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The National
Museum, Onikan, Lagos, will come alive this week with activities
marking International Museum Day. The museum will be joining similar
organisations all over the world in celebrating the day, a major
international event marked annually.

This year’s
celebrations at the National Museum will begin on Friday May 14 with
the Miss Museum Beauty Pageant, which is expected to draw young and old
to the grounds of the museum in Onikan for the glamorous contest. An
Open Day will follow on Monday May 17, with a focus on the theme,
‘Ability in Disability: celebrating the special people’. The events
will culminate in a Public Awareness/Road Show scheduled for Tuesday,
May 18 – International Museum Day proper.

Curator at the
National Museum, Ronke Ashaye, said of the plans, “Thousands of
local/international tourists, stakeholders, government agencies,
corporate organisations, media practitioners and visitors are expected
to throng the museum to savour the joy of this celebration.”

International Museum Day was created by the International Council
of Museums in 1977 to encourage awareness in the role of museums in the
development of society. A theme is chosen each year by the Advisory
Committee, and the 2010 commemoration is anchored on the theme, ‘Museum
For Social Harmony’, underlining the need for museums to be an
effective tool for positive change and social development.

A series of
programmes are in place to mark the 50th birthday of Toyin Akinosho,
secretary-general of the art advocacy group, the Committee For Relevant
Art (CORA). Scheduled to commence today May 12, the events include an
Arthouse Forum, a ‘Night of Dramatic Exploits,’ reading sessions and a
variety night.

Organising the
event is a committee of friends called ‘Friends of Toyin Akinosho’
amongst whom are Jahman Anikulapo and Deji Toye.

‘Art Advocacy and
Art Journalism – Developments in the last two decades’ is the topic of
The Arthouse Forum, which holds on May 12 at Terra Kulture. G.G. Darah,
a renowned professor of English, will deliver the Keynote Speech.

According to Deji
Toye of ‘Friends of Toyin Akinosho,’ “We believe a jubilee celebration
of Akinosho is a proper occasion to discuss the state of Nigerian art
through two of its pillars of sustenance in the last two decades. This
period has been one of transformation on a global level. As the last
decade of one century and the first of another, it has witnessed
transformation in the mode and manner of communication on a scale and
pace not witnessed before. In Nigeria, it was also a period of flux –
near death of the publishing industry and, on the sunny side, the
emergence of a Nigerian unique motion picture model which has gone
ahead to influence the rest of Africa and attracted the attention of
the world. Besides, the implication of political instability is that
there has not been any consistent policy on culture and how it can be
harvested for national development.”

He further pointed
out, in a statement announcing the programme, that, “Two key factors
which have however sustained the centrality of Art and Culture in the
public space have been the growth of Art Journalism into full desks in
the print media with daily runs and proliferation of advocacy efforts –
from trade guilds to practitioner associations, patrons’ foundations
and ordinary citizens’ initiatives.”

The Night of
Dramatic Exploits will include a play-reading session and a production
of ‘Po,’ a two-man cast play under the direction of Ropo Ewenla.
Up-and-coming playwrights have the chance to send in entries from which
a winning play will be selected and read at the play-reading session.
The drama night takes place at the National Theatre.

On Thursday, May
27, an interview session is scheduled for Jazzhole in Ikoyi with talk
show host Funmi Iyanda and scholar Sola Olorunyomi as proposed
interviewers. This session will include readings of book excerpts.
According to the tentative programme of events, “before the session or
as interludes, book excerpts will be read in commemoration of
Akinosho’s incurable insistence that no event should be complete
without reading of excerpts.”

The variety night
is the last of scheduled events and holds at the National Theatre on
Sunday, May 30. Expected at the ‘Night of Reminiscences and
Performances’ are filmmaker Tunde Kelani, veteran actor Femi Jarrett,
writer Akin Adesokan, art historian and critic Chika Okeke-Agulu,
veteran theatre practitioner Ben Tomoloju, and the poet Uzor Maxim
Uzoatu.

NANTAP Lagos, Guild of Nigerian Dancers, Ijo Dee, Crown Troupe of Africa, Laffomania and Dagomba are all scheduled to perform.

Toyin Akinosho, cultural ‘landscapist’ and Arts patron will be 50 on May 17.

Actress and Jazz singer, Lena Horne is dead. The entertainer,
who was known for her signature song “Stormy Weather” died at the age of 92 at
Presbyterian Hospital in New York on Sunday, May 9. She will be remembered for overcoming
racism to become Hollywood’s first black leading lady.

As a young boy, he
was terrified of dance classes because he was the only boy in a class
of over 90 girls. Years after overcoming his fear and marking time on
Wall Street and in journalism, Ronald Brown has stayed true to Dance,
his first calling. This year, his company ‘Evidence, A Dance Company’
celebrated 25 years on stage.

The award-winning
dancer/choreographer and his troupe were in Lagos in March to perform
and teach dance classes as part of a trip facilitated by the Public
Affairs Section of the United States Consulate General. The spiritual
Brown spoke about the story behind the troupe and what influences his
craft.

In the beginning…

As a twelve year
old, he was on his way to an audition with his pregnant mother when a
mild drama occurred. “When we got to the door of our apartment, she
went into labour and I was like, ‘Oh forget it, I’m going to be a
writer now.” He focused on journalism and got a scholarship to study at
university, graduating a year early from high school. “I thought I had
a bargaining chip,” he said.

His mother ordered
him to “Get a job.” He would spend the following years in the
cheque-processing department of JP Morgan Guaranty Trust. During this
time, he managed to attend “like five classes, got this scholarship at
this school, and danced all day.”

And still, he
thought he would be a writer. He joined a circle of writers where the
convener constantly asked the audience, “Are you doing your work?”
After conferring with a mentor, who asked him, “Who’s going to tell
your grandmother’s stories?,” Brown realised his calling was in Dance
and established his company.

“In the circle of
writers, they say you have to leave evidence that you were there. That
was what their work was about, ‘Identity’. I said okay, Evidence.
Evidence, A dance Company,” he said.

No regrets, no apologies

Brown formed the company in 1985 as a 19-year-old. He admits to no regrets so far.

“I’d be a writer if
I wasn’t a dancer and if things were rough, my joke with the company is
I could open a health foods store or sell oranges on the street. And
because of these dancers, a friend of mine says, ‘you won’t give up
because what would they do? Who would have them, where would they do
this kind of work?’

“Again, it’s
because of the kind of work we do and the initial idea to make the
pieces. When I make a piece like ‘Order My Steps’, I’ve got to
understand my purpose and not that I’m trying to give up. How do I make
a piece called ‘Grace’, saying God has given me another chance, and I
want to give up? It doesn’t make sense,” he said.

The
dancer-choreographer infuses modern dance with traditional Latin,
Caribbean, and African dances. “You have to look at me as a man of
African descent. My great grandfather came from Liberia. Western dance
is abstract, I can’t do that,” he said.

He gives no
apologies for anyone who might question the relevance of
African-American dance. “I understand that (the pioneers) were fighting
against that, but I don’t have to do that. I don’t have to apologise
for it. I can say this is me, this is my history too.”

Creative protest

He shakes off any
political intonation this might carry. “If you’ve heard anyone say that
they are a black man, it feels like a political statement. Because
everyone wants you to be colourless, they want you to be American, to
talk American. But when I show up they want to treat me like, ‘Oh, you
grew up in BedStuy (short for Bedford-Stuyvesant), what’s that like?’

“So, how do you want me to be on this fine line? That is how they encourage you to be weak.”

He brooks no debate
over his dance pieces being slave stories or not. “When I talk about
struggle, it’s a slave story? No, my work is about liberation. All of a
sudden, that’s a political statement, but for me, it’s life. Billie
Haliday is singing ‘Strange Fruit’, a song about lynching. In the 40s
or 50s, a woman is choreographing a dance to it. That’s a political
statement, but I would call it creative protest. The liberation I’m
talking about is in the dance because I feel like dance is one place
where the spirit is free.”

According to Brown,
the existence of abstract dance can be blamed on separating “your life
from the political dynamics of what is going on. When I go to the
theatre, I want you to share something with me.” “Evidence,” he said,
“should be a reflection of the audience, a reflection of the human
condition, a sense of tradition and history, and an individual will to
represent our families, our ancestors, and our teachers. The dance
company is a collective to do that same thing.”

The Nigerian experience

“It’s important for
me, anywhere I live and work to meet the young people and the elders
and the folks in between. My work is also about teaching and learning
from people,” Brown said about his trip to Nigeria.

Not a few of those
who encountered Evidence in Nigeria expected the group to do some break
dancing or tap dancing. But the Company was living up to no
preconception. “That’s amazing for me because they thought I was going
to bring them Brooklyn.” The troupe as well did not get away without
some shocks. In a class where the group was teaching the rhythm of Ogun
and Elegba, one member of the class asked Brown why he was teaching
them what they already knew. His approach to the dance steps, however
won him some fans.

“What I think my
work is specifically is to show the spiritual connection between the
dances. So, dances from Cuba and Senegal, for instance, are similar
rhythmically, but the difference is where the downbeat is.

“I like to play
around with rhythms. Orisha from Brazil and Orisha from Cuba are
different, but I like to show them side by side and the way I
choreograph is try to choreograph the image and the story.”

Making the right moves

The audience gets a
feel of this spiritual connection and liberation at Evidence’s
performances. This might explain why his dancers are always seemingly
airborne.

So what’s his
creative process? “I just have the idea of the piece. I want to make a
piece about brotherhood, like unconditional love between men; like my
two-year-old nephew or my 85-year-old grandfather and how they love me.
I look for the music that’s going to help me dance that out, and I just
build it and try to cut out the excess.” Not surprisingly, late
activist and choreographer, Alvin Ailey, is one of Brown’s greatest
influences. While still in primary school, he made his first dance
piece in a chair after a school trip where he’d watched Ailey perform.

He got to do some
work for the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater in 1991, and in 2005,
he made ‘Ife/My Heart’ with the company. His first dance piece ever
featured in the second part of this routine. Brown continues to
collaborate with the Ailey Company and also counts legendary
African-American dancer, Katharine Dunham, amongst his influences.

Brown, who is a recipient of a Guggenheim Fellowship, has also
choreographed for the Cinque Folkloric Dance Theater and Jeune Ballet
d’Afrique Noire.

I don’t really feel
qualified to write about Esiaba Irobi. I have not met anyone quite
qualified enough to write about Esiaba Irobi, The Minstrel. He
represented something different to everyone he met. To many, he was the
consummate artist and academic. To others, he was a benchmark for hard
work and diligence. There were some who saw him as a spirit of anarchy.
He was also a rude man who wrote many sexually-explicit poems with
insane titles, my favourite being ‘A Short History of my Penis.’

I will attempt to
write about the Esiaba Irobi I know. A good man. A laughter factory. A
prophetic writer. A man who started out as my teacher, then became my
friend, and ended up as my brother.

When I heard that
Esiaba passed away via several messages, I stopped functioning.
Everyone, all at once asking if I could confirm it, friends like Molara
Wood and Toyin Adepoju, among others, wanted to be sure before calling
the news by its name. I promised to find out from Esiaba’s wife, Uloaku.

The phone call to
Berlin was the most frightening call I have ever made, and in the
spirit of The Minstrel, I was optimistic that Uloaku would chuckle and
tell me there had been a big mistake. It turned out to be wishful
thinking. Esiaba was gone. At first I was very strong. I even tapped
into my strong belief in reincarnation and shrugged, “Well, Esiaba, it
has been a tough journey for you. Go on, sir, reset your life and start
over.” Then I added, as we Igbo say when a person is going to our
ancestors, “Esiaba, son of Irobi, your world, seven worlds, you will
live your earthly life again. In your next life, you will not fall ill
in mid life, you will marry young, and raise your family in joy and
good health. Go in peace, my brother.”

It was really going
well until I told my wife that Esiaba had died. Amaka had also grown
close to Esiaba. When he called our home, they would laugh on the phone
as he performed poetry and songs down the line on international phone
calls. My wife broke down on me and cried. That’s when they gushed; my
first tears for Esiaba. Yes, I am a poet too, and I am not afraid to
have a good cry if it will stop my chest from exploding.

Nsukka

Esiaba Irobi was my
lecturer in the Department of Dramatic Arts, University of Nigeria,
Nsukka, from 1987 to 1989, when he left for the United Kingdom. Esiaba
was more than a lecturer to me; he was an inspiration. Every course he
taught me – Theatre History, Improvisation, Basic Acting Skills, and
Introduction to Playwriting – opened my mind to the possibilities of
the theatre.

Esiaba was not just
a theorist, he showed us how to do what he taught. His performances
were mesmerising, his energy was overwhelming. As an actor, he
transformed even the lamest word in a play into a living entity
inhabited by a spirit of dance. I had the privilege of understudying
Esiaba as Elesin in Wole Soyinka’s ‘Death and The King’s Horseman’, a
role he carried with commensurate pomp and passion, under the
out-of-this-world direction of Eni Jones Umuko. Esiaba connected,
raised and sustained the ritual impetus of that play, helped along with
the magnificence of Nwugo Uzoigwe’s Iyaloja. The air in the Arts
Theatre at Nsukka was so taut through the performances that it could
have strangled people.

The plays

As a playwright,
Esiaba wrote some of the angriest, action-packed, issue plays that
packed theatres full every night. ‘Nwokedi,’ ‘The Fronded Circle,’ and
‘Hangmen Also Die’ changed the theatre tradition at Nsukka forever.
Those of us who dared pick up our pens to write plays were under the
heavy influence of Esiaba Irobi. I had small parts in ‘Nwokedi’ as a
politician and member of the Ekumeku, but in ‘Hangmen Also Die’, I
played the role of Chief Isokipiri Erekosima, who embezzled three
million naira compensation meant for ordinary citizens for the
destruction of their livelihoods by oil spillage. Erekosima spent half
a million of that money on his coronation alone, as the Amatemeso of
Izon State, and some on expensive lifestyles and education for his
children abroad – because the standards of education in Nigeria had
fallen. He was to meet his ancestors when the unemployed
graduates-turned-criminals kidnapped, tried, condemned, and hung him
from a tree. ‘Hangmen Also Die’ was produced in 1989, directed by
Esiaba Irobi himself. Even back then, he foresaw the current crisis
that has ravaged Nigeria’s Niger Delta region.

In 2003, I interviewed him; and to the question ‘Who is Esiaba Irobi?’ he replied,

“He is from the
Republic of Biafra and has lived all his life in exile in Nigeria, the
United Kingdom, and the USA. Everything he wrote in ‘Hangmen Also Die’
has come to pass, including the hanging of the boys, the killing of the
chiefs, the execution of Ken Saro-Wiwa in a prison in Port Harcourt.
The recent revolt by riverine women against foreign oil companies in
Nigeria reminds us strongly of Tamara in the play and also resonates
with the reason for the iconoclastic philosophy of The Suicide Squad.

“‘Hangmen Also
Die’ is the most prophetic of all of Esiaba works. It is a picture of
the future. Our future as a country: Area Boys. Bakassi. Armed Robbery.
Anarchy! The worst is yet to come. Nigeria will break apart like a loaf
of bread in water, it will capsize like a leaking canoe on the River
Niger!”

The poetry

I first encountered
the power of Esiaba’s poetry at the Anthill, Nsukka, run back in the
day by Gbubemi Amas, Big George, and co. He would sing his words and on
occasions, break into powerful choruses and dance. He would break sweat
performing a poem, and would ensure the poem was etched on the minds of
members of the audience.

Following the
publication of his seminal poetry collection, ‘Why I Don’t Like Philip
Larkin,’ it was my honour to host him in London on April 1, 2006. Other
poets that read on the same night were Toni Kan, Obemata, and Molara
Wood, their readings punctuated with mine. It was all very good, but
when Esiaba, the masquerade of the night, stepped up to the stage, he
turned the night on its head, with songs, with calls and responses, and
with his lyrical pieces rendered with penetrating, seering conviction.
Esiaba wrote about some of his characters as people who used words
“like a loaded pistol”, but it was he, The Minstrel, a powerful
wordsmith, who used words like a loaded pistol. When mixed together and
shaken, his words would produce the effect of an atomic bomb, powerful
enough to eradicate Nigeria’s terminal diseases, which populate the
country’s past, ruling, or aspiring leadership.

Celebrating Esiaba

In 2009, Esiaba got
married to the lovely Uloaku, who joined him in America in the summer.
They moved together to Berlin, where he took up position as a
Distinguished Research Fellow, Freie University, Berlin, Germany
2009-2010 in the “Interweaving Performance Cultures” programme at the
University’s International Research Centre.

The painful thing
about Esiaba’s life is that he was a man who had a habit of being happy
always, no matter his situation. He worked very hard at his craft, and
tried as much as he could to enjoy his life. Every time I was on the
phone with Esiaba, or sat across the table for a bite or a drink, he
had no idea how to be in somebody’s company and not have a funny story
to tell, a poem to read, a song to sing, or a political or
philosophical idea to banter over. I was quite aware that he was
well-respected in literary and academic circles, and had won some
awards here and there, but it always surprised me that somehow, Esiaba
had never really been publicly celebrated for all his achievements and
vision.

Therefore, I asked
myself: should we wait for Esiaba to win at least one of the two Nobel
Prizes for Literature he used to tell us he would win, before we
celebrate him? Or should be celebrate him anyway? I chose the latter,
and in the planning of the first Sentinel Literature Festival –
December 1 to 4, 2009 – we set aside the final day as ‘Esiaba Irobi
Day.’ The plan was simple: on that day, admirers and some of his former
students would read their favourite Esiaba poems, then there would be a
musical interval, and then the man himself would incinerate the place
with a 60-minute performance.

I have never seen
anyone as excited about an event as Esiaba was about the ‘Esiaba Irobi
Day’ at our festival. I am sure he won’t mind my sharing some of his
thoughts for the evening: “My sisters who live in London and my
beautiful and lovely wife will cook/provide the food… I suggest very
strongly that you change the picture of mine you have chosen. I will
send another more exciting photograph which you can use to create a
one-page advert in colour. You can then send it as an attachment –
INDIVIDUALLY – to everybody who is interested in poetry in the UK…We
can also target some Ngwa people who are not literary sensibilities,
but who will be coming for the food and the wine and the
photograph-taking and to see their rambunctious brother performing in
London with a band called The Republic of Biafra!… A lot of Igbo people
– if you can find a listserv containing their names-will also want to
come…

“I also suggest
that you push the event through Toyin Adepoju’s facebook. And the Wole
Soyinka Society… Jackie Mackay knows a lot of people in the literary
milieu of London. You should try and befriend her. She can help to
swell the AUDIENCE on December 4, 2009. We should also think of special
invitations to people like Peter Badejo, Osy Okagbue, Yvonne Brewster,
Nigerian actors/ theatre directors, etc. The idea of Special
Invitations and a kind of DISTINGUISHED high table and brief speeches
about the poet will… make them come as well as bring other people… I
am planning to have food – Igbo cuisine on December 4. In addition, we
can also have some wine, bread, cheese and charge a sensible gate fee
for this huge event. I am planning to put on a really powerful show
complete with my band: The Republic of Biafra. My son, Nnamdi, will
play his saxophone in the band.”

Published and forthcoming works

Esiaba also copied
an e-mail he wrote to Jacqueline Mackay to me, and there, I thought we
were about to celebrate Esiaba, only for me to learn he was dedicating
the show to Ms Mackay. In this e-mail, he wrote, “I will not be
“reading” but actually “performing” in the African oral tradition…
excerpts from the following published and forthcoming collections:
Frozen Music (1985), Handgrenades (1986), Infloresence (1987), Tenants
of the Desert (1988), What is Tender about Ted Hughes? (1989), Is This
a God I Smash? (1990), Tell Me I am Lying! (1991), The Kingdom of the
Mad (1997), Why I Don’t Like Philip Larkin (2004), A Calendar of Love
(forthcoming), A Short History of my Penis (forthcoming), ZEZE and
other LOVE poems (forthcoming), The Tree that Weeps (forthcoming)… It
will be a great day and I will make it clear to everybody – before I
begin my performance – that this event is specially staged for a great
woman who has a lot of love for everything African, including our
literature, arts, cuisine, and young men with dysfunctional penises!”

He had it all
planned in his head, but due to some unforeseen problems with his
travel documents, he could not attend the festival and we had to cancel
day 4.

In March 2010, I
was delighted when Esiaba wrote me a heartwarming e-mail in which he
said his health was on the mend, and he and his wife now had 5-year
multiple visas in and out of Britain. Then the masterstroke: he
informed me that his wedding ceremony had been fixed for the middle of
June and that he would very much like me to organise a poetry event to
serve as his bachelor’s eve party. Like the festival show, Esiaba had
big plans for his wedding poetry event, and after our last exchange on
Wednesday, April 28, I started making plans to realise his big show in
London, only this time, he did not just pull out due to problems, he
actually did a Michael Jackson on me.

The Sentinel Poetry
Movement is a part of what has defined my life since 2002, and one
thing I have said at every opportunity, is that Esiaba Irobi was the
one that suggested that I grow the idea from the small exercise on my
website. I am happy that in his lifetime, Sentinel published Esiaba’s
own poetry, and essays; and essays on Irobi’s works by others such as
Pius Adesanmi and Afam Akeh. I am also proud that although the big
event never happened, there was at least that evening in 2006 when he
sang and danced as part of a Sentinel Live Event.

Eulogies

On hearing of his
death, many have said wonderful things about Esiaba. The poet, Remi
Raji, describes him as “one of the finest, but rarely sung writers.”
The truth is that we all wait for the West to adopt and celebrate our
best. Esiaba was never going to be a darling of the western world. Our
people are singing him now that he is dead. I, however, deeply
appreciate some comments on my Facebook page from people I knew were
genuine Esiaba friends. Osita Okagbue writes, “With Esiaba, some
laughter has left; a joy for life and people has gone! I’ll miss your
laughter, our friend, colleague, and my academic nephew.” Gbubemi Amas
says, “This is very sad news for anyone who loves life.” And among
other tributes, Abdul Mahmud, who writes as Obemata, remembers him this
way; “Esiaba was such an engaging poet; memories of his performance at
the maiden Sentinel Poetry Live years ago in London are as abiding as
the fraternal love and respect he showed to some of us who interacted
with him that night”. That was Esiaba, a respecter of kindred spirits.
A lover of life.

I am as devastated
by Esiaba Irobi’s passing as many of my colleagues, and Esiaba’s
students are, but nothing we feel today can compare with what Uloaku,
his wife of less than one year must feel, or what his Saxophone-playing
son, Nnamdi, must feel. I also hope that Uloaku is well in the know
about his unpublished works, and will work tirelessly to make sure they
see the light of day. These include such books as ‘How to make love to
a Negro all Night and Survive it’, ‘A White Man’s Guide to Black
Woman’, ‘Theorizing African Cinema: Ontology, Teleology, Semiology and
Narratology’ (Routledge, London), ‘Before They Danced in Chains:
African Metalanguages in African-American Performance Aesthetics’, and
his novel, too long in the making:‘The Intellectual Terrorist.’

Nnorom Azuonye is the Founder/Editor of ‘Sentinel Literary Quarterly’, and publisher of ‘Sentinel Nigeria’ magazines.