KWENU! Our culture, our future

Speaking of Nigerian natives

M. O. Ené 

egbedaa@aol.com 
NKWO, Wednesday, May 1, 2001

MEA CULPA 

First and foremost, I apologize abundantly for mislabeling our ace reporter Laolu Akande in an earlier version of my last piece: "The absolution of Abubakar." Thank God, we are not losing our professional penpushing brother to the tribe of professional politicians, not yet. The alluded-to aspiring politician is an entirely different person, NOT our man at the daily flagship, The Guardian. I candidly regret any inconveniences caused to both fine gentlemen, and I wish them enduring successes in their pursuits.

Mea maxima culpa! Everything else is embellishment.

WHAT'S IN A NAME? 

Never mind now how I got the names mixed up, but it got me thinking: If I were a Yoruba-speaking Nigerian, could I have quickly identified the error? Could certain intra-ethnic peculiarities point to a different direction? I don't have the answers, but I know that African names and titles tell stories far beyond mere nomenclature. I know that certain names are specific to certain parts of the same ethnic group. For example, I would know that Adeferasin, Adetiloye, Adetokumbo, Olufosoye, etc. would be located in Ekiti State or thereabouts. In Edo, you would expect Omoigui, Idahosa, Imasuen, Osaruyi, Igbinedion, etc. to be running in the gubernatorial race, not Okotie, Eluemuno, or Ibru. In Igboland, you would know that Agu, Attah, Chime, Ene, or Nnamani are of Enugu State, not Abia State -- where you would see the Kalu Kalu and Okereke and Woko. Of course, you would not expect an Njoku or an Njemanze to be sponsored by Sir Emeka Offor in his bid to unseat Anambra Governor Chinwoke Mbadinuju.

While we are on names, we must note that different names mean different things to different people. The Ené of Enugu is quite different from Enê of the Efik or the Idoma lass called Enè; Kalabari and Imo have their own variants. While the Edo word for God ("Osà") represents the same divine concept as in western Igbo communities -- as in Osadebe, you may not call someone "osá" (squirrel). Hence, not many notice that the senator from Delta North (Osakwe) and the minister of aviation (Chikwe) have the same Igbo last names. Who would forget the popular teasing of the prevalence of "ola" in Yoruba names: Olajide, Olaito, Olaoke, Oladimeji, Jideola, Adeola, Oluola, etc. I bet someone could find some fun in the prevalence of "ka" in Igbo names: Amaka, Chika, Chuka, Emeka, Mmaduka, Mmuoka, Nduka, Ngozika, Udoka, Kachie, Kanife, Kaosisochi (As it pleases God), etc. Hey, always feel free to jab "njakiri" in their generalized and benign formats; they are mostly politically incorrect tall tales, which are, at most, funny figments of facts coached in cheap conundrums.

THOUGH TRIBE & TONGUE 

Beyond names, African languages present nuances that are very deep. A slight tonal variation could send you speaking evil when you actually mean to say something good. The word "ebube" means "glory" in Igbo; but, in Edo, it could mean flakes of ash ("ibube" in Igbo); hence "ibubeoyi" means "snow." There are so many examples, but that's not the issue here. I recall the day I was shouted at for mispronouncing "obì" (Yoruba for "kolanut"). It was at one of the kolanut communions that mark the beginning of Igbo Heritage Month (May 1 - 31). The correction came in unison from Yoruba and Yorigbo citizens in attendance. I took the correction with grace.

At a recent wedding, a Nigerian of obvious Oodua extraction took on full-length Igbo. Boy oh boy, you needed to hear him… forget understanding for now. People looked at each other to reassure themselves that they were still at the right venue. A friend actually said, "Why do you allow this butchering of Igbo?" Well, it is his language too. I smiled. I smiled because I could follow the reading from an earlier publication of the piece. Then came his "obì" moment with the mispronunciation of a popular county in Anambra State: A large section of the audience let go of pent-up antagonism by shouting back the correct pronunciation in unison. It was like they got back at him for suggesting in his opening remarks that an Igbo friend had told him the language was incomplete. Don't you want to smack such friends! Which language is complete? If Yoruba were complete, we wouldn't be calling shoes "bata"; if Hausa were complete, we wouldn't have "maigadi." The fact remains that 'incompleteness' of a language or first-language accent does not excuse poor pronunciation. Anyway, I chuckled. It sure felt good being in the audience. We let the man masticate the reading to the end until he got to the final "Ya gazie." And "Isée" (Amen) came from relieved listeners.

Last Saturday, I was on the "right" side again. At the fundraising party of Onicha Ugbo Development & Cultural Foundation (ODCF), Delta State indigenes and their brethren east of the Niger decked out and stormed Newark International Airport Marriott Hotel. We were there to support Alibo Onicha Ugbo and an African community pillar in the area, Ken Iwelumo. It was past nine, when dinner was supposed to be served. Plates of greens graced the tables. The Obi Onicha Ugbo, Agbogidi Chukwumaleze I and his Queen, Anasi Franka Onichamaka Chukwumaleze, were on the way down from their royal suite with a retinue of 'special' guests. Someone took the mike to introduce the MCs. A mere mention of "Onicha Ugbo" hinted that the fellow was going to get a bad rap with his 'foreign' dialect. It didn't take long before he got his "obì" treatment. Mr. Steve Umoru was easy. He got right the first name of very popular co-MC, Mrs. Vickey Ezebuiroh. The last name was so mangled the audience corrected him in unison with a serious scolding shout-out! Now, this event was a $100:00-to-$500:00-a-plate event. A grand conferred "special' status, and corporate concerns came for as high as $5000:00. Now, that tells you it was neither an all-comers show nor a Taiwanese parliament.

When we were younger, we teased people who mispronounced simple words. In Igbo and Yoruba, for example, some words mean so many things with only a slight variation in tonality. The Yoruba have many of them. In Igbo, the lexical item "akwa" so fascinated that someone coined a very popular tongue twister around it. If you can reproduce the piece, you speak Igbo. God help a non-Igbo priest trying to glorify "iké Chukwu" (God's power). Why? "Ikè" means "bottom"! Thanks to Professor Laz Ekwueme in Teasers: Poems, Proverbs, and Pun, we are able to pass on some of the original funny stories.

ROOTS AND SPLIT HAIRS 

The roots of words tell a thousand tales. One word can harbor a full-length story. Take "nyamiri," which the Hausa used as a derogatory name for Ndiigbo. Well, there is nothing derogatory about "(Biko) Nye m mmiri" [(Please) Give me water)]. Every healthy Igbo would unabashedly request water from a total stranger, never food; to beg for food would be an exhibition of cheapness and bad upbringing. The pride of a man is hurt when he begs for food, not water. The term showed its sharpest sting during the Pogrom -- a sad chapter in our constructive coexistence that remains an open sore, but it has come to mean something else in today's northern Nigeria.

According to Obiwu in "The Igbo of Northern Nigeria," a smart pupil could be classed "nyamiri," as would a beautiful girl; and both can be Hausa, Fulani, Birom, Kataf, Nupe, Gwari, or any of the numerous nationalities north of the Benue-Niger stretch! On the flip side, a 419ner from Bida, Bukuru, or Bornu could also be called "nyamiri." Above all those mundane nuances, it harbors a history of modern mass migration of the Igbo in the late 1800s. Interestingly, water played an important role in the formal establishment of traditional Hausa states. Of course, we all know about the legend of the snake in the community well that prevented local folk from fetching water. Some warrior came, killed it, and became a hero.

We all know about "Okoro." Of all the names in the world, the Yoruba chose to tag Ndiigbo with a word that means "fine young chap"! In Edo-Urhobo axis, "Okoro" means a "prince." Of course, someone named "Okoro" is most likely from the banks of Imo River than from the banks of Anambra River, where "Okolo" is more common. What that tells me is that people from the Imo river basin were the arrowhead of Igbo modern mass migration to Lagos. We know from history that Ndiigbo reached Eko and went on to beyond Ashanti long before Vasco da Gama set sail for India and that such magnates as Sir Louis Odumegwu Ojukwu were in a class of their own.

If you think the Igbo alone have great words or phrases turned into less than desirable terms, think again. In Professor Michael J. C. Echeruo's Igbo-English Dictionary (Yale University Press, 1998), we read that "Onuko" is actually an Igala word for "friend or relation." How that word turned into "fool" in Igbo is a history book of its own. It's really simple: Non-Igbo people still do not grasp the concept of marketplace capitalism. There are no friends or relations in business - unless you know what they know. Ah ha, then you could deal as equals; otherwise, you are a sucker walking. Of course, many River Niger communities, especially in Ogbaru area, have strong Igala ancestry. But that's another story.

CONCLUSION 

We were discussing in a forum the other day how offensive an Igbo male would take "Nne gi" ["Your Momma"].I pointed out that girls didn't take it to heart as boys did, and that girls rarely used the offensive term. Then it occurred to me that girls actually circumvented the rule by doing the "waka." Guess where that came from? It is Hausa for the same offensive expression: "Uwa ka"! Note that "Uwa ki" (where "ki" denotes a feminine gender) is not popular. Mostly recently, I noticed that the "waka" gesture is being recycled here in America as "Talk to the hand"! It is indeed an understudied world.

A time will come when Nigerian groups will redefine themselves and take greater pride in their languages. It is interesting to note that many Nigerian ethnic groups did not actually pick the name they bear. So I am now more inclined to use Aladimma for Igboland, Arewa for "core" Hausaland, and Oodua for Yorubaland. The others must come up with culturally defined nomenclatures, not the current geopolitical fallacy of "North Central" and "South South." It is also interesting to note that the true history of many Nigerian nations is linked with names of their peoples and places. Therefore, it is so sad that the prevalence of Euro-Christian and Arab-Muslim names has soaked in and destroyed a large body of history in the name of paranormal preoccupation (religion) and Western civilization (neocolonialism).

MY POINT 

There is something about names and languages that fascinates. No writer can communicate effectively without a working knowledge of Nigerian natives and their languages. I am convinced that this contributed to the above-mentioned mistake because I have a scanty knowledge of Yoruba linguistics and name giving. Without the youths service at Jaji, I would have known next to zilch about Hausa. I think we should dig deeper into our rich languages and names to bring out the best they have to offer. Even when we poke fun with certain terms and names adjudged derogatory in many cases, it is still better than letting these lexical items lurk in the dark recesses of the mind or, worse, die. It is also good to know how they evolved and became something else because these words hold rich histories that Western-watered literatures could never reveal to us. Thus, a better appreciation of peoples, titles, names, and words would reduce the sort of mistakes made in many currently editor-free cyberpublications, even though we get the chance to correct such simple snafus that could cause some discomfort.

Now you can imagine how happy I am to read that Nigeria's National Information Technology Development Agency (NITDA) will launch Hausa, Igbo, and Yoruba keyboards. [The Guardian, Tuesday, April 30, 2002] I have busted my chops asking for deliverance from our inability to tone our languages properly at a time when obscure Asian orthographies majestically grace the Cyberspace. From Canada to Germany, I have been in touch with Nigerians who have recorded little successes. Of late, I have been shopping for a program that will count the four-day Igbo native week, just as the seven-day Euro week runs on its own steam. I know that such seemingly little things will do us good as a people. It was therefore a delight to read the NITDA director general Professor Gabriel Ajayi: "Our intention is to change the concept of citizenship, the perception of governance and the responsibilities expected of every individual in achieving good governance." That is another way of stating the basic tenets of Cyberology, at which I have been gnawing in the past few years.

The plans of NITDA are great. Someone has to move the Internet revolution or it would continue to crawl at a snail speed in Nigeria. It is a shame that in 2002, major government and media sites are all dot-org or dot-com domains registered in America. Whatever happened to dot-ng? But we should not detract from NITDA's moves to cyber-revolutionize Nigeria. I just hope this is not just another ploy to squeeze out of money from the dying days of President Obasanjo's first messianic mission. I worry when government thinks it can do better where individuals have shown excellence. The only establishments holding back the clock of our industrial revolution are NITEL (telecommunication) and NEPA (power) and police (security) and politicians (basic amenities). No matter the amount of money government throws at NITDA, there is not much it can do in the present corrupt environment and prep-for-2003 frenzy to advance the frontiers of Cyberspace that the private sector cannot do better. Prof. Ajayi said further: "The success of this [establishment of cybercafe/CISCO academies across the federation] is dependent on the approved budget for the agency in the year 2002 budget." I rest my case.

Have a wonderful Igbo Heritage Month.

MOE, 2002

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