Hello world, I have been absent from here for a bit and my health has been a part of the reasons but there are some conversations that need to keep on being had. So, let’s get to one of them…
It is no news that the SEVHAGE chapbook series is coming back in full, or is it? Okay, maybe. But I am sure it is no news that Chinua Ezenwa-Ohaeto won our SEVHAGE/Angya Poetry Prize 2019 (supported by Eunice Spring of Life Foundation). I guess the news is that we are releasing the winning poem, ‘Every Month a Year’ alongside other poems from his entry and others into a chapbook, ‘The teenager who became my mother.’
It has been a fascinating process working on the book alongside a brilliant team led by our phenomenal poetry lead, Innocence Silas Sharamang, a multiple award winning poem, Oko Owi Ocho aka Afrika and the rest of the team. There’s a forward by Olisa Oloka, the editor of The Question Marker and Chinua’s associate. Then the cover, ooohh, the brilliant cover was executed from concept to finish by our design lead, Eugene Odogwu.
I sit down to an interview with Chinua on the book in commemoration of World Lover’s Day. You can find the full interview at HERE.
In case you do not know, Chinua Ezenwa-Ohaeto (@chinuaezenwa) is from Owerri-Nkworji in Nkwerre, Imo State, Nigeria and grew up between Germany and Nigeria. He has won the Association Of Nigerian Author’s Literary Award for Mazarriya Ana Teen Poetry Prize, 2009; Speak to the Heart Inc. Poetry Competition, 2016. He was a runner-up in Etisalat Prize for Literature, Flash fiction, 2014. He won the Castello di Duino Poesia Prize for an unpublished poem, 2018 which took him to Italy. He was the recipient of New Hampshire Institute of Art’s 2018 Writing Award, and the recipient of New Hampshire Institute of Art’s 2018 scholarship to MFA Program. He was also the winner of Eriata Oribhabor Poetry Prize, 2018. In 2019, he was the Winner of SEVHAGE/Angya Poetry Prize and second runner-up in Singapore Poetry Contest. Some of his works have appeared in Lunaris Review, Poet Lore, AFREADA, Rush Magazine, Frontier, Palette, Malahat Review, Southword Magazine, Vallum, Knicknackery, Salamander, Bakwa Magazine, Strange Horizons, One, Ake Review, Crannog Magazine and elsewhere.
Chinua is also the son of the famous Ezenwa-Ohaeto, multiple award winning poet, scholar and author of Chinua Achebe’s definitive biography, Chinua Achebe: A Biography. Lovely to see this one, named after Achebe too, growing in his own stead and gaining his own accolades.
I have said it often and will keep on saying it, that Chinua will keep going places and even as we countdown to the release of his chapbook at the end of August this year, we know we shall be toasting to many more victories.
Happy Book Lovers’ Day people and please read the interview at Sankofa mag by clicking THIS LINK.
Well, this has been one of the major projects taking my time in the last months. It was fun to work on and I am proud of the poet, great guy. Alrightie then, everyone, here is presenting to you: Chinua Ezenwa Ohaeto’s THE TEENAGER WHO BECAME MY MOTHER. Do read, share, and please send us feedback. Much love and the best of regards. SVA
It has been some time coming and you all knew we were going to come through. HERE IT IS, Chinua Ezenwa-Ohaeto’s lovely chapbook, The Teenager who became my mother. It is the third in our SEVHAGE poetry Chapbook series that was inaugurated with Agatha Aduro’s The Enchanting. The series celebrates the best of poetry from fresh and established voices over time.
You can get a feel of the book and the author from an interview he had with Su’eddie Vershima Agema HERE or just google to find some of his amazing poems all over the web.
THOUGHTS ON The Teenager who Became my Mother:
“A boulevard of beauty: Chinua leads us through the plains of memory with a certain grace and simplicity. In this chapbook, a family album is…
I found this poem somewhere on my system from many years ago. I think it was a test from one of our English lessons, maybe Introduction to Creative Writing II or Poetry or something. I do remember the course lecturer though, (now Professor) Moses Tsenongu, himself a poet that we looked up to, then the immediate past Chairman of the Association of Nigerian Authors (Benue State Chapter), a position I would eventually come to occupy years later. It was one of my first less playful poems. The assignment was to write a Valentine poem. Some of my friends asked me how I would conjure one up, since I was not in any relationship. They had healthy laughs at me. Well, I smiled and put on my imaginative hat.
I had fun writing it, so much fun that I ended up writing many more based on the assignment theme. It was refreshing just writing all the things I was writing (though I am laughing at them now). Some of my classmates stole some of the poems and submitted them for their assignments. Hee hee hee. Ah, but did I care? I think I wrote more after that in a style that I have now forgotten. I also remember Andrew Bula, my friend who became the Writers’ League President, a big fan of Achebe then, wrote a piece or two which we made serious notes on. As I think of this poem now, several memories come with it too. Just memories of school then, of my friends, and of a different set of worries that attended us at that time. It is amazing how time makes mockery of those things we once thought were our greatest challenges. Amazing how in retrospect certain challenges become dwarfs. But here we are, at least fourteen or more years later, thinking of those days, remembering the times. And now, looking at how far I have come, I smile at where I have been. Time does change things. Anyways, here it is, unedited:
HURRY NOW…
And, allow us sip our love
Drinking from nature’s abundance
Romance our guide
Valentine our reason
We are tied by destiny’s web
And time claims our sorrow
As the handsome sun dawns today
Delivering us to better tomorrows
Lenrie cried:
“What does it cost to be
Loved and left alone?”
Do not care for the answer
For I beg Nature to cure us of all
Making a twirl to begin our love, our poem, again:
Final note: Thank you, Nket Godwin and Emmiasky Ojex, for your kind comments and reminding me that I have a duty to this blog. One I had forgotten. Bless you.
I know, one of those titles. I assure you I will actively look into thinking about hiring someone to help me work on titles. When the thoughts come in, you let them flow or you lose them while trying to find a title. Etc etc.
I was talking to my friend, Abubakar Adam Ibrahim after a while and catching up on a gazillion things. Naturally, we had to talk about the new normal and the virtual festivals. How did we get there? I and the team at SEVHAGE are working on the Benue Book and Arts Festival, scheduled for December. Like almost everyone else in the literary world, we had a virtual plan but after talking to Abubakar, I think we can work on a hybrid. More on that later, for now, keep the date for first week of of December and we will ensure that whether it is physical or virtual or whatever else, there will be room for you to access our amazing festival in person and online. But that is not what this post is about… This post is about how you have moved on from a project and are on a new one, have spoken about the old projects so much that your mouth will pain you just remembering the book but because it is people’s favourite, it is the one they will want to keep asking questions about. To put it in perspective, imagine Chinua Achebe’s last published work of fiction was Anthills of the Savannah in 1987 but when people met him and wanted to talk about his works, it would often be a conversation revolving around Things Fall Apart of 1958!
So….let’s move on.
Abubakar is one of Nigeria’s finest writers who has won or been nominated for some of the biggest prizes around and he has had his fair share of residencies. His short story collection, Whispering Trees was the first child of Paressia Publishers and the title story was shortlisted for the celebrated Caine Prize. His sophomore publication, Season of Crimson Blossom, published in 2016 won the $100,000 Nigeria Prize for Literature. His works are known for his portrayals of Northern Nigeria in ways people have not seen them before. More than the prizes that Abubakar has won, he has had that rare prize of having readers who love his work and see them as some of the most amazing things they have read. I am myself a big fan of The Whispering Trees, which I anticipated long before it came out. I know several people who swear by Season of Crimson Blossoms. But Abubakar has not stopped at those works. He has kept on writing because this machine of a man does not stop, he keeps moving. He has a new book out next month, a collection of short stories Dreams and Assorted Nighmares published by the cool folks at Masobe books. Often when you move to new projects, especially after many years, you would prefer to discuss your new projects and live in the present. Well, that is how it is for most of us. But does the world move with you? Many times, no. So, you can imagine that at every book chat or festival that Abubakar goes to, the questions will keep alternating from Whispering Trees to Season… even though it has been some years. I imagine how it will take time for Abubakar, or other authors, years after they have left that space to have to keep talking about that same work on and on. There is often that tiredness, isn’t there? I think now of how I often have to struggle to get back into the mould of my own short stories or poetry collection which were published in 2014 and how it takes great consciousness to get back there. Truth be said, once you get in the spirit of the talk, you plug in, because it is your baby, right? But does it ever get to that point where you would not rather talk about something else, a new work or something of the like?
A few authors like Chuma Nwokolo have been able to get people’s attention off old loves and focus on the new. Despite people’s love with Diaries of a Dead African, he hoodwinked people with The Ghost of Sani Abacha, a few other works and the definitive novel, The Extinction of Menai. I think Pa Okey Ndibe also escaped this with his two works, Never Look an American in the Eye and Foreign Gods. Maybe some of us should get some tips on how to keep getting people to move with our works in the living present so that the past of our literary works that is the present of others would not constantly stare us in the face …? Again, does it not say much good that one has a work that has strong staying powers?
But would it not get tired to keep answering questions about the same books over and over over the years? Many times, I am sure you would have answered similar questions (almost to the latter) in different scenarios especially when you appear at a million book chats, panels and festivals like Abubakar. Hee hee hee.
In writing this now, I think I get the idea that once you get a new book out that is finer than the past ones, people might let you rest from the old ones. But still, you would always be a ‘victim’ of your classic works – like our dear Chinua Achebe as mentioned before or Chimamanda Adichie mainly with Half of a Yellow Sun. Thank goodness for the more non-fiction works that have new talk points, right?
Anyways, what has been your literary experience with works in the past versus those in the present and things of the like? Would you rather talk about a new work in progress or about old works from time past? Are there stories you would rather love talking about ad infinitum? Do you think you can ever get tired of talking about your work?
It is the first week of October and the weekend of our dear country Nigeria’s independence (1st October) and we have two awesome festivals here: the five year old Lagos International Poetry Festival (LIPFEST) curated by the superstar spoken word maestro, Efe Paul Azino and the new Quramo Festival, curated by the great folks at the Quramo Publishing Corporation. QFest is a tight bullet affair of depth running from October 2nd to 4th while LIPFEST is a full month roller coaster (October 3 to November 2020).
QFest (themed ‘CREATIVITY RESET: The Future of Words’) started yesterday with lovely sessions from nationalist ones, book chats and even a poetry round table that featured some of the lovely new names on the scene, my people, Hauwa Nuhu Shaffii, Adedayo Agarau, Hauwa Saleh, Logan February and Ibukun Adeeko. The names of the panels are sweet: Silence is our Mother Tongue + Give us Each Day, A Battle of Words: The Pandemic… The last one there was an open mic challenge hosted by Ridwan Adelaja and you can imagine the fun there, of course. Yusuf Balogun Gemini took the gold. Yaaaay! It is interesting that Yusuf lost his father last week Saturday, so this was an emotional win that he also commented on his Twitter handle (@AremoGemini).
The activities continue today from 1000am with a Masterclass with award-winning author, Ukamaka Olisakwe, then other events taking off from 12:00pm (West African Time). Panelists for this amazing festival include award-winning artists and writers including E. E. Sule, Falz the Bahd Guy, Caleb Somtochukwu Okere, Romeo Oriogun, Jude Idada, Ukamaka Olisakwe, Abi Dare, Oyikan Braithwaite, …
On the other hand, LIPFEST, now in its fifth season starts today too with a Masterclass with the internationally acclaimed all-genre author Chris Abani. Later events included a session on deconstructing black masculinity moderated by Buchi Onyegbule (who is administrator of the Abuja Literary Society, and a big man on the Nigerian literary and journalism scenes) and then, there is a performance session billed for 8:15pm that features poets like Dike Chukwumerije (Nigeria) to Ian Keteku (Canada by way of Ghana), Omar Bin Musa, Mufasa, amongst several other voices. The performance is titled ‘Hope is the thing with feathers’: Songs from across the world. Other events continue tomorrow with lots of discussions, performances and other things formerly exclusive now available online, for streaming or interaction virtually. You have Romeo Oriogun, Saddiq Dzukogi, Bash Amuneni, Helon Habila, Jamila Osman, Tolu Akinyemi, Uche Nduka, Ernest Ogunyemi, Nome Emeka Patrick, Precious Arinze, Terrance Hayes, Nii Ayikwei Parkes, Otosirieze Obi-Young, Lebo Mashile, Achile Mbembe, among other amazing artists.
So, don’t you dare say you did not know or that you had nothing fun to do this weekend. However this weekend goes, may the times smile for you and all work together for your good. Cheers! SVA
Hi guys, I will be having a reading this evening, Saturday 28th November 2020 and it will be live on Instagram by 5pm at @yelffoundation and probably on my handle @sueddieagema. See you there!
Nigeria leaves so much for us to desire and the death of the about 45 farmers in Kwashabe village, Jere Local Government Area of Borno State brings this to the fore. It makes one to wonder the worth of a Nigerian life. How long can we go on like this? Now 45 – or more – people, each with names, each with families and destinies cut short have added to the gory statistic of craze called insecurity and extremism. My soul weeps. My soul weeps.
It is my strong opinion that we all need to keep talking about these evils and calling our government to task because these are our siblings being killed. This is a national tragedy and the government through its security agencies need to stand up, fast!
I pray that God will strengthen the families and community of the deceased. This is truly an irreparable loss. My dear country folk, let’s begin to talk more and take actions to rescue the soul of our land. So help us God.
MUTUM RODE with the anger of a man scorched. Riding under a sun that blazed its fury was enough to roast the sympathies out of anyone. He thought of his pimp. Well, she wasn’t exactly a pimp. The woman of his thoughts was the owner of the commercial motorcycle he was riding. He always thought of her as ‘The Pimp.’ She owned several motorcycles that she leased to different riders for commercial use. They all gave her daily returns based on agreements; what she called ‘remit.’ Mutum’s daily remit was five thousand naira. It was a figure whose sum was never meant to dance backward for The Pimp never listened to excuses. She once told the riders that she would not consider any reduction, not even if it was used on rescuing her daughter from the gates of hell!
At that moment, Mutum felt the sun’s heat like a door opened from hell. Though the breeze was meant to keep airing him as he rode, he was drenched in sweat. He had barely made a thousand Naira since morning. He knew the time had to be past noon. He subconsciously looked at his watch, an inheritance from his mother some ten years ago. The stillness of the hands of the watch that stood like an ‘I’ at six o’clock reminded him he had not saved enough to change the battery. He let out a long sigh and noticed a lady with huge buttocks furiously flagging him down. She had a child with her. He thought of her weight and the possibility of her flattening his tires. He thought of riding by but the flatness of his wallet forced his system to decelerate and glide towards her.
“Please, my son, I don’t have money. Can you take me to the market? God will bless you.”
He sized her up and gave her the evil eye. Who did she think she was? He hissed and applied his kick starter. He sped on till he came to the busy part of town. At that point, he saw a girl on the road and calculated that she would move on. So, he rode on. At the last instant, he had to brake as the figure seemed static. The screech was enough to make people around turn and stare. He had barely missed being hit by a car that swerved to the right and moved on. The driver immediately showed that his skills were not only in driving. He flung a curse at Mutum at the top of his voice:
“Idiot! Your father! Your nyarsh!!”
It came out in one breath but the car was soon out of sight. Mutum inhaled the insult and multiplied it by the frustration of the day in addition to the sun’s harsh whip. The sum left his face contorted in a demonic snarl. He opened his mouth to volley his fury at the girl who looked at him with watery eyes. Her eyes showed something he couldn’t decipher. Was it gratitude? Was it an apology? Was it both? He shook it away quickly as he had no time for any. His volley was at the tip of his tongue when she moved. Her steps were shortly measured, deeply impressed on her face in waves of worry that showed pain. Her somewhat disfigured legs were revealed as she tried to wobble across, leaving Mutum’s lane. The fury squeezed out of his face like in a cloth turned by a washer. Someone brought her crutches for her.
He looked at his legs, at his motorcycle.
There is much to be thankful for, he thought to himself.
She turned to look at him and he smiled at her.
“Go ahead,” he said, nodding gently.
It had taken thirty seconds at best but time had seemed to stretch for him. He remembered his situation and kicked his motorcycle to move on. As he stepped on his accelerator, he noticed, coming on the opposing lane and not so far away, a car that might have had a jet engine with the speed it flew with. Mutum turned in time to witness what hit his ears in a most thunderous sound: voooooooooooop!!!
He saw the crutches go up first, then the woman as her ‘JESUS!!’ rent the air. He felt the impact of the force as she smashed against the glass of the windscreen of the car. He absentmindedly echoed her cry as he heard ‘JESUS!’ issue from his mouth. The woman slid off the bonnet as the car sped off. At that moment another car came at full speed from the other direction. The impact of the first hit had left the woman on the lane of the incoming vehicle. Mutum put his hands on his head as the other car approached, its tyres set to crush the neck and what other part of the woman. Mutum closed his eyes. He opened them almost immediately and saw the car swerve away, only inches away from the woman’s neck and head, still at its speed. The driver didn’t stop either but drove at a maddened pace.
“Allahamdullilai! Allahamdullilai! Allahu akbar!” he muttered in quick succession, breathing words of gratitude to the Almighty, as he changed course back to the scene of the accident. In the few seconds a crowd had converged around.
He noticed a woman trying to talk to the bloodied victim on the road. The talking woman was trying to make some calls. Mutum was shocked to see that the lady who had been hit was still alive: “Allahu akbar!” he repeated again and again. People tried flagging vehicles to carry the lady but each vehicle sped on. Mutum looked at her and noticed a chaplet on her neck. He thought again of the balance he had not made. He thought of The Pimp, then remembered what he had just seen. What would have happened to time, life and everything else if he was the one from whose scalp blood gushed like a river? The woman on the phone was shouting for help from everyone. Mutum looked at the face of the woman on the ground. She seemed to have pleasant thoughts in her heart for a smile played at her lips. It was a small smile. He made a decision at the moment, even if it was the last thing he was going to do; to fight for her life.
“Make way!” he shouted, as he edged to her side.
Her smile brightened and broadened fully. And in the midst of the sun’s fury, the heavens opened and washed the earth.
I barely write verse any more so I guess my creative voice is sore. I thought of what to write, what words would be right… What would I want you to read? Would these be the words you need?
I whispered to the Holy Spirit to show my heart’s creative ink how to flow
Then, I somehow googled and found you in that goggled post Oh, sorry, words should be glasses In the video that expresses the real passes – of life that we ignore seeking more as we defy God, then embrace strife wondering as we see life getting worse… Yes, your words, sis – from the video, Stay the course.
Now, that’s the first thing I saw and I had to wonder what it was for…even as I heard your raw Words. So, I listened. And I am listening in every way, Still thinking of the right words to say… Scribbling on as you talk Flowing, somehow not getting stuck Flowing, without slowing
Who knows? Who knows what the Lord really shows? What things you want, A.R, may The Lord grant, even as He lights your way May His grace fall like dew on your face and your worries be few
Stand firm, sis, stand fast and true in every area Be sure, as we walk on, I will be saying you a prayer.
I barely write verse any more so I guess my creative voice is sore. I thought of what to write, what words would be right… What would I want you to read? Would these be the words you need?
Whatever the case… May His grace fall like dew on your face and your worries be few Be sure, as we walk on, I will be saying you a prayer.
I just read a blog post by my cousin, Mimi titled ‘Drink Air.‘ and it brought memories. In summary, the term ‘drink air’ is from a Tiv expression, ‘ma ahumbe.’ It is a literal translation. In our context, it is a term that was popularised by her mom, my aunt Mbatomun and my Dadi, Mr. Charles Ayede. They would be deliberate and just make time out for us to go out, take aimless drives around town or anywhere, or long walks. Sometimes, it would even be a celebration because — no good reason. Just, live. There was that time in the village, Christmas 2009, when we went to the village with Dadi and a battalion of several families to just enjoy our tradition, acculturate and have fun. Truly, it was one of the best Christmases ever and I hope to replicate this some day, if Fanen does not beat me to it.
Christmas in Ajio
But, on the issue of drinking air, we were talking of this on our group chat and Ngodoo, my big cos, reminded me of one time, about sixteen years or so ago, when Dadi got us to go on a road trip with him from Makurdi to Obudu in Cross River to get ‘bamboo.’
We were in the Benue State University (BSU) at the time, three of us – Ngodoo, Henry and I – studying for different first degrees at different levels, myself being the youngest of the crew. Dadi made us wait for him for about seven hours, claiming he was on the North Bank bridge. Get this, he drove in from Abuja which is about four hours and just for that small stretch of the North Bank bridge to the BSU gate which is a two minute drive, we stayed an eternity. I became the sentry at the designated spot, waiting because woe betide you if Dadi got the spot and did not meet anyone waiting. Long story short, we made our journey by 7pm or so and moved to Obudu where we got to visit Mr. Abellagah, who was Dadi’s classmate. We had fun, did crazy stuff on the road, visited people and importantly, somehow did not get to buy any bamboo or anything else for that matter. I remember that Dadi stopped somewhere and bought a lot of soup for the women in the village at Shangev-Ya. He would do that, always ensure that he would buy loads of stuff for the women in the village, from our tse – extended family household comprising many related homes – to even those as far as Ajio, where he would eventually build his big home that we named AGBA AYEDE Heritage. Well, after that road trip which was largely just the really definition of cruise, we returned back to Makurdi and continued with the stress of academics while he drove back to Abuja.
Dadi would take several of such walks in the village and I accompanied him on several when we were working on building the Agba Ayede Heritage which took some years to build due to funds etc. But it was fun, as this walks would take hours, many times starting in the A.Ms. We would branch by houses, greet people and catch up. It was different when we were in Abuja at the Area 11 house where every once in a while, we would either do the drive or take a walk. My younger siblings, Sefa, Fanen and Av were more of the drive partners. It was the same kind of thing he used to do with us when we were far younger too, the Zone 7 crew from Taver and Sever, Mlumun and Ngodoo mainly, then sometimes, Gabriel, Theo and I. Well, we grew up…and so, when it came to the long walks, it was always one or more of the grown-ups like myself, Ngodoo, Henry, Ver, Gabriel or just about anyone. Once we were taking that walk and someone stopped us on recognising Dadi and asked to give him a lift, assuming that his car had a breakdown or something. Dadi was furious and wondered why anyone would believe that a person’s car has to be bad for the person to take a walk and enjoy nature.
During the lock-down I took many walks with my daughter and as life has eased too, have ensured that we take idle drives. We play and get ourselves dirty, and sometimes take the walk or even run to drink air. Sometimes, my wife joins us or we go with my brother through her, Nathaniel. It is always fun and exciting to see the smiles that covers her face and the joy that floods my heart. Of course, it means that often I have to cut down on deadlines and get really exhausted but it is ALWAYS worth it. I also know that while the bond gets closer in those things we do, my body also gets to thank me for the exercise, for the happiness serum and so much more – which work and others cannot near equate.
I am thinking now, like I mentioned to Mimi on her post, that life is busy and leading us to a definite end. Why then do we not become more deliberate to make memories, to drink air and enjoy nature? Due to Dadi and Auntie Mbatomun’s deliberateness with life, we – a new generation – have picked this lifestyle that puts a spark. Maybe you should ponder on what you can do to make life more beautiful, to invest in what memories you can make, to enjoy the outdoors and bring some sparkle to those you are with. Now, it could be parents, family, friends, children… everything passes but memories and the impact of our actions remain.
Time shows life flows by in seconds that tick to the count, shouldn’t we then try to make each of those seconds count?
A family shot from years back after Dadi’s funeral… Amazing how we were laughing in the circumstance. Taver, Msugh, the Itakpes (Hembadoon, Jaasiel and Lois), Tersoo, Sewuese, Su’eddie, Dooyum and Sever… Crouching tigers are Lois (baby), Ngodoo and Mimi (who wrote the Drink Air piece)
These portraits slowly smudge the smiles that lit the streets where our fathers loved, lived and thrived.
Violence is fueled on sensible and senseless plains In the name of brazen gods and a common God called peace Guns blaze while cutlasses fly in the air cutting down destinies Herdsmen hide under false pretences to raise fights as farmers rise Dying as people forget the price of the human life Bandits bully everyone covered by genial graces no one understands Elsewhere, politics, poverty, hunger and hate become arsenals that fuel spite People forget their voices and raise violence… In the Delta, people leave peace to live for others to die
As victims fall, relations rise like the phoenix to avenge them Brotherhood becomes a flash of memory Lost in countless wounds that our warring knives Cut into our destiny…
When bOmBs flash our knowledge away indigenes slap settlers off tongues join to shoot bu-bu-bu-bu-l-lets… and our land is destroyed… in the silence of those who should lead our charge
What trust will remain to bind our souls to the love that once lifted our land?
On the fringes of our nightmares, we endure pain But reprioritizing our values will give us gain If we give peace a chance, drum love, sing to our diverse souls Then sum it with forgiveness, harmony’s dance.
We are always in one place or the other, often where we are in the dark and need light. Or we are in the sun’s glare and need some assurance.
It has been one of those times for several people in this season, last year with COVID-19 and this year, with a million and one deaths. By the 6th of January, I had already lost a cousin, Hembasoon. We are a close knit extended family like most African families are and our cousins are more of siblings to us, so you can imagine how hard it hit. I had seen her on the 3rd of January, a Sunday. The story of my getting to visit her against all odds, late at night, is story for another post. Then, three days later, God called our charming sister home. That was the beginning of the news of several others, some who I knew personally and others who were close to people I know. Some, just people I know from far. Three parish pastors who were part of key moments of my childhood and life, and others. A few weeks back, my elder sister’s sister-in-law died in an accident. My close friend lost his father-in-law… And all these just sudden deaths. No preparation. So, yes, it has been a very interesting year. We have also had loads of news about kidnappers, evil so-called herders, unknown gunmen, etc etc…
It has not just been these issues, we are still coping with daily life struggles like the falling Naira, COVID-19 and other ailments still slaying… but through it all, God has remained true. We have survived and are still here, despite what pain there is. We have hope and there is so much happening that we do not know of, which I KNOW will make things far better. I have great faith because I have seen very very dark days that I came through that has made me know that even though the night lasts long, light comes at day to make all things bright. The sun shines and we move, trying to do our bit slowly but surely till we too become of the earth like all those fine people before us.
I wrote a poem several years ago that appeared in my debut poetry collection, Bring our casket home: Tales one shouldn’t tell (which will be re-released online soon) titled ‘If the sun wasn’t so mean’… I wrote the collection mainly as a reaction to and reflection on the passage of one of the pillars of our home, our dadi, Mr. Charles Ayede. This poem was part of it, and was also a reaction to a poem written by my close friend, Ify Margaret Osuji who had a very bad bad day. Her poem was titled ‘The sun with claws’ and then there was another untitled one. I will search for them. I know though that I wrote this poem and it got me thinking of how, the sun is so much to us. How it promises us much despite the heat it brings – and if you live in Nigeria in places like Sokoto, Yola, Minna, or Makurdi at certain times of the year, you will be able to relate – and discomfort, we need it for so much.
I have gone through some troubled times and I have fought with faith, tried to understand much, made mistakes, fallen, and been in the dark too. I wish I could say I was past all of these and would have no issue again but I know that it is part of life. My joy is the sun still shines and it pushes every darkness away in its wake. Sometimes, this light could be the news of you breaking through, of your mother escaping death as mine did a few days back, of healing from an ailment, of a friend getting married (Chinenye on my mind here and Onyi too), of another birthday of a loved one you witness (Jennifer and many others here) or a landmark one for someone that you and family are thinking of…could be silly things that make you giggle…could be children, your children, friends or siblings or friends or a stranger…or even something as small as you having food on your table, of having somebody around you, of even knowing that even if you lose all you will still have God loving you and making all things far more beautiful than you ever know. It could be restoration of just about anything. Like that Elevation Worship song, ‘Million Miracle Miracles’, there’s so much and just so much, we cannot count them all. But it helps to concentrate on the good to appreciate the beauty that remains, no matter what. Always.
Wherever you are, whatever it is you are going through, there are miracles around you, things that if you open your heart you will see. Celebrate these and even if the sun bites some times, know that through it, we can find healing. Much as you can, be the cheer to make life smile. Be the sun to take away the dark wherever you are.
IF THE SUN WASN’T SO MEAN
If the sun wasn’t so mean
you would not know the beauty of the moon’s grin
If the day wasn’t so harshly bright
you would not consider the soothing of the night
Death stretches out to capture our pearls
to teach the adage forever sells
that you value what you have
in the finite space blessed by the one who did us all carve
The sun is mean if you miss its grin
The day is harshly bright if you forget its light
wonders and continuous wonders
that transcend the confines of our mere thoughts
Life’s lesson is best captured in its strife
Its beauty in the emptiness of its duty
To death, a deferent departure from this earth
Dawn’s fullness through a day till dusk and then morn
If the sun wasn’t so mean dear
There would be much to fear
A deathly chill – need I say the rest?
Enjoy the sun – it hurts but know through it, we are blessed.
The Nigerian Bureau of Statistics (2019) notes that at least forty per cent of Nigerians (translated to about 83 million citizens) live below the poverty line. Most of these numbers stay in rural areas. This tale of poverty seems only to get worse by the day. Indeed, the 2019 figures have currently grown due to the COVID-19 pandemic, current economic hardships, among other harsh realities of life. One of the more popular ways of trying to escape this poverty cycle for many families is migration either from rural areas to urban areas or from Nigeria to foreign countries. People are desperate and thus seek what sustenance they can to make life better. Many become house helps in the cities or try to find their way through any means possible. This narrative often ends in people being maltreated in the city or trafficked within or outside of the country. Daisy Odey in a safe underestimation of this notes in a recent Aljazeera article that beautifully captures this societal issue there are hundreds of underage girls work as domestic help in cities across Nigeria. It is the narrative of these people that Emeka Ukwuaba focuses on.
Benign Pain is a 216-paged novel set primarily in contemporary Nigeria with few scenes in America and Italy that tackles several issues majorly affecting domestic assistants or domestic helps, more commonly called (as also used in the novel), house helps. The book is a potpourri of many tales that centres on the lives of various characters trying to resuscitate dying dreams in gloomy situations. Three major characters stand out, Nebuwa, Lebechi, and Anuli, three young girls who try to wriggle their way out of poverty and find a flame to their dying dreams, mainly through being domestic assitants. Nebuwa is a village girl who goes to the city as a domestic assistant or house help as the novel puts it, to Chinwe and Kene, when her hopes of reaching great heights through education are dashed by poverty. She finds out eventually that life in the city is not always the picture of bliss painted at home. As she begins to lose her sense of humanity and dreams once more, she will have to make a decision of lasting consequences. Lebechi is another poor girl in the village who is forced to stay there after the death of her bus driver father. She gets another opportunity to get to the city as a domestic assistant to Chinwe and Kene and grabs it fast. Over there, she also experiences several indignities and decides to escape. She is then thrust into an international adventure to Italy meeting characters who are set to explot her sexually and tear the last shreds of her human dignity. The last prominent character, Anuli, seeks a better life in the home of Dike and Uloma but like Nebuwa and Lebechi, find her dreams shaken. There are also other stories of women like Alice, Ego and Nancy who undergo troubling experiences as domestic assistants, with some of them ending in tragedy.
It is not totally a tale of woe as the author shows that life can change for the better despite these travails. For instance, Nebuwa on return to the village focuses on her education with support from her elder brother. She eventually gets adopted by a kind couple too and her life’s fortune changes. In this way, Ukwuaba seems to balance his tale by showing that it is possible to be kind to people and indeed, that some people have done so. He also shows that anyone can rise from a life of poverty, pain and abuse to become successful life as noted in the life of Nebuwa. Furthermore, Lebechi who is eventually trafficked to Italy finds her way back to Nigeria and starts a new adventure in fighting against trafficking, amongst other things while becoming a successful entrepreneur.
One notices in Benign Pain a trail of dashed dreams and hollow hope for survival as characters go from one pain to the other. It exposes the reality of several domestic assistants who are maltreated and abused by their employers. The monstrosity of these employers, who in many cases are relations of these domestic assistants, leave room for concern. The book seems to paint this horrid picture as a mirror that society will look at and adjust. As noted earlier, trafficking is a strong theme that runs through the book with people – women and men – trying to exploit young women in several ways, mainly for sexual purposes.
The author shows the courage of many women who try to fan the flames of their dying dreams but often have them snuffed out by society. Despite these odds, these women’s resilience is highlighted throughout the book and will give readers cause to pause and celebrate women generally. Trafficking has a big market and a history that dates from time immemorial with a significant aspect of it being slavery. Several writers have interrogated these in their works on the Nigerian and international scene including Ifeoma Chinwuba in her Merchants of Flesh, Amira Tsasi in The Colour of Our Sky, Sophie Hayes in Trafficked and Sold by Patricia McCormick.
A key thing that stands out in the book is the author’s indirect questioning of the need for people in the village to always migrate to the city in search of better tidings. He seems to suggest villagers should employ more creativity to work out means of survival and enriching themselves. This will possibly reduce the forced migrations and exploitation of women as seen in the novel. One notes that Emeka Ukwuaba uses Benign Pain not only to expose the plight of domestic help in modern Nigeria and the atrocious plague of sex trafficking, but he also demonstrates possible ways of dealing with these societal ills. Indeed, he uses this novel to portray societal ailments hoping that readers can examine these and work towards some form of redemption.
Northwestern Nigeria is bedevilled with several challenges, most popularly, as the media shows Boko Haram. There are, however, several other challenges including issues of Water, Sanitation and Hygiene (WASH), education, health, to mention a few. Several organisations are joining forces to help tackle the issues, working with the government at the federal, state and local levels to make life better for the people in these areas. In this light, the United States Agency for International Development (USAID) launched a new project, the improved Sustainability of Integrated WASH Services (iWASH) in Abuja on the 15th of July, 2021 to support government efforts in WASH. The two-year $2 million dollar project is earmarked to help restore/rehabilitate existing water points and build new solar-powered boreholes, build toilets and hand-washing stations, and install an innovative new online remote surveillance system known as PumpView.
The idea of the project, as contained in a Press Release from USAID, is to improve water resource management, increase access to proper sanitation, and encourage good hygiene behaviors in the Northwest states of Kebbi and Sokoto. USAID’s iWASH is set to support government efforts in the pilot states in reducing water-borne diseases and in the process, improve health outcomes, reduce socio-economic challenges associated with same. This focus of the iWASH is on improving access to WASH services in health centers, schools, and underserved communities. The rest of this piece takes from the official release for the event:
According to UNICEF, fewer than 40 percent of Sokoto and Kebbi residents have access to reliable basic water and sanitation services. Up to 70,000 Nigerians die from preventable waterborne diseases a year, UNICEF reports.
In addition to promoting good watershed management, providing improved water services, the activity will market and advocate for good hygiene behaviors such as hand washing before and after eating, properly storing water, and thoroughly cleaning implements for preparing and consuming foodstuffs.
USAID is engaging the Nigerian Green Habitat Initiative (GHI) to manage a coalition of local organizations to improve access to improved water resources management and address broader social determinants for conflicts over scarce water resources. In many cases, these entities are part of the beneficiary communities and extend the reach of local WASH service providers.
iWASH will also help government institutions and communities coordinate sanitation and hygiene processes and water resources management to maintain operation and maintenance of sanitary facilities and engage the private sector through social enterprise marketing to communities vulnerable to sanitation-related diseases.
“We are happy that the new WASH program will look into cultural orientation of community members and educate them on good sanitation and hygiene practices,” Umar Bature, the Sokoto Commissioner of Water Resources said at the launch. “Sokoto will provide all the necessary support for iWASH to succeed.”
GHI’s approach to implementing the activity will include a strong focus on equality and non-discrimination to ensure women and other disadvantaged groups are given the opportunity to equally participate and make significant contributions in reaching the goal of better water and sanitation services and hygienic community behaviors in Sokoto and Kebbi, Obinna-Nnadi said.
For more information contact: Abujadoc@usaid.gov
Well done to the USAID team and we look forward to more good news like this across the country.
In the sleepy back neighbourhood of Poor in Makurdi, at the RCM Primary School, there was a lot of excitement. The teachers, pupils, and invited pupils from NKST Primary School, Yaikyor and Promise of God International, Poor waited with bated breath for the arrival of Benue State’s First Lady and Founder, Eunice Spring of Life Foundation (ESLF) H.E Dr Eunice Ortom, who was the key reader at the 6th ESLF Annual Literacy Project. The setting for the reading was under the shade of a big tree just in front of the administrative block. There were a few mats on which the children would sit, some seats for dignitaries facing them, and then other seats under a canopy for additional guests and teachers. The picture was reminiscent of a village square scene or that all-familiar background for Tales by Moonlight, the popular NTA programme that most children watched in those days. The main components of the literacy project for 2021, done in collaboration with the Benue Investment and Property Company (BIPC), was a spelling bee, a read aloud and the presentation of a cash award to Joy Abahi Amuh, the West African Senior School Certificate Examination (WASSCE) best graduating student of Benue State origin (2020).
I was previously involved in the ESLF literacy project, with my book Alom, Kpev and the Revenge Plan read at the 2019 edition. For this edition, I had come in on the invitation of the Programmes Manager, Mr Tine Agernor, and we had been running around, doing the runs to ensure everywhere was set. The previous day, I had been involved in another event for the Association of Nigerian Authors and SEVHAGE, honouring Dr Charles Iornumbe and Sam Ogabidu. That was done and I was really looking forward to this new day. I was also glad that I would be seeing the First Lady as I had not seen her since 2019, when she had been a significant presence at our Benue Book and Arts Festival, which SEVHAGE collaborated with ESLF to do, to critical acclaim. She gave us great support then and has continued to be a major patron of the arts in the state, but back to the event…
After a while, there was a rush as people went towards the entrance. The air was just right with the children buzzing with their excitement as the anchor for the event, Mr. Shima Ajikwa, a senior aide to the First Lady kept them entertained. The sounds of children singing and dancing soon filled the air as the First Lady, Dr. Ortom flanked by Barrister Alex Adum, the Group Managing Director of BIPC, arrived without much official company. She danced along to the drums and singing of the children, alongside a few dignitaries. She looked beautiful in her red-rimmed glasses, simple traditional outfit and brown-tinted braided hairdo. She sat down, and soon, the event was in full swing. We all sang the national anthem and laughed a bit at the familiar mispronunciation of some parts, which must have echoed familiar memories for the adults. Next was the rendition of the Benue State anthem, which caught me off-guard. I had no idea we had an anthem!
The headmaster of RCM, Poor, Barrister Anyila Tyolumun gave his welcome speech. He thanked the First Lady and ESLF, for promoting literacy and especially for putting their school on the map by choosing it as the venue for the read-aloud.
It was time for the first aspect, the spelling bee. I was the chief judge, alongside Caleb Anber and Nguher Hilda Igboko, both of ESLF. We had contestants from the host school, from NKST Yaikyor and from Promise of God International, Poor. I had been told to make things snappy since the event was timed. I gave my greetings in a rush and somehow forgot to particularly mention the First Lady in my greetings, a proper faux pas. [PLEASE NOTE, if you don’t already, at any function of this kind, no matter how pressed you are or anxious, it is essential to properly acknowledge key dignitaries and top government functionaries]. Well, we had fun, and I somehow felt like I was on the set of Akeelah and the Bee, that famous movie on spelling bees featuring Keke Palmer, Angela Bassett and Laurence Fishburne. In the end, RCM Poor won the competition, notwithstanding the brilliant efforts of the other contestants. It was a fun exercise that had everyone applauding.
The ESLF Programmes Manager, Tine Agernor gave a short speech and introduced the key reader, H.E Dr. Eunice Ortom. She took her place at the front of the pupils, gave an overview of the event, then spoke about the benefits of reading aloud, including developing listening skills and creating a bond between the reader and listeners. She sat down and read from the children short story, ‘The Inheritance’ by James Atoba. She gave her reading life through various voice inflexions and tried to show actions where necessary, as dictated in the book. When she was done, she moderated a question and answer session too, which engaged the pupils. It was a good one, well done and well received to generous ovation.
[Benue State First Lady, H.E Dr Eunice Ortom reading to pupils at RCM, Poor, Makurdi, Benue State – ESLF]
The BIPC GMD, Barrister Alex Adum took the floor to give his speech which emphasised some of the achievements of the BIPC and how the current event was the beginning of more projects with the ESLF. Alongside the First Lady and other dignitaries, he presented a cheque of five hundred thousand naira to Joy Abahi Amuh, who was accompanied by her parents, principal and students of her alma mater. Several people took time to get into pictures with them too, and we had loads of snapshots. When it was time for the spelling bee judges and participants to take pictures with the First Lady, I was ‘chanced’ a bit but smiled broadly for the picture. There were a few more pictures and presentation of some gifts to RCM Poor including school items and whiteboards, exercise books and a pledge to continue the facilitation of the renovation, furnishing, and perimeter fencing of the school.
We were soon done and there was the usual buzz of people trying to put in a word or two to the First Lady and other dignitaries before they left. Food was also served, creating a frenzy with some of the youth in the community who had not been actively present at the event, coming to grab a bite. We put our things together and made a few stops before arriving at the ESLF headquarters for debriefing and even more pictures. Shortly after, I had to catch a vehicle back to Abuja where I was billed as a guest reader in a special reading of my short story collection, The Bottom of another Tale for The Everyday Chapter Abuja.
Well done to the ESLF team for everything. They continue to be a champion for health, agriculture, education and literacy in the state. Well done to the team for an entertaining and motivating event. It sure was time well spent and a memory to remember. I am sure several people can’t wait for next year! Oh well, till then, you can follow up on ESLF events through their website at www.eslffoundation.org.ng.
Su’ur Su’eddie Vershima Agema is a multiple award-winning writer, former chairman of the Association of Nigerian Authors (Benue State Chapter) and CEO at SEVHAGE Literary Movement and SEVHAGE Publishers. He can be reached at eddieagema@yahoo.com. [Photos in this article are courtesy of ESLF and S. Su’eddie Vershima Agema]
This is awesome news for Niyi Osundare’s fans: he has a new book out in January 2022. Yaaaaay! Titled Green: Sighs of our Ailing Planet, the collection is an urgent collection of necessity born out of the poet’s need to speak to issues that plague the world. The overview of the book on Barnes and Noble notes that it “is a critical pastoral of poems concerning the environment aroudn the world, from place to place…a book relevant and hopeful for people to stop and reflect on the endangered beauty of all of nature.”
Concerns for nature and green advocacy are not alien to Osundare’s writings, as evidenced in one of his more popular poems ‘Ours to plough, not to plunder.’ Matter of fact, his Eye of the Earth focuses on this theme. However, there seems to be some urgency to this new writing in the midst of the growing issues around the planet on almost every sphere. Concerning this, Osundare avers that:
Of all my 20-something books of poetry, none has confronted me with a more challenging combination of urgency of content and complexity of execution than this new one. I daresay the existential imperative of its content has been responsible for the pain that came with its composition and the uneasy relief I now feel upon its completion. There is something deeply spiritual, almost religious, about the mission and the message of the poems, and the many ways they have turned out to be denizens of that vital interface between the ecological and the cosmic…
This seems like a book worth getting. You can preorder the book at Barnes and Noble to get the book as soon as it is available on January 1, 2022 or wait to get it in some store or the other close to you.
And while you are at it, let’s be kind to our earth in every way we can while being loving to those around us. Cheers!
Words emerge on my heart’s scape
the road from the mind to the hand is too far
what appears on the sheets are remnants of a feast no orderings can render:
Bald wonder of the roofed town
Basking under a heavy literary crown
I fall under the spell of all you do so well
How you take heart into your art, create universes
Then distill them into shards of many verses
You treat strangers like kin and let nothing get under your skin
Gladly would you hug pain than let a friend pick pain
I have often wondered the gain and really, sometimes, if you are insane
For your goodness goes beyond the simple, and you become the arc of our souls’ gladness
You become like Ikyarem, helping people over rivers
Like Moremi, queen in line of life’s givers
Oh, that I would sing your ballad
But how many words to string can I really add?
On this day, the sun smiles across many miles
The star shall shine from here and afar
However it goes, know we shall send acts beyond these flows
Grow on, bro, and may you experience no woe
Life will smile everyday and be worth the while.
Servio, friend and brother, may your happiness know no end.
The Pan African Writers Association (PAWA) has today released her poetry prize longlist in three categories (Arabic, English and French). The signed release by the Association’s Secretary General, Dr. Wale Okediran, shows a total of fifty-three longlisted entrants, with fifteen in each category, except for Kiswahili with eight entries.
Nigerians make up the cream of the English category with thirteen candidates out of the fifteen, leaving Sierra Leonean author, Oumar Faruk Sesay and the Kenyan, S. Haya, as the only ‘outsiders’ of the clan. The Nigerian contingent is filled with literary heavyweights of renown, most of whom have won the prestigious Association of Nigerian Authors (ANA) prizes, mainly the poetry category. Leading the way is multiple international award-winning writer and scholar, Professor of Literature, Tanure Ojaide (Commonwealth Poetry Prize 1987 and the Wole Soyinka Prize for Literature, ANA Poetry Prize Winner 1988, 1994, 2003, and 2011); former President of the Association of Nigerian Authors (ANA) and award-winning author, Denja Abdullahi; 2015 ANA Poetry Prize winner and publisher, Servio Gbadamosi; 2021 ANA Prose Fiction winner and literary promoter, Onyeka Nwelue; multiple award winning poet and dramatist, Obari Gomba (ANA Poetry Prize 2016 and 2017). The other renowned authors of the Nigerian contingent on the list are the award-winning writer and pianist, Echezonachukwu Nduka; communicator and graceful poet, Olumide Olaniyan; scholar Ndubuisi Martins; Clara Jack; Ifesinachi Nwadike; Davidson Chimezie Iwunye; Tolu Agbelusi; and Kunle Wizeman-Ajayi.
PAWA POETRY PRIZE: LONG LIST (English Category) JUDGES: Prof Kwadwo Opoku-Agyemang (Ghana); John Rusimbi (Rwanda); Dr Idris Okpanachi (Nigeria); Lillian Aujo (Uganda); Maureen Isaacson (South Africa)
1. Oumar Faruk Sesay …..Before The Twisted Rib
2. Davison Chimezie Iwunye….A Springs Of Longings
3. Echezonachukwu Nduka…. Chrysanthemum For Wide Eyed Ghosts
4. Tanure Ojaide….A Poetic Diary Of The Coronavirus Epidemic
5. Tolu Agbelusi…Locating Strong Woman
6. Kunule Wizeman-Ajayi… LOCKDOWN
7. Denja Abdullahi… The Road To Bauchi
8. Servio Gbadamosi…. Where The Light Enters You
9. Onyeka Nwelue…An Angel On The Piano
10. Olumide Olaniyan…Akimbo In Limbo
11. Ifesinachi Nwadike…How Morning Remembers The Night
12. Ndubuisi Martins… Answers Through The Bramble
13. Obari Gomba… The Lilt Of The Rebel
14. Clara Jack…The Colors Of The Lust
15. S Haya….. Forgotten Breaths
PAWA POETRY PRIZE: LONG LIST (Arabic Category)
JUDGES: Ashraf Aboul-Yazid (Egypt); Fatima Bouhraka (Morocco)
1. Abdul Monem Ramadan…..Lover
2. Azza Hussain….Train
3. Fares Kebieche….No One
4. Hamid Bakheet….Secrets
5. Mahmoud Al Absi…. Heart
6. Moftah Al Ammari… People Of The Wind
7. Nosaiba Attah Allah …Hosted by Godo
8. Youssef Lazrak….Kept In Cold Space
9. Muhammad Salem Abada…..I Made My Life Stand Up
10. Hatim In Rahal….Yawagit From Samarkand
11. Bouh In Noah…. Staying Up Late For My Gambling
12. Muhammad Kamal Al-Din…..One Day Fate Will Bring Us Together
13. Aisha Gallab…. As Tall As Waiting
14. Muhammad Najib Ali…The Cell Of The Wings
15. Bashir Dhaif Allah….SMS
PAWA POETRY PRIZE:LONG LIST ( French Category) JUDGES: Dr Alain Serge Agnessan (Ivory Coast); Eric Bekale (Gabon); Ketline Adodo (Togo)
1. Kossi Sena Adufu…Des profondeurs de la vie
2. Pere Armel Fakeye….Confidences d’un prêtre
3. Giraud Mbarca…..Inspection de trop
4. Raafat Elsenosi….Début de la Genèse des fins
5. Sékou Chérif Haidara…. Cahier de vertiges
6. Samba Ndiaye …..Les Marrons du feu
7. Sadlay Fiat Lux……Le Fantôme du Griot et les perles de sa voix
8. Fatoumata Keita….Ce n’est jamais fini
9. Rosny le sage Souaga….. Mille nuits sans aurores
10. Ernest Koffiga Kavese. … Demain, La Plenitude
11. Danielle Gonai…… Mosaique
12. Kokovi Dzifa Galley …. Vagues a lame
13. Alain Ehoussou…. L’Amour en transe
14. Sebastien Vondoly….. Les Complaintes de la terre.
15. Abdoulaye Seck….Delices de l’ame et du coeur
PAWA POETRY PRIZE: LONG LIST ( Kiswahili Category)
JUDGES: Dr Hamisi Babusa (Kenya); Ms Esther Karin Mngodo (Tanzania)
1. Abdullah Savonge….Moyo Wahemewa
2. Ali Mohammed…. Kilio Cha Sisimizi
3. Bashiru Abdallah…Wino Was Dhahabu
4. Djibril Adamu….Kipeto Cha Risala
5. Hamisi Kissamvu…Diwani Ya Mkanyaji
6. Justine Kakoko…Sauti Ya Hamasa
7. Rashid Othman Ali…Mapinduzi Ya Kalamu
8. Uledi Bryan….Mwanangu Kua Uyaone
The Short List will be out in two weeks time.
PAWA is highly indebted to the Judges for their labour of love.
It is meant to be about the four categories Arabic, Kiswahili, English and French but the English group is offering thrills with a shortlist made of five top Nigerian poets including the academic superstars, Tanure Ojaide and Obari Gomba, the pianist Eche Nduka, the graceful Olumide Olaniyan and the publisher, Servio Gbadamosi. It is a hot race for the $2000 prize in this group of death but same could be said of the other categories all in contention for their respective $2000. The Arab contenders have Abdul Monem Ramadan and Nosaiba Attah Allah, among others; the French warriors are Fatoumata Keita and Danielle Gonai; and finally the Kiswahili group have Rashid Othman Ali and Bashiru Abdallah. Of course, this is a snippet of the full tale…and we can only imagine the suspense…
They wouldn’t have too long to wait as the winners will be unveiled before the end of February.
Meanwhile, more info on the longlist and a glimpse at the profile of the shortlisted authors, amongst others can be found HERE.
Dear friends, without further ado, find following the shortlist for the inaugural PAWA Poetry Prize as released by Dr. Wale Okediran, Secretary-General of the Association.
PAWA POETRY PRIZE: SHORT LIST (Arabic Category)
JUDGES: Ashraf Aboul-Yazid (Egypt) and Fatima Bouhraka (Morocco)
1. Abdul Monem Ramadan…..Lover
2. Miftah Al – Amari… People Of The Wind
3. Nosaiba Atta Allah …Hosted by Godo
4. Mohamed Naquib Mohamed Ali…The Cell Of The Wings
PAWA POETRY PRIZE: SHORT LIST (English Category)
JUDGES: Prof Kwadwo Opoku-Agyemang (Ghana), John Rusimbi (Rwanda), Dr Idris Okpanachi (Nigeria), Lillian Aujo (Uganda) & Maureen Isaacson (South Africa)
1. Echezonachukwu Nduka…. Chrysanthemum For Wide Eyed Ghosts
2. Tanure Ojaide….A Poetic Diary Of The Coronavirus Epidemic
3. Servio Gbadamosi…. Where The Light Enters You
4. Olumide Olaniyan…Akimbo In Limbo
5. Obari Gomba… The Lilt Of The RebelSHORT LIST ( French Category)
JUDGES: Dr Alain Serge Agnessan (Ivory Coast), Eric Bekale ( Gabon), & Ketline Adodo (Togo)
1. Ernest Koffiga Kavege. … Demain, La Plenitude
2. Danielle Gonai…… Mosaique
3. Sékou Chérif Haidara, Cahier de vertiges
4. Fatoumata Keita, Ce n’est jamais fini.
5. Abdoulaye Seck: Délices de l’âme et coeur
6. Kossi Sena Adufu: Des profondeurs de la vieSHORT LIST (Kiswahili Category)
JUDGES: Dr Hamisi Babusa (Kenya) & Ms Esther Karin Mngodo (Tanzania)
1. Ali Mohammed…. Kilio Cha Sisimizi
2. Bashiru Abdallah…Wino Was Dhahabu
3. Djibril Adamu….Kipeto Cha Risala
4. Rashid Othman Ali…Mapinduzi Ya KalamuThe Judges will give us the winning List of the $2,000 per category Prizes before the end of February 2022.
PAWA is highly indebted to the Judges for their hard work and dedication.
Dr Wale Okediran
PAWA Secretary General
Well done to the POWERful PAWA.
Congratulations to the shortlisted poets and best wishes!!
Abubakar
At that moment, Mutum felt the sun’s heat like a door opened from hell. Though the breeze was meant to keep airing him as he rode, he was drenched in sweat. He had barely made a thousand Naira since morning. He knew the time had to be past noon. He subconsciously looked at his watch, an inheritance from his mother some ten years ago. The stillness of the hands of the watch that stood like an ‘I’ at six o’clock reminded him he had not saved enough to change the battery. He let out a long sigh and noticed a lady with huge buttocks furiously flagging him down. She had a child with her. He thought of her weight and the possibility of her flattening his tires. He thought of riding by but the flatness of his wallet forced his system to decelerate and glide towards her.
