When Writers Become Politicians: Wetin Man Go Do?
Adey Oyenuga
Friday, November 9, 2001
When writers become politicians
By Reuben Abati
I WAS in Port Harcourt, last weekend, to attend the annual Convention of
the Association of Nigerian Authors (ANA). ANA conventions are usually a
mix of metaphors and hyperboles, all fleshed out in practical terms by
the camaraderie of the poets, novelists, short-story writers and
dramatists
who populate the association. But this year's ANA convention was
something special. It was election year. And this probably had something
to do with
the level of attendance. In Jos, last year, and in Ilesa, two years ago,
there had been complaints about how the older writers, the big names,
were beginning to stay away from ANA conventions leaving it all to a
younger generation of angry and irreverent writers and literary
wannabes. But in
Port Harcourt, there was a good mix of the old, the greying class, and
then, the young. At least three writers attended the convention with
their babies:
Maik and Angela Nwosu came with their son, and Susan Okonkwo's son,
comfortably nestled in her mother's bosom stayed with us all through the
events even till late in the night. Then, I noticed that there was an
exponential rise in the number of those pretty ladies, authors of
tentative poems and unfinished stories on scraps of paper, whose annual
presence at
ANA conventions is both a major attraction and a source of inadmissible
delight. If you don't believe me, you may double-check with the
following
ANA patriots: webmasters: hunters of the night with knives oiled in a
bowl
of imageries and exclamations: Odia Ofeimun, Wunmi Raji, Aderemi Raji-
Oyelade, Maxim Uzoatu, Nduka Otiono etc. Well, no matter.
I arrived on Friday afternoon, somewhat late. I had already missed the
privilege of introducing Professor G. G. Darah who presented the
convention's keynote address on the subject of "Literature and the
Environment." My excuse was that nobody gave me any prior notice to that
effect, which is true. I was forgiven and for me, the convention began.
I
tell you, there was so much politics in the air you could touch it, feel
it and wonder why writers should be so involved in practical politics.
Writers write about politics. They criticize politicians and states. But
when they themselves play politics in their own organisations, they
could
be worse than the politicians on the streets of Abuja and Yenagoa. I had
hardly settled down at the Presidential Hotel, venue of the event, when
campaign managers, candidates and able-bodied men tried to capture me.
It
was as if I was in a PDP convention, or one of those problematic
Afenifere meetings. At the ANA convention, nobody talked about anything
else but the election that was scheduled for the night of Saturday. In
the last four
years, Abubakar Gimba, quiet, unassuming Gimba, currently the most
productive creative writer from Northern Nigeria, had piloted the
affairs
of the association without quarrels and ego-conflicts and
eccentricities.
It was time to elect another executive. One campaign slogan was "power
shift." This was of course invented by Odia Ofeimun, who wanted power to
shift to candidates of his own making, and he defended his choices by
sounding like a self-appointed custodian of ANA rules and conventions.
By the time I arrived, he had thrown up so much dust that the first
counsel I received was not to play Odia's politics. I listened and
quickly learnt. I learnt for example that some candidates came to the
convention with printed posters: quite a record in ANA politics. I also
learnt that some of the candidates were giving out complimentary copies
of their books and that if I stayed in the right location, I could get
plenty of free books and free bottles of beer just to encourage me. I
was also told to be careful about what I said to other people because
some of the candidates came to the convention with able-bodied men. I
found this unbelievable. But on election night, it turned out that Odia
Ofeimun and Chiedu Ezeanah almost got beaten up, in very real terms,
for opposing particular candidates. Ofeimun had to be rescued.
We had to appeal to Ezeanah to take things easy and not risk the threat
of a blow to his brilliant head which produces heavenly poetry. It was
as if all the writers had forgotten that after the election, they would
still have to write poetry and short stories. I guess all these have
something to do with the way politics is played in this country.
Politics
is an abused word in our circumstance. All the elements of Nigerian
politics were on display at the ANA convention. There was ethnicity. Oh,
of course. Then, the women ganged up under the umbrella of the Women
Writers Association of Nigeria (WRITA). They wanted their own members
to get into the ANA executive too, and they were not going to leave
anything to chances. They held caucus meetings. They campaigned openly.
I was accosted for example in the lobby of the hotel and asked to
support female candidates. They had heard that I am women-friendly, they
said,
and they wished that in their critical hour of need, I would live up to
expectation! Well, wetin man go do?
I tried to take everything in my stride. I got some free books. I drank
some beer. I touched base with the boys. "The Night Before" soon wore to
a close. Someone whispered into my ears that he had heard that some
Ghana-Must-Go bags and Diya notes would be distributed around one a.m,
and that I should try to get back to the hotel before then. I asked him
if he was sure, he said he was certain. As at that time, I didn't have
a room yet.
Hotel Presidential was fully booked. I was told that the oil company
executives in Port Harcourt always manage to get all the rooms. So, I
ran to the town in the company of Odia and someone else, mindful of the
one a.m deadline. Eventually, I checked into a suite at the Gibsco Hotel
in Rumuomasi. Now, that is one thing about Port Harcourt. I discovered
that almost every street in that town is named Rumu-something: Rumuola,
Rumuomasi, Rumurumu, Rumulala etc. I was intrigued. In my first year in
the secondary school, we were taught that the historic city of Rome was
founded by two brothers, Romus and Romulus. For a while, I had thought
that maybe those Roman brothers once passed through Port Harcourt and
then left their names behind. When it occurred to me that this may not
have been the case, I then came up with the theory that perhaps there is
so much reference to Rum in Port Harcourt because it is a Riverine city
and you know, in such places, Rum is a particularly popular drink. Well,
no matter.
I remained awake till 2 a.m. Nobody knocked on my door. I didn't see any
Ghana-Must-Go. I would have been surprised anyway. If writers had
resorted to Ghana-Must-Go to win elections, that would have been the
very limits. I just kept wondering what could have made ANA positions so
attractive that persons would go to any lengths to grab them. When I got
to the Presidential hotel, on the election day, I called my informant
aside and complained that nobody brought any Ghana-Must-Go to Gibsco
hotel. His pat response was that I stayed in the wrong hotel. "You
should
have stayed in Zurru hotel, that is where the action is. You should have
asked me." I didn't ask him. Instead, I asked Odia Ofeimun who also
stayed in Zurru hotel. Odia said he didn't see any Ghana-Must-Go bags.
The point is even if there were such bags, nobody would have taken them
to Odia. It is common knowledge that he does not like money. He also
does not like to travel by air.
The main event on Saturday was the election of new executives. This
particular event again brought out the good, the bad and the ugly sides
of
ANA. There was a long accreditation process. If you paid your
registration
fees, you were entitled to accreditation. But this created problems at
election time. Odia Ofeimun, the self-appointed interpreter of the ANA
constitution and conventions, had raised the query that there were too
many people in the hall who were at best mercenaries, carpenters and
machinists who had been drafted to the election venue, to make up the
numbers and deliver the required votes for their sponsors. This caused a
furore. The question was asked and debated: who is a member of the
Association of Nigerian Authors (ANA)? Odia argued that his position,
which he had articulated elsewhere, notably in the Glendora Review, is
that only a creative writer is fit and proper to be a member of ANA. How
about authors of books on mathematics, physics, metaphysics and so on?
He doesn't think that they should be members of ANA. In the end, the
Chief Electoral Officer, Professor Niyi Osundare, managed to resolve the
matter
by forging an emergency consensus on the side of commonsense. It was
agreed that for the purpose of the election, all the accredited persons
should be allowed to participate. Osundare had a difficult task. Surely,
it is not easy managing a group of writers who are also madmen and
specialists. One man stood up to nominate a candidate for example. He
was asked to identify himself. "I am a poet (!)" came the answer, as if
that was the name his parents gave him. But Osundare, ever so patient
and humble, managed to save the situation. For the post of President,
Elechi Amadi and Olu Obafemi had 77 votes each, Eddie Aderinokun had
20-something votes. There was a run off election and Obafemi won by a
convincing margin. The women caucus also had their way. May Nwoye
became Vice President beating Tony Afejuku clearly and roundly. Susan
Okonkwo was also appointed ex-officio member with perhaps the largest
number of votes for any individual candidate. Odia Ofeimun refused to
vote; he chose to be an observer. ANA may need to change its name! But
all the delegates were happy with the outcome. The happiest man of all
was Abubakar Gimba who had successfully handed over to another
executive.
So happy were the participants that at the dinner party that followed,
they were, quite unusually, not so interested in the winners of the
annual literary prizes. I had the honour of announcing the winner of the
maiden edition of WRITA's ZULU SOFOLA Prize, on behalf of the panel of
judges comprising Professor Biola Odejide, Dr. Nina Mba and my good
self,
but amazingly, I was asked to hurry up with my lengthy report (!). By
the
time Professor Oke tried to announce the ANA prizes, most of the writers
were in fact, already sleeping including Susan Okonkwo's son. The dinner
ended around 2.30a.m.
One other high point of the convention was the presence of leading
Ghanaian writer, Ayi Kwei Armah, author of that classic, The Beautyful
Ones Are Not Yet Born. He was a guest of honour at the dinner and
principal celebrity, thanks to the Ford Foundation who facilitated
his participation. He spoke briefly but he refused to grant press
interviews. On Sunday morning, I ran into him at the Port Harcourt
airport. He was accompanied by Toyin Adewale, one of the most promising
writers in Nigerian literature at the moment. I wanted an interview.
The man would not agree. I told him even the persons at the airport
lobby would be surprised to learn that the man sitting quietly in their
midst is the author of The Beautyful Ones Are Not Yet Born. He insisted
that he didn't want any publicity. I told him he is one of Africa's
best novelists. He answered: "Are you sure? Really? Look, it is better
we just sit down like this and discuss, I don't want any noise". Armah
was forthcoming however about reasons why he has not published any other
novels for so many years. He does not trust foreign publishers. Next
Tuesday, he would be having a press conference at the office of the
Ford Foundation. I am not too sure I would be able to attend. These
days, I have become very busy.