Specials DIVERSITY EMPLOYERS MAGAZINE Spring 2011 - Anniversary Commemorative Issue

Locating New Nigerian Writing

A Review of Weaverbird, a short-story collection coming out of Nigeria

By Obi. O. Akwani
Editor, Minorities Global Village

The advantage of the short-story collection is that it at once gives the reader insight into a variety of subject matter. Unlike most short-story books that consist of stories from one author, the Weaverbird is an eclectic collection of 14 short-stories by 14 different writers of Nigerian descent. Published in 2008 by Lagos-based Farafina Books, the collection is edited by four Nigerians: Akin Adesokan, Ike Anya, Sarah Ladipo Manyika, and Ike Oguine. As may be expected, the stories in this collection are uneven both in terms of skill and style. The skills - observant experience and insight - brought into play by each contributor vary. Such unevenness could have been reduced through more careful selection by the editors; but then again that would depend on the number size of the contributions they receive.

It is, in any case, encouraging to see this book published as a "vehicle for new Nigerian writing." The need for active encouragement for such new writing coming out of Nigeria is urgent. So much is happening in the world around us and our ability to contend with everything really depends on how well we are able to distillate the events in order to master or come to grips with our circumstance.

The stories are attempts by the authors to come to grips with the gamut of experiences Nigerians (and everyone else for that matter) are going through at home and in the various places they reside all over the globe. Many of the issues in contemporary Nigeria - political corruption, the Niger Delta crisis and such social issues as the struggle of poor students to put themselves through school - are tackled. The outer world experiences of discrimination and racism are also dealt with.

For me, the issue is what should be the focus of the Nigerian novel for this epoch. Only one story in the Weaverbird Collection comes close in a direct confrontation with that issue. The Mermaid by Ike Oguine (also one of the four editors) is the best of the lot of 14 stories in this collection. It tackles many different subject matter that are fundamental in the debate about the evolution of the Nigerian novel. Political issues such as the relationship between the different ethnic groups in the country are hinted at; literary concerns like the state of the Nigerian novel is also tackled. Oguine does this in a subtle manner that can go undetected by the cursory reader.

Ike Oguine's The Mermaid revolves around three protagonists, Chisom, Toye and Soala, old schoolmates from high school. The story unfolds via reminiscences between the visiting Chisom and the comfortably settled Toye in the latter's inherited home. There is a refreshing positiveness about things Nigerian, stated without the naiveté common in the more usual negative comparisons of the Nigerian condition vis a vie the West. For example, as Chisom sips a cold Nigerian beer, offered by his host, he comments: "There is no beer like this anywhere in the world." Where Toye lives in the tony Anthony Village area of Lagos is very clean and safe, made so through community self-help efforts. Toye is the secretary of the Residents' Association.

The relationship between Toye and Chisom is suggestive of the political relationship between the Yoruba and Igbo in Nigeria. Chisom is pained by what he sees as Toye's betrayal of their friendship by Toye taking up with Soala as her lover after Chisom leaves her to join an elitist social club in university. The 'betrayal' comes through Toye becoming Soala's lover after Chisom left her. Chisom tells his friend later, "I trusted you more than I trusted my own brothers."

The gradual maturity of these three friends harbors some fundamental philosophical issues for the evolving culture of Nigeria. As we follow them from high school through university and later career choices, we see them grapple with critical life issues. In the end, Chisom and Toye emerge as perfect metaphors for the dependent mentality of the average modern Nigerian. Neither is well anchored even in learning. They seem always outward-looking in the search for meaning and their place in life. Chisom's fixation with the material and social class lead him to abandon Soala's love for the assurances of an elitist social club in university. He carries this snobish worldview through life, wearing it like that white rag which most Nigerian lawyers wear on thier heads so proudly, until his high-flying career in banking comes crashing down catastrophically. It is only then that he turns to admire the turn of Toye's life.

Toye's own borrowed white wig came in the form of a British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC) approval of his writing. This, and Soala's praise, become the source of his touted idealism for which he abandons near complete medical studies to become a writer and move to London where conditions, he believed, would be more suited to his writing career. He develops an admirable conception of what contemporary Nigerian writing should be, but is unable to deliver. He is unprepared to for the London he encounters and for the special challenges that a pioneering spirit must overcome. As his frustrations mount, he turns on the only person, Soala, who had been his anchor throughout. A visit by the high-flying Chisom to the couple's bedsit in a poor London neighborhood, where Chisom mocks Toye's joblessness, becomes the proverbial straw that breaks the camel's back. After having a serious row with Soala, Toye packs his bags, abandons his manuscripts and the dream of becoming a writer and returns to Nigeria where he joins his father's firm and studies to become an accountant, everything about writing now forgotten. And until her death, Toye continued to harbor strong resentment against Soala for leading him to believe he could be a writer.

Soala is the only steadfast character among the trio. She had decided, after university, to seek her fortunes outside Nigeria and does not shrink from the disappointing realities of life outside the country. She engages life and embraces it fully. Even as she lay dying of cancer, Soala did not lose her positive outlook on life or try to blame others for her troubles. And when she dies, she is surrounded by the people she loved and who loved her and those she helped along the way.

The Mermaid is a powerful short story. Some may actually fault it for packing so much into 40 pages.