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KWENU: Our Culture, Our Future |
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Men, women... my book!
M. O. Ené New Jersey, USA
Monday, April 25, 2005
I am forced by recent events to revisit an issue I had addressed last year. It’s about African men and women meeting regularly in formal cultural associations. Nothing has happened to change my position; on the contrary, a lot has happened to make me hold on to the theory that the African man and woman were not schooled to, and should not regularly, meet in formal associations.
The younger ones may have better luck, but not those of us who came over here as adults. I was at a meeting the other day. Men and women were gathered. The president presided; the secretary scribed away. Others watched.
A man of substance got up to speak. From nowhere, a woman wailed: “You shut up and sit down!” Whoa! It was not a joke. Everyone was taken aback.
The man did not fire back. He stood there waiting for the cloud of no-she-didn’t-say-that(!) to clear. Meanwhile, you could see the other women murmuring and looking in the direction of the man’s wife.
As you would expect, she went in defense of her husband. And the tongue-lashing woman stood her ground. Exchanges ensued, but no one got hurt. It was jaw-jaw galore.
The meeting continued. Another man stood up and addressed the president. The president’s wife rose and threatened Armageddon if anyone—in her estimation—should insult her husband—the president!
Many associations in my community have reached a point where it now requires the presence of law-enforcement officers for some of us to attend meetings—just to avoid being beaten up! If this could be contemplated here in USA, imagine what these people would do to opponents in an African country.
What is really happening? This is the problem to address honestly and unemotionally.
Of course, as in many human affairs, folks find it easier to point fingers, to search for phantom hidden agenda, to blame the messenger, to score cheap and empty points, to insult, and to denigrate. We do anything and everything but address the message —the issue at stake, that is.
The issue at stake is simple: many big and small associations are facing problems of leadership, and many newer members are asking questions that require answers, which no one is providing. Yet, these questions refuse to go away.
What REALLY has these big associations achieved since the last century? Absolutely nothing!
If it is all about when one dies, who cares what happens after he or she is gone! So instead of taking on the issues and deconstructing them dispassionately, those in position of leadership waste time and effort dwelling on nonnegotiable constitutional issues that have no middle ground. Where that fails, they change the language and force-inject amendments.
A teenager was teary-eyed at a recent meeting as she observed the degeneration of what was already a sad situation. I bet she could have done a better managing a meeting of her peers.
There is a certain need in our community to pass on the baton to a younger generation of Africans, since the older folks can no longer interpret simple rules—even with the founding members still present.
Anyway, that’s really it for me and the endless social problems. I think people should use their energy to do good, rather than dodge fistfights or wait to be assaulted by a foulmouthed Flossie.
But someday very soon, the African in America will learn that he no longer lives in a cocooned African community but in a community that is governed by the laws of these United States.
In other words, it is useless using law-enforcement officers to police peace at community meetings. It would take only one major example to teach us a lesson in the respect for the rights of others. So it wouldn’t be a bad thing to see how one incident would play itself out. I expect one soon. Stay tuned.
I was against policing events. I am still against it. I don’t see the need for extra security in America. When General Buhari came to World Igbo Congress, I didn’t see why he needed security to speak to the Igbo, nor to keep Chris Uba off the back of Governor Chris Ngige.
In Buhari’s case, nothing was going to happen. And nothing happened. In Uba’s case, something was going to happen but, after I made the consequences known to him (Uba), he chilled his cohorts.
Here is the plot: The next time anyone comes flashing fists and lets one land on you, don’t fight back; simply slump to the floor and don’t get up even when 911 gets there. Go into sleep apnea if you must.
By the time you wake up, the attacker would be downtown chilling. When you press charges, ask for heavens on earth and let no one talk you into settling for a dime less: go all the way; get everything you can; it’s one life to live!
Someone said the other day that I write a lot. I don’t know what that was supposed to mean, but I admitted that I write. Oh yes, I write. If I didn’t write, I don’t know what else I would be doing to relax.
I write. I have written so much I no longer recognize some works even when others use them and accord me the appropriate recognition. Some lift my work wholesale and bother not with the respects. It’s all good; if they consider my work lift-able, it must be good.
And so it was that I brushed up a piece of literature I penned over ten years ago, while waiting for my viva in England. A publishing company in England found it interesting. The book, surprise surprise, is being published.
Because you have been a regular reader, I want you to read it first here. The book will reach USA in late April or early May, and it is titled “BLIGHTED BLUES.”
The book, a novel, is mainly about dude named Chrys Chimé and his chick Amanda Arinze… and other folks in their lives.
You have to get a copy of the book to enjoy it. There is so much in it for everyone, from love to travels to current affairs to history. Every page is packed with uncommon knowledge, albeit a novel.
I could tell you the story, then again I have already told it. I don’t think I should repeat it here. It is left for you to grab a copy online at adonis-abbey.com (the publishers) or order at a major bookstore near you. You can also place an order by emailing me: egbedaa@aol.com
Anyway, because I hold your dedicated readership dear, I will share the tentative blurb here.
As you know, it is really hard to write and sell books. You really must have something to say and a huge scandal to back it up. In fact, you don’t even start writing without having acquired a certain level of notoriety or excellence in somethin’.
In Blighted Blues, Chrys Chimé has no scandal to promote him, but he wrote a book he wanted published. No one would publish it. He shelves it. Then his girlfriend dumps him, and he revives the book. He meets another chick, and he kills the idea again. But the book refuses to die. And here the story begins. Blighted Blues M. O. Ené
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Okay, there you have it. As the cold winds of winter ebb and the sweetness of spring returns, party days shall again begin. If time permits, there will be a book launch somewhere... somehow. I will keep you posted, but plan of getting… and reading... a copy :)
#### culled from African Market News, March 2005 edition ####
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