was not
easy. “I used to get the odd looks when I go into shops, people
thinking you are just there to steal something. Now that I am a
celebrity, it is much better, of course. Still…”

As she made ready to get on stage, one wondered the kind of
reception the Swiss pop star would receive from her ‘home-based’
audience. Still, knowing Nigerians and their love for all things “our
own”, I was sure that the reception of the Nubya and her forthcoming
album would be much warmer and far less cautionary than the ones that
inspired the documentary that brought her back to her roots.

Our daughter
Ominira is at it again. She conned her mom into buying what my wife
thought was a cloth napkin. She is now wearing it proudly and
threatening to go out to dinner dressed like that. Mom asks her with
disbelief: “Is that a dress?” And Ominira looks at her mom with
disbelief [eyes roll!]: “Mom! It is a dress! You bought it for me!” Mom
wails: “It is too short! I thought I was paying for a napkin! You are
not going out looking like that” And Ominira wails: “Mom! I am going
out looking like that! See, (stubborn, unreasonable daughter lifts up
alleged dress) I am wearing shorts underneath!” Ominira gives me a
desperate look with gorgeous eyes I cannot say no to: “Daddy! Say
something! I can’t believe this!” This is the part that I don’t like,
where one of the combatants, usually the guilty one, invites me to
referee. I don’t like confrontations. Especially since my word doesn’t
really count. In our household, mommy is always right.

I look up with
trepidation while at the same time avoiding my wife’s furious gaze. The
dress looks fine to me. It doesn’t look too short, sure you can see her
legs, thighs, shoulders, arms and neck, but everything else is almost
covered. I actually like the dress. The colours complement her skin
very nicely. And her flip flops add a classy touch to the dress. Our
princess is pretty tonight. I don’t see the big deal here. We have a
problem, though: If I take our daughter’s side, I will be in the
doghouse by myself for a very long time. I don’t like sleeping by
myself. I really miss my wife when she is not talking to me. But then
if I take my wife’s side, I am dead to our daughter. She will say all
sorts of hurtful things that American teenagers say to their dads when
they don’t get their way. And then there will be a long period of
silence from this strong-willed princess. I really miss my daughter
when she is not talking to me. What to do, dear reader?

Olodumare! A light
bulb flashes in my head. I will say nothing. Brilliant. I have a good
reason to be quiet and stay out of this matter. I am home sick today. I
will go to the bedroom and face my own issues. I cough miserably and
quietly excuse myself from the living room. I hurriedly pack up what is
left of my dignity and flee the war zone. Unfortunately this brilliant
approach to conflict resolution satisfies none of the combatants. Each
side is furious at me for not taking a position, most preferably
theirs. My fleeing behind becomes the target of unnecessary roughness
with both sides temporarily united to thinking hurtful things about me
and expressing deep suspicion that I may not be sick after all (gulp!)
plus what kind of husband, or father avoids conflict, blah, blah, blah?
Well, I am thinking, as I race to the bedroom; that was nice, I have
reunited mother and daughter again. As I get to the bedroom door, I
hear my daughter, fearless one, she who never withdraws her head from
the jaws of a ravenous lioness: “Mummy, Emily and I are going to
dinner! Do you have cash? I have no money!” Then, I hear my
long-suffering wife, “Olorun ma je! This child will not kill me! How
many times have I told you never to go out if you are broke? Hear me,
we are not Americans, you cannot be eating out every day as if you are
a rich American!” Then, “Mommy, do you have cash…?” I gently shut the
bedroom door.

Life as a father is dangerous, especially with a child like Ominira.
She is always getting me in trouble. I do not remember all this wahala
when I was young. I come from a very rich family in Nigeria which meant
that outside of school uniforms, we got new dresses for Christmas.
These dresses were usually bought out of my mother’s “pocket money”
which meant that our sartorial needs were in unfair competition with
our mother’s: aso ebi, shoes, handbags and her monthly “isusu”
contribution plus a bottle of Guinness Stout (our mother maintains to
this day that Stout replenishes her blood cells). To make the dresses
last all year plus more, my mother would decree that Obioma De Tailor
(“Trained in French!”) should make the lengths as long as the muddy
floods of Benin City’s roads would allow. I wore one pair of trousers
from the age of ten until I was twenty-one. I still have my platform
shoes. I exaggerate not; look at my old pictures on Facebook. These
children do not know how lucky they are. Oh, by the way, Ominira went
out to dinner that evening, dressed in the offending napkin. Her mother
gave her money for dinner also. Moral of the story: never get between a
mother and her daughter. There will be only one black eye. Yours.