Two eagles on iroko (2)
M. O. ENÉ
New Jersey, USA
Tuesday, June 6, 2006
Achebe, the acclaimed father of modern African literature, recounted how his English instructor at the University College, Ibadan, a British lady, reacted to his first-ever short story: “It is good, but it has no form”! He (Achebe) wanted to know what “form” was, but the lady had better things to do – a tennis tournament. Achebe insisted on knowing what “form” really meant in her books, but he did not get too far. Eventually, the woman admitted that the piece was good – and he never learnt what her “form” was all about! In essence, they faced the dilemma of how to define Africa’s expression of its art; he, literally, and Okeke, artistically.
Achebe revealed that he knew early on in the 50s that the English language must have a discussion with his Igbo language. Furthermore, Christianity must have a discussion with Odinani (Igbo religion). Unfortunately, as an ardent Christian, thanks to his father who didn’t seek his opinion on the matter, he needed to step away from Christian indoctrination for the “discussion” to hold. Achebe made it unequivocally clear that Christianity was not fair to the Igbo and African religion in general. This is in keeping with his famous statement: “Whatever you are is never enough. You must find a way to accept something, however small, from the other to make you whole and to save you from the mortal sin of righteousness and extremism.”
To drive home this "discussion," he read "A Wake for Okigbo," a poem he had dedicated to Christopher Okigbo (1932-1967), the death of whom he described as one of the terrible things from the Nigeria-Biafra War. He had written the poem Igbo, but gave it to someone (Ifeanyi Menkiti) to translate. He first read the poem in English, the first lines of which captures your attention and keeps it there until the end:
For whom are we searching?
For whom are we searching?
For Okigbo we are searching!
Nzomalizo!
Has he gone for firewood, let him return.
Has he gone to fetch water, let him return.
Has he gone to the marketplace, let him return.
For Okigbo we are searching.
Nzomalizo!
[See RandomHouse for full version]
As it continued, you could hear the air circulating. The audience appreciated the depth of the full poem and expressed its appreciation with a long applause. Then he read the original version. In Igbo. No doubt about it, it sounded so great in Igbo, even if you didn't understand the language. The thunderous applause spoke millions of words, and Achebe left it there; words were no longer necessary, none was needed.
Prof. Okeke spoke on the vein, making no apologies about the infusion of his modernist and nativist style: “Every artist sees things and uses them, puts their forms to a new purpose; that is just part of creativity. But merely copying them, without understanding them in the artist’s own way, is a barren thing.” He went on to revealed that he and Achebe, contrary to popular belief, did not work together. He narrated to a very appreciative audience in the now-packed hall how Achebe asked him to illustrate the second edition of “Things Fall Apart.” When he was done, Achebe simply commented: “That is how it should be.” In other words, the much-touted cooperation between him and Achebe was not exactly what it was cranked up to be: they worked separately and expressed their arts independent of each other. Prof Okeke followed up and blamed Christianity and Islam in part for bulldozing through the African culture as if the African just sat there there all these centuries waiting for the colonists “to discover them.” He narrated how, as the dean of Faculty of Arts at the University of Nigeria, Nsukka, Enugu State, he developed the archaeology and history departments to focus on local history, not European or Asian history.
Prof. Achebe went on to say: “Throughout history, our people had just been sitting around, for all any of our teacher knew.” He broke more ribs when he observed that the Nok and other ancient archeological finds proved to the world what Africans had always believed: “that we were humans!” Of course, science has since proven that Africa is the first human continent, that every person alive today started life in Africa. He posited that it was not enough to say that one is wonderful or great; “You have to prove it.” The remark acknowledged the foresight of Prof. Okeke in encouraging archeological studies of African history. Without irrefutable proof, it would have been difficult to convince the global community that Africans did not just sit back and wait to be “discovered.”
Prof. Achebe, now of Bard College in New York, delved in the importance of African rediscovering their history and recalled very touchingly how the great African-American author, James Baldwin, commented that he (Achebe) was a brother he was not supposed to meet.
The one-hour session was probably one of the most illuminating hours of my appreciation of African history. It ended with the two eagles on the iroko expressing everything I always believed. Prof. Achebe stated clearly that the artist should not shy away from the political happenings of his society. This obviously explains why he ventured into politics in 1983 as a vice presidential candidate in the second-leg of the ill-fated Third Republic. He narrated that the emperors of yore were more comfortable with artists painting beautiful pictures and writing great poems. With that unspoken understanding, the emperor (could be a dark dictator) is adjudged the repository of political wisdom. Achebe condemned the know-it-all mindset of “the emperor” and encouraged artists never to separate their work from the goings-on of the society. Acknowledging that many Americans in the audience might find the infusion of politics uncomfortable, the star eagle on the iroko urged artists to confront oppression wherever it raises its ugly head, be it against racial minorities (i.e. Blacks) or against gender (i.e. women).
Prof.
Okeke, who flew in directly from his village abode in Nimo, Anambra State,
Nigeria (where he still runs the Asele Institute – a cultural center), concurred
and expressed the need for artists to use their works in a drive for social
awareness and redemption. As if to drive home Okeke’s use of art for awareness,
the screen flashed his depiction of the 60s Biafran sufferings. Evidently with
his works of art, he was able to reach an audience in the western world about
the misery of Biafra.
A standing ovation greeted the end of session, attended by people from all walks of life and of all ages, Americans and Africans alike, young and old--the rain notwithstanding.
Once the curtain closed, we proceeded to the open hall for light refreshments. Fela's "Lady" greeted us as attendees sampled fresh finger foods, red wine, and cookies. Familiar faces formed: The people of Nimo were out in force to receive Prof. Okeke and his wife. They include: Carl Onyiuke – a nephew of the artist; Prince Okey Onyiuke and his wife Chinwe; Anayo Ikeme, Ignatius Ibida, Tony Ibida, etc. Other Anambraians include, Maazi Sam Okudah, Barrister Emeka Igboeli, Nzeamalu Oyibo Achebe, his wife Lizzy Achebe (Eleganza), and their teenage daughter, an intern at the Museum, Anthony Adubasim and family, etc.
Prominent New Jerseyeans, besides yours sincerely – if I must say so, include: Prof. Niki Chukunta of Essex College, Dr. Chike Onyenso, an NJ-based medico, Dr. Ugorji O. Ugorji, who had just flown in from Nigeria, Dr. Anthony C. Ihunna (PRO, World Igbo Congress), and others. Author and poet, Prof. Mike Mbabuike, from across the River Hudson, was also in the house.
Everyone expressed how impressed they were with the evening. Some wondered why thre African community did not organize such event more often, instead of fighting endless over banalities. Emeka Igboeli could not wait for me to secure the Igbo version of the poem, which reminded him of "You don't know me! -- a rambling thought I expressed early last year. Thinking about it, I felt good at that moment because Achebe brought it home: Think not about form; feel free to rope in politics!
Just when I thought the party was all over, I sighted Dr. Nwabu Mgbemene as he chatted at a table in the now thinning hall with some guests. I walked over to offer my respects, and I got another big lift of the evening. Guess who was convening with him? Don’t bother; I will tell you: Obi Nwakamma of Vanguard's "The Orbit"! It was a pleasant surprise. We dived straight into Odinani and soon agreed that the philosophy must be reactivated, revisited, reviewed, revised, reformed, refreshed, and or restored to its pride of place. We agreed that Ndiigbo cannot afford to throw away their religion’s basin with the birth water of Christianity. In mere fleeting moments, we were able to express our desire to do something about the insidious iconoclasts obliterating sacred shrines and ancestral reservations of natural treasures, which they label “evil forests.”
As we walked down the high halls of the Museum, foregoing a more private reception upstairs, a lovely lady compatriot walked up to us. Obi introduced her as "the daughter of Chris Okigbo."
“I have a name,” she reminded Obi lightheartedly.
I know. “Obiageli,” I informed her as if she was hearing it for the first time. “How’s is your Mum?”
“She is okay, thank you very much,” she intoned.
It soon became clear from our brief discussion that she flew in from Belgium to attend the session. My mind went whoosh! If this young lady could fly across the Pond and into Newark, NJ for “the conversation,” what stopped local Nigerians from overflowing the Museum? But there was so much more to talk about. I informed Obiageli that Dr. Nkem Nwankwo of the Danda fame had written some interesting stuff about her Dad (Chris Okigbo) in “Shadows of a Masquerade – a Chuks Iloegbunam production that I found perchance. She informed me that she knew about Dr. Nwankwo, that she had set out to see the man only to find out from the widow that the man had passed!
Leaving the almost hallowed halls of the Museum, I ran into distinguished Prof. Achebe leaving for his New York abode. It was still pouring and Meme Omogbai and Oyibo Achebe had umbrellas and assisting with the wheelchair. I stopped a wee bit to chat with the duo, against the advice of Carly Onyiuke who would be riding with me, and got drenched in the process. By the time we got into my truck, I was so soaked I had to turn on the heater.
I drove up Central Avenue to Orange. At Obi Igbo, the TGIF patrons were still at it: Nigerian politics, what else. No one knew what was at stake and no one had any clue what to do about the situation of things. I understand then the dilemma Achebe and Okeke faced in 1960. At least, as artist and author, they tried and aptly captured the beat of the time: Things were falling apart and the center was no longer holding, and they did something about it. Our era is come and almost gone, and we could not define it nor feel the pulse: not as artists, not as writers -- forget readers, and definitely not as politicians… nothing!