if in fact it is all we shall know
as indeed may be most probable
and if, as is reasonably certain
we shall have no more on earth
then it is wrong to lament –
wrong to wish for the end of life
wrong to feel one must drag somehow through
and surely one must do whatever one can
fill each day with as much as can be done
while we live, we must fill each day with living
and do each day as much as we can
of what seems to us worthwhile;
all that is good, as we understand it
all that stirs us with a sense of joy
and this we must do each day as much as we can
while we are living
since this may be the only life
and certainly the only one we shall know here
it is sensible to make it full and alive
and rich and satisfying
and filled with all that seems good to us good,
and that seems enduring and brings joy
all that seems virtuous
all that seems alive
• Controversies still trail legendary Yoruba author, 50 years after death
From Bamigbola Gbolagunte, Akure
The late Daniel Olorunfunmi Fagunwa widely known as D. O. Fagunwa was a great writer, author and researcher. He became popular through his great literary works in Yoruba Language. His name still rings bell not only in his Oke-Igbo hometown in Ile-Oluji/Oke-Igbo Local Government Area of Ondo State, but across the length and breadth of the country as many still make reference to his works.
He was one of the first indigenous authors to pioneer writing of Yoruba novels. His major work is Ogboju Ode Ninu Igbo Irunmale. It shot him into instant limelight and placed the agrarian community of Oke-Igbo on the world map. Other books by the legend included Igbo Olodumare, Aditu Olodumare and Ireke Onibudo, all of which remained enduring legacies even after his death 54 years ago.
As a result of his creative writings bordering on unseen forces and mysteries of life, there were lots of controversies surrounding the death of the foremost writer. These have refused to be laid to rest despite the family’s efforts to dispel the stories. The stories, the rumours are in various shapes and dimensions.
Some believed Fagunwa disappeared shortly after he kicked the bucket. Some others said he was drown in river and his corpse was not found, just as there was also the rumour that he was taken away in a whirlwind as a result of the metaphysical powers he was said to possess.
But the widow, Mrs. Elizabeth Adebanke Fagunwa, insisted that her was buried like every other human being: “His death was like that of a great man, as he died when we expected it less.”
She described her husband as a good Christian who lived like every other human being and had no inkling that death was at hand when he gave up the ghost:
“My husband was buried in this town, his corpse was brought to his family house in Oke-Igbo. He was buried in the church, St. Luke’s Anglican Church cemetery on December 10, 1963. The records are there in the church. His resting place is still there, so the myth about his body disappearing was only an imagination of some people. My husband was a good Christian.”
She explained that her husband had no premonition of his death. She confirmed that he was drowned in Wuya River in Niger State, while returning to Ibadan, Oyo State, from a book tour of Northern Nigeria, adding that his body was found at the bank of the river three days later.
Fagunwa was a representative of Heinemann Publishers in Nigeria. He was so appointed after writing four books published by the publishing company. His mission to the North was to scout for writers for the company before he met his death:
“He initiated the establishment of Heinemann Publishing Company in Nigeria and Heinemann published his last official book. I call it official because he was writing one, which he couldn’t complete. I regarded Aditu Olodumare as his last official work, it was published by Heinemann.
“Through him, the company decided to come to Nigeria so that they could have many writers and authors from Nigeria and publish their works. My husband was appointed as the manager of the company in Nigeria. He travelled around the country marketing Heinemann books to schools and in search of great writers like him.
“He left for the northern part of the country on such assignment on November 16, 1963. He was away till that fateful day, December 7, 1963, when he planned to come back to our home in Ajanla Street, Oke-Ado, Ibadan. We had planned for his arrival but on his way back, he stayed the last night on earth at Bida, Niger State, in an hotel.”
She explained that Fagunwa and his driver were waiting at the riverbank to be ferried across the river in the early hours of that day when the late author decided to take a walk and unfortunately got drowned in the process. She added that the driver, James, who was a native of Ibadan, said they were the first to get to the riverbank that day:
“He (the driver) said they left their hotel around 5:00am and the people to ferry them didn’t come until around 6.00am. When they got to the riverbank, Fagunwa decided to take a walk around before the people would be ready. While he was strolling, it was not yet daybreak he said he just heard a sound in the water.
“He looked at the direction and his master was nowhere to be found. He ran there and before he got there, he found a canoe, which had turned upside down. He guessed that it was not unlikely that Fagunwa had a slip as he walked too close to the bank of the river.
“He said the canoe turned upside down and covered him. He shouted for help and people came to rescue him but Fagunwa was nowhere to be found until the third day. While the people were still searching for Fagunwa in the river, a message was sent to Ibadan about the incident. I still had the belief that he would be brought home alive because he was a great swimmer but to my surprise, he never came home alive.”
Mrs. Fagunwa said this made her to subscribe to a Yoruba adage that says “Iku ogun ni npa akinkanju, Iku Odo ni pa Omuwe,” which literally means that the brave dies in the battlefield while a greater swimmer is killed by drowning:
“Indeed, Fagunwa’s corpse was found floating on the third day in what continues to baffle people and add to the myth surrounding his death. He was found at the exact spot where he got drowned some 72 hours earlier with his cloth and cap intact and his pair of glasses in his hand.
“What surprised us was that he had his shoes on, with his cloth intact as well as his cap and had his pair of glasses firmly in his hand. This was told by people who saw him at the river and people who saw his corpse when he was brought home.
“The whole thing was natural. But if it were now, we might suspect that maybe somebody pushed him but in those days, there was safety. No kidnapping, murder wasn’t as bad as this, and the country wasn’t bad as this in terms of security. So it was natural.”
Fagunwa’s widow said her late husband had no mystical powers. He also had nothing to do with any occult group as he was a Christian though most of his writings laid much emphasis on demons and fairies. She said all the characters in Fagunwa’s books were his imagination:
“My husband did not believe in native medicine, he was a Christian and from a Christian home. His father was the Baba Ijo of St. Luke’s Church, Oke-Igbo, the mother also became the Iya Ijo of the church.
“He didn’t believe in belonging to any cult. He believed in his God but his books as you said are based on mysteries and demons. I am happy you are in Oke-Igbo now. Oke-Igbo is surrounded by hills and forest. The town has extensive land, though there were not as many villages as we have now. In those days, they had villages and at weekend school children would go to their parents in the farms after school lapsed on Friday.
“Some of them would go to farms, about six to twelve miles away from the town. They normally visited the farms during weekends to help their parents in the farm. At night, they would hear sound of animals, birds and so many others. From those things that he saw, he had his inspiration and he started writing.”
The 85-year-old widow was barely 31 when she lost her husband and did not remarry: “There could never be any man like D. O. Fagunwa again in my life. What else can I get from any other man? He was always there to shower me with love and affection.
“He made me laugh because he was humorous. He pampered me with love. He was always there even when I did not need him, always providing a shoulder for me, encouraging me. Fagunwa meant love to me. The only honour I think I can give him is to forget another marriage. To God be the glory, I have been able to do that for over 50 years.”
A niece to the late Fagunwa, Isaac, described him (Fagunwa) as a man of the people and a man after the welfare of his people: “Oke-Igbo would have developed more than this if he were to be alive because he valued education more than anything.
I appreciate the late Fagunwa’s wife for being the link for all family members.”
He said the burial place of Fagunwa is at the cemetery of St Luke’s Anglican Church “for anyone in doubt to see. Though we didn’t know when he died, but we know where he was buried and I have been there several times.”
Oke-Igbo has a road and a primary school named after him. Fagunwa who was the Bogunro of Oke-Igbo remains a household name in the town. At the final resting place of Fagunwa in the church premises, a guard was seen. He refused to speak with the reporter, even as efforts to see the priest in search of the church did not yield result.
• Controversies still trail legendary Yoruba author, 50 years after death
From Bamigbola Gbolagunte, Akure
The late Daniel Olorunfunmi Fagunwa widely known as D. O. Fagunwa was a great writer, author and researcher. He became popular through his great literary works in Yoruba Language. His name still rings bell not only in his Oke-Igbo hometown in Ile-Oluji/Oke-Igbo Local Government Area of Ondo State, but across the length and breadth of the country as many still make reference to his works.
He was one of the first indigenous authors to pioneer writing of Yoruba novels. His major work is Ogboju Ode Ninu Igbo Irunmale. It shot him into instant limelight and placed the agrarian community of Oke-Igbo on the world map. Other books by the legend included Igbo Olodumare, Aditu Olodumare and Ireke Onibudo, all of which remained enduring legacies even after his death 54 years ago.
As a result of his creative writings bordering on unseen forces and mysteries of life, there were lots of controversies surrounding the death of the foremost writer. These have refused to be laid to rest despite the family’s efforts to dispel the stories. The stories, the rumours are in various shapes and dimensions.
Some believed Fagunwa disappeared shortly after he kicked the bucket. Some others said he was drown in river and his corpse was not found, just as there was also the rumour that he was taken away in a whirlwind as a result of the metaphysical powers he was said to possess.
But the widow, Mrs. Elizabeth Adebanke Fagunwa, insisted that her was buried like every other human being: “His death was like that of a great man, as he died when we expected it less.”
She described her husband as a good Christian who lived like every other human being and had no inkling that death was at hand when he gave up the ghost:
“My husband was buried in this town, his corpse was brought to his family house in Oke-Igbo. He was buried in the church, St. Luke’s Anglican Church cemetery on December 10, 1963. The records are there in the church. His resting place is still there, so the myth about his body disappearing was only an imagination of some people. My husband was a good Christian.”
She explained that her husband had no premonition of his death. She confirmed that he was drowned in Wuya River in Niger State, while returning to Ibadan, Oyo State, from a book tour of Northern Nigeria, adding that his body was found at the bank of the river three days later.
Fagunwa was a representative of Heinemann Publishers in Nigeria. He was so appointed after writing four books published by the publishing company. His mission to the North was to scout for writers for the company before he met his death:
“He initiated the establishment of Heinemann Publishing Company in Nigeria and Heinemann published his last official book. I call it official because he was writing one, which he couldn’t complete. I regarded Aditu Olodumare as his last official work, it was published by Heinemann.
“Through him, the company decided to come to Nigeria so that they could have many writers and authors from Nigeria and publish their works. My husband was appointed as the manager of the company in Nigeria. He travelled around the country marketing Heinemann books to schools and in search of great writers like him.
“He left for the northern part of the country on such assignment on November 16, 1963. He was away till that fateful day, December 7, 1963, when he planned to come back to our home in Ajanla Street, Oke-Ado, Ibadan. We had planned for his arrival but on his way back, he stayed the last night on earth at Bida, Niger State, in an hotel.”
She explained that Fagunwa and his driver were waiting at the riverbank to be ferried across the river in the early hours of that day when the late author decided to take a walk and unfortunately got drowned in the process. She added that the driver, James, who was a native of Ibadan, said they were the first to get to the riverbank that day:
“He (the driver) said they left their hotel around 5:00am and the people to ferry them didn’t come until around 6.00am. When they got to the riverbank, Fagunwa decided to take a walk around before the people would be ready. While he was strolling, it was not yet daybreak he said he just heard a sound in the water.
“He looked at the direction and his master was nowhere to be found. He ran there and before he got there, he found a canoe, which had turned upside down. He guessed that it was not unlikely that Fagunwa had a slip as he walked too close to the bank of the river.
“He said the canoe turned upside down and covered him. He shouted for help and people came to rescue him but Fagunwa was nowhere to be found until the third day. While the people were still searching for Fagunwa in the river, a message was sent to Ibadan about the incident. I still had the belief that he would be brought home alive because he was a great swimmer but to my surprise, he never came home alive.”
Mrs. Fagunwa said this made her to subscribe to a Yoruba adage that says “Iku ogun ni npa akinkanju, Iku Odo ni pa Omuwe,” which literally means that the brave dies in the battlefield while a greater swimmer is killed by drowning:
“Indeed, Fagunwa’s corpse was found floating on the third day in what continues to baffle people and add to the myth surrounding his death. He was found at the exact spot where he got drowned some 72 hours earlier with his cloth and cap intact and his pair of glasses in his hand.
“What surprised us was that he had his shoes on, with his cloth intact as well as his cap and had his pair of glasses firmly in his hand. This was told by people who saw him at the river and people who saw his corpse when he was brought home.
“The whole thing was natural. But if it were now, we might suspect that maybe somebody pushed him but in those days, there was safety. No kidnapping, murder wasn’t as bad as this, and the country wasn’t bad as this in terms of security. So it was natural.”
Fagunwa’s widow said her late husband had no mystical powers. He also had nothing to do with any occult group as he was a Christian though most of his writings laid much emphasis on demons and fairies. She said all the characters in Fagunwa’s books were his imagination:
“My husband did not believe in native medicine, he was a Christian and from a Christian home. His father was the Baba Ijo of St. Luke’s Church, Oke-Igbo, the mother also became the Iya Ijo of the church.
“He didn’t believe in belonging to any cult. He believed in his God but his books as you said are based on mysteries and demons. I am happy you are in Oke-Igbo now. Oke-Igbo is surrounded by hills and forest. The town has extensive land, though there were not as many villages as we have now. In those days, they had villages and at weekend school children would go to their parents in the farms after school lapsed on Friday.
“Some of them would go to farms, about six to twelve miles away from the town. They normally visited the farms during weekends to help their parents in the farm. At night, they would hear sound of animals, birds and so many others. From those things that he saw, he had his inspiration and he started writing.”
The 85-year-old widow was barely 31 when she lost her husband and did not remarry: “There could never be any man like D. O. Fagunwa again in my life. What else can I get from any other man? He was always there to shower me with love and affection.
“He made me laugh because he was humorous. He pampered me with love. He was always there even when I did not need him, always providing a shoulder for me, encouraging me. Fagunwa meant love to me. The only honour I think I can give him is to forget another marriage. To God be the glory, I have been able to do that for over 50 years.”
A niece to the late Fagunwa, Isaac, described him (Fagunwa) as a man of the people and a man after the welfare of his people: “Oke-Igbo would have developed more than this if he were to be alive because he valued education more than anything.
I appreciate the late Fagunwa’s wife for being the link for all family members.”
He said the burial place of Fagunwa is at the cemetery of St Luke’s Anglican Church “for anyone in doubt to see. Though we didn’t know when he died, but we know where he was buried and I have been there several times.”
Oke-Igbo has a road and a primary school named after him. Fagunwa who was the Bogunro of Oke-Igbo remains a household name in the town. At the final resting place of Fagunwa in the church premises, a guard was seen. He refused to speak with the reporter, even as efforts to see the priest in search of the church did not yield result.
I stay very long in the river And I become a fish With a head made of coral And fins which tame the distance Of billowing depths
I stay very long in the fish And I become a mountain With a mist-cradled crest And feet carpeted by grass which Sweetens the dawn with its glorious green
I stay very long on the mountain And I become a bird With a nest of polyglot straw And songs which stir the ears Of slumbering forests
I stay very long with the bird And I become a road With long dusty eyes And limbs twining through the bramble Like precocious pythons
I stay very long on the road And I become a cigarette Lighted both ends by powerful geysers, Ash-winged firefly on nights Of muffled darkness
I stay very long with the cigarette And I become a clown With a wide, painted face And a belly stuffed to the brim With rippling laughters
I stay very long with the clown And I become a sage With a twinkling beard And fables which ply the yarn Of grizzled memories
I stay very long with s-i-l-e-n-c-e I become a Word
Whilst our children Become smaller than guns, Elders become big Circus Lions Away from home.
Whilst the manes age In the Zoos That now our homelands Have become, Markets of leftovers, Guns are taller Than our children.
In the beggarhood Of a Circus That now is home, The whip of the Ringmaster Cracks with a snap That eats through The backs of our being.
Hands stretching In a prayer Of submission In a beggarhood Of Elders delicately Performing the tightrope To amuse the Gate For Tips That will bring home Toys of death.
Soyinka: How Winning Nobel Prize Affected Me Negatively
Soyinka
By Emmanuel Addeh in Yenagoa
Celebrated Nobel Laureate, Prof. Wole Soyinka, at the weekend in Kaiama, Kolokuma/Opokuma Local Government Area of Bayelsa State, narrated how winning the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1986 negatively affected his life.
The professor of Comparative Literature, who was taking questions from students of the Ijaw National Academy and other schools in the state, said the award had robbed him of his privacy and anonymity.
Answering a question by one of the students, the Ogun-born playwright noted that the pressure as a Nobel Laureate had made him reorganise some of his priorities.
Asked if it had affected him, he said: “Yes, and in a negative way. Very often I cannot do the things I really want to do because I have lost what is one of the greatest gifts, and that is anonymity.
“It means one’s constituency has been enlarged. Your priorities change not because you want to, but because of the pressure,” he explained.
While paraphrasing Bernard Shaw, a 1925 Laureate himself, Soyinka explained that while the effect was not always negative, it had nevertheless created its own challenges.
“Let me summarise by quoting Bernard Shaw when he was awarded the Nobel Prize very late in life: ‘It takes a devilish mind to invent such a destructive thing as dynamite, but it must have been a diabolical thing from hell who invented the Nobel Prize,’ and I agree with him sometimes, not all the time,” he added.
On what it takes to win the prize, the poet and dramatist said it was not necessarily the quantity but the “taste” of the literary work.
“I assure you that it is not the quantity, it’s the quality and very often the relevance and finally the literary taste of that particular work. Because literature is very subjective and very often a lot that happens depends on what I call the taste of any jury deciding on the work.
“So, yes, it might be the quality, it is also the relevance, but ultimately, whether we like it or not, it is the taste of the jury which is deciding on the work of art,” he explained.
He told the students of the school, a free boarding, free tuition institution, that how literary minds decide to go about their work depends on the individual.
“It’s a very difficult question. Sometimes an idea sticks in the mind and it continues to gestate and you may even think you have forgotten about it, but it’s actually operating in the subconscious.
“You go out and do other things, but one day you get the structure through which to narrate the idea and the two things come together. But the idea is (always) there. It may be at home or something you read in the newspaper,” he explained.
Source: ThisDay
2015 poll: How Patience Jonathan aided Buhari’s victory
Former First Lady, Patience Jonathan By Soni Daniel, Northern Region Editor
..New book chronicles her many fights, gaffes, troubles that alienated the North, made her husband look weak and ill-suited for the office of President
IF all the people who worked for President Goodluck Jonathan were to be assessed for the roles they played prior to and during the last presidential election in 2015, his wife, Dame Patience, would certainly get a top prize for campaigning rigorously for her husband to emerge victorious.
She did not only criss-cross the length and breadth of Nigeria mobilising women and men to vote for Jonathan, but also spoke aggressively to win their hearts to do the needful.
However, a new book, “Against the Run of Play: How an incumbent President was defeated in Nigeria”, written by Segun Adeniyi, Editorial Board Chairman of Thisday Newspaper, which was unveiled in Lagos on Friday, faults the strident and deft roles played by the former First Lady, blaming her for unconsciously arming the opposition to defeat her husband.
According to Adeniyi, the President was hardly one year in office when the First Lady had an explosive encounter with the Speaker at the time, Aminu Waziri Tambuwal, and the then Rivers State Governor, Rotimi Amaechi.
On a simmering note, Dame also had altercations with the then Senate President, David Mark and the Deputy Speaker of the House of Representatives, Emeka Ihedioha among others, over suspicion they were eyeing the Presidency.
Adeniyi quotes Dame Jonathan as telling Tambuwal: “You this Hausa boy, you want to bring down the government of my husband; you want to disgrace him out of power? Una no fit! God no go allow you.”
As confirmed by David Mark, “Tambuwal and Ihedioha, who were actually working with him to promote the Jonathan Presidency, were seen as political enemies and in the war of attrition that ensued, the presidency unwittingly sowed the seeds of opposition in the National Assembly. Since the PDP was pushing Tambuwal away, the opposition began to embrace him”.
“The problem arose because the first lady kept alleging that Tambuwal had presidential ambitions and for that reason, could not be relied upon to support her husband.
“I guess she had the same fear about me even when she never said it to my face. She once accosted Senator Joy Emordi to say, ‘Joy, I hear you are the manager of David Mark Presidential Campaign Organisation’, which was a baseless accusation
“I had to meet the President to clarify issues with him, So, I would say it was President Jonathan and his wife, who radicalised Tambuwal and turned him into a political foe,” Mark pointed out in the book.
Recalling another potential political ally, which Dame Jonathan drove into the hands of the opposition and unconsciously helped to work against Jonathan, Adeniyi captured how the former first lady started attacking the then Rivers State Governor, Rotimi Amaechi, over land matters in Okrika, where she hails from, embarrassing the governor before her natives. This was barely six months in August 2010 after Jonathan had been sworn in as President following the death of YarÁdua in February of that year.
The author says, “In the course of a two-day visit to Rivers State, Dame Patience Jonathan engaged then Governor Amaechi in an open altercation in Okrika, her home town. The governor was explaining why there would be some demolitions in the town to make way for new schools proposed by the state Government when Dame snatched the microphone from him and shouted, “Listen, you must listen to me!
“A clearly embarrassed Amaechi stood still while Dame Patience Jonathan railed at him, “I want you to get me clear. I am from Okrika, I know the problems of my people. So, I know what I am talking about. I do not want us to go into crisis. We are preaching peace and we must maintain peace at any time. But what I am telling you is that you always say you must demolish. That word ‘must’ you use is not good. It is by pleading. You appeal to the owners of the compound because they will not go into exile. Land is a serious issue”.
By the time the first lady was done, she had whipped up sentiments within the community against Amaechi’s plan.
“From that day, the battle-line was drawn between the two as Mrs. Jonathan made it clear she would not tolerate a governor from her state who would not bow to her. And it was not in Amaechi’s nature to be easily muzzled.
But President Jonathan tried to downplay the rift between him and Amaechi, contending that he did not have any trouble with Amaechi and that the disagreement was rather between his wife and the former governor.
Jonathan declares, “Amaechi’s problem was not with me but with my wife and at one point I tried to reconcile them”.
Amaechi retorted, “I am happy that President Jonathan told you about my problem with his wife but he apparently did not tell you the whole story. The question you should ask yourself is, why should a governor have problem with the wife of the president? The simple answer is that I could not surrender my mandate to a woman in Abuja, even if such a person was the wife of the president. Also, I could not possibly grant questionable demands that would make me betray my oath of office. I won’t say more than that for now since I am also writing my memoirs but that was basically my sin with Dame Patience Jonathan.
As if this was not enough, Mrs. Jonathan stoked further fire of alienation against her husband in the North shortly after the 279 Chibok girls were seized by Boko Haram in April 2014. Contrary to the sympathy expressed by the world towards the kidnap of the school girls, Dame rather gave the impression that the event was stage-managed to embarrass Jonathan and his administration.
“After the kidnap of Chibok girls, Dame Jonathan also threw spanners into the works while the military was battling to find the missing girls and further drew opium for the Jonathan administration rather than add electoral value to him.
The book reports: “While the management of the crisis by the military had begun to put credibility in serious doubt, the bigger problem for Jonathan came from the home front.
“In what she framed as a plot to discredit her husband, Dame Patience Jonathan told a group of visiting women led by the PDP National Women Leader, Mrs. Kema Chikwe, “We the Nigerian women are saying no child is missing in Borno State. If any child is missing, let the governor go and look for them. There is nothing we can do again”.
“Holding court, the first lady denounced the wife of the Borno State Governor and she said the Borno authorities should be held accountable for what happened. She then launched into a monologue.
“I told the governor’s wife to call the parents of the abducted children; she did not honour it till today. The next thing I saw was women demonstrating on the streets. Now again, before Friday, my protocol officer called her and she gave 100 percent assurance that she will be here on Friday. Now again, she is not here. Because she is the mother of Borno, she is the mother of those children and I am the grandmother.
“She should feel more concerned. But she is not. I and the Nigerian women are calling her but she is not here. It is left for you. If you tell me you are not pained, why should I cry more than the bereaved? If I do so, the world will ask me questions.
“You people are playing games. This thing will not help us. After today, if these Borno people say we should not help them, you Nigerian women should not go out to demonstrate because they are playing games. You can keep it in Borno and let it end there. The police came with their own people; the army came with their own; WAEC came with their own people but the Borno government came with a few. No parent is here to tell us that a child is missing. They cannot produce whose child is missing…”
The author goes further: “ The tirade climaxed in a bizarre mix of self-pity and contrition that had Mrs. Jonathan dabbing at her tears while uttering the infamous refrain that immediately went viral, “You want to kill my husband; you want to make me a widow before you go and rest. My God will never make me a widow. Diaris God o! Diaris God o!”
“Apart from Dame’s mangled attestation to the existence of God, she also widened the lexicon with a phrase that became an instant sensation, “Na only you wake come?
“Shortly after the tirade by Mrs. Jonathan, Boko Haram leader, Abubakar Shekau, released a video, admitting abducting the helpless girls.
“In this ‘stranger-than-fiction’ situation, the opposition didn’t have to do much to shape the narrative against the Jonathan administration.
Latching on the gaffes committed by the former first lady, the opposition party spokesman, Lai Mohammed and current Information Minister, descended heavily on the first family apparently to score some political points.
Mohammed said, “Apparently, the first lady believed, as she revealed on public television and as it has been insinuated in certain quarters, that the girls’ abduction was a ruse aimed at embarrassing her husband, hence neither she nor her husband took the whole tragedy seriously. That explained their delay in acting,” Lai Mohammed, the APC spokesman at the time, said.
“Now that the Boko Haram terrorists have claimed responsibility for the abduction and even threatened to sell the girls, the nation hopes that the first lady and her husband now believe this is no politics,” Mohammed added.
Warning that the melodrama highlighted by the shedding of made-for-television tears would not bring back the girls to their parents, Mohammed cautioned that, by usurping the President’s constitutional role, Dame Patience Jonathan was making her husband look weak and ineffective in conducting the affairs of state, and also making Nigeria the butt of jokes in the international community.
The book also alluded to the defeat of Jonathan at the 2015 poll to the utterances to those close to the former president, chief among them being his wife, Patience.
It quotes the former Niger State Governor, Babangida Aliyu, as accusing the former first lady of insulting the North with incendiary language, thereby alienating them from Jonathan during the election.
According to the Chief Servant, Mrs. Jonathan made sneering remarks against the north, by saying “Our people no dey born children wey dem no dey count. Our men no dey born throw way for street; we no dey like people from the other side”, an apparent reference to the concept of Almajiri common in the region.
Beyond the negative things she reportedly said about the North, Dame Jonathan is also quoted by the book to have done little to help the perception of her husband’s presidency through her activities and utterances.
It says, “Yet, the failure to control his household was not only a big negative for Jonathan, it was lending credence to the 2012 WikiLeads report that his wife has a more forceful personality than him and that he “ has little or no control over her.
It also pointed out that Jonathan did not rein in her wife despite knowing the limit of her educational and social standing.
“Despite being conscious of the educational and social deficits of his wife, Jonathan failed to insulate her from making a mockery of his position. For instance, in the course of a PDP rally in Calabar, Cross River State, on 2nd March 2015, Dame Patience Jonathan urged PDP members to stone anyone that promised change, which was the APC slogan.
“Anyone that come and tell you change, stone that person, “the First Lady could be heard telling the crowd in a video clip that immediately went viral. “Anybody that tells you change, tell that person, carry your change and get away,” she added.
To worsen matters politically for Jonathan, most of the provocative speeches by her wife were made a few weeks and months to the general election, which really offended voters, particularly in the North, where her husband needed support most to coast home with victory.
One of such provocative speeches, which did little or nothing to Jonathan’s support base, was delivered by Dame Jonathan at the PDP Women Presidential Campaign Rally in Kogi State, a northern town, a few days to the presidential election, when she described the then APC Presidential candidate, Muhammadu Buhari, as being brain dead.
She said poignantly in Pidgin at the rally attended by thousands of people in Lokoja, the state capital, “Wetin him (Buhari) dey find again? Him dey drag with pikin mate. Old man wey no get brain, him brain don die pata pata” (What does Buhari want again? He is jostling for power with someone young enough to be his son. Old man whose brain is completely dead!).
Apart from that speech, which left some of the attendees at the rally confused, others felt bad and confused.
The author compares the provocative speech by Dame Jonathan to that given by Aisha Buhari, who, according to him, was persuaded to enter the political field to campaign for her husband and how her message resonated with everyone because of calmness, beauty and poise.
“While Dame Jonathan was provocative, Mrs. Aisha Buhari’s emergence on the campaign trail had won huge support for her husband. In a riposte to Dame Jonathan, she said, “The wife of the President is supposed to be a mother to all Nigerians, regardless of political affiliation. So, for her to say northerners are almajiris who beg for alms is sad. What is disturbing Patience is the large size of the north and we thank God for our population,” Aisha Buhari replied Dame Jonathan.
Summing up the feeling within Jonathan’s camp and the PDP just before they went into the crucial election in 2015, Adeniyi submits: “ In hindsight, many PDP leaders believe Jonathan’s wife did incalculable damage to the aspiration of Jonathan through her utterances in the course of the campaigns. As the former Niger State Governor, Babangida Aliyu points out, “the way Dame Patience Jonathan kept insulting the North made it difficult for people to openly identify with the PDP for fear of being attacked. For instance, three weeks to the election, Dame Jonathan said people from the region usually dump children on the streets,” the former governor fumed.
In summing up, the author concluded that a combination of factors unconsciously orchestrated by both Jonathan and his wife, Dame, cost him the presidency.
Adeniyi says: “From the manner in which he handled his failed bid to install a Speaker of the House of Representatives in June 2011, to his inability to discern how much Nigerians detest leaders tainted with the brush of corruption, to futile attempt to dabble into the Nigerian Governors Forum Chairmanship election and how that eventually led to ill-will and a split within the ruling party, to the unfortunate Chibok ‘Waka-Come’ theatrics and several other gaffes by his wife, Jonathan gave ample ammunition to the opposition to define him in a manner that left many to conclude that he was ill-suited for the job of President and Commander-in-Chief of the Nigerian Armed Forces.
Azubuike Ishekwene, outstanding Nigerian journalist and one-time Editor of The Punch, who reviewed the book, had this to say about the defeat of Jonathan: “To make matters worse for Jonathan, his wife, Dame Patience, seemed to have a talent for courting controversies and behaved, almost from the beginning, as if she and her husband were on a joint ticket.
Would it have been possible for those close to the first family to avoid or better manage the actions and inactions of Dame Patience Jonathan to give the Jonathan government a better image and solid footing to complete its terms? Perhaps, history and time, the ultimate judge, will provide the answer in the near future.
How do we celebrate the death of an illustrious daughter in Africa?Sounds like the question you get from the people on the other side who believe that Africa is just one country in its primordial state, Tarzan-like existence, and endless gyrations of drums and female waists. To my question – it depends on the part of Africa and in the case of our renowned author, Buchi, the place in Nigeria she came from.
I first learnt about her death from a generic e-mail sent to a group I belonged to and I was shocked. The thing about literary works is that they confer on the writer some attributes of eternity. Your books make you alive forever in the minds of the reader- it is an unconscious harmony of writer, story and character immortalised in the mind of the reader. So I never expected it nor to be frank,truly appreciated the works of this great pioneer African female writer as I should.
As a student of literature, I soaked myself in Apartheid literature especially the works of Alex la Guma; when I was not doing that, I reveled in the works of our Nobel laureate Wole Soyinka, the sagely works of Chinua Achebe and not too long ago organised a private meeting with Chimamanda Adiche and my former Japanese MD who not only asked that her buy all her books for him, but that he needed to meet with her.
Looking back now, I wondered why I never had Buchi on my radar. Her CV spoke volumes of her achievement and many laurels followed her steps. As I am wont to do, when starting any research, I did a quick check on Wikipedia and even this basic source spooled out the enormous achievement of this literary prodigy. She had over 16 novels in her kitty, not to mention the short stories, and plays. I remember growing up, we had The Slave Girl on the shelf in the sitting room, but I busied myself with the romantic books of Dennis Robbins and Barbara Cartland that competed for space on the shelf. The Slave Girl had no chance. Just like the proverbial hunter who scorned domestic animals, but yearned for the forest beasts, I took her works for granted and even when I began reading African writers, her works did not bubble up my interest pot.
Indeed Buchi Emecheta was from Ibusa, Delta State, a place I come from and much of her works highlighted the traditions and cultures of not just an ethnic group but the peculiar experiences of the mid-western Igbo. Her works echoed the Igbulu nna ngo ( marriage of a late brother’s wife), the ancient burial of life slaves with their masters or mistresses, the forced marriages and kidnap that young girls faced, the countless deaths in families which may have been caused by Sickle Cell Anaemia, but attributed to a curse or Chi. Her works chronicled the story of her people from pre-colonial times to an exodus period in the 50s and 60s when a lot of people moved North (especially Kaduna, Kano, Jos) and Lagos to seek better and modern lives working with the Nigerian Railway and Police. Others like my Maternal Grandfather learnt artistry and raised their Family in Kano or Kaduna. That was the age of dispersal. Some took bolder decisions and by sheer dint of hard work and intellect, got scholarships as espoused in her life story. My own father was part of this later overseas dispersal. She touched on the civil war in her book and In the Joys of Motherhood, the hardship of the war and how a character, the young wife in a polygamous setting became a prostitute to eke her living.
In all her stories, the plight, challenges, and on a few occasions the triumph of womanhood remained foregrounded. And just like her characters, she poured out her life in her biography which was a litany of endless challenges, of abuse and the courage to get beyond this. She drew strength from her plight, remaining focused on her work and eventually winning for herself literary laurels that adorn the African Writers Hall of Fame and most importantly made her one of the most celebrated female novelists – even outside Africa.
The truth is that Buchi was not celebrated as much as her male contemporaries. Like most situation whether work, sports or politics, women will need to work twice as hard to get the same kind of recognition as their male counterpart and when I say hard work, I mean brain hard work. When they fail especially in politics, it hits the media rooftops like the plight of President Park Guen-Hye of South Korea. It is important that women should know that they need to work harder in everything including integrity to achieve success and confront this knowledge with the actions required. Constructive women support works and women icons, not feministic hysteria have opened doors for women through centuries and will continue to do so for a long time.
In the 19th and early 20th centuries, the idea that a woman could vote or become someone greater than a housewife was atypical, not to mention vying for presidential election or becoming a president. With the progress women have made so far, I know that someday people will no longer have to write essays and novels propagating women’s rights – who knows, the focus may shift to animal rights.
So back to Buchi- how do we celebrate the death of an illustrious daughter? The sound of the local guns will definitely be heard to herald her death and tell the people they have lost an illustrious daughter. Her children will have to get a big fat cow to her family-in a ceremony called IKPU ESHI. Not that the cow is a replacement for the loved one, but it is an opportunity to share from the bounty of the dead sister. The cow is killed and distributed to all in the Ogbe or village, with the titled men or Obis having the larger share followed by the men and lastly the women who take the Ukwu or lower end of the cow.
She will probably have the honour of the Okanga dance, largely for men, but also for women who have matured in age and status. Then there will be the IKPU NNU… We celebrate death because we believe it is a rite of passage into eternity. Buchi Emecheta would have had the colourful dances that flowed with this rite. She may have had the Egwu-in-law.
Anyway, this did not happen in the UK. There were no traditional frills. Buchi had an English burial, with flowers, eulogies et al. and from the pictures simple, very well attended and dignified burial too.
I have my own version of the burial rites. I will pass by my family house and pick the dusty Slave Girl Novel forgotten on the shelf. I will read this and give it also to my daughter, nieces to read. We must keep alive the names of women who have done greatly to highlight the narrative of the African woman and womankind. She told it simply and fearlessly. She transited quietly and fearlessly. We too have a responsibility to tell the woman’s story simply, but fearlessly.
The casualties are not only those who are dead. They are well out of it. The casualties are not only those who are dead. Though they await burial by instalment. The casualties are not only those who are lost Persons or property, hard as it is To grope for a touch that some May not know is not there. The casualties are not only those led away by night. The cell is a cruel place, sometimes a haven. No where as absolute as the grave. The casualties are not only those who started A fire and now cannot put out. Thousands Are burning that have no say in the matter. The casualties are not only those who are escaping. The shattered shall become prisoners in A fortress of falling walls The casualties are many, and a good member as well Outside the scenes of ravage and wreck; They are the emissaries of rift, So smug in smoke-rooms they haunt abroad, They do not see the funeral piles At home eating up the forests. They are wandering minstrels who, beating on The drums of the human heart, draw the world Into a dance with rites it does not know. The drums overwhelm the guns… Caught in the clash of counter claims and charges When not in the niche others left, We fall. All casualties of the war. Because we cannot hear each other speak. Because eyes have ceased the face from the crowd. Because whether we know or Do not the extent of wrongs on all sides, We are characters now other than before The war began, the stay-at-home unsettled By taxes and rumours, the looters for office And wares, fearful everyday the owners may return. We are all casualties, All sagging as are The cases celebrated for kwashiorkor. The unforeseen camp-follower of not just our war.
Tribite to Buchi Emecheta by Margaret Busby Buchi Emecheta
Buchi Emecheta, who has died aged 72, was a pioneer among female African writers, championing the rights of girls and women in novels that often drew on her own extraordinary life, its trajectory spanning her struggle for an education to having her books set on school curriculums. Whether in her early vivid documentary novels, In the Ditch (1972) and Second-Class Citizen (1974) – about a young black single mother living in the slums of north London – or in the ironically titled The Joys of Motherhood (1979), set in a traditionally male-oriented society in colonial Nigeria , or in her autobiography Head Above Water (1984), or Gwendolen (1989), Emecheta’s writings epitomised female independence, the necessity to grow stronger in the face of any setback.
She was born in Lagos, Nigeria – her father was Jeremy Nwabudinke, a railway worker; her mother was Alice (nee Okwuekwuhe) – but it was with the town of Ibusa, where her Igbo parents originated, that she identified, having spent formative childhood years there. “Buchi’s life was always overshadowed by the poverty and the deprivations of her early years,” her son Sylvester said. “She was a sick, poorly and undernourished child but with a ravenous desire to survive, against all odds. She lost her father, who doted on her, when she was eight years old. With his passing, she and her younger brother were left at the mercy of a mother who, due to lack of education, was unable to appreciate the talent in the young girl.”
According to family legend, said Sylvester, a benefactor “spotted the intelligence in the young girl with the large, forever watchful eyes”, and gave her the necessary support and encouragement to continue her schooling, rather than selling oranges in the market as her mother wanted.
In 1954 she won a scholarship to the prestigious Methodist girls high school, in Yaba, Lagos, mixing with children of the elite. “In her first year there her mother also died and she was passed back and forth between distant relatives within the Ibusa community in Lagos,” said Sylvester. “During holidays, while her classmates returned to their family mansions, she remained in the dormitory taking refuge in books and in her imagination, regaling her friends on their return with the wondrous things she had done during the summer.”
By the age of 11 she had met Sylvester Onwordi, a student who five years later became her husband. In 1960, her first child, a daughter, was born and in 1961 a son. Her husband travelled to London to attend university, and in the chill of February 1962 Emecheta joined him with their two young children. A second son was born that year, and by 1966 the family had expanded with the birth of two more daughters.
Her autobiographical writings chronicle the unhappiness of her marriage. In Second-Class Citizen, Adah – Emecheta’s alter ego – challenged by atrocious living conditions and a violent husband, finds refuge in her dream of becoming a writer.
After Emecheta’s husband burned the manuscript of what would have been her first novel, she left him and set about raising her five small children alone, finding employment as a library assistant at the British Museum while studying at night, earning a sociology degree at London University in 1974.
She began writing about her experiences for the New Statesman , and a book based on her columns appeared as In the Ditch, in which her feisty protagonist, Adah, remains fiercely resistant to the attempts of a welfare system to relegate her and her children to the ranks of a “problem family”.
Happening early upon her writing, I resolved to help make Emecheta’s courageous voice as widely heard as possible, and was privileged to become her publisher at Allison & Busby , where we developed a close editorial relationship; I reciprocated her trust in my judgment by doing whatever necessary – from retyping manuscripts to producing cover artwork – to communicate her words to the world.
The dedications of her key books are telling. In the Ditch’s was: “To the memory of my father, Jeremy Nwabudike Emecheta, railwayman and 14th Army soldier in Burma.” Second-Class Citizen (1974) referenced “my dear children, Florence, Sylvester, Jake, Christy and Alice, without whose sweet background noises this book would not have been written”. The Bride Price (1976), the author said, was “for my mother, Alice Ogbanje Emecheta”. With The Slave Girl (1977), which won the New Statesman’s Jock Campbell award, I felt moved and humbled when she insisted on: “To Margaret Busby for her believing in me.”
The Joys of Motherhood (1980) was dedicated to “all mothers”, while she prefaced Destination Biafra (1982), the first female perspective on the Nigerian civil war, with: “I dedicate this work to the memory of many relatives and friends who died in this war, especially my eight-year-old niece Buchi Emecheta, who died of starvation, and her four-year-old sister Ndidi Emecheta, who died two days afterwards of the same Biafran disease …”
Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie – more celebrated than any previous African woman writer – acknowledged her debt to Emecheta: “I read and admired all her books. Destination Biafra was very important for my research when I was writing Half of a Yellow Sun. The book I adored was The Joys of Motherhood, for its sparkling intelligence and a certain kind of honest, lived, intimate insight into working-class colonial Nigeria.”
Ama Ata Aidoo, one of the few African women to have been writing internationally since the 1960s, and who taught The Joys of Motherhood in a course on African women’s literature, said: “Buchi Emecheta was expert at cutting through mush. So at writers’ conferences and other public meetings, while we fumbled for responses to the perennially frustrating question, ‘Which of your books is your favourite?’, Buchi would be swift with: ‘My books are like my children. I don’t have favourites.’”
While committed to the liberation of women, she did not label herself a feminist, claiming: “Apart from telling stories, I don’t have a particular mission. I like to tell the world our part of the story while using the voices of women.” Alastair Niven, former director of the Africa Centre, London, recalled the influential storytelling sessions she held there: “Without seeking to be so, she became an outstanding role model for how black women from another country could achieve a respected place in British society through sheer determination and ability.” In the opinion of James Currey, who as editorial director of
Heinemann’s African Writers Series later issued Emecheta’s work, “She, Flora Nwapa and Bessie Head gave women from Africa the idea that they might get published.”
Emecheta also occasionally wrote plays and children’s books, as well as building a career as a visiting academic at US universities including Pennsylvania State, Rutgers, UCLA, and Yale, and becoming a resident fellow of English at the University of Calabar in Nigeria. With her son Sylvester, for a time she published under her own imprint, Ogwugwu Afor. In 2005 she was appointed OBE.
Although she had so effectively transformed dreams into reality, adversity into success, in 2010 a stroke curtailed her mobility and her writing, and she became progressively ill. Two of her children, Florence and Christy, predeceased her. She is survived by Sylvester, Jake and Alice.
Florence Onyebuchi Emecheta, writer, born 21 July 1944; died 25 January 2017
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