For a couple of weeks now, excerpts from Chinua Achebe’s latest book, There was a Country, has sparked controversy and mass hysteria on the two sides of the Nigerian divide, so to say. It’s most amusing people claim Achebe spoke the truth or didn’t, when, interestingly, they haven’t even read the book.
Given the din, one would think Achebe’s subject matter was solely Obafemi Awolowo. The book is far much more. Those who say the book should be banned are uncharitable; Achebe should not be denied the right to express his opinion. They can argue that the mind that suffered is not one to write “truth” but Achebe sure has the right to express himself.
As a literary work, this book is less delightful than previous ones, like The Education of a British-Protected Child, and it says, particularly in Part one, nothing new; Parts two and three are his touching war experience; Part four is recommendation for a better Nigeria.
But the book’s subtext makes me ask, Who did Achebe write for? A foreign audience? To say, “see what Nigeria did to poor Igbo”? Or is he simply an old man reminiscing about the past and showing us traps to avoid?
If the answer is the former, then you can tell why this book fits into a shrewd narrative: the story of Igbo exceptionalism; a people whose culture gave them an advantage unlike the Hausa/ Fulani who were hindered by “a wary religion” and Yoruba who were “hampered by traditional hierarchies” and “although the Yoruba had a huge historical and geographical head start, the Igbo wiped out their handicap in one fantastic burst of energy in the 20 years between 1930 and 1950.”
The rest of Nigeria became uncomfortable with Igbo and war (and genocide) became a weapon of containment because had “the Igbo been a minor ethnic group of a few hundred thousand their menace might have been easily and quietly contained.” The third part of this narrative is that Nigeria’s problem is a consequence of her failure to reintegrate the Igbo.
Achebe also, once again, brings up the issue of “everyone hates Igbos” and it made me wonder if it is a reality, myth, or a mere paranoia? He, regrettably, doesn’t do justice to this and that’s just one of the issues I have with the book; it glosses over serious things.
But if this book is meant to contribute to Nigeria’s progress, then Achebe should have avoided the massive distraction that heralded it with a more prudent rhetoric. I am not under the impression Awolowo was a saint but saying he organised a genocide for the sake of his inordinate ambitions and his aspirations for his “Yoruba people” is a grievous allegation. Surely, Achebe didn’t expect “Yoruba people” to roll over and play dead? I believe the debate would have been totally different if he had said Awolowo ordered a blockade because he was godless.
Achebe started on the wrong foot by putting people who would have joined the dialogue more constructively on the defensive. There is a reason Yoruba people say words are like eggs.
Those who criticise Yorubas’ defence of Awolowo, that they act as if Awolowo could do no wrong miss the point. You do not go among Hindus, call Mahatma Ghandi a racist and Indian supremacist and then expect a meaningful dispassionate dialogue on Satyagraha; unless of course your intention is to provoke them in the first place. This book, in short, fails the Rotary four-way Test of Truth.
Achebe, however, succeeds in unearthing latent rage such as the “Northern” response by Ibraheem Waziri and a “South-Western” riposte from Ayo Turton. At a point I wondered — considering that the paragraph about Awolowo is towards the end of the book — if the publishers didn’t push that excerpt out to generate controversy and consequently, boost sales.
I wrote several questions in my copy of the book, on aspects I found frustratingly inconclusive. One, if Awolowo wanted to annihilate the Igbo because of their domination, why didn’t he simply encourage the secession? Why did he plead with Chukwuemeka Odumegwu-Ojukwu not to leave Nigeria? If it’s true Awolowo saw Igbo as an impediment, why do they say he said if the East was allowed to secede, the West would leave as well? Should he not have jumped at an opportunity to allow Igbo go and in which case, Nigeria would have “justifiably” seized all the money and property which the Igbo had acquired in Lagos, for instance, and which made Yoruba ‘jealous’ in the first place? In which case, no one would have worried about giving 20 pounds to anyone? I don’t quite understand the logic.
Achebe admitted that the people Awolowo and co met in the East were “leaders of an emotionally and psychologically exhausted and disillusioned Igbo people. Many of these same Igbo leaders had been at the vanguard of independence struggles, and after years of spearheading the ‘One Nigeria’ mantra, had very little to show for it”. Could their recalcitrance be only a matter of weariness or they wanted to start their own country? Both sides could have sought a mediator (but hindsight is always 20/20).
Two, what sense did it make that Ojukwu rejected Nigeria’s chance, as claimed by Awolowo, to allow food to Biafra –because like Achebe says, there were fears it could have been poisoned- when the children were already dying of kwashiorkor? It was a 50/50 chance either way.
Achebe claimed Gen. Yakubu Gowon opened this land corridor, not out of a Christian heart, but because of the international embarrassment that attended the blockade. I don’t intend to sound naïve but if Gowon could be shamed into action, would he have incurred international rage by poisoning Biafran children? Let’s not forget, the relief materials were coming from international agencies, not Nigeria.
I believe the complexity of the war is more than what can be so reduced, packed into a shoebox and conveniently placed on Awolowo’s memory. There is enough blame to go round everyone rather than opening up “truths” we cannot handle. I praise the Igbo associations in Lagos who issued a press release to attenuate the diplomatic crisis. Yoruba are moderate people, who, I do not expect, will ever go round threatening Igbo in Lagos over Achebe’s book but then, big fires have been started by smaller sparks in the past.
Adunni Adelakun
via Punch
