Our Eyes Are Looking Up

 

Our eyes were looking up

We cried out with one voice

Wondering from whence our help cometh 

Men and women

Boys and girls 

We carried our placards

And we hit the streets 

Don't beat us we said

Don't kill us we cried

Don't hide our bodies we begged

From Awkuzu to Abattoir

The voices from the ground cried along 

Why did you kill us?

What was our crime?

As we made these calls

Both we that were here

And they that were in rivers 

And they in shallow graves

And they in unknown bushes and morgues

We began to feel a new hope

That our oppressors were benevolent

That we were fostering a new nationhood

One that is just and accountable 

That we could matter to them 

Then one cool evening 

Standing on this hope 

We made our to the tollgate again

We sat on the floor 

We waved our flags 

We sang in loud voices

That the labours of our heroes past 

Shall never be in vain 

Then the soldiers came

And the bodies hit ground

One, two, three, seven

they've killed us

And then they killed us

Now here we are again 

Our eyes are looking up

Our cries no more loud

But muffled and hidden

Wondering from whence our help cometh

Wild Passion

Kiss me, hug me 

Tell me things 

I'd like to hear 

Wild wild passion 

Trace my anatomy

Stop at the jugs

Move to the navel

Wild wild passion

Work your tongue 

Down the path 

Of the perfect Vee

Wild wild passion 

What is reason?

What is fear?

my woman throbs, aches, and yearns 

Wild wild passion 

Make me moan 

Make me scream 

Make me say that all is fair 

Wild wild passion 

Awake I lay 

The fire quelled 

A foetal mass 

You are a foe and not a friend 

My wild wild passion 

We Are One

• 
  

Did I tell you that we are one?
Not Black, not White, just human
We see the beauty of nature
We feel the flicker of hope
The joys of family
The passion of love

Again I tell you that we are one
Not rich, not poor, just people 
We feel the dread of disease
The piercing of pain
The frustration of helplessness
The clutch of desperation 

Do you agree that we are one?
Not Christians, not Muslims, just believers
Whether we believe in Jesus,
or we believe in Mohammad,
or we believe in evolution,
or we believe in our gods

You need to know that we are one
Not man, not woman, just  survivors
Striving to succeed
Seeking utopia
Wanting to be seen, to be heard
Counting the days, months, and years

Let me show you that we are one
Not sinners, not saints, just mortals
Wanting to be right
Wanting to do right
Pushing our agendas
And wondering if we are right

So let's focus on our oneness
Setting aside these artificial divides
When it's all said and done
It's always a story of birth and death

THE BEGINNING OF EVERYTHING COLOURFUL by ONYEKA NWELUE

Most people are very comfortable sharing embarrassing secrets and painful memories with strangers. Most times, this is because they know they will likely never see these people again, and a stranger is less likely to pass judgement. That is the case of the two protagonist narrators in ‘The Beginning of Everything Colourful’.

The first narrator is a Mexican musician who hates the Spanish, and the other is a Japanese businessman who hates the Chinese. They meet at the waiting lounge in Doha International Airport, both waiting for a connecting flight to Tokyo. The two men decide to share intimate details of their lives. 

The Japanese own a flourishing restaurant in Lagos, but he is weighted down with family problems. He thinks his wife is considering infidelity, his son’s sexuality, obsession with 50 Cents, and his running around the streets of Lagos with a dangerous crowd is a problem. His daughter, Aiko, likes black men too much, and he is sure his family prefers his absence.

The Mexican musician, on the other hand, has lived many lives. He had a dysfunctional childhood, where his father cheated on his mother with a family friend. His parents divorced, and this resulted in a lack of parental care. He ran away with a Catholic nun, and also married his mother’s friend who became an alcoholic. She conspired with his sister, also an alcoholic, to commit him to a mental hospital. In Tel Aviv, he had to swim across a river butt naked to avoid deportation. These different experiences have left him with a mental health disorder and a restless search for inner peace.

Nwelue spins a good tale, taking the reader through different stories and cities; Paris, New York, New Delhi, Lagos, Tel Aviv and down to Tokyo. Nwelue gives a good description of his characters and translates their emotions appropriately through the use of multiple narrators. The reader may not feel a deep emotional connection to the characters because of the cerebral writing style. Both the Mexican and the Japanese take turns as first-person narrators, and an omniscient narrator pops up from time to time to shed more light on particular events. The lack of sequence in which the first narrator tells his stories may pose a problem to the reader.

The plot consists of two strangers spilling their guts in a monologue-style conversation. The theme involves everything from; race, religion, culture, politics, parenting, sibling rivalry, etc. The author writes the book in accented English (Spanglish and ‘Japalish’), the use of these accents in the telling of the story, although quite creative, had a few inconsistencies which may also pose a problem of comprehension to readers.

The author makes a cameo appearance at the Doha International Airport, and onboard the flight to Tokyo, where he introduces one of his other books ‘The Abyssinian Boy’ to his seatmate. This scene was an unnecessary part of the story, and the author should probably have left it out.

This book may not be a favourite among readers. It is different and intriguing, but if you can get past the initial confusion with the accents, you may find it quite enjoyable.

Rated 6/10

Easy Motion Tourist by Leye Adenle: A Review

Leye Adenle’s novel titled after a ‘70s highlife hit song by ‘The Harbours Band’ unravels a plot of armed robbery, police shenanigans, ritual killings, and a thriving trade in human body parts while giving the reader a guided tour of Lagos. 

This spellbinding crime thriller narrates the story of a greenhorn British journalist, Guy Richards, who was sent to Nigeria to cover elections, and a ‘Street Samaritan’, Amaka. Guy finds the mutilated body of a young lady in a gutter on his first night in Lagos. The young lady was murdered and dumped beside ‘Ronnie’s’, a bar in the highbrow area of Victoria Island. He was arrested along with other onlookers at the crime scene and taken in for questioning.

Amaka is a young lady who has dedicated her life to ensuring that young women in the night business are safe as they go about their business. She shows up at the police station and rescues Guy from the clutches of ‘cell B’, Sergeant Hot-Temper, and Inspector Ibrahim. Together, Guy and Amaka form an alliance that helps to unravel the mysterious disappearances of some of the women Amaka had sworn to protect.

The author tells the story from multiple perspectives, giving the reader a clear insight into the various characters in the book, and the short chapters keep it fast-paced. Sufficient details on the secondary characters ensure the reader is engrossed. The use of funny aliases - Knockout, Catch-Fire, and Go Slow - douses the tension of the serious nature of the crimes in the book. The language is simple, and the prose flows with an ease that makes the book a much more enjoyable experience.

Easy Motion Tourist is a great book. It is easily the best Nigerian book I have read this year, and I look forward to reading the sequel and more of Adenle’s writings.

Rated 4/5

'Love Does Not Win Elections' by Ayisha Osori

A REVIEW
"Do not assess your chances based on how much people claim your opponents are disliked or [reviled]: love is not a currency at the ballot." (pg.239)

LOVE DOES NOT WIN ELECTIONS is a personal account of an aspirant on how to win elections in Nigeria. It is easy to read, humorous, and honest. The language is simple, with the use of beautiful metaphors that creates relatable imageries that engages the reader. 

In this book, the author places a floodlight in the murky waters of Nigerian politics. It gives an insight into some ingredients that may likely increase the chances of winning a primary election in Nigeria. Things like money, godfatherism, nepotism, and extreme begging are some of the oils that lubricate the Nigerian political engine.

After years of being a keen observer of the Nigerian political scene from her vantage point as the chief executive officer of the Nigerian Women's Trust Fund, a non-profit organisation focused on the increased representation of women in politics and decision making. Ayisha Osori decided to run for office as a member representing the AMAC/Bwari constituency of the Federal Capital Territory in the House of Representatives in 2015, on the platform of the People's Democratic Party (PDP).

The book details the foray of the writer into the Nigerian political arena. As she puts it, choosing a platform to run was difficult because "There is not much to distinguish between Nigeria's two main political parties.". She also faced with the unusual task of kneeling to beg delegates to vote and exchanging brown envelopes for favours.

In the end, Ms. Osori lost the primaries by a wide margin to the incumbent. Possibly because she could not get the endorsement of some party bigwigs, or mainly because there was an agreement amongst party leadership to return all incumbents. Either way, it benefits the political class that things should remain the way they are, there is less room for surprises.

On the other hand, the delegates and constituents, that should be more concerned about voting out non-performing representatives are more concerned with handouts given to them by politicians during electioneering periods. These actions leave one wondering about what the actual problem is. 

The problem is not a lack of information. Most people know what they expect from their elected officials as evidenced in the book when the writer met with the constituents. So, why do they continually listen to this money language spoken by politicians? 

The book is a must-read for anyone that wants to go into politics in Nigeria. It is also necessary for everyone that wants our democracy to thrive. Not only does it dish out tips for prospective aspirants and candidates, but it also forces the voting public to answer some difficult questions.

'Never Look an American in the Eye' by Okey Ndibe

I  thoroughly enjoyed this book. It was funny, instructive, and brutally honest even to the point of self-deprecation. The author told the stories with an ease reminiscent of after-dinner storytime rituals, which is a feature in most Nigerian homes. The humour and relaxed style of writing draws in the reader and makes it easy to forgive the use of highfaluting words where their 'lowly' synonyms could have easily sufficed.

It tells a story of the contrast between the Nigerian and American cultures. The stereotypes, misconceptions and culture shock that is wont to beset a 'Johnny just come' to either location. He gives the experience of his first winter in America, his first experience of paying for an outing he didn't initiate, and how the police mistook him for a bank robber. 

 He recounts the bittersweet experience of editing a magazine (African Commentary Magazine) that was widely acclaimed for its content but perpetually dallied on the brink of collapse.

One way to look at this book is as a travelogue that takes the writer on a voyage from being Nigerian, being a Nigerian in America, to being Nigerian American.