By Frank Opara
“Biko,
try and tone down the volume of your English next time you write for everyday
users like us, inugo?”
“Hia!
Ibiakwa! What do you mean by ‘tone down’”?
“You
are too elitist in your writing. You may not know that I have a problem with ‘big’
grammar? I can barely understand English when it is written in complicated
language.”
“It’s
alright, is that what you mean?”
“Yes,
I mean both in reading and comprehension, or are you one of those who can’t
write simple easy-to-read English for daily users like us? In fact you remind
me of one WS.”
“WS?”
“Yes,
are you his clone?” Like you’re one of his disciples, your literary patron
saint? With your scruffy beard and Afro hairstyle.”
“I’m
still lost. I’m trying to figure out who he is.”
“You
be gabi? Don’t you know WS? The artist cum activist. A genius both in art and
rebellion. His art has won him laurels and fame, while his defiance has landed
him in prison severally. He’s not afraid to be in the bad books of government.
He is, for the right reasons, anyway not known to be obsequious, because his
conscience is not for sale. He is quick to bang at the door of ruling
governments, to wake them up when they’re derailing because he is averse to bad
governance and social ill. It has been his trade mark, just like Abami Eda.”
“That’s
the name of Fela Kuti.”
“Yes,
another rebel against injustice and social ill, who joined his ancestors many
years ago with a saxophone.”
“I
learnt they were cousins.”
“So
I heard too.”
“They
both worship Ifa as their patron deity, and neither believe in the gospel of
Jesus Christ nor the revelations of Prophet Mohammed.”
“No
wonder! The ‘thing’ seems to run in their family.”
“What
runs in their family?”
“Rebellion
of course!”
“It
may interest you also to know that he founded the Sea Dogs, a.k.a ‘Pyrates Confraternity’,
that campus cult group that gave birth to other cult groups, that have become a
monster in our Universities.”
“Na
wa for you-o!”
“So,
you still don’t have a grasp of my subject matter? Are you sure you are not a
Diaspora? Even those in Diaspora know him. He basically lives in the air, flying
from one continent to another, living his God-given talent.”
“So
you don’t know who Kongi is? The only man that sports a white dome hairstyle.” You
can pick him out anywhere. You can equally identify him with his sartorial
sense, a sleeveless vest hanging over a bishop’s-collar shirt.”
“That
is Kongi’s signature, no one else! Even guys who don’t know their literature try
to read his works, just to look educated.”
“His
language when he writes is always a challenge to some of us, the low diction
quotient demography!”
“It
got worse for us after he was canonized as a Nobel Laureate. Do you find it
funny? Me I don’t – o!”
“I
first met him in my seminary days, through one of his poems ‘Telephone
Conversation’. I tactically avoided having anything to do with that poem against
my teacher’s instruction, because of the syntactic challenge I encountered.”
“I
rather study J.P Clark’s easy-to-comprehend ‘Night Fall’. In my university days
in Calabar, I was asked to study Soyinka’s ‘The man Died’, another of his
jigsaw works. In my effort to unlock the message therein, I suffered from a
‘new weave-on’ headache syndrome, as a result of the intricate strings of style
of his grammar.”
“I
had to ask figuratively who this man is writing for, the spirit world of Ifa,
Sango or ours? In fact, I deliberately chose to stand aloof, when ‘the man died’.”
“Are
you listening to me?”
“His
own version of ‘Abiku’ is equally insipid from Ola Rotimi’s. Each time I read
any of his works, which I do in order to enjoy the swag of WS readers, I am
reminded of my relatively low IQ. My ego is always badly bruised. Then, I’ll
quickly rush to take solace in Achebe. There and then, Achebe restores my
confidence with his celestial simplicity!”
“Do
you see why I asked you to ‘tone’ down the volume of your English?”
“Ndi
oke structural grammar! Biko, I’m not ready to travel that route with you guys!”
“Now
you’re with me, abi? You have a picture-view of who I’m talking about. He just
turned eighty, a couple of days ago, and his fans are celebrating him. Even
those of us who can barely comprehend his art.”
“But
why won’t you?”
“I
will personally, because I believe he touches our lives through his activism. His
daily sermon about good governance, if not for any other thing.”
“But
I expect our government to celebrate such a man of immense talent with global
recognition.”
“You
don’t seem to understand where you belong. How do you expect government to
celebrate him? He’s never a friend of government. They don’t like him.”
“Who
are ‘they’?”
“Government
of course!”
“For
he will chastise them for always conspiring to share our commonwealth. Don’t
you understand?”
“I
learnt he had so much odium for one of our dictators.”
“Absolutely!
That one that never allowed us to see his eyes. Always on dark designer goggles,
who succumbed after eating a single apple supplied by daughters of Zion. Though,
before he ate the apple, he succeeded in driving him into exile. In fact he’s
lucky to be alive today!”
“Haba!,
why do you say so?”
“The
man was a killer. There were many unaccounted political assassinations during
his rule. Nobody dared him. Even WS lost the liver to confront his evil regime.
He ran away instead because he is a staunch believer that he’ll live to fight
another day.”
“Some
of his mates did not live to fight another day sha! One of the survivors who
happens to be his kinsman, and who eventually became our President by design, was
so consumed about himself that he schemed deviously to be our Lord and Master
for eternity. But the God of the oppressed denied him that chance. May God
forgive the foolishness of man biko! Hhhhmmm, that man!”
“Do
you know he escaped death by whiskers?”
“Can
you imagine?”
“I
am telling you! Talk of wrong way to show gratitude to God almighty. Very few
God-fearing men and women would attempt that.”
“Did
I hear you say that Ogun State would have been in an endless mourning for their
illustrious sons. Absolutely! There’s God-o! It would’ve been a semi-ethnic
cleansing.”
“What
a tragedy that would’ve been!”
“But
don’t expect WS to change from his rebellious attitude, anyway. Until they get
it right. Like I told you earlier, he remains bold and courageous. He’s a
genius in rebellion. He seems to be the last man standing, among the fearless,
courageous mortals who speak truth to government eyeball-to-eyeball, and say it
as it is on our behalf. The conscience of the nation.”
“Fela,
Gani, Achebe, etc have all gone, none of whose demise can be completely
detached from government’s conspiracy. They lived part of their lives for us ‘commoners’.
You see why he stands tall in my eyes, despite his unbeknownst effort to
strangle me with his style and structure of grammar in my fledgling days to
become somebody.”
“Oburu
ogwu, ogaghi erere ya!”
I
sincerely wish him more life and laughter sha!
As
torrent of goodwill messages continue to trend
On
his birthday path, May God bless us with more WS!
Now
you know who Professor Wole Soyinka is?
Don’t
mind me, one of those my weekend musings on people and life.
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