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!
Well done, Chuks. Very enlightening piece. Cheers.
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