How easy is it to choose the best Nigerian writing for a particular period without the bias of those given the task and some other factors coming into play? That, I have no doubt, must have been the dilemma the editors of the book, ‘A Possible Future: An Anthology of The Best Nigerian Writing (1789-2018)’, must have faced.
As someone who has followed Nigerian literature for decades, there are books I thought should have made the cut based on global recognitions and reception from the audience. Three of such books are Chika Unigwe’s The Nigeria Prize for Literature-winning ‘On Black Sister’s Street’, Ayọ̀bámi Adebayo’s 9Mobile Prize for Fiction-winning ‘Stay With Me’ and Chigozie Obioma’s Booker Prize-shortlisted ‘The Fishermen’. Their publication fell within the period of this Farafina Trust and Sterling Bank project. But art appreciation varies from reader to reader. Apparently, they didn’t tickle the fancy of the editors of this potpourri, which has poems, novel excerpts, short stories, memoir excerpts and plays from literary giants and new cats. It is some kind of history of Nigerian literature in one volume.
The anthology covers more than two centuries, featuring exquisite excerpts from over eighty literary works that highlight the excellence of Nigerian texts across pivotal eras like colonialism, despotism, and post-colonialism, and serves as a reminder of our vibrant literary heritage and offers insights into what the future may hold.
Arguably, some of the country’s memorable writers find space here, and two writers the editors would have loved to include, Elnathan John and Sefi Atta, were said not to have given their blessing.
The anthology’s inability to have much to present from the 1990s is a reminder to those clamouring for the return of the military into Nigeria’s politics. In that era, not much could be done in the literary space. It was an era writers and intellectuals were hounded and not a few went on exile. It was an era self-publishing was the main option for the few who released works. It took the return to democracy in 1999 for there to be a renaissance with the birth of new home-based publishers ready to either release the Nigerian editions of foreign published Nigerian novel, or give home-based talents the chance to flourish.
The work also reminds us of the different eras in the country’s literary journey, such as the pre-colonial, colonial, post-colonial, military and post-military periods. It also has a rich representation of the civil war, a period that birthed novels, memoirs and poems.
It also brings to life the contributions of the descendants of exiles, who have embraced their fractured African identities. One of them is Helen Oyeyemi. Her “Icarus Girl,” set in Ibadan (her birthplace) and the UK (where she has primarily resided), presents a captivating portrayal of spiritual displacement amidst liminality, offering a contemporary perspective rooted in the animist realism of Fagunwa. Although centered around twins, a motif rich in Yoruba mythology, the novel sparked debate over its classification as Nigerian literature due to the author’s self-identification.
In the anthology, we re-encounter Olaudah Equiano, D.O. Fagunwa, Wole Soyinka, Cyprian Ekwensi, Gabriel Okara, Obotunde Ijimere, Chinua Achebe, Duro Ladipo, Chukwuemeka Ike, Christopher Okigbo, Ola Rotimi, JP Clark-Bekederemo, Ken Saro-Wiwa, Isidore Okpewho, Buchi Emecheta, Femi Osofisan, Niyi Osundare, Elechi Amadi, Tanure Ojaide, Odia Ofeimun and Mobolaji Adenubi.
Also featured are the writing of Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Uzor Maxim Uzoatu, Sarah Ladipo Manyika, Biyi Bandele, Ikeogu Oke, Abubakar Adam Ibrahim, Lola Shoneyin, Teju Cole and more.
The first excerpts are from the biography of Equiano, which was first published in 1789. There was no Nigeria at the time but its inclusion is strictly because of the author’s tracing of his roots to present-day Nigeria.
The excerpts tell us of his abduction at the age of ten, his movement from one place to the other, including England, where he called home after buying his freedom and worked for the end of slavery.
The book gives us the chance to compare Soyinka’s and Ladipo’s treatment of the 1946 colonial authorities’ attempt to stop an Oyo chief from performing a traditional rite after the Alaafin’s death. Ladipo’s version, which was originally in Yoruba before being translated into the English version in this anthology, is titled ‘Oba Waja’ while Soyinka’s is known as ‘Death and the King’s Horsemen’ (which is now a Netflix movie directed by Biyi Bandele and made in Yoruba instead of the English language Soyinka wrote it in). It is clear that both set out to fault the colonial authorities’ demonisation of what they didn’t understand. ‘Oba Waja’ was published in 1963 and ‘Death and the King’s Horseman’ was in 1975.
Achebe’s 1958 ‘Things Fall Apart’ gets its due slot in this book and we get to re-encounter Okonkwo in his fullness, his warts and all, his fears and despair, his failings and his successes.
The excerpts from Emecheta’s ‘The Joys of Motherhood’ remind us that misogyny is an evil that must be uprooted. We see how patriarchy messed up Nnu Ego and how in the name of “tradition” women go through hell. This theme is reflected also in the excerpts from Lola Shoneyin’s ‘The Secret Lives of Baba Segi’s Wives’. Shoneyin laughs out, not loudly but subtly, at the stupidity of men like Baba Segi who think they are in charge but are being fooled by those they think they are under their jackboot.
The anthology also reminds us of what Ekwensi was known for: chronicling the city. ‘Burning Grass’ and ‘Jagua Nana’, the two books featured here.
We also have Eghosa Imasuen’s short story, “New Generator: I Pass My Neighbour”, a poignant exploration of Nigeria’s longstanding electricity supply challenge. There is also A. Igoni Barrett’s short story, “Dream Chaser”.
My final take: Literary appreciation is not an objective exercise. It is like beauty, which we are told again and again, is in the eye of the beholder. How a reader or a critic sees a book is dependent on factors that are, most often, personal to the reader or critic.
Farafina has done its bit. Whoever feels some worthy books are left out can do another project to accommodate them. There is alternative Booker, so what is wrong with having alternative best of Nigerian writing.
