Nigeria Content Online

This bitch of a life
By Carlos Moore
343PP;
Cassava Republic Press

The year 2010, the
13th anniversary of the death of ‘Abami Eda’, Fela Anikulapo-Kuti, was
undoubtedly an epiphany. It was a year like no other since his demise.
Broadway, the home of theatre in the United States, staged a musical
that took the world by storm in a manner the Abami Eda himself did. In
the same year, as part of ‘Felabration’–the annual event set aside by
his scions to mark his anniversary–the book ‘Fela: This Bitch of a
Life’ by Carlos Moore was published in Nigeria, 28 years after it was
published to world acclaim abroad.

A rebellious heritage

The release of
this book, which marked the first time it was published in Africa, has
added more value to the discourse of Fela the man, his music, life and
philosophy. Written primarily in the first-person narrative, Fela tells
his story candidly, starting from his long-awaited birth and the kind
of child his parents expected. In his words, his parents expected “the
meek, quiet type … [a] well-mannered” child but gave birth to him
instead. In Yoruba cosmology, it is believed that if a troublesome
child is not allowed to breathe life, it will disturb its mother
throughout hers. In other words, Fela was a child that had to be born
in order for his parents, and especially his mother, to have peace.

The biography
traces Fela’s lineage in a way that demonstrates he inherited his
rebellious streak from the Kuti family. His father, a priest, once
refused to remove his cap while passing by a military barracks where
the colonial British flag was flying. He refused to back down when
challenged by a military guard and the forceful removal of his cap with
a bayonet led to serious uproar in the city. This eventually led to the
relocation of the army barracks from within the city of Abeokuta to its
outskirts. The book also captures the essence of the mother who was
instrumental to the women’s protest against the Alake of Abeokuta for
imposing a tax on women.

In writing ‘This
Bitch of a Life’, Moore was able to have unrestricted access to Fela.
This is perhaps what others who have written books about the legend
never had. Fela was at once a man of the people and at the same time a
very hard man to get in the kind of close interaction that would have
resulted in writing a book as intimate as the one Moore eventually
wrote.

Another strong
point that Moore had over all other authorised biographers of the Abami
Eda was that he was able to give voices to all 27 band girls whom he
(the late Fela) affectionately referred to as queens. He married them
in one day. In justifying this rather bizarre marriage to 27 girls all
at once, he was trying to let the world know that the band girls, who
were being rejected or scorned, were all worthy to be married.

The queens

For the first time
readers are able to get a firsthand peep into the minds of the wives
and what they think of their man. Leading the pack is the numero uno,
Remi, mother of the clan. It must have been a tough task for Moore to
get her to talk about the man she loved. Many journalists would attest
to the fact that she was a most reserved woman, who hardly ever spoke
to the press. She was content with living her life in the background.
She was also a no-nonsense woman who was not bothered by her husband’s
ways with women.

She says, “The
only thing that bothered me was if any woman should come and try to act
big over me. I wouldn’t take that. It really didn’t bother me because
he had, you know, girlfriends outside. He never brought any woman to my
house.” (p183) Answering a question about why she stuck to him for over
two decades despite the tumult she says, “Most likely because I know
he’s honest and he’s really doing what he believes.” (p185) Remi
confesses that Fela taught her humanity and how to forgive. This is
something very positive and revealing as many perhaps would have
thought of him as a man who loves trouble. About the things that irked
or rubbed her wrong way about her man she admits, “His generosity is
the first. This was in the past and sometimes now. And I think
sometimes his humanity is misguided. I can be pretty hard with people.
You hurt me; I can’t accept anything else from you. He’s made me change
a bit and I don’t like that change, ‘cause if somebody does something
to me I don’t want to talk to them again. But through Fela I’ve learnt
to subdue that feeling.” (p185)

Many great and
hard men are known to calm down where their loved one is concerned.
Could Fela, with his public persona, be afraid of anyone? A man who
took on systems and one brutal military government after another? The
woman who should know him more than us all reveals, “I sometimes feel
Fela’s a little bit afraid of me. I really do. He may never show it or
admit it, but I feel it.” (p187) But that demonstrates that he was
human after all.

There are so many
more revelations about the lives of the women in Kalakuta Republic and
many reasons as to why they married him. One of such was Kikelemo, who
was asked what her ambition in life was, to which she replied, “I don’t
know.” When asked, “What do you want to do in life?” she said, “I just
like to be Fela’s wife.” (p228) He was such a captivating phenomenon.

Treasure trove

‘This Bitch of a
Life’ is no doubt a well-written and researched documentation of the
life of Fela. The long wait for its publication in Nigeria and Africa
has been well worth it. The publishers, Cassava Republic, have really
done well. If marketed well, this book will be one of their
bestsellers. The publishers have turned out to be an outfit to look out
for, as Cassava has become home to great books, such as Lola Shoneyin’s
‘The Secret Lives of Baba Segi’s Wives’, long listed for the
prestigious Orange Prize, and Adaobi Tricia Nwaubani’s ‘I Do Not Come
to You By Chance’, which won the Commonwealth regional prize.

However, there are some few typos that they need to correct in
subsequent reprints. These include Calabaris instead of Kalabari (38),
Buckner for Bucknor (p65), Zill Oniya for Zeal Onyia (p82), Urobho for
Urhobo (p221), Ejor for Ijaw (p229), Beni for Bini (p234), and Shosanyu
for Shosanyan (p237). Despite these little glitches, the book is a
wonderful treasure trove that must be explored. Time spent reading
through it is amply rewarded with a wealth of information and insights
on one of Africa’s greatest exports and gifts to the world.