There Was A Country By Chinua Achebe: A Viewpoint

 Just like yesterday when Professor Chinua Achebe unveiled the mask from his long-awaited controversial book ’’there was a country’’. A book that recounts the history of Biafra war- a civil warfare fought in Nigeria during the reign of the formal general head of state, Yakubu Gowon within 1967 to 1970. The book, after its release in year 2012 has been generating different stony and extolling controversies in defence or against of individual party concerned in the searing war that claimed the lives of more than thousand; and among many prominent Nigerians who witnessed the heart-piercing national crevice, without overlooking those who heard the lay from the eyewitnesses.

 Being a common man who is keenly concerned about the different awful tongue wagging, draconian annotations and supportive acclamation that the book has engendered within the nation and the globe entirely, I think having a voice will illuminate the matter more.  Achebe is a literary icon whose name has been ringing bell into the auricles of this generation. Things fall apart, his highly rated best- selling novel has been a text of all Ages. Being a typical African Igbo man who witnessed the horrendous ethnic antagonism, ‘semi-genocide’ and tribal rivalry between the late Odumegwu Ojukwu led force and the nation military forces, he believes that the side which he belongs -the eventual losers of the war was not at fault and thereby pointed accused finger at late chief Obafemi Awolowo , the then financial minister and Yoruba elder statesman and other  well known Hausa-Yoruba politicians; that they were the ones who blew pepper of war into the eye of Igbos and made them battle internal dearth, poverty-stricken wants out of their flaming hatred for the Igbo indigenes, which later resulted into inevitable genocide of the innocent Igbo women, children and the Biafran militia. Though many of the Awolowo’s contemporaries have spoken on his behalf,  (a rejoinder that seems a sent back response of chief Awolowo to professor Achebe from the grave), claiming that all what Achebe recounts in his book concerning  him are blatant lies distanced from truth; that Awo who Achebe portrayed as someone beating the drum of ‘tear-apart’ was not the one denied the Igbos of their grant from the federal government and stopped importation of food to the Eastern part; and that Igbo were their greatest enemies who summoned war for themselves.

 In an open-door interview with one of the Awoites, the interviewee established the fact that after the war, late chief Jeremiah Awolowo wrote a reintegrating letters to Achebe who was in abroad by then and some prominent Igbo elder statesmen who had flown out of the country at the onset or before the commencement of the war that they should come back to their fatherland for the war had ended and the nation was again in harmony and amity. He also made it clear that all the Igbos shares of the national cake denied them during the war were later sent back to them.

But my own opinion is far different from the political juxtaposition and socio-economic point of view from which the book and its author are judged. I am mainly concerned about the assertion of many Nigerians that Achebe is a villain and foe of progress; that he shouldn’t have released the book when the nation is still in hot soup of economic liquidation, political imbalance and turbulence, unstable security coupled with the atrocious insurgence of the self-acclaimed religion-coated Boko-haramists, Niger-Delta militancy, public rumpus and hullaballoo which have grown wings and been the order of the day. As a literary-minded individual, I believe that art should not be for art sakes.

 Literature should be an open window to historical collections and contemporary developments in the creation of art which can be located within the ambits of the society; a mirror through which the societal issues are sighted with passion, credited if deem fit and condemned woefully if that is what taken through the pen. The fact that Chinua Achebe released his book while the nation is still in the grime and gridlock of political asymmetry is not the matter that should be deemed fit of causing headache or any unnecessary alarm and brouhaha, but all what the book itself addresses with close proximity to the issues on ground are what should be king on our hearts. 

 More than two decades now, Nigeria has been in blood-curdling battle with corruption in every sector. People are clamouring on daily basis without instantaneous succour; many Nigerians are homeless, hopeless in their fatherland to the point that many had committed suicide when the financial responsibilities have become inescapable burdens. The rate at which social vices get escalatorily aggravated is enough to drown this nation into the pool of calamity if not for the inestimable mercy of God on innocents. Nigeria has many best brains all over the world that could have been the sources of prides and joy for this nation, but who dares come back when those at home are dying like candles in the struggles for the survival of the fittest in the wind. I wonder why we are blaming these ‘lookers- of- home at –far’ in another countries, contributing towards the progress of someone’s fatherland. No wonder, best-brains in literary realm and award-wining Nigerian writers like Helon Habila, Ben Okri, Chimanda Ngozi Adichie, Professor Adebayo William, among others who are also world widely known in their different fields of study have flown for green pasture in abroad.

 Coupled with these is the failure of scholars like Achebe and Osundare who should have permanently come back home at their age but insist on having their last breath overseas- what a pitiable mind-bending loss for this Nation!  In my view, Achebe doesn’t deserve culpability for the message of his book because it is what known that Nigeria is still in the soup of bad governance. Why that the federal government has never aimed at finding any way-out to these afore-stated hindrances in spite that Nigerian government does seek international aids from world bodies and U.S? No average Nigerian will deny the fact that the elephant share of these aids is being siphoned into the foreign accounts of top Nigerian politicians. They live in immeasurable ecstasy and untold opulence while crumb is due to the masses of over one hundred and fifty million populations. It should be noted that most of the parts where Achebe comes from are in putrefying insolvency and destitution, despite the fact that ninety-percent of national resources is derived from these places, yet the federal government arm folds itself without giving hope for these inhabitants.  No wonder these people have been clamouring for separation.

 Another civil war is looming at the corner with the present threat of the Odinma people to break up from Nigeria.  And in order not to witness this brutal ethnic estrangement and tribal rupture again in this nation, Professor Chinua Achebe tries to call our attention in his book ’’There Was a Country’’. His book encompasses contemporary societal relevance which every Nigerian is unavoidably concerned. What Achebe does (which I can describe as self re-awakening) is one of the objectives which literature has come to address. We should not forget that it was in this war that Christopher Okigbo, one of the Nigerian poets of early sixties and others who we do not have their names in the book of memory lost their precious lives. Why that Nigerian government has never marked a day for their remembrance? These people could have by now been good ambassadors of Nigeria in anywhere they may be if rifles and bomb of war have not truncated their lives and deafened their ears to the anguished clamour of their brethren and other casualties left behind. What of many innocent women and children who succumbed and kowtowed to death in the war? Who can say if those massacred innocent lads will take Nigeria to Promised Land?

 I am of the opinion that ‘’There Was a Country’’ is a book that calls for close appraisal of this nation from the day it was amalgamated and named Nigeria. It is not Achebe’s book that will address the issues concerning humanity and social relevance.  Miss Stowe’s book ‘’Uncle Tom’s Cabin’’ was one of the books directly noted for movement against slavery in U.S.A; writers like Charles Dickens have used their books as instrument against societal malignance and socio-political indecency. Foremost African poets like Leopold Sedar Senghor and David Diop, and Dennis Brutus fought against racial discrimination weaponed against Black-Africans by the Whites. We have seen many works of literature which were the catalysts behind positive change and reformation, and if There Was A Country can also revive that wave of consciousness from debris of wounded Nigerian by merging the present situation with the scenarios of civil war, I believe the hope of the coming ’Messiah’ and promised land will not be so long as it seems presently.

                                        

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To The Young Poets

       

 Dear

              Apostles

                             Of pen

Going to the realm of struggling centuries

 I salute your courage

 Now that we have put on your tongue

Jarring syllables that dread the shadow of beast

To banquet till eternity

 As toothed gums of elder soften

Kola nut into gentle munch of purpled pieces

My teeth gnashes in the count of your encomium

Welcome to the world

Where pen imparts the anecdote of epochs

That

       Sword

                 In your hand

                                 Is the pen

That mends the torn garment of word

Through you we shall sight the glory of new moon

For you have pattered out of the cradle

To the world bejewelled by transition

Through your pen we shall hearken

The song of dawn from canticles of all Ages

You are the minstrels of night

Your serenades heal the wounded heart

And halt the wailing of nocturnal hours

You are the

                   Singers of

                                Searing

                                           Serenades;

The voice in the gong of town-carrier

The town crier of keen mythology

And the phonemes in the fabric of pen

Remember the journey beyond river Niger

Beyond the depth of gorge and mountain Kilimanjaro

Beyond last terrain of seventh heaven

Where feathered whydahs hover

And sing the ballad of cacophonous melody

There is

            Nexus

                 Between

                                Us

Since you are out of darkness

And found pen in your palm

We are the comrades from

The same womb of rising sun

We know the folklore of dawn and dusk

But tell me

What will the world fall back on if

Our pen dies in sullen silence?

You are the owners of pen

And shapers of taste

It is you that world looks on

Let not the dreams die!

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Virginity In The Twenty-Fourth Century: How Real?

Virginity has been a word of immense personal dignity, pride and virtue especially for any lady who understands what it weighs till the time it will be fully honored. Its honour is due only to the lady who hasn’t engaged in any illegal sexual intercourse right from her adolescent age till the night of her wedding. According to Wikipedia, “virginity is the state of a person who has never engaged in sexual intercourse...  The concept of virginity has traditionally involved sexual abstinence before marriage and then to engage in sexual acts only with marriage partner. It usually involves moral or religious issues and can have consequences in terms of social status and in interpersonal relationship”. Since God has created male and female, he has been bestowing female with a special honor of being a virgin which pride shall be fully fulfilled when kept to be discovered by someone that her cap fits. This is reason some cultures associate it with ritual importance, impurity, personal chastity, religious significance   socio-cultural coupled with moral significance; hence Hanne Blank said “virginity reflects no known biological imperative and grants no demonstrable evolutionary advantage.” In parts of the world, the first sexual intercourse is very important for female as many cultures consider it to be important personal milestone.  It is believed that any lady found un-deflowered has to be treated with absolute care by her husband. She is said to be a source of honour to her family and a priceless jewel to her husband‘s family; any child given birth to by her is believed to be an inestimable gift from God. In some parts in West Africa, there has been a norms and spiritual notion that virgins are so cherished by gods; any ritualistic sacrifice to be offered to them has to be spear-headedly carried out by someone who hasn’t sold herself for ephemeral love of adolescence. The enamoring part of this is that loss of virginity before the marriage is a matter of deep personal shame as it is closely interwoven with personal and even family honour. The first sex to be had by a female determines the success of her marriage whether she is invaluable asset or ordinary instrument of sex and child-bearing to her husband. If she is not however found to be as expected, the family of bridegroom has no choice than to accept their destiny but the woe will always be on her family as they will be negatively wagged tongues at and nothing besides housing of matches, empty gourd will be sent to her family, symbolizing that the she is not found virgin and has thereby brought indelible shame to them. However the prevalence of virginity varies from one culture to the others. Some cultures place more honor to it while some do not, depending on their individual belief.  Some Arabian cultures implore female to marry at early age so as to prevent losing her virginity due to some circumstances besides sex. Engaging in sexual intercourse without being married further subjects the involvers into severe penalty. Research shows that in many modern-day Western cultures, losing virginity is not that valued and sexual abstinence is thoroughly discouraged especially in modern days of twenty-fourth century when moral and personal pride of being a flowered girl is lost and glory for being a Holy Mary is buried in oblivion.

 

 Many researches I have done both on social networks and among peers concerning if there are still virgins in this twenty-fourth century of ours. Many a time I have had one-on-one dialogue and besought from young lovers of today if we can still come across someone with this eternal pride, but left agape with different responses from them. The worst part of it is the mockery rejoinders of ladies on this matter. A  lady once told me that if I want a new ‘holy Mary’, what I can do is to start nursing a young girl of five from her primary school till the time she will fathom the pride in  virginity and henceforth keeps it for me till the ripe time I will make the most use of her beauty. To be candid, I can say seventy percentages of men wants their future partners virgin, despite that they are thieves in love. I met a guy who declared to me openly that she has defiled and denied many ladies of their virgin hood, though he will never marry them, but he will be happy if he can be fortunate to get virgin as wife in future to come. A guy also told me that the day he discovered that is girlfriend who has been lying for him before was not a virgin, he blatantly told her that the relationship has reached its stoppage. These indeed show that we still have many salivating for untouched maidens as wives but the question is who wants to make the sacrifice?

According to neo-classical writer, John Gay in his Beggars Opera, “virgins are like the fair flower in its luster, which in the garden enamels the ground; near it the bee in play flutter and cluster.  Butterflies frolick around.  But when once plucked, it is no longer alluring. To Covent-garden it is sent as yet sweet, there fades and shrinks, and grows past all enduring, Rots, stinks and dies, and is trod under the feet.” Looking at this aphorism, it gives full details of what virginity worths in the society, if virgins don’t give ground for false lurkers to break through the rule of their decency and let their passion run away with their sense. Because when woman considers her beauty, she is unreasonable in her demand for she wishes to be loved forever by her lover as she loves herself, till she loses her pride to false tales of Cupid unknowingly. In this century, I have seen ladies sold her pride for money. I do wonder if these ladies know what they posses. This is the cogent reason many do not have husband; those who have see their matrimonial home as dungeon of hell for them and later seek for divorce as quick alternative when their partners can no longer bear the pain of the wound. No wonder, many female singers and actresses don’t have married partner yet at the time they are supposed to-who wants to marry a bitch and someone who has metamorphosed herself into social stigma.  I read from ‘THE WEEK’ online webzine that Catalina Migliorini, a young twenty years old Brazilian and a student of physical and heath education sold her virginity for $780,000 to a Japanese man she met online and that big share from the money would be donated to home of poverty-stricken families. But is this a genuine   reason for losing her pride? This typifies mediocrity out of parochial thinking and short -mindedness;  it portrays that in this twenty fourth century, the rate at which virginity is cherished is reducing drastically and day by day, the close perspective at which women are rendered valueless and instrument of sex only by men in the society has grown wing. They hence say ‘women are of the same feathers which need to be flocked together’.

In nutshell, I believe virgins are still common but they are protecting themselves against wolf which sexual harassment has turned the society to. Mothers and individual have work to do to revive the dying glory of virginity in this century. It is responsibility of mothers to tutor their female off springs on the need to preserve themselves for their married partners instantly they observe they have reached the stage that ‘the big brothers will be looking for their innocent chicks to strangle’.   Females should also understand the fact that it is what kept weighs worth.  No man will be happy for not meeting his wife as virgin especially if he has been the type that hasn’t involved in the game of this nonentity.  A friend told me that his brother jilted the lady he was dating before, having realized that she is empty barrel not worth of being garnishly preserved.

                                       

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The Year Of The Locust By Adebayo William: A Review

‘’. . . He had the honesty, courage and integrity to face up to reality and admit his guilty . . . he was a severely flawed man. He could be mean, vain, suspicious, malicious, and vindictive, but it was his heroic quality that captured the popular imagination at the end.’’ 

I intentionally started reviewing this book with the above important locus classicus said by two major characters in the book based on their individual subjective perspective on their friend, Dr. Dale who is happened to be the main character of the book. This book, having read it twice with deep concentration and critical perusal, I saw no reason why I shouldn’t unsheathe my pen from its casing if that is what it takes to subject the book to criticism. My second reading, two years after the first is a blessing especially as my eyes are made opened to the basic facts and the major incidents that bring about the plot of the book woven round sublimity in close proximity to the world of feminism and masculine vis-a-vis issues to social imbalance in the Nigerian university and unforgettably, issues surrounding matrimony. The book, being a tragedy makes it more emotional. The moments of the protagonist, Dr. Dale from his cradle to grave call for passion and affection.

Dr. Dale Joseph is presented eccentric, snobbish, and non-conformist university lecturer who lives smugly in the world of his own. Because of his no-nonsense-ness, many who should have been friends turn out to be foes. He is tagged sadist of the highest order due to his pinching criticism on government, society, and individuals. Despite this, the whole university regards and respects him because of his incomparable brilliance, intellectualism and his power of oration. It is believed that he is the greatest brain to have lectured in the department and the best read lecturer on campus. On many occasions, he has been summoned by government and university management over his public draconian lectures which always generate brouhaha and controversy; he is indeed plague at the eye of everybody including his own wife and only daughter, Lolu who always stones him with syllables of hot words for his high temperedness and maltreatment towards them. Being a studious lecturer, he hates being labelled with the narrow reputation of scholarship. He has always determined never to be found in the race of murderous drudgery of awarding grades to female students or demanding cash from male counterpart as many lecturers do. He has always been on his words till he gets stormed by strange malady that calls for different tongue wagging on campus thereby presents him a hero who should be held sympathy at last. He later becomes gregarious to everybody afterwards with the help of his best friends, Dr.jaiye and Dr.Jackson before the flaming rumour fills the campus that he is in love with his student, Titi.

Undoubtedly, he has been in love with Titi after his matrimony seems doomed. All he wants for them is to be in solitude and alone in the world. And both travel out of the place where he is hated. The incident that aggravates the matter is when someone confirms their hidden relationship in his presence. When he is unable to cope with public disgrace coupled with regret and remorse of his past, he decides to drag himself out of the peculiar mess and choose suicide as the best alternative. After his death, huge sympathizers and those far from him when he is alive have no choice than to regard him hero who fights for the society and stands on platform of truth.

The book is although a complete tragedy of the highest other, yet we still need to consider the significant lessons derived from it. Some heroes while alive are not cherished until they die; some are even martyred and later immortalised after their death. The fact that the book presents an hero that can withstand the whelming and engulfing malice of the society gives hope for the masses; making the book an harbinger of hope. I salute the confidence of the book for looking into the problem of matrimony which has grown wing in the society, especially on the side of women.  It is a real fact that women are being subjected to seventy percent of the societal problem. They are being maltreated and made to face untold hardship. Mrs Dale is a replica of this in the text.  She is made to battle dying love from her husband before her little daughter who has been on her side turns out to be her foe. I like the way the book portrays friendship and cordiality. When seems to people that your principle is somehow draconian, they may find it difficult to cope with you, less the proximity between you and them is so close and lucid. Who can say if Dr Jaiye and Dr Johnson who have been Dale’s greatest enemy on campus can turn out to be his close friends? This is friendship indeed! Any long-lasting friendship must have a thin pedigree. These two gurus try to show their concern for Dale even while in hospital bed and after death asunders them. Similarly, I like the way and manner the plot events are intertwined, interconnected and interwoven via the technique of suspense and flashback. The flashback of Dale’s early village life and a problem faced as an orphan enable the reader to understand better where Dr Dale semi-lunatic and behavioural principle emerges from. The foreshadowing of his death in Lolu’s dream enables the book to blend between realism and fantasy of dream.

However, The Year of the Locust is a kind of book that leaves heart in eternal tragedy. Why is it that Dale dies after his enemies have begun to love and him see him as hero; why is it that the time his moon comes out of the shadowy sky is when he decides to commit suicide? Why is it that he has to die after he has realised his past errors and has remosed for it? I believe in the work of destiny but what the book presents as the cause of Dale’s death does not worth at all.  Can we also say the fact that Mrs Dale doesn’t have joy of matrimony till the last page of the book is hope for women? No! The encompassing portrayal of Mrs Dale,  despite her flaming love for her husband and messes she is subjected to among her female colleagues, without any reward besides tragedy upon tragedy, doesn’t give hope to women facing the same in the society. The portrayal of Lolu’s amazing behaviour, at her age subjects the book to criticism.

An Exclusive With Poet Ajeyemi Wasiu

These poems are written by a young owlet, Ajeyemi Wasiu who just pattered out of cradle to find his talent in writing. He sent these poems to me for editing.



 POEM ONE: POLITHIEFCIANS ARE HERE

The polithiefcians are here again with guns

The blood of innocents about to be flowing again

In the silent breeze

Mouth about to stop chewing and body about

To be tormented by hungry dearth

The polithiefcians are here again

Villages, cities, and streets about silenced

Like moonless night

The battle- mongers and country dogs about

Obeying their masters like sheep in the hand of shepherd

Without considering where nail that pinches the poor

But skew against down-trodden for reward of’ thank you’ from Oga

Vermin of leaders that loot public money into foreign account

In the air-conditioned they live and forget those at the back

The polithiefcians are here again

To leave the country in another anguish and cry

To leave us in another bombshell of painful solitary- war without solace

The polithiefcian are here again indeed

But only to make murmur of lies to silence our clamour

Before the election they came our house at night

From streets to streets, from hamlet to hamlet

They lured us with their sugared smiles

And a well crafted bill boards and poster around

And jingles to ensnare us

But in return they come back like leopard

About to devour us.

POEM TWO: LOVE LORN

Since it was you my heart was given

Since it was you

In a cloudy night

And a whistling wind

In all thin season

Why today you abash me like dried leaves

You pierce my heart in shambolic manner

You contempt my heart like gloomed flowers

It is you!

The distresses of my mind

Your beauty bisects my heart in solitary ecstasy

Your beauty that brightens the African sky

Makes my love bodacious like summer night

Like costly garment and African attire

Like invaluable jewel hanging on Black damsel’s neck

 Since it was you

Your anomalous attitude cannot infuriate me

But

     To

        Conjure

                     Me

 

Asare Konadu's A Woman In Her Prime: A Review

 

     
Besides Chinua Achebe’s things fall, if there is any African novel that portrays the African society with its sacrosanct beliefs concerning women, it will be Asare Konadu’s A Women in Her Prime; if there is any traditional African novel that treats the theme of barrenness as a fatal misfortune for African women besides Buchi Emecheta’s The Joys of Motherhood, it would rather be A Woman in Her Prime. African literature has got to the level of resurging the old African antiquity and merged it with the present for close juxtaposition. The fact that Asare Konadu’s book treats the universal belief of traditional African society on gods as the givers of glory and destroyers of hope has to be considered.

Two things, after reading the book for the second time made me review it: the colourful presentation of traditional African society by the book; and the emotion that surrounds the employment of the book’s diction aimed at meeting the soul of common reader who may not be an African and create the eagerness to know more about traditional African cultural heritage. In the novel, males are regarded as the ‘child givers’ as said by Opanin Owufu statement in the text. Any woman who fails to bear children almost has the blame and labeled ‘useless’. The misfortune of the protagonist of the novel, Aduwa Pokuwa is a true revelation that child bearing is very important for female, as a woman found to be barren as desert cannot be reckoned with in the society. Throughout the novel, there exists conflict between god and God, as great god Tano which Pokuwa has been offering sacrifices for before is relegated as being powerless and all fates are entrusted in God who Pokuwa believes to have erased the indelible mark of barrenness and pessimism from her bosom.

Pokuwa has been a successful farmer and industrious woman well reckoned with in the village of Brenhoma from the onset of her marriage to Kofi Dafo but the joy of being happy in her prime  denies her as she still remains a barren in the middle of her age. This apprehension of barrenness makes her divorce her first and  second husband  before meeting Kwadwo Fordwuo who has been there for her not as only husband but also father through his inestimable patience, caressing advices, sympathy and charm, though his fatherhood has been established in another woman. Many years gone without her prayers answered by great Tano and “if she failed to make this sacrifices and lost her chance of child-bearing, her fate as a barren would be made certain. Then her old age would be doomed in loneliness (PG13)’’. Kwadwo Fordwuo, being a good husband, always “sat thinking of how he had prayed and his feet brushed the dew. He had called on great Tano to make it possible for Pokuwa to bear a child.’’ (PG21), before she decides to reject mother’s interference and recourse to charm, drug sacrifices to ensure the taste of joy embedded in motherhood and leave her fate to supreme God, Nye. Her resignation from being submissive to Tano again, according to her, wipes her tears of barrenness, though her mother who has been in whelming entries with great Tano believes he does it. She is eventually left with tale of joyance to tell after discovers she is pregnant, what indeed a women in her prime she is!

Analytically, the book is filled with imageries worthy of easy envisage; it has to be kudosed for the type of diction employed. The fact that the diction is emotionally detailed amounts the readers to critical evaluation of African society which deems the book fit of being appreciated.

When talking African literature and women, it is compulsory we insightfully consider the problem faced by them in the society. Literature is a window to life and that is the main reason we can’t forget the heart-taken roles of Nnu-ego in Buchi Emechta’s joys of motherhood and Pokuwa in a women in her prime in order to exhibit the hindrances women are made to battle within African vicinity.  But there is hope for whenever there is a will there must be way. Pokuwa, having won over her barrenness saves the book from being tragic and gives hope for African women. Correspondingly, I find the interconnectivity and intertwining of the sub plots to the main one endearing. Every event related along the major storyline is typically African.

However, Asare Konadu’s a woman in her prime leaves the readers in ‘happy suspense’ as we are veiled of what happens to Pokuwa if perhaps she gives birth to the child or another thing ensues. It could be recalled that Pokuwa while with her first husband has miscarriage due to what the priest believes to be her lackadaisical care-freeness towards great god Tano’s orders.  Then if Pokuwa still repeats this again, who knows if Tano may get angered and lead to another brutal miscarriage. Also, by portraying Pokuwa in against to the general belief ascribed to the gods is subjective to the author.

Review Of Gege Baseran's The Exit Of Alagbara

Over a decade back, African writers have emerged the social responsibility of weaponising African society, and have the voice of down-trodden masses heard in their books. This is so as a result of socio-economic and brutal hardship, coupled with societal imbalance which African society is being subjected to by acute leadership failure and overwhelming corruption. Gege Baseran’s play, the exit of Alagbara , just like other books of contemporary African writers is a reactionary text that aims at subjecting the Nigerian society, where the book emerges from to absolute scrutiny; hence the origin of this can be undoubtedly  traced to neo-classical writers like John Dryden, Alexander Pope, William Congreve and others who wrote purposely to save hope of masses from the jaws of jaguars of political tyrants who have turned the nation to hostile graveyard and moribund mortuaries, where hopes sing threnodies of pain every day.

The book gives a vast microscopic view of Nigerian society by building the plot around a young man Bodunrin who seems to be harbinger of hope for the jackbooted hoi polloi. The protagonist, having being born into abject poverty, is forced to leave university where it is assumed to have been studying law before joining police force, so as to bridge-gap between poverty and sustainability. He later discovers himself as the only star in the cloudy sky of the sector as those around him seem to be fiendish cohorts and instrument of corruption.  Bodunrin character is not like Wilston Smith of George Orwell’s 1984 who later succumbs to the will of big brother after severe hardship and unbearable torment. He determines to die on the truth rather than being labelled as instrument of the nation peculiar mess. Even when Rikuyo and Orandiran come to him for another devious work to be done, he remains the Jesus of his time. The portrayal of inspector Odaran in the play portrays the rate which corruption has engulfed the men-in-black of the security sector of Nigeria. The book subjects Inspector Odanran , Bodunrin’s boss to public questioning and criticism as he  makes an agreement with notorious power-drunk  political tyrant senator Alagbara, who perpetrates evil at the corridor of good Samaritanism  by back-boning the church of charlatanism, to give a false witness in the court of law over the issue of electoral malpractices he is being accused of. The rejection of Bodurin of this offer almost causes his untimely death as he is being shot by unknown gun men at the night of the day he promises give witness against Senator Alagbara before justice.

The man of truth shall never die in the position of lie as the popular adage says. Bodurin is rescued and taken to a hospital where he survives death. Alagbara eventually dies of heart attack in the court while inspector Odaran and his same-minded and egocentric boys- Jabalu, Rikuyo, Orandiran are shot by unknown anger-whelmed Protestants.The character of Alagbara is indeed the portrayal of vulturism and vulturistic attitudes that have captured every sector of Nigeria. Having being a satire, the idea of the book  is very realistic in African society which the book  finds its origin. I vividly believe that seeing young writers like Beseran, addressing the issue of societal imbalance will undoubtedly cut down the wing political decadence and vulturistic ideology which have been the order of the day. The book is a harbinger of hope to common man and it amounts Nigerian society to humour for wave of consciousness to be made closely near to every soul. Similarly, I believe the play is of the opinion that there must always be a space for masses to get themselves out the squalors of marauding monsters, masquerading themselves as subservient leaders. Exit of Alagbara is a giver of hope. Despite the degree of overwhelming corruption encapsulating the storyline, the play seems to have seen hope hanging somewhere even where there seems to be dark for the oppressed.

The portrayal of Bodurin typifies optimism. Though the oppressed ones may be made arm folded, the book is also of the opinion that it is the hoi polloi that will say ‘No’ to political imbalance of their society. No Messiah will fall from the sky because man is the cause of change. By this, the ideology that ‘’ he who rejects the beacon of money shall answer the call of poverty’’ shall be absolutely rendered vanished.  While perusing through the book, I found it to be woven around sublimity.  The writer shows himself as someone that can control language. The introduction of the narrator at the initial and end of the play makes it more under stable and charming. 

However, the title of the book to me sounds local and crude compared to other books of contemporary African writers. Though the title portrays temporariness of human wish, Baseran should have used a copious and general title rather than one pinpointing at the repercussion of getting to the seat of government by do-or-die alone.  A literary work of art is a window to the world. Every literary work of art is expected to shed light to gloom. Though the rescue of Bodurin after being shot is dues ex machina usually employed by playwright to rescue doomed actor, the way it is applied is not blatant and more explicit to deserve the play kudos. For society like Nigeria, seeing a Good Samaritan like the doctor who rescues Bodurin is very rare and uncommon. The fact that Bodurin is aided out of his situation is ironic in the environment the book emerges, which has to be critically subjected to criticism.

Meet The Young Poet, Tunde Oladosu

The day I met poet Tunde was like a yesterday.  It was a day full of divine intervention because the circumstance that surrounded it went beyond my imagination. Since we have been living together like heavenly-coupled twin brothers, I always see him as someone with flaming passion and flair for literary writing but whose moon is still under the tutelage of lurking cloud of time. Besides being in the same department and from the same region, I undoubtedly find him friendly, mature, determined, humble, and cool-headed. He is indeed someone always ready to learn. Having being a literary critic cum writer, his works has always been a stream of muse for me. He is presently the production manager of Association of Nigerian Authors (ANA), OAUIFE students’ wing. His poem ‘SAKI, I AM PROUD OF YOU’ was sent to me for editing. The poem goes thus:

 

                

Let me echo my sonorous voice for you

Saki Ogun o ro kin . . .

Like a pestle to its mortar

Your love dazzles at the beneath of my bosom

I am your memory, Agbede o ro bata

For in my heart I nurse the ecstasy of your fatherly caresses  

Saki my dear homeland

 If ship of life paddles me to unknown sojourns

How will my wayfarer forget his home after the voyages?

Through your glittering eye

I will always free-walk in the dark

I know my Saki

Yes I know

Only those with inner eye

Can value your sacrosanct presence

Never will I finger-point my left hand to you

For I am not a bastard who

Gazes his father with whelming arrogance

Our dance a jo jo

Our ancestral drum a jo lu

He who knows not the herbs

Calls it bush vegetable

Saki

The only mahogany that

Shakes the dense forest

Songs Of Absence And Despair By Toni Kan

It is rare to see contemporary modern African writers addressing the issue of economic dire and hardship; anguish of being away from one’s kin, societal doom coupled with pain arising from missing some one loved, without being political. It is rare to see African writers being creatively aware of another platform of expressing the socio-political scenario of African society without being biased either by building the universal idea of their works on bad governance or lack of trust in leadership and followership which has always being the order of the day in the new dimension of African literature. I believe Toni Kan has brought the best by bringing his pen out of the dusty and boring general status qou of African literature being subjected to politics and squeezed his stream of consciousness for new juice of knowledge to present reality without being gullible of politi-ture which younger writers inherited from foremost African writers.

         Toni Kan’s song of absence and despair is a realistic collection of poem that laments for those who are being forced out of their land because of unbearable economic hardship and could not return back. Rather, they get united again to their families and friends through the space less window of social network and cash exchange western union, which are not enough to re-learn love back between husband and wife, father and children, mother and children who are, for a long period of time being forcedly made to gaze each side afar by hard-bitten inevitable torment of poverty, and there by aims at snatching hope from the dreadful jaw of despair.

        The poem is full of memories of manifold moments- love, absence, despair from the first poem ‘night falls gently like leaves in an autumn’ to the last one ‘a very young girl with enormous breast. Kan ,having got the ideology from a Chilean poet, Pablo Neruda, he is  of the fact that there is need for portrayal of love’s torment which almost all parts of the globe are subjected to. The poems portray love as full of agonies, bitter melodies and baked moments, especially in a situation where lovers who are expected to be enjoying the game of Cupid find each other a lonely minstrel on deserted street of loneliness without any help. No wonder, ‘the night falls like leaves in an autumn’ expresses loneliness as an element of despair.

 In ‘want to see my dad’, and ‘loneliness has grown muscle’, the poet recalls the fall-out of one’s lover absence as being heart-piercing. He says:

      I mourn my husband

      Though he is not dead

      The distance between us

       Yawns like a graveyard

     I am wet with tears                     

Throughout the poem, I wonder why the poet assumes the responsibility of being the victim of absence and despair; Perhaps to bring the pains of absence close to common man. There is undisputable fact that the collection addresses the issue of immortality and death with ‘all I have now are memories’ and one day gone, and i am not tatter’ as copious instances. Though eye may be made far from eye by death, the memories of yesterday and last night when cordiality was the song of village cannot be forever kept in oblivion. And for those whose days are gone, their memories shall ever be caressed in the vessel of remembrance till eyes shall meet again on the lane of togetherness.

      The collection is a memories laced with bitter and distasteful melody filled with powerful imageries that wake slumbering passion and dying affection from being transient but eternal. Laconicity is employed in the poems. The fact that its language is simple, direct and straight-forward amounts it to accolades. I see the collection as a clarion call to those buffeted by economic shipwreck and melt-down with sense of consciousness for understanding among one another. What really impresses me most is the sequential arrangement of the poems with the theme built around coherence and cohesive subject matter.

   Contrarily, there are still many lapses which call for other-side of the collection. It is not only a bringer of tears but also the killer of hope. Though the it aims at snatching hope from the jaw of despair, throughout the poem, there is no place for hope to be seen, rather pains, tears, despair, nostalgic moments that evoke fears make the pages of the collection busy. We should also note that the collection is a similitude replica of Pablo Neruda’s ‘song of and love’ making it sounds plagiaristic. Lastly, there is no mutual correlation and corroboration between its title and the circumventing aim of the book. They are contradictory and ironic!

      

Voice Of The Owlet: A Poem

 










I have suffered through

The decades of rehearsed promises

Where tattered hope hangs in sequence

Of configured oblivion

I have seen pomaded falsehood

Webbing the nation in the blur

Of cloudy mediocrity

My pen has journeyed across manifold cantos

 Of deserted pages

Where vultures hangs around the skies

And stone the earth with threnodies of pains

Why I am still a faceless shadow?

In the arid desert of barren hopes

My tongue is frail of warbling lullabies

For the dampened waives and sore-footed wayfarers

For I have perused through the journals

And catalogues of memories

To see pages of busy histories burdened with lies and forlornness

I have stridden on the dusty street

Bejewelled with pinching tongues of thorns and nails

I have gone far through the moonless night of dense forest

Where different sighs of bitter melodies

Set curious ear of pen ablaze

I have sighted many flowers of luring fragrances

Heaped like garbage in dust-infested bin

And thought they died for love

I wandered in deep stream of thought

To find no reason why son of butcher feast on carrion and bones;

Why daughter of cloth-seller

Dance in the half-naked rags

In the maze of frenzied orgy

Why curses on the roof of hope

Why streets, always painted with blood of innocents

Why songs of my village convoyed with cantos of dirges and elegies

They say the presence of market elders

Heals the head of mad lad

Why monsters on the dark street for

Blood of jay-walking wanderers to guzzle

Tell the town-carriers!

That egotism is the hymnodies of king and his fiendish cohort

Who blemish the eye of hope

At the silent hours of night

Tell those power-propelled monsters

Who cleanse their ears with son of mortars?

 Tell those power-drunk vampires who feast on cows at dawn

But prey on mortals by night

Tell those canker-worms that drink palm wine

With gourds made of human skulls

Tell those killers of dreams at night and those vultures

Ruling the sky from the puissant armpit of Iroko

That the cloud of vengeance has dimpled the sky

The harsh rain of Nemesis is about

Falling on their bald craniums

 Behold!

Pebbles of blazing phonemes

Embalmed at the

Foyer of cringe-less sepulcher

Are here to maim their sky

And set the iron-gated roofs of their sky-crapper
Ablaze!