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I meet Shondrella Avery-Kester and her husband, Ade, for the
first time on a Friday afternoon at the City Hall in Lagos. The second time is
two days later, at their hotel in Ikeja. We are the only guests in the
restaurant. The wall opposite me is lined with black-and-white images of
activist icons like Malcolm X, Martin Luther King, and Mahatma Gandhi. A sketching
of Che Guevara completes the parade.

The Kesters have just returned from a family outing on one of
Lagos’ many private beaches. This trip is Shondrella’s first to Nigeria. Ade is
Nigerian, his family is from Oluwole on Lagos Island; he grew up in Lagos before
relocating to the United States in the early 1990s.

At six feet, Shondrella is an imposing presence. She’s dressed
in a patterned African-print gown with fluffy sleeves, made for her by a
friend. Of it she declares: “This dress is going on the red carpet in America.”

Shondrella is in Lagos to prepare for the shooting of a
documentary series about life in Nigeria. Her ‘Shondrella’s Adventures’ has
been conceived to be like her marriage: America meets Africa. She is determined
to tackle the “stereotypes” and “negative connotations” that burden Africa’s
reputation in America.

“A lot of Americans have misconceptions of Africans, and
specifically Nigerians,” she says. “People don’t think you’re civilised, and
that pisses me off. You’re beyond civilized.”

She thinks the media should take much of the blame for the
dismal reputation of a “flourishing continent with great pride and character
and integrity and hustle.” Even her stay in Nigeria has provided fresh
evidence. “CNN in America is not the CNN I’ve seen here.”

Being married to a Nigerian man means that Shondrella knows a
lot more than many Americans. (“You guys know about the world. America doesn’t
know about the world, America knows about America.”). She can see the striking
sameness that exists between people from the two places. “You find, honestly,
that we’re all the same,” she says.

She sees very clearly all the differences as well; especially
“the wahalas” of life in Lagos. Like the commercial motorcyclists. “Ah, the
okadas! Those okadas – that is wild! The fact that they are happily running the
road, they’re the ogas on the road,” she says. She’s taken in by the immense
energy and bustle of Lagos: the “ridiculous” traffic, the masses of people
“running across the freeway” – all of these leave her astounded. But the
traffic jam hawkers take the prize: “I can get a dog, I can get tissue, I can
get shoes, I can get a dress – on the freeway! – you don’t have to even go to
the mall.”

The secret dream of
Shondrella

It all started with a dream, in far away America. “A bizarre
thing,” Shondrella recollects. There were camels in a desert; and she was
sitting on one of them, a tiara on her head. She interpreted it as a message
hinting at the distant past; before the transatlantic slave trade swept her
forebears off to the New World. Possibilities. “I could be the Queen of a Congo
tribe or something; I could be heir to a royal family in Nigeria…”

She knew instantly that it was time to turn her gaze to Africa.
Time to make the long trip to the land her husband called home, and not merely
as a visitor or in-law, but as someone determined to leave a lasting mark. Thus
was the idea of ‘Shondrella’s Adventures’ born, “to dispel the misconceptions
between Africans and African-Americans” with humour, purpose, and integrity.
The show will follow her around “my husband’s country and now my country. I
want to go North South East and West; I want to go everywhere.”

She says the series will be mostly “improvisational style”,
alongside re-enactments of the interesting experiences she’s had in Nigeria.
“It’s Curb Your Enthusiasm meets The Office” she says. She’s already shot a
pilot in the US focusing on the dream-origins of her inspiration.

The first of ten children, Shondrella attended the Performing
Arts High School in California, and then earned a Bachelor of Fine Art in
Theatre at California State University. Her desire to be a thespian, she says,
was influenced by Meryl Streep. “I was the black Meryl Streep,” she says. After
graduation, she worked for a few years at a corporate job, as a contract
negotiator with Hilton Hotels Corporation at its Beverly Hills headquarters.
Her nights were spent as actress and stand-up comedian. “As a stand-up, there’s
no prejudice. You can be anything as long as you make people laugh.”

Comedy, stop-gap as it appeared to be, would turn out to be one
of the best decisions of her burgeoning career. Those were the days when
talent-hunting studio executives were regular faces at comedy clubs. In 1999,
she got her break; her first feature films: ‘Cyberdorm’ and ‘Trippin”.
Following this was a television role, as part of the four-woman cast of reality
TV series, ‘Girls Behaving Badly’. In the years since she has built up an
impressive resume: feature film roles in ‘Napoleon Dynamite’ (2004), ‘Domino’
(2005), ‘Déjà Vu’ (2006), ‘The Secret Lives of Bees’ (2008), and ‘Our Family
Wedding’ (2009); and roles in television series ‘One on One’, its spin-off,
‘Cuts’, and most recently, ‘Gillian in Georgia’ (2010).

She is proud of the talent she’s worked with: Alicia Keys, Queen
Latifah, Jennifer Hudson (“a really good friend of mine”), and Sophie Okonedo
(“ever since ‘Hotel Rwanda’ I’ve been chasing this lady”) in ‘The Secret Life
of Bees’; Denzel Washington (“the ‘Oga'”) in ‘Déjà Vu’; Monique in ‘Domino’;
Forest Whitaker (“He was my role model as a child”) in her latest film, ‘Our
Family Wedding’; and directors Tony Scott and Gina Prince-Bythewood.

Sisdrella

Shondrella married Ade Kester in 2005. She had known him for
about eight years. They met at a restaurant in America. “I thought he was very
handsome… he was tall, dark, and handsome, and that was what I wanted,” she
says, laughing. So “mesmerized” was she that she did not realise he had a
Nigerian accent until they spoke on the phone later. A first date followed a
few days later; they’ve “been together ever since”.

One of the things that continue to impress her about him is his
pride in being Nigerian. “I’m proud of him for being proud of where he’s from,”
she says. And she also acknowledges the very supportive role he’s played in her
life. “He’s gone through the journey with me.”

Being married to him has taught her a lot about Nigeria; the
cuisine for example. “If I love him, then I love everything that comes with
him,” she says. But coming to Nigeria with him for the first time (he has
travelled to Nigeria three to four times every year since 2006) has made her
realise that there are some things about Nigeria that can only be experienced,
not learnt second-hand. When I ask when she plans to start shooting, she says
she’s ready, but has come to respect Nigeria’s peculiar sense of timing, the
land’s knack for slowing things down to a preset pace.

The word ‘respect’ shows up quite regularly in our conversation.
She tells me she’s from the American South, so she’s no stranger to a
family-bound code of respect. “I don’t backtalk my mother; I don’t curse in
front of my siblings or my parents…I was raised properly.”

Marrying into a Nigerian family stretches the demands of respect
much further, so that her sisters call her husband “Bros Ade” and not “Ade”;
and greet her mother-in-law the Yoruba way. His own sisters also use the
obligatory “Sister” to prefix her name, but instead of the long “Sister
Shondrella”, they’ve transfigured it into the charming “Sisdrella”.

She believes that African-Americans ought to respect Africa. “I
can’t assume an identity without respecting the identity… Some people in
America don’t even know that Egypt is in Africa, but they want to say they’re
African-American.”

There’s a militancy to her views, which manifested in her
decision to not claim Africa until she visited. “Now, I can say I am African!”

After two weeks in Nigeria, it’s time to return to America,
where she works full-time as an actress, theatre and short film director, and
voice-over artist. She’s going back with record high enthusiasm. And with three
cameras full of photos (“the good, the bad, the indifferent, the in-between;
I’ve taken it all”). When she returns, which she assures me will be very soon,
it will be with the Australian cinematographer (and Africaphile) James
Costello, who will work with a Nigerian crew and Nigerian actors.

Costello won’t be the only person making the US-Nigeria trip on
account of ‘Shondrella’s Adventures’. “I’m bringing my mother, I’m bringing my
sisters,” she declares.

My guess is that there’ll never be too many ambassadors to spread uplifting
green-and-white news in the land of stars and stripes.

This stark story of
primitive violence has to it the quality of elemental fable. It is told
in prose that is hewn often with a precise chisel. Yet, I couldn’t help
feeling short-changed by the writer as I read the story for the third
(?) straight time. Olufemi Terry’s construction of a landscape of urban
dystopia, peopled only by underage boys, cannot be taken for granted.

It must be
accounted for, however thinly or vaguely. No doubt, emplotment and
motivation in the story are superbly handled, and the scenes of brutal
fighting linger in the memory, like graceful movements in stylized
dancing. But there is a basic lack. How can we read this story and be
comfortable with urchins who are schooled in Tolkien and in the history
and manners of Laconia and its capital Sparta?

It is not enough to
say that Salad taught them all of these things. Who taught Salad? And I
was aghast at this sentence from thirteen-year-old Raul, the narrator
and self-confessed street urchin: “I know that what I did wasn’t
technically illegal, but I feel an apology is needed.”

This is from a
dialogue. Raul is not here addressing the reader. He is talking to
another street urchin like himself, in the language of a barrister! The
landscape in which the boys dwindle their violent existence is deformed
and bleak through and through, but their language now and again crests
on a literary, indeed erudite, height.

I mean, just listen
to the urchin, Lapy, deliver this line: ‘Psychologically, that would
have demoralized Markham too much.’ If he can say ‘psychologically’,
then he might just as well say ‘anthropologically’ or even declare
thus: “By the principles of aerodynamics, I think you have an excellent
rapier in that Mormegil of yours.”

My theory is that
this problem of incoherence, for incoherence it is, has been created by
an author who has refused to furnish any kind of larger social backdrop
for his construction of a terrain of urban terror. There is an
‘outside’ to the world of the dump, an outside where people clutch
their purses in fear when they see an urchin, an outside that “wants to
pity but can’t”. Not only is this outside briefly brought in only to be
banished forthwith from the frame of the story, but the world inside
the dump is hermetically sealed off from social variety-no men, no
women, no girls, and there is no explanation or excuse for this. The
concept of boys, more or less isolated, living out a fable of brooding
or stark evil, has been material for great literature before. For
instance, this short story calls up to mind William Golding’s ‘Lord of
the Flies’. I daresay it is obvious to any of us that Olufemi Terry’s
‘Stickfighting Days’ shares a genre affinity with that masterpiece.

All the same, the
recall comes to me with a feeling of disappointment at what Terry does
not achieve by isolating his boys in a socially wrecked never-never,
and expecting that we will take at face value their being cut off from
the rest of the world. That right is denied these boys because they
allude to our literature, not a literature of their own manufacture.
How did they come to know it so well as to domesticate it in their
never-never of abjection and terror?

This query may seem
extraneous to the all-important question of craft in the short story.
But then, consider the formal language of much of the dialogue,
consider the ‘deep’ learning of these urchins in Tolkien and the
classics, and it becomes clear why I think the story has not been
fully, and I should say fully well, told, until we know something of
the educational background of these slum-dog professors.

What is more, we
can’t be content to hide behind the curtain of print and watch these
boys clobber one another into the dust and slime. We need to be told,
however dismissive the manner of the telling, why we are incapable of
intervening. After all, these boys could not have been wholly
responsible for the original wreckage of their social milieu.

Yes, unmediated
isolation makes for a striking and intense tableau of terror; yet, it
all seems contrived, artificial. For boys do not come into such
atrocious being by themselves, even if it saves us much narrative
labour to assume that we can pluck them out of the corrupt air and dump
them in a place where they cannot be reached by the PTA, by sisters and
girlfriends, by laws, regulations and morality – a place where boys may
safely inflict on one another stark-naked violence.

True, Olufemi Terry
achieves universality by leaving out a plausible larger social backdrop
for the action and existence of these boys, but it is a universality
that encompasses not the world of genuine people, but rather conjures
up a species of chimeras that not even fiction can bring fully alive.
Street urchins in Lagos, whose argot is in Mandarin Chinese, cannot be
taken for granted, nor would we take for granted yobbos in Dundee, who
hold street corner readings from the poetry of Adebayo Faleti.

It is in this sense
that I feel the author short-changes us, though by that very act the
imagination is fired to speculate ad infinitum on how urchins may
acquire an education that gives such literary shape and clothing to
their rituals of naked violence.

So I confess that
‘Stickfighting Days’ provides an example of what a piece of good
literature, however inadequate we deem it, does to the imagination. It
presses one’s imagination to engage it and to retell the story in a way
that makes one begin to see an outline of the larger picture, if not
the larger picture itself. I believe it is through this kind of
exercise that we can compensate ourselves for the fast one that Olufemi
Terry pulls on us in his story.

And it is not the
classic Barthean death of the author I am talking about here. My
concern is with the dearth of the tale. Part of the gist, which my
imagination has supplied as background to the story, is that somehow,
Salad, one of the oldest boys who, by the time we meet him in the
story, is now the only man in the dump, long ago pillaged the library
of a Professor of Literae Humaniores living on the outside. He is thus
able to give a proper finish to his own education and to supply the
other boys with the necessary rhetoric and metaphysic for making sense
of the culture of violence which they live out in that milieu of utter
desolation.

The brutish life is
coming to an end one of these days for all of these boys. But even as
they poison and maim and destroy one another-the sticks that Einstein
famously feared a Fourth World War will be fought with, enjoy pride of
place in their retrenched arsenal-they still have literature to fall
back on.

One of the themes
of this fable, then, is that literature will always have a place in the
world, no matter how terribly things deteriorate. In fact, the fable
tells us that literature provides a frame for how violently we live our
lives; and that we will always find it hard to explain how people get
their stories.

The writer of this story has won himself a prize by serving up fare
that catches fire in the imagination. And I congratulate him, but with
the reservations contained herein.

The Centre for Black and African Arts and Civilization (CBAAC)
is not relenting in its efforts to explore areas of cooperation with
like-minded organisations and individuals around the world in the fulfilment of
its goals.

On Friday, July 16, the management of the Centre hosted some
guests at its headquarters on Broad Street, Marina, Lagos. Deputy Ambassador,
Embassy of Brazil in Nigeria, Jose Mario Ferreira Filho, was the first caller
received by Tunde Babawale, Director General of CBAAC, and management staff of
the body.

Brazil, it will be recalled, recently signed a Memorandum of
Understanding (MoU) on cooperation in the area of cultural rights, combating
discrimination, and promotion of racial equality with Nigeria. CBAAC is the
parastatal of the Ministry of Tourism, Culture and National Orientation
responsible for the implementation of the programmes and projects of the
agreement.

Speaking at the occasion, Filho said the Brazilian architecture
he saw in the neighbourhood, also known as Brazilian Quarters, made him
nostalgic. He disclosed that a cultural centre would be part of the Brazilian
Embassy in Abuja when it is completed, and assured CBAAC of the Embassy’s
continuous support.

Responding, Babawale said the body would try its best to assist
in preserving the buildings. He assured that the parastatal doesn’t joke with
Brazil because it is a valued strategic partner. Babawale presented bound
copies of papers presented at the two international conferences on improving
relationships between Africans in the continent and those in the Diaspora, held
in Brazil in 2008 and 2009 to Filho.

He also presented a preliminary programme of CBAAC’s forthcoming
conference, holding in Abuja in September, to the diplomat and disclosed that
CBAAC’s 2011 international conference will hold in Cape Verde, a Lusofone
country like Brazil.

Filho, who while going through some of the publications given to
him, expressed regret at Nigeria’s looted artefacts, especially the original
copy of the Queen Idia mask at the British Museum, was later taken on a grand
tour of the CBAAC complex and its annexe.

Niyi Coker also visited

While Filho was watching the video of FESTAC ’77 at the
parastatal’s audio-visual studio, Babawale attended to playwright, Niyi Coker,
and officials of the Pan African Society for Musical Arts Education (PASMAE).

Coker, a professor of Drama in the Department of Theatre, Dance
and Media Studies, University of Missouri-St. Louis, and author of
‘Preemptive’, a stage play currently touring Nigeria, explained that he was at
CBAAC to explore areas of cooperation. The E. Desmond Lee Endowed Professor of
African/African-American Theatre and Cinema further disclosed that he organises
the Africa World Documentary Festival with his endowment and organises
conferences on Afro-American Studies. He reiterated that he was at CBAAC
because the only country with a body that does what CBAAC does is Barbados.

Babawale expressed CBAAC’s readiness to partner with Coker on
some of his projects. He disclosed that the parastatal has two forthcoming
projects in the US: establishment of an International Centre for Black and
African Studies in Atlanta, Georgia, and an exhibition in partnership with the
Nigerian Embassy in Washington – both of which Coker can buy into.

The Director General, however, suggested that since Coker didn’t
come with a concrete proposal, he should be taken round the centre “to have a
good mental image of what we can do together.”

The two officials of PASMAE, Adeolu Okunade and Josephine
Mokwunyei, came to solicit CBAAC’s support for the association’s West African
sub-regional conference holding in December at the University of Education,
Winneba, Ghana.

Mokwunyei, who teaches Music at the University of Benin,
acknowledged CBAAC’s support for its last conference, and disclosed that
Babawale will be the special guest of honour at the conference holding from
December 7 to 9.

Babawale expressed CBAAC’s readiness to partner with PASMAE, but
disclosed that the parastatal presently has financial challenges because of the
downward review of the national budget.

“We shall do our best because encouraging and supporting causes like yours
is a must, it’s a duty. That’s how Africans can assert themselves. We don’t
have to rely on outsiders. Some people feel we are profligate, but the truth is
that we have a duty to promote African culture,” Babawale stated.

Poet Eddie Aderinokun celebrated his 70th birthday surrounded by family and associates

Former journalist,
sports administrator and poet, Eddie Aderinokun, who clocked 70 on July
13, celebrated the occasion on Friday, July 16 at the Banquet Hall,
National Theatre, Lagos.

It was a two-in-one
celebration as Aderinokun’s latest poetry collections, ‘Ode to Artist
Without Compare’ and ‘Thirty Thoughts in Thirty Cities’, were also
unveiled at the event attended by eminent Nigerians from journalism,
the literary arts and sports.

Pioneer president,
National Press Council, Alade Odunewu; former Minister of Information
and Culture, Tony Momoh; broadcaster turned king, Igwe Alex Nwokedi;
Vanguard publisher, Sam Amuka; former Chief Press Secretary to Ibrahim
Babangida, Duro Onabule; veteran journalist, Jibade Fasina-Thomas and
deputy Managing Director, Sun Newspapers, Femi Adesina – were among
those who came to felicitate with the former Editor of ‘Daily Express’.
Writers Odia Ofeimun and Kunle Ajibade, sports journalist, Mitchell
Obi, the Olowu of Owu kingdom, Oba Adegboyega Dosunmu and actor Femi
Robinson, were among others at the occasion.

Playwright, Ben
Tomoloju highlighted some of Aderinokun’s qualities, including his
altruism, friendliness and contributions to sports in a toast before
the anchors, Adesuwa Onyenokwe and Ropo Ewenla, took control of
proceedings. Tomoloju ended his toast with a song ‘Oro Agba’, extolling
the wisdom in the words of elders.

Chair of the
occasion and executive president, African Business Roundtable, Bamanga
Tukur, explained that he didn’t come with a prepared speech because
“this is a family gathering.” He recalled that he had known Aderinokun,
former president of Nigeria’s Volleyball and Wrestling Federations for
about 40 years. “From close friends, we have become brothers. We have
been together always,” stated the politician and businessman.

The former Governor
of defunct Gongola State also recalled Aderinokun’s role in the
election that brought him into power in 1983. He said he was surprised
when he saw the former board member of the Athletics Federation of
Nigeria and the Nigeria Olympic Committee on his campaign trail, in the
difficult terrain of Adamawa which was unlike Lagos State where the
celebrant resided. Tukur ended his remarks on an appreciative note with
“Thanks, Eddie, for staying the course.” He later presented a cheque of
N70, 000 representing each of his years to Aderinokun.

Segun Adefila’s
Crown Troupe of Africa provided light entertainment by performing some
poems from ‘Ode to Artist Without Compare’ and ‘Thirty Thoughts in
Thirty Cities’. The troupe, as usual, was a delight to watch as they
gave life to some of Aderinokun’s reflective poems on the omniscient
nature of God, conscience and conflicts and insurrections in Africa.

In a short speech at the occasion, publisher of ‘Ovation’ Magazine
and one of the book presenters, Dele Momodu, blamed the military for
destroying poetry in Nigeria. “It’s a shame that we have had leaders
who didn’t appreciate poetry,” the journalist now aspiring to the
nation’s presidency declared. He, however, noted that the military’s
non-appreciation of poetry is not their fault. “They didn’t have what
we had at Ile Ife,” he said, while reciting part of Wole Soyinka’s
‘Abiku’ Others who paid tributes to the celebrant before the event
ended include Bayo Odulana, a member of the House of Representatives
who described Aderinokun as “a piece of artwork. You look at him; he
looks like a sculpture piece. I painted him in oil, pastel and pencil
when he was launching his first book.” Renowned music producer, Laolu
Akintobi, also disclosed the poet’s impact on him. He revealed that
Aderinokun renamed him Laolu Akins in 1967 and thanked him “for those
wonderful times.”

Two students of Obafemi Awolowo University, Ile-Ife, Damilola
Ajayi, and Emmanuel Iduma, teamed up recently to create a fast growing
electronic magazine and a website, geared towards promoting the development of
literature and arts in Nigeria.

Speaking on their partnership, Iduma, a final year student of Law,
said, “We are writers and literary enthusiasts. We met at a writers’ workshop
in Ife and we just bonded and keyed into the vision of an E-zine and website.”

Ajayi, a student of the College of Medicine agreed, saying, “We,
were primarily budding writers who had always scoured the internet for openings
in literary markets and we saw that most times these literary magazines (mostly
western) have a predilection for authors in their locality; and even when they
publish African writers, they are usually in the Diaspora. Hence, we thought we
could start something Nigerian first and then African.”

In the beginning was the
word

The first issue was published online in February, 2009; and
since then, the e-zine, Saraba – a unique quasi African tag – has been nurtured
to become what it is now. The idea to float the e-zine, the two admitted, was
borne out of a “selfish need to publish our works; as we were budding writers
with loads of rejection mails.”

Iduma explained that “Saraba is a quarterly magazine, for which
we usually draw out a theme calendar at the beginning of every year; in
addition we also publish at least three chapbooks every year. We have had four
issues, one sub-issue, two chapbooks, and we try to have online content
monthly.”

Saraba has, in just two years of operation, published both
emerging and established writers, including: Jude Dibia, Emmanuel Sigauke, Uche
Peter Umez and Pelu Awofeso, amongst many others.

Iduma highlighted some of the teething problems faced by their
online literary platform: “We publish stories, poetry and essays because we are
a literary magazine and we are concerned with Literature. In the initial stage
though, there was slight scepticism. Not that the idea was not welcomed but we
had to define and redefine ourselves severally before we finally got the
acclaim that we have now.”

The magazine and the website is self-funded by the two partners,
who presently have not begun to pay their contributing writers. Ajayi expressed
hope, however, that Saraba will be able to offer remuneration to its
contributors sometime in the future. He added that, “Online magazines are
easier to produce and are less capital intensive. They match the current trend
brought about by the computer age.”

Big dreams

Saraba has generated online following across Nigeria, Africa and
the world. Proudly illustrating the reach of their brain-child, Iduma said, “We
have been receiving entries all over the world. We got over 15,000 hits in
March only. We plan to generate revenue by advertising on the website.” The
advantage of online magazines, according to him, is the bridge they establish
between the inadequate number of publishing houses and the country’s growing
need for outlets for creative expressions.

Saraba is a pioneer in online publication in Nigeria and its
creators hope that it will become a household name in world of literature.

“In some years, we hope to be rubbing shoulders with big literary magazines
like New Yorker, Callaloo, and Boston Review,” Ajayi projected.

Why Art?

I attended a seminar once and the presenter, Mike Murdock, said
that in life you will be best known for what you love doing and not what you
have to do. One of the things I love doing is art.

Training

I finished from Yaba College of Technology in 1997 with a
diploma and since then, I had practised as a full-time artist, until I got a
job as a lecturer at the Federal College of Education, Akoka, Lagos, where I
lecture in Art.

Medium

I use a wide variety of media, but my favourite is oil on canvas
and pastels. I also enjoy drawing.

Influences

When I started, one of my major influences was Michelangelo and
Leonardo. As I began to grow, I did my industrial attachment with Abraham
Uyovbisere, who was a major influence. Gradually, I began to carve out my
niche. I enjoy the philosophies of Eugene Delacroix and the French poet,
Charles Baudelaire. I enjoy their philosophies about life.

Inspirations

Some of my inspirations come from personal experiences I have
encountered and the desire to put them on canvas [for the viewer]. Inspiration
also comes from nature. I have done a lot of projects in places like the Apapa
Port and Ekiti Hills. I find inspiration in almost everything. If you have a
third eye you will be inspired one way or the other.

Best work so far

I have not created a best work yet. I have done a series of
projects and one of the ones I enjoy most is my ‘Ado Ekiti’ painting. I also
did a mural for MTN and during my solo exhibition, I did an assemblage which is
the map of Nigeria. The best is yet to come, but these are the landmarks in my
career that I appreciate.

Least satisfying work

I have learnt from the experiences of old masters that if I made
a painting that I am unsatisfied with, after a while I create a new painting on
top of the bad one.

So, the underlined painting forms some kind of texture, which
helps the new painting. So, I don’t have a least satisfying one; under every
painting, there is probably another one.

Favourite artist, living
or dead

Michelangelo was a great man. When you look at his works you see
how he has imprinted himself in the hearts of people, bringing a deep sense of
emotional feelings, especially in the work of ‘Adam receiving life from God’,
and the way he has been able to even recreate God showing Him from His
backside.

There are so many great things about the man. His legacy is
untouched by any living artist in terms of what he has been able to do.

Career high point

I have not reached there yet.

Ambitions

To be the best that I can be, which means I’m to look into
myself and search out the areas yet to be explored. It is a continuous process;
it’s a journey, and the desire to suddenly turn left requires a great deal of
courage.

A trio of young artists, Perrin Oglafa, Johnson Uwadinma and
Michael Kpodoh, based in Port Harcourt in the Niger Delta under the umbrella of
Mangrove Artists, held a one-week art exhibition with the theme ‘Views: Tales
of the Mangrove Artists’, at Mydrim Gallery, Ikoyi, Lagos, from the July 16 to
24.

E.J Alagoa, Emeritus Professor of History and mentor to the
trio, observed in the exhibition catalogue, “The Mangrove forest might look
monotonous to the casual uninitiated observer, but hides a surprising array of
colours and life within its foliage and undergrowth. So are the Mangrove
Artists, displaying a surprising variety of talent, from the background of the
Niger Delta environment out of which they have sprung, and in which they have
worked.”

Formed on March 15, 2009 in Port Harcourt, the friends, who have
been exhibiting together for over seven years, are all executives of the
Rivers/Bayelsa chapter of the Society of Nigerian Artists (SNA).

The mangrove tree

Collectively and in turn they pay tribute to the qualities of
the mangrove tree. “It is a tree known for its resilience,” Oglafa points out,
“so it represents a collection of our strength and, since it grows within the
creeks in the Niger Delta where we live and practise art, we have chosen it as
our symbol.”

Uwadinma highlights another characteristic: “It has strong
commercial value, and since art has always been something of great value to
society we can now begin to associate with that characteristic of the
mangrove.” “We also relate to how the mangrove seed floats down to other
regions; in that we are not restricted to our terrain. So we want to spread our
art to the world and the mangroves’ colourful leaves shows in the different
approach in our works,” Kpodoh concludes.

It was a big group exhibition, with each artist contributing 10
large works and 15 miniatures. Oglafa’s big works were mostly in acrylic and
oil on canvas while his miniatures were gouache. He describes his concept and
style as “basically abstract and that appeals to me so much.”

Egbelegbe Dance Predictably, Kpodoh’s main themes centre on
culture, environment and life in the Niger Delta. ‘Egbelegbele Dance’ is one of
the cultural gems of Bayelsa State; a dance of maidens in their pre and early
teens. “I have interpreted the rhythm and motion of these young girls in my own
way, using a bit of pointillism and incorporating a raffia-like style.

In ‘Wasted Wealth’ I depict oil spillage and pollution over time
in the Niger Delta to show that most of the resources are wasted and cause a
lot of ecological problems for the people. And in ‘Hope for Tomorrow’ (a
multi-coloured close-up of a face with a fish skeleton depicting one of the eyes)
it is a symbol that in the face of various threats to life, hunger,
environmental crisis and degradation, people are still living.”

His miniatures are licensed in the United Kingdom by the
Bridgeman Arts Library and one of them has been chosen by a top U.K publisher
as the book cover for a new edition of ‘King Solomon’s Mines’.

Michael Kpodoh describes himself as an experimental artist
“working in all art mediums: charcoal, pastel, pen and ink, oil and acrylic.”
His main theme is water pollution; with a teasing example of a huge charcoal on
canvas filled with scaleless fish.

In his bid not to limit himself he “uses different materials so
I’m not tied to a particular style.” ‘Who’s behind the Mask’, is a work of
current social commentary. “When Ijaw youths started using masks people called
them militants,” he explains, “but I believe that it is the politicians who are
putting on masks on the Niger Delta issue.” ‘Native Pot’ – a pen and ink work
on culinary culture, uses motifs and symbols; crocodile for the strength of the
Ijaw and fish for their principal occupation.

Michael Nwadinma is driven by issues. “I try to look at issues
that concern humanity and find ways to interpret them.” One such poignant work;
acrylic on canvas, is Acid Rain; a visual commentary on the national scare
after a prediction that there was going to be acid rain. “There was panic among
the citizens. Some people said it was a myth but it is real in the Niger
Delta,” Uwadinma justifies his painting.

In ‘Innocence’, a remarkable work of realism, which he argues “is not
influenced by photography,” depicts an ‘alien’/non-indigene woman whom he
“views as innocent of the agitations and pollution of the Niger Delta space.”
‘Full Moon’ is rich in symbols and themes. “It depicts an attainment of
success, richness and wealth; the fullness of it, and because we are talking
about the Niger Delta there is a whole lot of riches and wealth found there. So
it is a colourful canvas rich with symbols of people there!”

Like most young artists their ambitions are about the big hope that their
exposure in Lagos will be a springboard to greater heights. The stark reality
is that there isn’t an appreciative and big enough middle class in the Niger
Delta to patronise them. “Its mostly expatriates who patronise my work,” Kpodoh
admits, adding that, “Art is my calling and I believe that my art will go
beyond this level.”

For Uwadinma the Lagos exhibition was a big learning process. “I see myself
going beyond my imagination and I hope to become a big name in the art scene,
in the world!” President of Mangrove Artists, Perrin Oglafa, credits the idea
of forming the group to an exhibition they held at the 2009 History Concourse
in Port Harcourt. “We hope to raise the awareness of the Arts in Rivers and
Bayelsa States, by having annual exhibitions, and our coming out to Lagos is to
promote Art from the Niger Delta to a wider audience.”

Unaware of the opinions and
sentiments these three artists had earlier expressed, Dr. Frank Ugiomoh,
sculptor, art historian, critic and lecturer Department of Fine Art and Design,
University of Port Harcourt; who wrote the introduction of the exhibition
catalogue; described them as “emerging global artists” at the opening ceremony.
Chair of the occasion, Yemisi Shyllon, an avid collector and great patron of
the arts knowingly observed that the exhibition had “very beautiful art works”
with the apt rider that “It is a Jonathan effect!”

I miss my townsman and friend Victor Ehikhamenor. He left me
here in America and is in Nigeria enjoying life with armed robbers. Well, he
seems to be enjoying himself, judging from his wonderful stories. I am so
envious of him. Unlike here in America where nothing ever happens to you as
long as you pay the thieves who own your house and your life, there is always
delicious drama in Victor’s life.

The other day he was “arrested” by some polite armed robbers
who needed his iPhone, Blackberry, Canon SLR camera, two laptops and his brand
new iPad, Serena. Serena? Please do not ask me why a young man is naming inanimate
objects after animated beauties! There is lunacy in this life, Olorun ma je!

The armed robbers have not returned any of the toys, er tools,
that they borrowed from Victor. Not to worry, he has since replaced all of the
gadgets (in case the armed robbers are listening). He wrote to America and you
know white folks, they love to rescue poor African artists from the hell that
is Africa.

First they sent him a round-trip first class air ticket to come
back to America to narrate his wondrous breath-taking tale of being robbed by
mean, big, black armed robbers dressed in raffia skirts and carrying spears and
juju amulets. After each “reading” he was presented with an iPad, iPod, Sony
Vaio laptop and somebody’s wife. In case the armed robbers are reading my column,
there were ten readings. So Victor is now richer than he ever was before he was
robbed. He may be seen at the Mainland Bridge begging to be robbed again. I
think he wants to visit America again. He will travel first class.

Victor is a visual artist, besides being a spinner of fabulous
stories that white women love (“Oh Victor, he is so smart! O Victor, he is so
cute!”). He paints a lot of things. He makes bold strokes flash angrily along
dark moody canvasses, red here, blue there, many things that are beyond my
understanding. Life is a mystery, how these things come to one person and they
never come to me. It must be a kind of lunacy, in which case I am extremely
sane.

I can’t draw to save my life. Victor knows that I am art
illiterate and like many Nigerians who wallow gleefully in the misery of their
fellow Nigerians, he would always invite me to his studio here in America just
so he can watch me make a fool of myself. He has open houses, eclectic affairs
where he displays all his art “pieces” (that is what they call them, in case
you are privileged to see inside a studio).

Rich people who cannot draw if their lives depended on it, but
who “appreciate” art, come to the studio, usually by invitation only, and they
ooooh and aaaah the art pieces. They say really intelligent things about art
over wine and cheese and then they never fail to leave without buying a piece.
The pieces are usually expensive, say, $3,000 each.

Hell, I will not pay N3,000 Naira for a piece of art. My father
will personally murder me if he finds out I am that financially irresponsible.
Marry a second wife with the money, he would bark at me over the phone. My wife
doesn’t like that piece of advice.

The only reason I go to Victor’s studios is that he always has great cheeses
and wine and wonderful, super-smart intellectual ladies who happen to be
pretty. The Chilean Malbec that Victor thoughtfully provides helps the tongue
along. With Victor you never know what is art or nonsense in his studio. You
just keep talking while holding your wine glass and hope that no one notices
that you are a babbling idiot.

This one day, there was this fine intellectual goddess posing by abstract
art in the shape of a sweaty cheap-ass shirt hanging on the wall. She, this art
goddess smiled at me as I approached the art piece and I just knew she wanted
me badly. This would be easy. I had watched a documentary the night before on
how to comment on great art. I was prepared. You would have been proud of me. I
started singing, thusly: “Nice period piece. The abstract notion of a shirt
emptied of a physical disembodiment is haunting! The cubist angularity of its
hanging speaks volumes for the angst and alienation that exiles feel in
Babylon!” She kept grinning at me like you would an idiot showing off his ignorance.

I was beginning to think that this
one was a fellow idiot, only prettier. Suddenly, Victor came out, and
exclaimed, “Ah, Old man (That would be me! Victor is so rude!) I see you have
met Serena! Serena, thank you for watching my shirt for me!” And he took down
my art and proceeded to wear it. I slunk out of the house. I have not been back
to Victor’s studio.

The first stakeholders’ forum on tax incentives for Nigeria’s
motion picture industry was held at the Nigerian Film Corporation (NFC) annexe,
National Theatre, Lagos on July 15.

The meeting, jointly organised by the NFC and Federal Inland
Revenue Services (FIRS), was to enable interested parties to make input into
the draft proposal before it is forwarded to government. Filmmakers,
independent TV producers, heads of associations and guilds, representatives of
the National Film and Video Censors Board (NFCVB) and Federal Inland Revenue
Service, were among those at the meeting.

Tax is imperative

Opening the meeting, the managing director of the NFC, Afolabi
Adesanya, noted that the era of art patrons and marketers doling out money to
filmmakers is gone, hence filmmakers have to explore other means of funding
their productions.

He disclosed that the process of drawing up the tax incentives
started last year when a committee comprising the NFC and FIRS was inaugurated.
The team, he said, was tasked with recommending incentives that will integrate
film into the general economic development of the country.

Adesanya added that though the Nigerian film industry has not
done badly in the last decade, “it is yet to realise its potentials as creative
art and industry. Most policy makers still view film as mere entertainment,
thereby underplaying its potential to contribute to our Gross Domestic Product
(GDP) and national revenue base.”

He reiterated that the tax incentives, “will create a more
vibrant film industry, generate more employment, raise the level of Foreign
Direct Investment (FDI) into the sector, generate more revenue and income,
boost the pool of funds available for the development of the film industry
outside government treasury, and finally, promote socio-cultural development.”

Adesanya explained that stakeholders were invited to complement
the work of the committee because an all inclusive approach was needed.

Tex Benibo, executive director, operations, of the NFC,
presented some of the proposed incentives to the gathering before Adesoji
Omoyele of the FIRS went into the fine details. The official explained that the
ministry of finance considers some facts before giving tax incentives.
Government, he said, considers the legal basis of the tax relief; ascertains if
it is in tandem with the national tax policy; if it has precedence and conforms
to global best practices. He disclosed that though government wants to
streamline its tax incentives, “this can be pursued.”

No, it is not

The interaction that followed Omoyele’s presentation was
spirited, as some of the filmmakers saw nothing beneficial in the proposed
reliefs. “Is this tax incentive for us or the Federal Inland Revenue Services?
This is an industry that is comatose; a number of people haven’t worked in a
year or two. There are some instruments that are supposed to be here but are
not. I’m aware that NFC is working on the MOPICCON Bill [Movie Practitioners
Council of Nigeria], film fund, and film village, nothing has happened. Some of
us are beginning to think the chaos benefits government agencies. How are we
going to get this through? Because the NFC and FIRS are involved? Certain
structures are needed. We can’t move forward without an industry that is not
regulated. What we are doing right now, I don’t think it’s what is needed,”
stated Mahmood Ali Balogun.

Bond Emeruwa toed Balogun’s path. “How do you even determine
who is a filmmaker and who to tax?” he asked. He added that lack of unity among
filmmakers is responsible for the stunted growth of the sector.

For our future

Responding, Adesanya explained that the NFC is committed to the
success of the film policy, film fund, MOPICCON bill, and all other proposals
to aid the growth of the film industry. He added that work has been slow on the
bills because of the high turnover of ministers of information since 2005.

The former photojournalist/ reporter with ‘The Guardian’ stated
that the NFC has to start from scratch whenever a new minister is appointed,
and that all the bills were resubmitted to the minister of state for
information some weeks ago. “We remain committed to these bills. Go and make
private enquiries into the state of these bills,” the former general manager of
West African Motion Picture Company said.

He also responded to actor Segun Arinze’s question on what the
NFC is doing under the ministry of information, instead of culture. “That is
one of the dynamics of our society. The law establishing NFC is domiciled in
the ministry of information,” he replied. The NFC boss also tried to assure his
colleagues with, “We shouldn’t get discouraged. If you live in a dirty
environment, you will get malaria. You have to clear your environment first.
This exercise is for our future.”

Adesanya’s assurances, however, were not enough for
Ali-Balogun, who still asked, “What will stop this from going the way of
others? The success of this one is dependent on the other bills.”

“You must register your company if you want to benefit from
this. You need to have a corporate identity. You need to play your own vital
role to benefit from whatever incentives government gives,” Adesanya
reiterated.

Contributing to the discussion, cinematographer Isa Abubakar
expressed concern over the rebate on import duties on production equipment. He
noted that taxing such equipment does not make sense because lack of equipment
is responsible for the poor productions common in Nigeria.

Chris Friend of Video Lounge Nigeria supports paying tax but
wants the FIRS to justify why filmmakers should do so. “You must give us
something back if you want us to pay tax,” he said, adding that importation of
equipment shouldn’t attract any tax.

The stakeholders forum continues in Enugu and Kano.

Osogbo artist and
adopted son of the late Susanne Wenger, Sangodare Ajala, is the winner
of this year’s National Art Competition. The batik artist won the
coveted first prize for his monumental piece, ‘The Fire of Nigeria
Burns Still’. Ajala, who received a cash prize of N1.5 million, becomes
the third winner in the annual award.

Jointly organised
by African Artists’ Foundation (AAF) and Nigerian Breweries (NB) Plc,
this year’s edition, with the theme, ‘Chronicles of a Great Nation at
50′ commemorated Nigeria’s independence anniversary. The results of the
competition, for which there had been 30 contenders, were announced at
the Civic Centre, Victoria Island, Lagos, on July 21.

Another visual
artist, Stanley Dudu, placed second with his piece, titled, ‘New Dawn
at Fifty’, and won N1 million. Sculptor, Odogu Fidelis, was third
placed winner with his metal cast piece, ‘One People’; he took home a
N500,000 cheque.

The well attended
event was opened with an exhibition featuring all 30 shortlisted
entries; and one might say that, for a competition which aimed to
target “budding and emerging talent”, it went beyond it’s mark
somewhat.

Featured among the
exhibited works was a photography piece taken from a body of work
titled, ‘Hell From Heaven’ by Akintunde Akinleye. It had previously won
Akintunde recognition, as the only Nigerian to win the prestigious
World Press Photo Award. Also among shortlisted entries were the works
of Adolphus Opara, Jude Anogwih, and Lucy Azubuike, among others.

Following the
exhibition, Paul Hamers, the managing director of NB Plc, reiterated
the rationale and the achievements of the competition, noting that this
year’s edition, themed “to align with the 50th anniversary of our dear
nation, attracted far more participation by artists than previous
editions.”

Speaking further,
Hamers said his company’s sponsorship of the competition “remains part
of a broad initiative to support the promotion of arts as well as the
development of talents in various fields of endeavour.”

The director of
AAF, Azu Nwagbogu, said that the 2010 edition of the competition
recorded more than 300 entries. He said a jury comprising arts critics,
curators, and artists, shortlisted 50 entries, out of which the 30
finalists were selected. “We are encouraged by increased local interest
in the ever-increasing medium of creative expression and have observed
a significant rise in the standard of artworks submitted,” he remarked.

2010 MOBO award
winning singer, Nneka, thrilled the teeming audience to a musical
performance during a cocktail break before the announcement of winners.
Once the results were known, the night belonged to Sangodare Ajala, an
artist and religious traditionalist, often a fixture at the annual Osun
festival in Osogbo. The artist acknowledged the impact of the late
Wenger, also known as Adunni Olorisa, on his work, saying, “It was Mama
Susanne Wenger who insisted that we must have formal education,
particularly in the study of contemporary arts; and we are grateful
that we are reaping the good fruits.”

Ajala said his winning entry, the largest in the competition, “centres on oral tradition and myth of the Osogbo people.”

All the shortlisted artists were presented a certificate of
participation in the competition, while the three winners were
presented their cash prizes by Hamers and Nwagbogu.