Saturday, January 24, 2009

Drama is the easiest way to communicate


Babafemi Adeyemi Osofisan, simply known as Femi Osofisan, was born on 16th June, 1946, in Erunwon, Ogun State. He is a playwright, poet, theater director, university professor, literary theorist, and newspaper critic. He is well known for his critique of societal problems and his use of African traditional performances and surrealism in some of his works. The schools he attended include Government College, Ibadan, University of Senegal in Dakar and the University of Ibadan. He continued post-graduate studies at the University of Ibadan and went on to hold faculty positions at the University. In this interview, he speaks about his writing career, the role of drama in mass mobilisation, etc.

NNW: You are one of the famous Nigerian writers. What is the driving force behind your achievement?

Femi Osofisan: It is always a difficult question to answer because, I think it is a combination of things that led to my being a writer. First, it has to do with the way I grew up. Having lost my father very early and my mother married to a man who travelled around very frequently, I found myself in a very unstable situation. For instance, I had my primary school in about five different towns. So it really became impossible for me to establish a root, friends or a sense of home. And I think that’s what drove me into books. And, of course, doing well in class always meant that you would be involved in play productions; end of year production, and all that. I was quite busy. But then, the company of books became really the only true company I had in my early years. Going to a very good school also contributed. My college days at the Government College Ibadan in the 1950s was quite a fulfilling experience. There were adequate learning facilities - a conducive atmosphere for learning. But being an elitist school, with many students coming from rich families, it also drove one into himself. Coming from a poor family, I experienced a sense of being an outsider, a sense of isolation. Of course, there were quite a number of us who were not really well-to-do and we tended to move together. And I think being in this company and sharing our common problems helped in building me towards writing the kind of things I now write. At the Government College Ibadan, we had a principal who was very much interested in drama. That also helped me to develop interest in it.

Going by your works so far, it appears you prefer writing plays to other genres.

Yes. I prefer plays mainly because they are more direct in their impact on the audience. It has a way of bridging the communication gap. The audience don’t have to understand the language being used to be able to comprehend the message of the play. And my major concern when I started writing was to communicate, to enlighten the people on the drift our society was going through. My period of growing up coincided with the military periods. The time I was leaving school was the time we had the first military coup, and in the next ten years we were involved in all kinds of wars and civil disorder. And then came the vast corruption of the oil boom era. All these combined to increase the misery of the poor masses. Being from a poor family myself I was conscious of the need to mobilise the people against corruption. So I felt that since the vast majority of our people do not understand English, drama would be the viable means of reaching them. However, it does not mean that I don’t write other genres. In fact, my first work was a novel. But, like I said, drama is the easiest way to communicate. Drama is the easiest means of mobilising the people.

But looking at Nigeria today, would you say the people have been mobilised by your work in the real sense of the word?

No, my work alone cannot change the society. It is just part of the general action that must be taken. I believe that everything starts in the mind. You can use force to get somebody to do something. But as soon as that force ends, you are back to square one. And, in any case, force tends to provide resistance. But if you persuade someone to do something, you don’t need to give him any weapon, he will find the weapon himself. So literature is just part of that process of building up people’s mind, of clearing the dust from their eyes. And, hopefully, through it they would be convinced to change their society. So I’m not so ambitious as to think that one single play will change things with immediate effect. When I wrote the play, Once Upon Four Robbers, against public execution, it was part of the whole process of convincing the society to desist from such practice. And eventually, it was stopped. You can’t say one particular work has done this or done that.

As the General Manager of the National Theatre, you are part of the Obasanjo administration. Do you see this as part of the cooperation between writers and the government being advocated by some critics.

I am in this government because it is a civilian administration and I think there is a possibility of changing things. You see, co-operation between the writer and the government depends on the type of government. I myself I was convinced all through the military years that there was no way we could change them. If you try to join them and say you want to change them you may end up being corrupted. So, I don’t see how you could collaborate with that kind of government. It is quite understandable that writers are becoming more and more antagonistic towards the rulers. It is because the rulers have become more and more vile, more violent against the people. The slightest amount of criticism is met with persecution. So antagonism between the writer and rulers is inevitable. And cooperation between the two parties depends on the situation; the type of government.

Poor reading culture is one of the major problems in Nigeria today. To what extent have you used your co-operation with the government to solve the problem?

First, let me point out that the problem of reading is no longer peculiar to us. The developed countries too are already having problems because of the computer and the modern audio-visual media such as the television. People can hardly spell anymore, because they don’t have to write. But our own case is more serious because we hadn’t attained any degree of literacy at all when we just jumped on the audio-visual media. I’m worried because what we gain in literature, the deep sense of contemplation, of reflection, etc., is absent from the audio-visual media. The television does not give you the time to reflect. It is a global problem and the developed countries are already carrying out programmes to see how they can encourage reading. Here we could also solve the problem through a conscious government policy. And I have been trying my best to see that the government does something. I have proposed a number of things to the government, as I had always done even before my appointment. I have proposed a national book list whereby the federal government would make provision in the budget to automatically buy specific number of books every year, and then make sure they are distributed to at least ten schools in each state. That is talking about thousands of books. If one publisher can sell that much, that publisher is in business, then the author is empowered and the books are in the libraries for reading. The cost of doing this will not be more than 10 million Naira. And when the federal government starts, the state governments can then go ahead. If this is done, we will surely revolutionalise reading in this country. But making proposal is one thing while accepting to implement it is another. It is a pity that government does not take such things as a priority. They think that physical infrastructures such as road construction are the only important aspect of development. But I think the mental development of the citizens should also go hand in hand with the physical development. Because, if you build the road and the person who is using it doesn’t even know how to use it, doesn’t have the mental capacity to use it properly, it will not last. Reading is really important and we will continue to advise tile government on what to do to promote it, hoping that they would eventually heed to the advice.

Finally, how soon do we expect another literary work from you?

With this appointment, I’m quite busy now. After leaving the job I can then get back to my normal life.


Interviewed by Sumaila Umaisha and published in the 5/1/2002 edition of New Nigerian newspapers.

Monday, January 19, 2009

Where we live (poem)

We live here
where love comes
in wrapped words
tongues mumbling
in the belly
of the words

we live in a maze
where razor-in-cheek
cutting through the heart
wastes words
on deaf-dumb...

where wounded words
seized by the jungle
in return for justice
become the ruins
of our lion appetite
living lost dreams
in prodigal measures

yes, we live
down
here…


(c) Sumaila Umaisha.

Friday, January 16, 2009

Anger is important to the writer (interview)


Born in 1947 in Ikere-Ekiti, Ondo State, NIYI OSUNDARE is a prolific poet, dramatist and literary critic. He obtained his degrees at the University of Ibadan (BA), the University of Leeds (MA) and York University, Canada (PhD, 1979). He began his teaching career at the University of Ibadan in 1974 and rose to the position of full professor there in 1989 and became Head of English (1993–1997) at the university. He then became professor of English at the University of New Orleans in 1997 and was subsequently selected university research professor there in 2001. His areas of specialization are African literature, literature of the African diaspora, literary stylistics, sociolinguistics, and creative writing. His awards include Association of Nigerian Authors’ Poetry Prize, Commonwealth Poetry Prize and Noma Award. In this interview by SUMAILA UMAISHA, he speaks about his writings, the Nigerian literary scene and the role of anger in committed writing.


NNW: Let’s start with a brief biography of yourself.
Niyi Osundare:
I am a village-born boy who happen to be a university teacher. I was born in Ikere­-Ekiti, Ekiti State, in 1947 and lived there and had my secondary school there at Amoye Grammar School. From there I went to Christ School, Edo­-Ekiti, for higher education. And then I went on to the University of Ibadan where I read English from 1969 to 1972. And in 1973 the University of Ibadan gave me a scholarship to study at the University of Leeds. I did my masters there and returned to Nigeria in 1974. And I started my teaching career at the University of Ibadan that year. Two years later the university gave me another scholarship to pursue my Ph.D. programme in the United States. I did that and returned in 1979. And I have been teaching at the University of Ibadan since then. Of course, I’ve had the occasion to go out several times. I have been out of the country for the past four years and I have just come back.


What have you been doing outside; working?


Yes, as an academic. I’ve been at the University of New Orleans, USA, for my sabbatical. Another reason why I went out has to do with a family problem. One of our children, Tola, a highly gifted girl, is deaf. And she is a fantastic artist and a very compassionate human being. My wife and I ran around from the north of this country to the south, we could not find anything for her. So we had to take her to the U.S. and now she is receiving a lot of attention.
Now, what is there to know more about me...? I am a writer. Writing for me is not just a matter of putting pen to paper. It is a passion. And I commit myself in every word I put down. Basic at the back of my mind before I sit down to write anything is the advancement of the course of justice and truth. Whether it is my poetry, plays, academic essays or the occasional articles I send to Nigerian newspapers, what is primary in my mind is how my writing will advance the course of truth and justice in our country, on our continent and in our world. I am not a prophet, I am an ordinary human being. I believe I have a lot at stake in our society as it is at the moment. And I believe I owe it as a duty to contribute something towards making it a better place. So art for me is not just a vocation, it is life.


How did it all start; I mean what inspired you into writing?


My growing up in Ikere­Ekiti gave me a very strong oral base, which subsequently inspired me into writing. In addition to being a farmer, my father was a drummer, a singer and song composer. He was also a fine conversationalist. I always liked to be in his company when he was talking with his friends. My mother was a cloth weaver and a good singer too. She also has a fantastic memory.
By the time I got to secondary school, I already had an eye on literature. My literary interest was further enhanced by the fact that the kind of secondary school I attended stressed humanities, because it was too poor to afford science laboratory. I had to study Latin, English, Yoruba, History and Geography. That was how it all started. And as for my cosmopolitan views as reflected in my works; it has to do with the nature of my place of birth. Because of the central nature of Ikere-Ekiti, we were living with diverse tribes from many parts of Nigeria. Among my play mates were Hausa, Urhobo, Ibo etc. When I grew up and saw what the politicians were doing I was shocked. Many of our people had the same background I had as a child, but they had not survived the shock. So they were sucked into that divisive system. I cannot be sucked into that system. Art for me is so important because it touches different aspects of our lives. And it is universal.


Apart from expressing universal views, your works are equally accessible. Your poetry magnifies its messages rather than obscuring them. Is this your natural style or a style adopted to suit the era in which you are writing?


Both. You know, my academic area is stylistics. First, I am always interested in the communicative bridge between the encoder and the decoder. When you have stood on the podium and talked and talked, and in the end the people asked; "What has he said," it means you haven’t communicated at all. Secondly, oral literature, which has an overwhelming influence on me, is essentially simple. They are simple but at the same time very delicate and complex. They have the transparency of a deep river. You can see the sand from feet above, but you dare not jump into it unless you know how to swim. I believe that there is nothing, no matter how complex, a good writer should not be able to say in simple words. My most difficult poems are my simple poems. I tell my creative writing students this all the time. It is not difficult to string words together. All it takes is to open a Thesaurus and start writing Gbidibility, Gidigidibility, and put them together and call them a poem. And your reader will sweat and sweat and throw the thing away and never want to read anything by you again. Not only that, they may even be discouraged from reading things by other people.
So I said let’s put it simple, straight, but let’s put it in an artistic way. I was anxious to create an audience for poetry in Nigeria. That’s why I started this poetry in newspaper in 1983. And I discovered that at the time I was doing this, the New Nigerian newspaper had a thriving poets’ corner, edited by Al-Bishak. I was collecting the poems and using them in the classroom. And, in fact, I did something on newspaper poetry in Nigeria as an academic research. So my simple style is an impulse. And finally, I believe there are so many social problems in Nigeria that need urgent attention. And writing has to be relevant in finding the solution to all those problems. You cannot solve the problems if you don’t touch the people. You cannot touch the people if you speak in the language they do not understand.


From your Songs of the Market Place published in 1983 to your Waiting Laughters published in 1999, you’ve been attacking the ills of the society. We are now in 2001; would you say your poems in these collections have made any difference in terms of changing the Nigerian society?


The question is a double-barreled gun. Let me take it barrel by barrel [laughter]. I will begin by saying yes, I’m a strong believer in the transformative power of the word. There is no religion that I have come across that hasn’t said something about the word, especially about the origin of the word and how the word has helped to transform the world. I believe writers have a role to play in society. In fact, one of the first major essays I wrote, The Writer as a Righter, is on this. And I was inspired to write that way because from my study of the history of this country and that of other parts of the world; I realized that there is no civilization that has developed without thinkers and writers taking part in it. In all traditions worldwide, the bard was regarded as a very powerful person. He composed songs and satires. And people fear satires. I remember very well, in Ikere-Ekiti where I grew up, before the coming of law courts, it was the poet that was literally the enforcer of the law; because if you committed any infraction, songs would be composed against you. The whole town would sing it. And that would force you to leave the town. Nobody will tell you to leave, shame will push you away. Our country is in a terrible state today because our people seem to have lost that sense of shame. The criminals ride to town on horse back and people clap for them. So, writing has a lot of influence on us. Writing does affect our consciousness. But when we talk about the writer, who do we really mean? I am not talking about jingoists, chauvinists or writers who put their pen where power is. And we see a lot of that happening in our country today. Quite a lot of our writers have lost their conscience and they now work in the corridors of power. Well, you may say there is nothing wrong in a writer tasting a little bit of power. But I say there is a lot wrong. Because the closer you are to power, the more complacence you become as a thinker and as a writer, the more ready you are to justify the iniquities that you would have railed against in the past. Most important, you will lose your anger. And anger is important to the writer. I’m not talking about destructive, explosive type of anger. No, I’m talking about that ability to feel compassionately for other human beings, especially for the downtrodden. To feel hungry when you see a hungry woman or man. To hear the haunting lyrics in the bowl of the beggar. To see the lice in the hair of a madman let loose in the streets. This was where we began. But now quite a number of us seem to believe it does not pay to be with the people. So you want to work in the corridors of power. This destroys the credibility of the writer and the art. And it exposes the writer to the vagaries of the powerful person. And the writer loses in the end.
No powerful person ever a trusts a writer, especially when that writer is a genuine one. From time immemorial the relationship between the emperor and the poet has always been a problematic one. The emperor wields a very large sword while the writer wields that little thing in his hand with a metal tip, the stylus. But the little pen out-lasts the sword of the tyrant and creates works and visions that out-lasts the power of the tyrant. The emperor is always conscious of this and he is always trying to do something to contain the writer. But it is the duty of the writer to back away and watch his vision.


Some people are of the view that when writers cooperate with the government in the task of nation building things would get better. But from what you have said it seems you don’t believe in that kind of cooperation.


Well, it all depends on what kind of government. The writer has no business with a dictatorial government or one who does not recognize culture, whose ideas and policies are antihuman. Because art is essentially humane. Writing which is a very important aspect of art is essential humane and humanizing. A democratic government that takes care of the interests of the people, that has vision for the people and the country, a government where leaders read books regularly; why should a writer turn his or her back on such government? I have known many leaders who are good readers. Bill Clinton, the former president of the United States, for instance; he is a constant reader. Hence, he has a wide knowledge of science, social sciences and literature. He knows the value of books. And so was the assassinated leader of Burkina Faso, Thomas Sankara. He constantly said literature and the arts should be used to transform society. That is why poor Burkina Faso has the most important film festival in Africa. It is a matter of vision. When Nkrumah came to power, he did not only support the Uhuru Dance Band and the Ramblers’ Dance Band, whenever he was going on an international tour, he took one of them with him. We are talking about leaders who know what culture is, what the power of the book is, and who knows the problems of writers. Such leaders won’t allow writers and literature to suffer. And they are not likely to put the National Theatre of their country on sale. So I will say co-operation depends on the kind of government. But basically, my own belief is that the writer has no business with a leader whose vision is anti­human. Because that kind of vision is at loggerheads with the vision of the genuine writer. And that is why several times people have come to me with political appointments and I have turned them down. To begin with, I am not looking for a job. Secondly, I have never believed that I’m not doing the right thing. I am a teacher and a writer. And I am a scholar. I am absolutely satisfied, because I believe I’m contributing something great to the development of this country. And that the other writers are also contributing something great to the development of this country. There is nothing, in my own belief, that is greater than being in the position to influence the minds of the future, to develop them in the right way. One Achebe, one Wole Soyinka, has done more for this country than a thousand presidents or Major-Generals or diplomats have done. Who remembers how many houses Shakespeare built or how powerful he was as a political figure? His works have lived after him.


How would you describe the Nigerian literary scene today?


Turbulent. Turbulent! A lot of writing is getting done by young aspiring writers. Some of them are well done, very neat. Others are just put together by roadside publishers. But the spirit inspires and impresses me. But at the same time it also disturbs me. The Nigerian literary scene should be more organized. Writers should not be as hungry as they are. When I talk about writers, I’m not just talking about poets, dramatists and novelists. I’m also talking about journalists. That wall that people often build between the so-called serious writers and the so­called journalists is an artificial wall, and a very primitive one, very unprogressive. Example abound worldwide of writers who started out as journalists. Most of our Nigerian writers are also journalists. The welfare of this people should be taken into account because they are also writers. Writing of any kind, especially if it is good, is never easy.
So the Nigerian literary scene is turbulent, as I said. And full of promise. Typically Nigerian; never saying die. But at the same time, typically Nigerian; unorganized, chaotic. I want us to take this chaos from our life and put in some order, some humane support for writers. For God’s sake, since the Association of Nigerian Authors was inaugurated in 1981 in Nsukka, we’ve been talking about not just government support for the art but public support, national support. I’m not interested in a government coming to our conference every year and saying, "I donate one million Naira". Whose money is it? It is not his money, it is our money. I’m not interested in the president saying, "Because I have woken up from the right side of my bed today, you writers take five million". That is patronizing and insulting. I’m asking for a policy not a handout. Government and the public should recognize writers and put something in place that will make it possible for them to write and create in relative comfort. Most of the works I have written in the last ten years I have had to write them abroad. The inspiration is my country but the peace of mind is not here to put it into writing. Even the current works I’m doing now in poetry, drama and essays, were done during the short time I spent in the U.S., Holland and France.
Apart from the provision of a conducive atmosphere for writers by the government, writers also need to put their house in order. The relationship between the so-called older writers and the new writers should be more cordial. This is important because we need each other. The older writers need the new writers to fire them on, to put them on their toes. And young writers need older writers to give them direction and inspiration. It is some kind of creative disagreement I want between these two, not rancour. Not the kind of insult I see on the pages of some newspapers every time.
(c) Interviewed by SUMAILA UMAISHA and published in the 24/11/2001 edition of the New Nigerian newspaper.