Thursday, November 7, 2019

I owe you nothing


Did you think I'll stumble and fall?
Or lose my mind when you left me behind?
Did you think I'll cry when you kicked me outside?
I made it. What do you think now?

When I was down, did you think I will never be up ?
When you dragged my name through mad, did you forget you had one?
When the world was cold, were you the flames that warms bodies?
Or a voice that mocks tragedy ?
I made it.
what do you think now?
Have your words been sweet to me?
Has your smile been real to me?
So why are you mad when I owe you nothing?


Friday, October 25, 2019

Deadlines


 
Deadlines. They are definitely killers. Imagine the number of writers who lose their heads to them? Or the fury in the eyes of a producer when you fail to meet them? It’s either your show is cancelled or you are glued with a sign at your back which cautions everybody from offering you any gig.

In 2016, the opportunity I had been waiting for all my life was presented before me. A famous producer gave me a contract. His upcoming television series demanded so much from him that he had no choice than to employ another writer.
His show, which was supposed to be an inspiration piece, intertwined with comedy, a mystery or anything loved by his audience was not really the problem. My only concern was the fact that he had never done script banging before. You know what I mean when I say script banging. It’s when a group of writers tear apart your innocent story from overanalyzing it to the point that you finally call it their story instead of yours.

Before I began writing for him, I realized he had already written six episodes and I wondered why.  Probably he did that before finding a writer like me.  Or probably he didn’t believe I was up to the task. I assumed.

“I want you to synthesize my stories with six episodes of yours.” he said, offering an outline of some scenes he expected to see in my draft. “I don’t know how you are going to do it but I can promise you this.If you do it and I’m impressed, you will be employed full time. Get it done in a month and you will probably be working for someone else. Your faith is your hands".

The first idea I had in mind to beat his deadline was one I had while watching a video from Youtube.  “A writer is a reader and a reader is a writer”. That was what the lecturer in the video claimed. “You can’t be one and not be the other." He added.

 For me, the meaning I expatiated from this in context of the genre of writing I had specialized was the value of research to any writer.  What the producer didn’t know was I knew a lot about his themes from reading about them, from talking to people, from observing images like them and from analyzing the environment in which I lived before I had accepted the difficult journey of springing ideas on paper for him.

The second strategy I had in mind was a tip I received from my creative writing professor while on campus.  Showing me a popular award winning non-fiction book, prof said to me, “You don’t need all the facts in the world to create fiction. A writer simply is a projector of truth or something like it. Though believable, this book is an example of something like it."
It was prof who also taught me to choose the audience over a producer if I had to choose between the two. "They have the power to cancel any show, " he advised.
After two weeks of writing and rewriting , I delivered my scripts immediately to the producer.
 “ How did you do it ? “ he said with a look of excitement after reading them. I smiled.
 Deadlines, they maybe killers.  But they are definitely not going to kill me.

Thursday, October 17, 2019

Music that is mine


 
  At last, something that rings out the sorrow from my old soul
A Beethoven of nature 
A healing hymn that straightens my spine till I exhale my guilt                                  
A stroke that paralyzes my mind from reality’s truth
A builder of a universe of bliss
 A star glistening shadows of yesterday into the future
like the tantrum of an earthquake after years  of slumber  
A harmony of angelic voices raining the notes of victory from one ear to another
 A birth of rhyme and unison of perfect melody
Unite all my senses so I can comprehend how you beat diseases with beats 
 Or that magical principle you use to empower with vowels    
 Who can define you when you are synthesized by a deity?
  Be blues, be highlife.
Be any combination of notes and time
 But in all your being just don’t forget to be mine.


Footprints

Footprints, do you have any?
And who do you think is following them?
Far away I saw his but I never thought I’ll be him
But from the looks of things who else am I other than him, father?
Will my children make the right turn if it’s time?
Or will they inherent my pride and forget their kind?
What don’t they know that I should have known?
What do I know that they shouldn’t know?
Are good intentions not enough to bestow kindness?
Or is kindness just kindness?
I need some footprints
Where can I go without them?
What can I teach without them?
Footprints, tell me. Whose do you have?

Love spell broken

 
Moon, appear not this night
First let me find him a place to rest
A song to keep his memory
An embrace that will last eternally
Or at least a perspective that will strengthen me
For he is not coming back tomorrow
Neither will he come the day after
Love spell is broken! Love spell is broken.
He should have told me where he was going.
This is just a waste of emotions
You tease me then you disappear
You promise then you disappoint
How am I going to forget you if marriage is still wonderful?
How will I forget you when love is still debatable?
When they ask where forever is, what will I say to them?
Love spell is broken?
Or the joy that clothed me is finally stolen?
Tell me!
Who is the same when they are broken?
Or do you not hear my heart crying?
Come back to me. Come back to me.

love spell can't broken.
But this is.
Whever you are, be happy.
What an awkard way to celebrate victory.



Lost memories

When you were born, I saw you.
You played with fire and you feared no danger
You believed in dreams and your curiosity could not be quenched
Your smile was infectious and everyone loved your name.
How is it you know your limits before you try anything?
How is it you know the future before it begins?
Is a condition forged by man a reality declared by God?
Or can the truth be paralysed by lies over and over again?
If there is something I’m missing it must be you, my memories.
For in you I found the identity that cripples me and in you the words that uplift me.
Why don’t you take me to a time where there was no doubt?
Why don’t you remind me of what I did in the past?
For you are not just my memories
You are a compass of who I am.
Memories, I’m not losing you again.


Five-handed writer

 
 
 
Walking down a shortcut to work, I heard some children giggling. After a closer look, I saw what I could only describe as a representation yet to be actualized and a statement about a people opaque to strangers, and an argument whose conclusion could remain a statement  true to some and false to others. The children were running around without clothes and others were bathing outside like a bunch of savage creeps. And they were Africans like you and me. This sight reminded me of the unpublished image of Africa and  why writers in Africa should be part of the force that helps in ameliorating the matter.  Chinua Achebe, being a man skilled in words, thoughts and his culture unveils one of the duties of a writer as a teacher to his community. Minds in love with theories about experiential learning will eulogize his unique craftsmanship in presenting the internal monologue of his characters, the interpretations they have of the external world, the laws that rule their actions and the origin of their morality or conscience in novels like things fall apart , chike and the river and ants hills of the savannah. In things fall apart , Chinua Achebe does this concretely with humor,integrity,authenticity and completeness to a point that any reader new to African customs will inherit an african experience just from reading it.   In things fall apart , the weakness of Okokoo was not spared or hidden in the name of representing Africans as a people of strength and wisdom but exposed to draw a line of authenticity through him , making Okokoo not just an icon admired in his village but a symbol of his humanity, a character that is relatable and a personified reflections of the collective consciousness of man. Achebe's use of proverbs in this first novel of his should not only inform writers to be true to themselves but should also erode the doubts many have about the logic behind the English language and their fear of losing meaning to english readers in attempting to manipulate the language creatively to suit their context.  Like wealth, there is no need to share your meaning with everyone ; if it was so the gods will not keep secrets from man. Pardon me for injecting my nurtured proverbial instinct I have from reading too much of Chinua Achebe if you don't understand.






In Ghana we say " If you know , you know!" when a message should be obvious to someone but it isn't, meaning you are not the target recipient of the message if you don't understand. In other words, the language African writers must use in representing their culture  should maintain all it's attributes even in translation if we as writer seek to educate the youth and preserve our culture as teachers disguised in print.   Another taste of truth that elucidates the perils of choosing the denotational meaning of words over the connotation meaning in cultures when writing in English is the fact that people of different cultures never find humor in the same things. So what is the point of feeding a lion foofoo or giving a lamb pork? Questions like "Does he spoke English correctly?" by Jennifer from  the Nigeria series Jennifer Diary better characterize archetypes that Africans will find interesting and can identify to since English is not our language rather than its translation "Is he fluent in English?" imposed on the same speaker in the name of communication.  Examples of moments in things fall apart where the narrator presents an authentic African voice is when the narrator says " The child had been declared an ogbanje"Ogbanje is a word unfamiliar to people ignorant of Nigerian glossaries or vocabulary, yet it is able to function as a suspense device and positions the narrator as embedded with his native tongue.   A writer who will describe an ogbanje as a child who dies at birth but shows up again in the same womb and keeps showing up until his or her iyi-uwa is destroyed, might have given a denotation that is synonymous to ogbange but has also repositioned his narrator as someone without an African voice, Specifically Igbo voice, or someone talking to a non-Nigerian audience.  A popular proverb in things fall apart that illustrates the African voice of Chinua Achebe is "Men have learned to shoot without missing their mark and I have learned to fly without perching on a twig".  Clearly, the ambiguity of this statement is resolved in the context. And there is no need for the writer to interpret when it's meaning can be deduced by the reader unconsciously.  In anthills of the savannah, "I go cook you nice pepper soup." , '"I beg make you no flash light for my eye." are examples of expressions  and voices whose humor might have been diluted  had they been translated in the English language thoroughly. This brings me to a language we all use that demonstrates the value in miscommunicating while communicating to our target audience . A lot of people still struggle with some of its acronyms and abbreviations when they find themselves in new groups. I'm talking about social media.  Social media didn't just shape how we communicate; it also shaped the roles of writers in  the modern world. Imagine being on a platform full of different voices , circumscribed by a million strings of arguments, a thousand opinions without merit and lies colored as truth or truth hidden in the silence because of its unpopularity or the screams of rumors.  It can be daunting piercing your writing pen through this  but if the pen is mighter than the sword it's not because it's sharp. It's because it can control the minds of anyone if used skillfully. Writers are leaders whose opinions still guide us here whether they are alive or dead. The trouble with Nigeria according to Achebe is not the lack of resources but specifically how the country is governed. This statement he made was like a thought dropped in the minds of students by a teacher or a rebuttal to those who believe the resources in Nigeria were not enough per the population. Striking a cord like this to ignite minds of individuals  with the intellect, talent or capability to impact the economy positively is a mark of great leadership that the modern writer must earn to command his community , be it on social media , in his country, wherever he or she finds himself. For influence is not just about being a true member of your community but also having something to say especially when dilemma paralyzis reason and action. 






The stories writers tell ought to function as a pool full of ideas in the consciousness or memory of the reader, supplying him or her thoughts beyond their usual cognitive abilities, crystallized as bombs waiting for the right situation or problem to explode freely, saying " At last You've found something to do with me other than keeping me in your memory since you read me."  Since the quality of actions depends on the mind that invented them , the researcher's hat of every writer ought to be on his or her head before thinking to avoid bad writing. Impersonating Chinua Achebe , he would have backed this by saying, "The world is like a mask dancing. If you want to see it well, you don't stand in one place." Put on your hat . Talk to somebody about Africa, talk to someone about your subject matter, travel, jump into a snake hole . Find out what's in it. Learn some dance moves you only see. Put your arrogance in your pocket and act ignorant like a true student of philosophy. You will be amazed at what you will find. Who knows ? Your look might be the new fashion trend . Everyone might just be wearing that hat of yours in search of your thoughts to help them . Your concern should then be how to keep your  writing license after . Whether you are shaming your government or some people, or reminding the world of values forgotten  , without a hat what do you know ?    The writer as a guide instead of a dictator  One of the challenges most journalist face as narrators is telling a story from the point of view of their subject in words that telepathize their mood or emotions, answer questions the audience might have about them and express their state of mind objectively without exaggerating their world view or sensationalizing their narratives. Interpreters or words that suggest subjectivity or speculations should be carefully stated as such in reminding the audience of the biases that might hinder the path they travel from their present state of consciousness to a past presented to them by the subject or the journalist. Obviously, writers might fail in executing this if they are unaware of how their own knowledge of the subject   shapes their narratives or how the structure of a text suggests meaning. Hence showing how events unfold and enlisting the actions of characters in quotations and directness pops his head out as a way forward in striving to overcome this rather than engaging in arguments about misrepresentation and representations.  Chinua's quote about Art being a constant effort of man in creating a reality from that which is given to him also shoots out from behind. But if we as African writers seek to validate ourselves as a people of greatness and children bestowed on earth by a deity that exist and partakes in our affairs,  then there must  be a reality that we envision as true and real to all of us , not some of us in the first place. No wonder Chinua portrays the beliefs of Okonkoo and his people as a reality shared collectively by all members of the village before the perspective introduced by the missionaries confused  the hearts of some of them . The existence of these gods was not totally undermined by them even after. Thus, the reader can deduce from the text that the superstitious nature of the people was not as a result of foolishness but justified by past warnings from their gods.
Thus placing two pens in the hand of Achebe, one for writing arguments against Christianity and the other for writing arguments against worshipping other gods, establishing his narrative as one of an objective nature.   In other words, it's not about who represents the culture of our people since some writers are skilled at the task yet lack the knowledge in doing it and there are those who know the culture yet lack that know-how in representing them. It's about how the narrative is presented .  In Chinua Achebe Anthills of Savannah, the novel is dialogue driven and arguments on both sides of the truth had been given a fair hearing before the readers. The verdict is then up to the reader. This puts the interpreting lens in the hand of the reader and not the writer.  With this in mind, you will agree with me when I say any writer with a good understanding of linguistics , logic and talented deserves the license to represent a people he knows nothing about provided he can use techniques like the one used by Chinua Achebe in structuring his narratives objectively. His only milestone in this sense will be contextualizing the events and actions with it's ambiguities without using interpreters or descriptors that function as interpreters and learning about the language of the people.  
 I would like to conclude by summarizing the roles of a modern writer as a man with five hands. One for teaching his past and projecting a possible future , the second for representing meaning and himself authentically, another for moderating arguments and planting good ideas while directing thinking, the last two for shaping narratives and representing knowledge or perserving them. The hope of Africa is in how we represent our selves and our knowledge. Not the man who knows of them . For he can only know that which you show him and never the meaning conceded in them. And if knowledge is recycled for the better so must some of our primitive customs if they are counter productive per our vision. Publish Africa today in what you do. The world is waiting to see if what they have heard of it is true.

The Lady in Rhombus Necklace

Finding your soul mate can seem like a task only possible in another life time , especially if you r heart is broken and there are triggers ...