Monday, November 24, 2014

Keeping hope alive for younger Nigerian writers

CHUKS OLUIGBO

The road to the top of the writing career in Nigeria is fraught with a lot of challenges. Sometimes it is a mix of high and low moments, sadness and joy, disappointments and successes; and at other times it is just one straight sad story. But with hard work, diligence, patience, perseverance, perspicacity, and sometimes an element of luck, one can still make a success of it.

The problem is that many younger Nigerian writers, those who are based in Nigeria, seem too impatient. They are often in a haste to publish and in the process make a lot of regrettable mistakes. The other problem is that once they fail in that first attempt, they begin to think the door is permanently shut; that there is absolutely no hope for them to even raise their heads above the level where they are. They blame the harsh Nigerian environment; and they conclude that they won’t succeed unless they travel overseas. Then they justify their stance with ready names of writers who, according to them, wouldn’t have succeeded if they hadn’t travelled to Oyibo man’s country.

Well, there may be some merit in the argument about one environment being more conducive than the other. However, it doesn’t tell the whole story. It doesn’t tell us, for instance, that while for a number of Nigerian writers we only heard about them when they found themselves outside the country, the general rule is that many others started here, made a success of their writing career here, and won international laurels while still here. Thereafter, some relocated overseas while others stayed back, keeping the fire alive. It doesn’t also tell us that Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart, which has today been translated into over 50 world languages, was written right here in Nigeria; nor does it say that that masterpiece was actually rejected a number of times before Heinemann eventually reluctantly accepted to publish it. And it doesn’t tell us that Helon Habila, author of the award-winning Waiting for an Angel (Commonwealth Writers Prize for New Writing) and Measuring Time (the Caine Prize), began his writing career here.

A little about Helon Habila. Born in Kaltungo, present-day Gombe State, Helon first worked as a teacher in Bauchi before moving over to Lagos, where he first wrote for Hints Magazine, and then Vanguard. Interestingly, Helon wrote Waiting for an Angel while in Nigeria and won the Commonwealth Prize from here, before proceeding to the UK for a fellowship, then a PhD, and then to the United States as the first Chinua Achebe Fellow at Bard College.

In a brief chat with him in Abuja during the 2010 Fidelity Creative Writing Workshop which he facilitated, and in which I happened to be one of the about 20 participants, Helon told me that, in his reckoning, up-and-coming Nigerian writers have better chances of making it today than he had when he was an aspiring writer.

“We have a democracy now, even though it is not where we want it to be. But basically, things are freer now. There are actually indigenous publishing companies that publish, places like Cassava Republic and Farafina. There weren’t any when I was trying to get published in 1999/2000. So, it was bleaker. Plus there was a dictatorship then; you couldn’t think; you had no freedom; you couldn’t do what you wanted to do. But now I think it’s much better,” Helon said in that interview.

“Now they have models. There are people like Chimamanda Adichie who have done it. And if you want to look at men, there are people like me who have done it, people like Bi Bandele, and so on. So, they can actually not say that they can’t do it because it’s not been done, or because it’s impossible. They have exemplars, they have people who have done it, and we started from here. It’s not as if I was born in America or London, no; or I wrote my book there, no. Actually, I lived here and I wrote it here and I got it published here. People like Tricia Nwaubani are even living here now and they’ve won Commonwealth prizes. So, I think things are better than they were, and any other person who wants to do this has no excuse not to achieve, or not to go as far as the skies, if that is what you want,” he added.

Very reassuring words for the conscientious aspiring writer! And you can add a list of other Nigerian writers who live here and are making a success of their career right here in Nigeria. You can also add that the NLNG-sponsored Nigeria Prize for Literature has over the years virtually been won by home-based writers, with the foreign league occasionally strolling in. That’s a big statement. So, unless you decide to kill the spirit, just know that you can get to where you want to, no matter your location, if you work hard at it.

One more thing: don’t be discouraged if publishers do not readily accept to publish your work. And don’t abuse them. Don’t complain that they only accept works from known writers. Just try to understand with them. Think of it, these publishing companies are in business; they are taking on writers that can guarantee quick return on their investment. If you were in their shoes you’d probably do the same. Just keep writing, and keep using online platforms to push out your works. Someday, if you work hard enough, and if you stand out, publishers will be falling over themselves to publish your book.

In concluding, the words of Akachi Ezeigbo, accomplished writer and professor of English at the University of Lagos, in a recent interview I had with her, come in handy: “You see, writing is not all about producing a manuscript and rushing to the publisher or the printing press to print it out. There is a kind of programme that any work must pass through for it to come out well. That’s why there are publishers. Overseas they have literary agents and editors before the publisher comes in. A book really has to go through these processes if it has to come out well. But when you just produce a manuscript this year, and you are in too much of a hurry, three months you go and print it, no matter how talented you are, that book will suffer some disadvantages. Many people may be having this problem because they are too impatient; not because they are not writing well, but because they are not following due process. There is due process in writing too. There are trained editors, and you need to let them see your work. There are publishing houses in Nigeria which have good editors, and if they publish you, they are not in a hurry. So, I think the writer should be more patient and tarry a while to edit and re-edit before publishing.”

I rest my pen!

Friday, November 21, 2014

Seriously, writing is serious business

CHUKS OLUIGBO

Never mind that we like to treat it like some piece of bullshit in these parts, creative writing is serious business. And never mind that we live in a part of the world where someone asks you what you do and you say you’re a writer and the person insists, “I know you write, but what do you do for a living?” All this happens because big organisations here don’t always like to put money down when it comes to intellectually-enriching projects, but they like to invest so much money in projects that do not necessarily edify society. A young writer friend of mine has asked me several times over what lessons young people like him are supposed to learn from all the trending ‘Big Brother’ reality TV shows – that you can bathe naked in front of the camera and win a huge amount at the end of the day? I’m still at a loss regarding what to answer him.

Meanwhile, just the other day I came across the following on a friend’s Facebook wall: “MTN Project Fame: N7.5 million + SUV; Etisalat Nigerian Idol: N5 million; Glo Naija Sings: N5 million + SUV; Gulder Ultimate Search: N10 million + SUV; Maltina Dance All: N10 million + SUV; Cowbell Mathematics Competition: N100,000; Lagos State Spelling Bee competition: N50,000; Schools' scrabble: N25,000; Cool FM spelling game: a goodie bag filled with Amila drink – and you're asking why there's so much failure in WAEC?”

Funny as the above may sound, it’s nonetheless true. I’m not saying it is bad behaviour to sponsor music contests that eventually discover new talents, but why can’t literature get a share of the big dough? Don’t creative writers deserve big money too? In September this year, my good friend Chidozie Chukwubuike, chairman of the Imo State branch of Association of Nigerian Authors (ANA), organised a state convention themed ‘When poets speak truth to power’. In a chat with him prior to the event, Chukwubuike told me all the efforts he had put in and how difficult it had been for him to get any corporate organisation, government or individual to commit to the funding of the programme. “It is very unfortunate that not many individuals or organisations are eager to commit money to the promotion of literature,” he lamented. “I wish our people can realise that literature is the surest instrument for the attainment of immortality and no investment in it can be too much.”

So, why do we not often like to fund literary activities in this country? Do we think that Nigerian youths will not appreciate well-organised poetry performances or short story readings or drama presentations? We lie. It is because we have not bothered. Do you know how many Nigerian youths that apply for the Farafina Creative Writing Workshop facilitated by Chimamanda Adichie or the Fidelity Bank Creative Writing Workshop facilitated by Helon Habila on a yearly basis? Thousands. And that the maiden edition of the Etisalat Prize for Flash Fiction last year drew over 400 entries speaks to that fact that Nigerians are indeed lovers of literature.

I repeat, creative writing is serious business and must be seen as such. Those who know this know. And I’m not talking about Wole Soyinka or Chinua Achebe or Ben Okri or Helon Habila or even Chimamanda Adichie. Virtually every year in the last decade or so, Nigeria Liquefied Natural Gas (NLNG) has made some Nigerian writers richer by a few millions (in naira, of course) through the Nigeria Prize for Literature, so far considered the largest African literary prize and one of the richest literary prizes in the world. Since it was instituted in 2004, the prize has produced the following winners: Gabriel Okara (The Dreamer: His Vision) and Ezenwa Ohaeto (Chants of a Minstrel) in 2005; Ahmed Yerima (Hard Ground) in 2006; Mabel Segun (Reader’s Theatre) and Akachi Adimora-Ezeigbo (My Cousin Sammy) in 2007; Kaine Agary (Yellow, Yellow) in 2008; Esiaba Irobi (Cemetery Road) in 2010; Mai Nasara (The Missing Clock) in 2011; Chika Unigwe (On Black Sisters' Street) in 2012; Tade Ipadeola (The Sahara Testaments) in 2013; and Sam Ukala (Iredi War) in 2014. At inception, the prize was $20,000. It was increased to $30,000 in 2006, $50,000 in 2008, and $100,000 in 2011.

Etisalat has keyed in through the Etisalat Prize for Literature instituted in 2013, though the prize is Africa-wide. ANA national has over the years struggled to sustain its annual literary prizes, though the cash prizes have remained meagre and the number of awards seems to be whittling down due largely to non-redemption of prizes by most sponsors. And there are pockets of smaller literary prizes springing up here and there.

But beyond these, individual Nigerians who know that writing is serious business have taken the bull by the horns. Come December 6, for instance, Joy Isi Bewaji, author, publicist and media entrepreneur, who had earlier hosted a workshop she tagged ‘The Business of Writing’, would be staging a literati concert tagged #‎ThisArtIsEnough at Terra Kulture in Lagos. The concert, which promises to bring on stage about 50 authors, poets, afro/soul singers, spoken word artistes, stage performers, flash fiction writers and art lovers, will feature flash fiction, book readings, poetry, drama, alternate music, recitals, short stories, spoken word and arty performances. Uche Peter Umez, Toni Kan, Wana Udobang, Onyeka Nwelue, among other writers are expected to feature at the event, which will afford writers an opportunity to meet their audience, build their fan base, and sell their work.

“Because we need these alternatives beyond AY comedy shows or Rhythm Unplugged or Trace Music concert,” writes Bewaji on her Facebook wall, “I ask the question: what about me? A writer who is tired of recycled jokes, who isn’t interested in walking through the Atlantic sand to listen to Dbanj sing ‘Why me?’ What about me – defined under ‘new writing’, in love with fashion, good men, dark movies, and involved in cheeky easy reads, working out new methods of getting my voice beyond just a few dreadlocked clan? I create what I want. So I created ‪#‎ThisArtIsEnough.”

Kudos to Joy Isi Bewaji for the initiative. We truly need these alternatives to the regular “sound and fury” that often signify nothing. Just imagine what #‎ThisArtIsEnough would turn out to be if any of the telcos that are harvesting huge profits in this country – or any other big business for that matter – agrees to inject a few millions into it and make it an annual event! Just imagine!