Cherry Blossom – A Collage by Othy
Arunsi Othniel Fortune, better known as Othy, has put out a collage of poems called Cherry Blossom. It is a beautiful piece of literary expression that, as Abdulquadri Saka-Bolanta describes, “explores some generic human emotions in popular circumstances such as denial; largely as experienced by the author, some of which you might easily relate to and others you might not.” We are proud to share his work with you. Download Cherry Blossom here.
Pay That Money
Image: The Guardian Nigeria I am constantly seeing people rant on social media about the debtors in their lives. It is so common place that I don’t think one week goes by without one person or the other getting called out for owing money. And today… I am joining in to call out these debtors. I remember a while back when I started a new job after a long break from paid employment. I was excited about the new opportunity and was extremely grateful to be earning a salary again. I had a couple of reasons why working again was really important to me. As mentioned, I had worked before. But a combination of a medical emergency, house rent (and setting up said house), gifts to family and friends, and a very unhealthy spendthrift habit meant that when I was out of work, I had almost no money saved. I kept playing in my head how I had been so horrible with my finances and the more I thought about it, the more I beat myself up. Things got so bad that I could barely afford my necessities. And I couldn’t ask my parents or siblings for money because…ego. It got so bad that one day, I broke down while having a conversation with one of my friends. He saw how sullen I had become and proceeded to send me some money ‘to cheer me up’. Now, anyone who knows me knows that I loathe to collect money from anyone and very few things break my spirit like being dependent on anyone for my money. So when I got the job, I decided to be very deliberate with how I was going to spend my money. I didn’t want to ever be in a place where I had to depend on anyone for money; never again. On my very first pay day with the organization, I looked at my bank alert…thankful to be earning again and ready to honor my promise to myself and my future. Not up to a minute after I got my pay, a ‘friend’ sent me a message: he was going through some financial crisis and needed some money quickly. I looked at the message and thought of how many times he had come through for me in the past; and vice versa. One time, I had borrowed money when I needed to travel because I couldn’t withdraw. The plan was to pay back when I got to my destination; which is what I did the next day. We basically had that rhythm where we helped each other out all the time. Which is why, even though it was not part of my plan, and it was way more money than I had given anyone before, I didn’t think twice about sending the money. I asked when I would get the money back, to which he responded ‘at the end of the month’…a couple of days away. ‘End of the month’ became two months. Remember when I mentioned that I hated asking for money? Well…it is even worse when it came to asking for my own money. I had to steel myself to call the guy and remind him that he had to pay me my money. I went further to apologize a couple of times for asking for it and was all too eager to get off the phone when he assured me he was sending the money to me shortly. ‘Shortly’ became another month. By this point, the first stages of anger had begun to rear its head. I sent him an instant message reminding him again to send me my money. I told him that if it was any other person, I would have cut them off with the quickness. I told him I was disappointed that he did not respect our friendship enough to not lie to me and that I wish I never gave him the money in the first place. The guy said he had sent it and I was like, what? When? He quickly said he was going to check and see what went wrong. And by god, I believed him. He sent a message again telling me that his transfer had failed and that he had not known. Then he effusively apologized and told me he was sending the money immediately. Then he began to regale me with stories about how much financial problems he had been on in the last couple of months. I explained that I understood his plight, but it would have made sense if he explained to me that he couldn’t pay rather than stay quiet about it. Again, he apologized and promised I would get the money in less than an hour. Another two months passed. This time, I was pissed the hell off. I asked him to send me my money immediately. He didn’t even bother to respond this time. I called, he didn’t pick up. I sent messages and was left on ‘read’. Out of frustration, I sent a message saying that I wasn’t going to ask him for the money again and I was done with him. But I wasn’t really done. I was angry; furious! But most of all, I was hurt! It felt like he had played me for a fool. It felt that he deliberately swindled me of my money when he had no intention of paying. It felt like he knew I was uncomfortable asking for money, so he took advantage of my discomfort to take my hard-earned money. The more I thought about it, the angrier I became. I told my friends and siblings about the situation and many of them were of the opinion that I should publicly call him out and shame him into paying the money. I can’t say I was not tempted to do so, but the better part of me prevailed. If I embarrassed him, there would be no coming back from that. If I shamed him and he
Overcoming Low Self-Esteem by Gima Okhiulu
Gima Okhiulu delivering her speech at the Half the Sky Speech Contest in Akure, Ondo State. We attended Half the Sky, a speech contest commemorating the International Day of the Girl Child in Akure, Ondo State, and it was at this event that we met GimaOkhiulu, a student from the Evangelical Church Winning All (ECWA) Group of Schools in the State. Gima was amazing with her storytelling, linking each of her points to the next in a way that just made you stay glued to what she was saying. And because of how well she delivered her speech, we gave her a cash price and promised her a spot on the blog for any article of her choice. Here is Gima’s piece on her struggles with low self-esteem. Low self-esteem is like a silent destiny killer in the lives of growing kids, especially girls. A lot of unfulfilled destinies can be attributed to this ‘plague’. With a low self-esteem, a person sees themselves as useless, unappreciated and if you may, ‘down the ladder’. It is a state of strongly believing that others are better than you. It is a false sense of believing that nothing good will come out of whatever you do… a Siamese twin to hopelessness. I’ve had to deal with serious low self-esteem, varying from feeling unimportant and useless, to feeling like I was born stupid and back to feeling useless and hated. Although, this was hidden from my parents, it wasn’t from my older brother – Remen – who was the only person I occasionally opened to and God, whom I prayed to about it sometimes. And even though my parents didn’t know about my struggles, my dad and Remen were constantly trying to boost my self-esteem and my mum was my spiritual backup. And yes… God helped me too! Since I’ve been dealing with this, I feel like it is my duty to encourage people in similar situations. Low self-esteem starts when you start comparing yourself to other people and viewing them as being better than you. Like Remen said, ‘Everyone has their own star and their different ways of shinning.’ If you compare yourself to other people, you will blind yourself to seeing how important you are and your mind will begin to focus on what it may have convinced you is your ‘uselessness’. Like I said earlier, I had always thought I was born stupid, one reason being because my parents are really smart. Some things I found hard to do, my younger brother would just do like it was nothing. I would be like ‘Gima, you’re such a dumbass!‘ But lately, with the help of Remen, I recognized that I am actually sharp when it comes to making accurate calculations; sometimes looking like I prophesied it. The reason most of us feel like we’re not smart enough is that we are not looking at the bright side; we are too focused on the negatives. Also I felt unimportant because many times, I felt denied of what I wanted and it seemed like my sister always got what she wanted. Eventually, I discovered that there was always something I really liked that was kept for me. Thinking my sister got everything and I didn’t affected me because I was negative, which is why I now believe that another way to get over low self-esteem is to be positive. The last and best option is to go to God in prayer. This was the most effective method that worked for me.
Girls Hold Up Half the Sky
Participants at the Speech Contest I have been volunteering with Sow Purpose Initiativesince 2017. At that time, it was called SOW Foundation and the general mandate was to empower young (and vulnerable) women and girls by reaffirming their worth, addressing societal bias that keep these women and girls struggling to catch up with men and boys in this century, and promoting a culture of excellence for them. When the founder, Dr. Victoria Kumekor, reached out to me in 2017 to give a talk to the girls about body positivity, I was excited to do it. A number of students were chosen from different schools in Zaria, Kaduna State, Nigeria, for the pilot event. It was a beautiful event where we got to bond with students from different backgrounds and ideologies. I knew that I was invited to teach the girls, but it really was a give-and-take session; I learned so much from our interaction. Seeing how much we inspired these young women, I decided that I would continue to volunteer with the Initiative as long as I was required to. So when Dr. Victoria, or as I call her – Vick, reached out to me to talk about the event planned for this year, I knew that I was going to make myself available. While the first two sessions had happened in Zaria, this one was going to happen in Akure, Ondo State. I remember when I saw the theme for this year’s event; ‘Half The Sky’. I wondered what it was about and asked Victoria to explain. She sent me the working document for the event. When I finally understood what she meant, I was even more excited. But more than that, I was pumped that the format for this year’s event was a little different from the previous two. SOW Purpose Initiative was going to organize workshops on educating girls and discussions on equality in the different schools they had reached out to, with a speech contest by representatives of each school serving as the culmination of these workshops. These workshops were meant to dispel myth and misconceptions about the place of girls and women in the home, their immediate community and the world at large. After months of planning, the events began to draw near. The team started with workshops in each of the schools and on October 12, 2019, the speech contest was held in commemoration of the International Day for the Girl Child. The workshops were eye opening…but not as shocking as I would have expected. I think I am now jaded but that is a conversation for another day. When the conversations started with the students in their schools, two major talking points were focused on; 1. Career choices the students felt were off-limit to girls; and 2. Their thoughts on basic equality, human respect and rights. Photos from the Workshop Most of the students – and it begs to be emphasized that this includes male and female students – believed that girls shouldn’t be in engineering, construction, mining, carpentry, politics, professional driving (and they didn’t mean Formula 1), and a couple of other supposedly male dominated careers. They all agreed that these jobs were ‘inappropriate’ for women and girls as they were not ‘strong enough’. In similar fashion, when asked if girls should be respected the same way boys are, there was a resounding ‘no’. The reasons were many: ‘Girls were made to serve boys by God’, ‘Boys are more special than girls’, ‘Boys are physically stronger than girls’, ‘Girls are incompetent’, ‘If given same level of respect girls tend to misuse it’ and the ever present and usually unsurprising, ‘Girls are not equal to boys’. They were literally parroting what the greater society thought and felt towards women and girls. But as unsurprising as it all was, I was still sad that at their young ages, they already had these beliefs that seemed so set in stone. Could we really change their views? Not to be daunted, the Initiative explained why these postulations were untrue and why it was of utmost importance that these students unlearn the things they held as truths. Each of the schools were then tasked with presenting one boy and one girl who would speak about girls holding up half the sky at the speech contest. The day finally arrived. As the students began to trickle into the venue of the event, I wondered what I was going to be hearing from them. I was to serve as a judge for the contest and I think I was probably more nervous than the students. I am very easy to read, and I needed to get my poker face on. Soon enough, we were good to go. The Judges. From left to right: Mr. Eze Chinedu, Dr. Oguntade Funmilayo and Ramatu Ada Ochekliye (me). It was interesting hearing the students speak about the topic. With many of the boys and girls, you could tell they were just going through the motions. With others, their belief shone through. Two girls in particular caught my interest; Okhiulu Gima from Evangelical Church Winning All (ECWA) Group of Schools and Nancy Orisamolor from Becky Parker School, both in Akure. Gima was amazing with her storytelling, linking each of her points to the next in a way that just made you stay glued to what she was saying. It is important that I mention that she was soft-spoken; something that could have worked against her as most of the other students were boisterous. But her cool and calm, coupled with her storytelling technique, kept me rivetted. Nancy on the other hand brought her points home. While most of the other speakers were mentioning Malala Yousafzai – I mean, everyone mentioned her! – Nancy led by sharing the work of Becky Anyanwu-Akeredolu: an aquaculture farmer; proponent for early detection of, and curing cancer; and First Lady of Ondo State. Nancy mentioned other women who were Nigerian, before she spread out to
I Have an Idea About Prison(er) Reforms
Image: New Stage We have all heard the stories of prisons in Nigeria; dinghy, overcrowded, desperately inhumane and busting at the seams with more people awaiting trial than convicted felons. Personally, I have not seen any of it. The closest I have been to a prison was sometime in 2003 when I stumbled onto the grounds of the one in Ungwan Sunday, Kaduna State, because I thought there was a masquerade parade going on there. Yes; weird story. And no matter how I explain it, it is still weird, so…let me just skip that. What I would never forget were the shouts from men calling me to come back. I didn’t understand what the fuss was about and so, didn’t respond. In my defense, I didn’t know it was a prison either. I kept on going in until I met a warden who said, ‘young girl, go back. Or… do you want to be raped?’ I didn’t need anyone to tell me to turn back at that point. But, I digress. As I was saying, I have never seen the insides of any prison in this country. But I have heard the stories. The first one that comes to mind is the juvenile prison (Borstal) in Kaduna State. A classmate who had been so… ‘stubborn’… was sent to one. Before this happened, he had become a bit of a terror to the school and neighboring communities. He fought people, beat up others, threatened to abuse girls and was generally feared. Even though I feared him too, we were cool. (Not surprising anyway. I gravitated to all the ‘bad kids’ when I was younger. Can you guess why?) Anyway, teachers who punished him in school would watch him laugh in that menacing way that foretold doom and you could bet that they would almost always get attacked on their way home. He was threatened with being locked up in Borstal, an institution whose reputation preceded it. The sound of that name (even today) sends an involuntary shudder down my spine. He, however, couldn’t be bothered. When he was finally sentenced to time at the facility, there was palpable fear among the rest of us and the stories were used to scare us into behaving better. Years later when I finally saw that classmate and was contemplating whether to take a detour or not, he caught my eye and the option was made for me. We got talking and I saw that he was such a changed young man. It almost felt like he had been replaced by aliens. My fear for the institution deepened. Side note: He is a warden at the institution now. Also, not surprising. Then I heard about the ‘world famous’ Kirikiri prison; more like read about it. The instances of abuses I read about shocked my young mind. I couldn’t wrap my head around such cruelty. It is said that people go to Kirikiri to become even more hardened criminals. Imagine a correctional facility that makes people worse than they were when they went in. Which brings me to this question: are Nigerian prisons correctional or punishment facilities? In my opinion, the latter. Technically, prison sentences should serve as punishment for crimes committed against individuals, a group (or groups) of people or the State defining the crime according to the law. But, prison sentences should not just be about punishing individuals; it should also be about reforming them. I think this should be the biggest reason why prisons exist. In Nigeria, I cannot say for certain how much reformation is happening in the prisons. This is not to negate the work of non-governmental or not-for-profit organizations aimed at reforming prisoners. For the sake of this article, I am focusing on the role of the government in correcting and reintegrating former felons into society. Reading about the history of Nigerian prisons, you would see that before 1968, Nigerian prisons weren’t always this punishment-only centers they are today. Yes, when the idea of having justice systems made up of the police, courts and finally prisons was first established around 1861, they served mainly to please the colonial masters and their interests. There wasn’t much regard for Nigerian lives and, why would there have been? We were a slave territory and the ‘masters’ had all the power. But between 1934 and 1955, two men – Colonel V. L. Mabb and R. H. Dolan – brought about a new order to the way prisons in Nigeria were run. Dolan was especially instrumental in putting up structures that recognized that prisons needed to be as much about correcting and reintegrating individuals into society as they were about punishing them for their crimes. Here is an excerpt about Dolan’s work as found on the Nigerian Prisons website. ‘He also made classification of prisoners mandatory in all prisons and went on to introduce visits by relations to inmates. He also introduced progressive earning schemes for long term first offenders. He also introduced moral and adult education classes to be handled by competent Ministers and teachers for both Christian and Islamic education. Programmes for recreation and relaxation of prisoners were introduced during his tenure as well as the formation of an association for the care and rehabilitation of discharged prisoners. But above all, he initiated a programme for the construction and expansion of even bigger convict prisons to enhance the proper classification and accommodation of prisoners.’ Dolan had the right idea, which is similar to the one that I have. So, let get to it. The official national prison population in Nigeria is 73,995 people. If I know anything about statistics and data in Nigeria, then this figure is the most conservative figure the government could put out without looking bad. Which means that there are way more people in Nigerian prisons than the government is letting on. This has been corroborated by many sources who report cases of overcrowding in the prisons, with facilities stretched far beyond the numbers they were created for. Take Kirikiri prison for example. Its capacity is built for 1,056 inmates. As at March 2018,
(Mis)Diagnosing Depression
Photo by Ian Espinosa on Unsplash I was at a literary event recently when the conversation swung to depression. It started when a man presented a poem about this state of mental health and suggested that ‘a smile, a hug, and some love’ could get people out of their depressed state. For the most part, the poem resonated with people because it was relatively well written and delivered, and being a sensitive topic, people could relate; or so I assumed. While I was processing the words of poem, someone mention that it was important to note that depression was not ‘having a couple of bad days or being sad. It is a clinically diagnosed illness and must be treated that way.’ In the past, I would have nodded my head in agreement. I understood the sentiment and the need to be sure that people weren’t misdiagnosing depression when in the real sense, they were briefly unhappy or in a funk. But, my idea about depression changed a while back. Before I get into what caused the switch, let me share a train of thought that I followed through as I listened to the debate. Have you ever had a blinding headache? Those things can be the worst! You can’t think, you can’t sleep, you can’t eat, you think you head is about ready to split, and if it is really bad, you are almost crippled from the pain. When you go to the hospital, the doctor may diagnose a headache, migraine or something worse. In essence, the doctor is affirming what you already feel. You know the intricacies of the pain you are feeling. What the doctor does is to give you a ‘fancy’ name for what you are dealing with, and hopefully, a medical solution. So, let us say that you don’t go to the doctor. Do you still have the symptoms? Yes. Can you tell that you are in great pain? Yes. Do you know that something is wrong with you? Yes. What you may not know is the technical term for what you are going through, but you knowthat something is wrong. In some cases, you know that if you can just sleep, you may be better for a bit. In other instances, you know that seeing a medical personnel and taking some drugs can help you get better. And while you may want to take that option, you know that sometimes, there are a number of factors that may prevent you from seeking that help. So, you sleep. Or eat. Or rest. Or just lie down because you know that it would get better…until the next bout comes up. In this case, does the absence of a medical diagnosis negate the existence of your headache? I think the answer is no. The same is true for depression. People who are suffering from depression know that there is something wrong with them. They knowthat the gnawing emptiness they are feeling is a symptom of something bad. They understand that those panic attacks are not normal. They realize that their appetite – whether they are eating very little of way too much – is a sign of something troubling. They wish they didn’t have to sleep so little…or so much. They get that their complete lack of desire for anything, and sometimes, their only desire which seeks to end it all, is a product of a situation that is…bad. They know this. They also know about the days when pretending to be fine is the wall they need when their entire essence is crumbling apart. They understand the need to reach out, and the countering need not to be a burden. They can taste the fear of not knowing whether they would be understood or dismissed, or the hope that someone would see through their façade and help them. They also remember all the times when the voices in their head tells them, ‘didn’t I tell you? Nobody cares about you.’ They know this. What they may not know is the fancy name for what they are feeling. A little over six years ago, I began to feel sad and unhappy about my life. I didn’t seem to be making much progress for the timelines I set for myself and I started having this feeling that I was failing at this thing called life. It was a gnawing feeling that seemed to be here today and gone the next. However, I noticed that, with each session, the sadness seemed to take deeper roots. It felt like I was in quick sand and while I was only ankle deep, I couldn’t get out. As the years wore on, I continued to descend into the abyss until it got to a head a little over two years ago. I lost my mind. I started having repeated panic attacks, and once, when I could feel my heart closing up and my lungs refusing to draw in enough air, I thought I had come to the end of the road. When it passed, I felt empty. For one week afterwards, I didn’t have a shower. My bedroom was a dumpster; filled with plates from days before, wraps from junk food, bottles and clothes strewn everywhere. I was listless and couldn’t feel anything beyond the overwhelming emptiness of what was my life. I was depressed. And guess what? It started with a couple of days of sadness. It started with some unhappiness. It started with days when I was in a funk. Which is why when people say, ‘depression is not having a couple of sad days and being unhappy’, I shake my head. Only a person having those feelings can tell you what they are feeling. Only a person having those feelings can tell you how deeply lost they think they are. Image from Twitter It is important to note that people who are depressed do not share the extent of their listlessness with other; one, because explaining it is hard, and two because, there is
BMI, Beauty Standards and Fat Shaming
Girl working Out.Image: Health Magazine I have a problem with Body Mass Index (BMI) as a measurement of health. Almost everyone has heard the acronym; BMI. And while many have an idea what it is, let me start my arguments – and yes, they are arguments – with the definition of the term. ‘BMI is a person’s weight in kilograms (kg) divided by his or her height in meters squared.’ This is one way to define it. Simple, huh? But don’t be fooled. This seemingly simple definition is anything but. However, this isn’t the time to jump the gun. So let me layer on the science of it. BMI can also be calculated using other variables like pounds (instead of kilogram) and with some calculators, it can be computed using feet and inches instead of meters. The main components are weight and height. For the purposes of this article, I will use kilogram to meters (or feet and inches) for my measurements. Let us get into it, shall we? For a little over a hundred years, BMI has been used as the standard of body measurement since Adolphe Quetelet, the Belgian Mathematician, Astronomer and Statistician, developed the unit of measurement. It seeks to measure whether a person is underweight, normal, overweight or obese. Right now, the formula for calculating BMI is; BMI = weight (kg) / height (m2) And generally, it is accepted that: A BMI of 18.49 or below means a person is underweight; A BMI of 18.5 to 24.99 means they are of normal weight; A BMI of 25 to 29.99 means they are overweight; A BMI of 30 or more means they are obese. Until sometime last year, I accepted this measurement as truth. I studied Biochemistry and I remember thoroughly enjoying the nutrition classes because we dealt with things like BMI. I was especially happy about it after I learned how to help malnourished babies get back to ‘normal’ weight. Those were the aspects of Biochemistry that made me love the course. But recently, I had a run in with a loud-mouthed doctor when I went to the hospital with my mum. She had suffered a heart attack. The doctor stabilized her and after she had taken the drugs he gave her, she stood up and went into the restroom. As soon as my mum was out of earshot and we were alone, the doctor said something to the tune of, ‘if you don’t want to suffer what your mother is suffering, you need to lose weight quickly. Can’t you see that you are too fat?!’ (And yes…that was almost verbatim). At first, I feigned laughter because he was a much older man and I was worried about my mum. And then I wondered why he was making the comparison because my mum is way slimmer than I am. He persisted. ‘Climb the scale there. I am sure your BMI will confirm what I am telling you. You are too overweight!’This time, I didn’t laugh. And because I am not one to suffer a fool gladly, I made sure I spoke pointedly at him so that he would get the message. ‘I am not your patient. Your job here is to get my mum better; nothing more. Can you KINDLY focus on that?’ I am sure he hadn’t been spoken to like that in a while. He kept quiet and waited for my mum to return. When he was done with his duties, my mum and I left. It wasn’t until later that I heard he told my mum I was a rude child. It gave me so much pleasure to have put him in his place. But… I digress. That day, I was so mad at the doctor. I saw what he did for exactly what it was; fat shaming. The man didn’t really care about my health. He didn’t have my medical history nor had he engaged me in a conversation to find out about my lifestyle. All he saw was a fat girl that he thought he could talk to in whatever way he felt he could. I wished I hadn’t been so ‘respectful’ of him and had given him a proper tongue lashing. And the more I thought about it, the angrier I became. But then, the anger passed. I looked at myself and admitted what I already knew; I am fat. My BMI says I am obese. But the question I asked myself after reacceptingthis fact was…am I healthy? This question prompted another. ‘If BMI used just weight and height to classify people into normal (which is translated to mean ‘healthy’) and obese (which is translated to mean ‘unhealthy’), could the unit of measurement be more about aesthetics than it was about health?’ I decided to pursue the thought. With almost 8 billion people in the world ranging from the shortest person – Chandra Bahadur Dangi who is just 54.64 cm – to Robert Wadlow who is said to have been the tallest person in the world (standing at 8 ft 11.1 in), there couldn’t possibly be a ‘normal’ height for people. This also meant that there couldn’t possibly be a ‘normal’ weight for people. As I processed these thoughts, I wondered: if you can’t have a normal height or weight, how can we have a ‘normal’ BMI? Because, what may be normal to a 5’9 man weighing 70kg may be underweight for a 7’1 person of the same weight, and overweight for a 5’4 woman of the same weight. So…if there was no constant in all this, how could the BMI be accepted as the appropriate unit of measuring ‘normal’ health? To process this thought further, I started doing some basic mathematics in my head. It was too stressful for me, so I found a BMI calculator that used the kilogram to feet and inches ratio. I started to calculate BMIs for a
The 2019 Writivism Festival
The 2019 Writivism Festival is here and we are pumped! Here is all you need to know about the festival…and why you should definitely attend. When you come to the festival Expressed in modern diction, “Ugandan party life will finish your money.” The plus side here is; no one has to spend on an entrance free to join in on the fun. At no cost, you get the chance to be entertained by the most sought after performers in the creative realm. The Writivism festival is a unique merry-making ceremony. The event celebrates African culture with emphasis on creative arts in every aspect that is; photography, poetry recitals, fashion, music to say the least. The festival is also held to celebrate African literature and remind you that books are very much enjoyable; you just haven’t landed on a good story yet. Artistic performances; every play, drama, concert, poem is formed out of words then brought to life through melody, body language and speech. Performances by award winning writers like Harriet Anena, Joshua Mmali and several short films will be screened. The festival is a family event. We have organized children’s activities too to make it as inclusive as possible. There will be a kid’s corner too facilitated by the celebrated Acan Innocent who has just recently released a kid’s book titled Black, Yellow, Red. Key note conversations; on topics like race and nationalism featuring figures like Apolo Makubya and Jennifer Makumbi not forgetting book launches. The annual festival is arguably East Africa’s leading literary festival and has become a fixture on the arts calendar of the region. Important books like Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi’s Kintu which won her the Windham Campbell Prize for Literature and No Violet Bulawayo’s We Need New Names, shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize, among others were unveiled a tour festival. Legendary figures in African literature like Uganda’s John Nagenda, Zimbabwe’s Tsitsi Dangarembga, Kenya’s Mukoma Wa Ngugi, Nigeria’s EC Osondu and Chika Unigwe and South Sudan’s Taban Lo Liyong have spoken at the Writivism Festival. Mention any important name in contemporary African Literature and intellectual circles and they have appeared at the Writivism Festival at some point. The 2019 festival brings back Ugandan Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi (Chair of the Writivism Short Story Prize judging panel, winner of the Kwani Manuscript Prize, Commonwealth Prize and lecturer of Creative Writing in the United Kingdom) with her new book,Manchester Happened as well as Zimbabwean Panashe Chigumadzi (winner of the K. Selo Duiker Literary Prize and doctoral fellow at Harvard University) with her new book, These bones will rise again. Activities of the festival Photography Exhibition Short films Fashion, Music and Poetry Night Kids’ book club Book launches Book Party: 2017 and 2018 Writivism anthologies Poetry Performances Film Night Books, T. Shirts, alcohol and other merchandise on sale Happy Hour alcohol party Follow the conversation on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram using the hashtags; #Writivism2019 #UnbreakableBonds #EastAfricaArts More information below.
We Are Going to the 2019 Abuja Literary Festival!
The Abuja Literary Festival is back! I attended the Abuja Literary festival for the first time in 2018. I think it was the first edition of the event and my first literary festival. In all honesty, I assumed the event was going to be snooze fest of reading and panel discussions. I specifically picked aspects of the festival to attend that I knew would most likely be fun; poetry slams, movie screenings and a panel discussion on marketing films in Nigeria and to a global audience. But by God! I was wowed! The first thing that was a pointer to the fact that I was going to have a great time was the number of books I saw on sale. It was positively orgasmic to see that many books in one place…and at the price they were going for! It wasn’t too long before I was busting out my card and picking up new ‘buddies’. Oh! I went hungry for a while after that but it was well worth it. The panel sessions I attended were genuinely interesting and the conversations greatly appreciated. I felt everything! If you had been looking at me, you would have seen me nodding my head in agreement with feminists, nearly cussing out a white man who said something along the lines of African writers needing to ‘stick to their own culture’, getting pissed the hell off when people said things that were just plain wrong, and even finding a new crush whose voice was just amazing! (I know! Weirdo!) I was supposed to attend a screening of 93 Days, a film by Steve Gukasshowing how Nigerian doctors led by Stella Adadevoh help curb the spread of the extremely deadly Ebola outbreak in Nigeria. Due to technical difficulties, the movie time kept getting shifted and because I lived in the outskirts of town and couldn’t be out too late at night, I didn’t see the screening. It was a sore point for me and I almost didn’t return to the rest of the festival. Then I heard that Dike Chukwumerije, the renowned spoken word and performance poet and award winning author was going to have a performance. I was elated. Oh! I had never seen Dike perform, nor had I heard about his performance but since I hadn’t seen a play in forever, the thought of being immersed in live performance had me giddy with excitement. It was, without doubt, one of the best moments of my entire year! My goodness! There were a million times I wanted to just jump out of my seat and hug the essence out of him! The play was thatgood! I laughed, cried, danced, reflected and hoped for a better Nigeria. I think this begs to be said again; it was, without doubt, one of the best moments of 2018 for me. So when I heard that the festival was coming back for a second year, I was just about ready to bust out my dance moves. Here is the official poster of the 2019 Abuja Literary Festival. Can. You. See. Our. Logo. Right. There?! Yes! It is with great pleasure that I announce our big news; Shades of Usis supporting the Abuja Literary Festival this year! Can you tell how EXCITED we are?! (If you are new to my blog, you will see a lot of ‘we’ when I talk about the blog. If you stick around, you will figure out why.) Okay…I am going to taper down and explain this better. My entire experience made me really look at the festival as a whole. It is an opportunity to discuss social, economic and political issues from the literary point of view. This is in line with my overall goal with Shades of Us. So I had this A-ha moment where I wondered how I could support this movement, and what it would entail. I spoke to the convener of the event, Buchi Onyebule, and we got talking. It was such a pleasure to have him accept my contribution to the festival. As can be seen on the poster, the theme for the festival is ‘Art and Social Consciousness’ and it would feature panel discussions, book readings, movie screenings, performances and a host of other events. I am eager about the movie that would be screening – as expected – and I want to see what plays would be showcased. This year however, I am not going to cherry pick the events that I would attend. As much as I can, I am going to be totally immersed in the entire festival! I would be there from the opening ceremony to the last hurrah on July 13th. This is where I ask you to be part of the event. I can talk about how great it would all be but… it really wouldn’t do justice to it. You would have to experience it to enjoy it. As you are well aware, putting up a festival like this costs a lot of money. Where you can, reach out to Buchi and ask how you can sponsor an aspect of the festival. You can also volunteer your time to help ensure the entire process is flawless. And the easiest thing you can do is share the posters on your social media platforms to help increase visibility and engagement. I am hoping that if nothing else, you would do that. While I would not have a stand nor do I have a physical product to push, I would most definitely be interacting with as many people as I possibly can. We are keeping the introvert at home for this one! I can’t wait to see you at the 2019 Abuja Literary Festival! If you see me, holla at your girl. Let us talk, interact, share ideas, promote reading and literacy in Africa, and generally just enjoy ourselves. I am excited! Are you?! Ramatu Ada Ochekliye, Founder and Content Creator, Shades of Us
The Male Identity Crisis
Man staring intently.Image: Pexels Most of us have probably heard that a woman’s identity is tied to a couple of things; her beauty, skin tone, demeanor, chastity or purity, and ultimately, her ability to use these qualities to square herself a husband and bear ‘his’ children. This can be further expanded into the duties she is supposed to play in these roles of wife and mother; roles defined as the epitome of her womanhood. And we all know that those duties are many, unreasonable and often times, downright wicked. But these roles are so firmly woven into the fabric of society that choosing a different path almost always results in backlash, shaming and in some cases, physical and sexual abuse. Very few people expect a woman’s identity to be tied to her intellect, career, goals and aspirations, or achievements. It why women are constantly asked about their husbands or children; regardless of what other achievements they have outside of that. So…yeah. Everyone has an opinion about what a woman’s identity should be to be considered ‘complete’. But…have you wondered what a man’s identity is connected to? I believe that men’s identity is tied to two things; the size of their account balances…and the size of their penises. Yes; I said that! And…I will say it again! So, let us really get into it, shall we? I was having a conversation with a ‘friend’ when he told me he was interested in a girl. Looking at him, and looking at the girl, I didn’t think he could get with her. It was not that he wasn’t good looking – because I genuinely believe everyone is good looking – but, this girl was a stunner. She seemed like the kind of girl who spent at least two hours every morning putting on her face. She smelled of class, money, and exotic fragrances. She carried ‘designer’ bags that were so good, they almost looked real and she generally had this air of you-can’t-get-me-even-if-you-tried thing about her. Honestly, I didn’t think my ‘friend’ had a chance; and I said so. He laughed in that overly confident way that men do when you present them with a challenge. ‘Forget all her paparazzi. She hasn’t seen life like that. I have set up a budget of N100,000 for her. I will take her to a really expensive restaurant, so she can have a taste of my kind of cuisine. When she sees how much I am willing to spend to give her a good time, there is no wayI will not knack.’ Yes; desperately sexist and misogynistic. Anyway, I called him out and told him spending money wouldn’t get him the girl. Again, he laughed and went, ‘Ramat, there is no girl that will see my car, see my house, go out with me and not be impressed. When she knows I can spend that money, she has no choice but to trip.’ I wanted to rile him up, so I asked if he was okay with knowing that a girl would only be interested in him because he was flashing money. This time, the laughter was snarky; I had hit a nerve. ‘See ehn Ramat, girls only like two things: money and big dick. And I have both. So, after I spend on her and knack her, she will definitely fall in love.’ I know you are probably as turned off by his crudeness as I was, but I remember laughing at him and telling him to keep wishing. I was so sure he wouldn’t get the girl. But…he did. Turns out his budget impressed her, and she became interested in him. While it wasn’t the first time I had heard a man make that statement and follow it through, it was the first time I has seen that level of brashness displayed by a guy whom I would never have considered a ‘catch’. There were aspects of him that were great, as with most people, but he wasn’t the oozing-with-Idris-Elba-sexiness kind of guy. But all that didn’t seem to matter. Soon enough, I was introduced to his many girlfriends, with each seemingly hotter than the last. One day, a girl came to see him with meals prepared for his week. I smelled her before I saw her and by God, I was mesmerized. This lady was so gloriously beautiful! Her look was the arresting kind; perfectly done hair, makeup, and nails, shoes, clothes and bag to the nines, and an entire aura of sexiness about her. If I thought the girl he budgeted N100,000 for was sexy, this one definedthe term! I am even going to go as far as saying that I felt like a dull glow in the presence of that much aura of sexiness. He quickly introduced her as his girlfriend and being his ‘wingman’, I acted like she was the only one in his life. Yes, I know I used to be disgusting too. But as soon as she left, I couldn’t hide my awe: how in the world did he get a girl like that?! He laughed as he told me his money made him all the more appealing. The opening line of Mayorkun’s ‘Bobo’ quickly came to my head. I was beginning to see that truly, ‘na money be fine bobo’. And judging by how big a hit the song became, it wasn’t hard to see why men totally connected to it. Still talking about that same ‘friend’, a time came when he made some poor investments. He lost a lot of money and was, for the first time in his life, really and truly broke. At about the same time, he got into an accident that totaled his car. He was lucky to have come out of the situation unscathed. For almost 6 months, he was in the dumps. He had to use public transport and learn all the inglorious aspects to it. I watched him shrivel into a shell of himself; ‘my guy’ was struggling.
