Giants of History
I grew up in Owerri, a particularly insular town in Eastern Nigeria. I was born near Owerri, had all my education up to university level in the town, and the much I knew about the Yorubas and the Hausa - aside from the tiny bit of history from social studies – was what they did to us during Biafra and how these two tribes are still marginalizing us till date. I was in my first year in university when I first learnt that Itsekiri is a tribe in Nigeria, yeah I was that ignorant. Actually, I have to say that until about ten years ago, I thought all Northerners were either Hausa or Fulani. Such embarrassment I got when I served in Adamawa and I hardly met anyone who didn’t was that they weren’t Hausa. I felt like a dunce indeed.
Imagine therefore how I felt when I heard the news that history was
being taken off the educational curriculum. What I thought was, was it there in
the first place? If it was, it must have been optional or ‘relegated’ to the
arts classes – where the so-called serious students who wanted to make
something of their lives steered clear of. I had wanted to choose arts in
senior secondary, but you all know how e dey be na? My parents had illusions
about me becoming a lawyer. Besides, I thought biology was pretty interesting
subject. I did exceptionally well at GSCE for biology, so it wasn’t merely
‘that’ kind of biology I had in mind ;)
Having this background and
feeling my deficiencies, I do take interest in learning about history. I read
lots of historical novels. Sadly, I had to admit, I do then to read far more
European historical novels than Nigerian – something I need to do something
about as a matter of urgency. When you are a mother, you think beyond what you
are learning for yourself. But what you are learning for your child. I am on a
mission to make a reader out of bomboy. Not just fiction like me. As much as I
have got a wealth of information out of novels, once in a while one gets a
foot-in-the-mouth moment like when I was asking this Irish co-worker while I
was still in London why the English impoverished them. I could just see her
rolling her eyes and going, “seriously?” Baabu, bomboy will be a man of the
world – a knowledgeable fellow, if I can help it.
It was with bomboy in mind that I had a look at Giants of History,
a coffee table about historical figures of Nigerian descent. People who
succeeded in various worthy pursuits, at such large scale to earn them this
rather lofty but nonetheless deserved title of giant of history. People like Wole
Soyinka, Chinua Achebe, Nelson Mandela, Babatunde Jose, Madam Tinubu, , Usman
Danfodio, Funmilayo Ransome Kuti, among many other known and unknown innovative
figures of history. Above all, the author, Lateef Ibirogba, approaches the history
from a different and original perspective. It profiles the man and women that
the author admires, tells the story of their lives in two pages each. At two
pages devoted to each giant, it isn’t a comprehensive biography but a great
starting point for the layman. And I don’t think anyone is more a layman than I
am, really. Non-fiction isn’t generally my kind of thing, but I have found this
non-fiction quite riveting. I got an early look – you know, long legs
hehehehehehe. Oya, make I give una a peep too. Go to http://www.ktravula.com/2014/04/on-the-giants-of-history-book-review/
for a review of the book and come back to tell me what you think.
Giants of History is a coffee-table treasure for readers, writers,
journalists, students, and other research or history-oriented readers.
Published by Sage Publishers in Lagos, it features a profile of 150 “giants”
so-called because of their role in shaping the world mostly for the better, and
being pioneers that left the world way different than they met it. Think of
Nigeria, and the kinds of books you read as a child that made the most impact
on you. If that list is topped by books about history or about the biographies
of great men and women that have lived and died, then this book is for you.
There have been similar books like this in the past, notable of
which is Sanya Onabamiro’s Philosophical Essays (1980) in which the author
examines the past through the acts and eyes of great men of history. With
Lateef Ibirogba’s style of limiting each profile to two pages, the book gets enough
space to accommodate a number of historical figures. It also gives equal space
to each represented “giant” in a way that can be consumed at the time it takes
to eat a cookie at the reception desk of a dentist. A number of non-Nigerians
are featured too, for instance Aristotle, Plato, Marie Carie, The Wright
Brothers, Deborah Sampson, Johannes Gutenburg, and Mary Seacole.
Giants of History is highly recommended for students, particularly
in this age when history is no longer required in the secondary school
syllabus. It will also be a fantastic addition to the shelves of journalists,
doctors, writers, teachers, lawyers, broadcasters, academics, and a whole
number of people who are interested in looking at the past with a view to
understanding and appreciating the present.
Lateef Ibirogba was born in October 1960, and has worked as a
journalist (with the Punch and Daily Times) and as a publisher, among other
endeavours. He is currently the Commissioner for Information in Lagos State.
Giant of History is set to be launched on April 22nd at the Civic Centre,
Victoria Island, Lagos. The book reviewer is Barrister Tade Ipadeola, author
and lawyers, and winner of the 2013 Nigerian Prize of Literature. It will be
available for purchase at popular online bookstores after the book launch.
I have an entry pass for the book launch, but will be at Enugu on
the day. Anyone wants has a bit of time on their hands and fancies attending on
my behalf, let me know.
Ciao
Still Very Much A Work In Progress
I have been
negligent. Incredibly so. I am sorry. Please forgive. Done? Phew,
thanks. So it has been a few couple of months. What has happened since
then? I got a job – and almost as quickly un-got the job – in HIV/AIDS for
African and Black Caribbean women who had been newly diagnosed with the virus.
What happened was that the looming visa expiration date meant I couldn’t
flourish in this job as much as I had planned to. Overstaying my welcome,
of course, was utterly out of the question. But, it’s all good though. I learnt
what I could within the awfully short duration, and carried my kaya back to
Nigeria.
So, my boy and I have been home for a little over two months. It was
punishingly hot the first two months. It’s either I am acclimatizing or the
rains are finally doing their job. I’m not going to forget those scourging days
though. Ah! If you know much I pitied folks closer to the Sahara. Then again,
Arabs have no wahala. Dem sabi use dem oil money well. Their streets are
probably air-conditioned. Lagos, on the other hand, is so humid it makes you
want to kill yourself. When you know factor in the lack of steady electricity
from PHCN, it is tough to keep having a will to live. I didn’t cook the first
three weeks. I just couldn’t stand the heat from the poor ventilated kitchen –
hmm, don’t get me started about how poorly our houses here are built.
Anyway, enough of my whining. Oh, sad news though. Una remember all
those my gragra I been dey do to get a PhD admission? Well, none of am worked.
Rejections, rejections, rejections – the motherfucking bane of my life. I am okay
now. I took time to mourn (lol) and now I am duly wearing my big girl pants, ready
to face the world. The unsuccessful PhD applications presented an issue for me
– my family. Where do I seek employment? Being in development and public
health, Abuja or Northern Nigeria was the place to be. Truly, when I was coming
back to Nigeria, I was all set to relocate to Abuja. I was like, I will a job
ASAP (hehehehehehe. Well, one can dream) and I will leave bomboy with him papa
in Lagos. That was the deal – the blueprint. MM no fight me. He don tire. You
can’t chain a woman to yourself, after all. Within a month of our homecoming, I
began rethinking the thing. My kid is still very young, at an impressionable
stage in life. I have a lot of job to do in moulding him into the man he’d become,
and these early years count so much. Could I really leave him behinda? Perhaps
only see him two weekends a month? I could live with seeing my husband
infrequently – he is a big boy, he can take care of himself. But my kid, well
that na another story.
I remember having a conversation with a friend where I told him that
while I might struggle with sacrificing for my husband, with my son it is different.
I drop things for him at a heartbeat. Not like I live my life for him oh, or
have he dictates my every step. But, say with MM for instance, I don’t fret
about things like “another woman will take over my home,” or “mister man will
look outside.” For me, it’s like I married an adult. He has the thinking
faculties intact; he is very capable of deliberating for himself what is right.
If chooking around is his idea of what would exponentially increase his quality
of life, eh what else can I say? I no go hol’ am for leg saying, “lailai, you
can’t try it!” If you ask me, I would say that I am more inclined to shift
ground, so he can get the maximum opportunity to exercise himself without
having the need to explain jack to me. But my child, well I owe him. I feel a stronger
sense of responsibility towards him. For one thing, the boy is at an age where
he really really needs me. Above all, even if I fail at everything else, I
don’t want to fail at being a mother.
This brings me to a topic that I care very deeply about. Last year, if
you guys would remember, I blogged about seeking the services of both a
psychologist and a psychiatrist. At the time I told her about making the
appointment, my mom was flabbergasted. She couldn’t understand why I would want
to do such a thing as that. She said, “ikwuwala ara?” Translation, are you
going insane now? I wasn’t. Sure, the dissertation presented one of the most
challenging times for me (oh, by the way, I scored a distinction!!! Original
& primary research at that too! Very proud of myself). I had a near mental
breakdown. I have blogged about my depression episodes, so you kind of have an
idea that I did have a longstanding issue before now. Also, living with my
mother wasn’t a walk in the park. It was emotionally torturous for me at times,
but I shan’t be blogging about that!
During the sessions with the shrinks, I talked about my childhood. I
talked about my issues with my mother (precisely how she appears to strive on
making me feel inadequate and how I was tired to trying to please her, because
I never could). I talked about my dad, our lack of relationship, and the
conscientious decision I had taken to keep him at arm’s length because I felt
wounded by him again and again. I talked about how it was always at the back of
my head that I wouldn’t amount to much in life, because it seemed my parents
had decided that for me. Like they had looked into my future and seen it, and
it was just what it was. And how my entire life seems to be about proving them
wrong, yet believing that they really are right. And how tiring it all was.
The professionals thought my depression episodes were my body’s way to
shutting down. Of recouping all the energy I was burning constantly being
anxious that I was racing again a fate that had been signed, sealed and delivered
a long time ago. I didn’t believe them at first. I wanted a name for what was
wrong with me. Bipolar disorder? Anxiety disorder? Whatever, just give it a
name! So I could go onto the internet, google and google and google, make it
another project, conquer it. But they wouldn’t do it. The best I got was
‘unexplained depression’. But the worst part of the consultations was their
diagnoses. They said I was making myself depressive. And even when I wasn’t
depressed, I would expect it. That it was comforting to me to have the
episodes, because then I could tick it off and wait for the next one. It had
angered me, but today, I believe they were quite right.
I haven’t had any episode since the last consultation. I am not saying I
haven’t felt down. Those PhD rejections hit me really hard, particularly
because it was followed immediately by a rejection for a job interview. But the
difference is, there was a departure from my usual way of interpreting it as
“You see! Deep down, you always knew all these were a futile effort at any rate,
didn’t you?” instead, I spent many days reminding myself that I am a resilient
person. I get knocked down, I mourn, and then I get up again and keep going.
Some day I shall get that career success that appears out of reach right now.
That seems so far off, and me way down the ladder competing with people that
already have one leg in, or who have had better opportunities, or are smarter. I
know sha that some day I shall remember this phase the same way I remember the
time when I earned N25,000 as a monthly salary.
Bottom line, I am gaining a healthier perspective about my life. I am
putting my son at the forefront of it, because I felt my parents quite damaged
me. I keep reminding myself that that I didn’t have much of a family life
growing up doesn’t mean I can’t aspire to have one, and hold onto it now that by
some miracle I have it. I am very grateful for MM. He understands I am not
exactly a whole person. That I bear deep scars that flame up at times, and that
it clouds my vision. Presently, I am working on marketing myself as a public
health and development consultant now. I am going to have to put in some work,
get out of my shell, network and all. See how much crumbs I can get while I try
to dent the ground I walk on.
Ciao!
P.S: If you are into public
health or international development, join me on my other twitter account
@MsUzoaru
They Said They Raped Me
Don’t worry, I am not going to talk about
Basketmouth and diarrhea of the mouth he suffered this past few days. A lot has
been said about it, said far more eloquently than I can and by way better
writers. I do want to add something to the discourse about rape and how it is
treated in Nigeria. I am going to do that by telling a story I have never told before even
though it's been nearly twenty years, at least not in a public medium like a blog.
When I first entered the Uni, I was so
excited to be released into the wild. I was never really your typical
"properly behaved" girl, so I don’t quite think anyone expected me to
be your average Sister Holiness. I was adventurous, but had been held back by
my strict background. Mind you, I was not a partying kind of girl, never have been. I didn’t
go out much in the day, much less at night. I didn’t do very well with alcohol,
got too tipsy too quickly, so I generally didn't bother with it. I never smoked:
partly because I am asthmatic and partly because I found kissing a dude right
after he'd smoked rather nasty. I didn’t wear skimpy clothes. I had seen
myself as a fat person, and always longed for a much slender body. So
calling attention to my body with clothes wasn't my thing. Well,
except my legs but even at that it was a rare day that I wore anything short. So, on
the level of ‘bad-girl-ness’ parameter I had been raised in, I was
pretty tame. The only thing was that boys interested me a lot. Before then, they had
been this big mystery I had been kept far from, so yeah I wanted to try them as
much as I could once I got the chance. Unfortunately, not a lot of them interested
me when I really got down to it. Those who did, did not interest me for long.
And of course, there is always those who interested me who did not find me as
interesting. Anyway, I quickly learnt that taking on too much of boys within a
short space of time did not sit right with me. It was tiring, it was emotional,
it was boring, it was way too much hassle and not a lot of fun I had imagined
it would be. So I kind of purged myself of it all.
Then came my final year, four years later, I
discovered that there had been a rumour about me from that early uni days when
I was on a rollercoaster. Someone said I had been raped. I suppose constantly seeing
a girl with boys and then suddenly she is keeping to herself is too bizarre, it
just had to equate to a girl who had been raped. Apparently, a group of boys had
said they raped me. They said where they did it, they said when they did it,
and this complete fabrication made the rounds. I was stunned when I heard it. I
could not fathom how screwed up a person has to be that he derives pleasure in saying
he raped a girl. He did not just claim that to have had consensual sex. That
would have been stupid, but by jove understandable. He raped. He and his
friends raped. WHO LIES ABOUT RAPING SOMEBODY???????!!!!!!!! Who does that?
What sort of fucked up world do Nigerian boys live in that it would ever be
okay to boast about raping somebody?
I did confront one of the boys - the main guy
it was supposedly done in his room when I supposedly visited him. He claimed he
never said rape. Actually, he said he never said anything. So, where had the
story come from? He doesn't know, but he isn't the person who spread it, he
insisted. What was I going to do? It had been four years. How do I trail the
story? Besides, I was very scared of what else had been said - what other
falsehood had been spun. And yes, to an extent, I wondered if it was my
punishment for dallying with boys in the first place. My punishment for not
doing the good girl thing - attached myself to one boyfriend for the rest of my
years in university, or maybe do even better than that - keep chaste all
through it, going from class to library to fellowship meetings. Moreover, I was
grateful it had merely been a rumour. Yes I was, and immensely so. Because it
could have actually happened, and you and I know that a majority of our people
would have said that I had been asking for it. Still, I cried and my
self-esteem took a huge beating.
I cannot therefore find the homour in rape
jokes. Who knows, maybe the rape rumour had started with a joke. Someone joked,
someone laughed, and by the next day it had taken a new form - it had become a
confession. Imagine my seventeen years old self hearing that, first time away
from home, fragile and vulnerable. Imagine if I had heard that rumour then. So,
no, there is no room for rape jokes in my book. I don’t frigging give a shit
about the context. Because all it does is desensitize people about the gravity
of the damage rape does to people’s lives. It trivializes to an extent that
someone can be sick enough in the head to actually lie about doing it. To what
purpose, I wonder. So yes, everything about rape upsets the shit out of me.
Ciao
Tag :
Rape,
True Confession,
Why We Need Nigerian Married Men and Women Pushing For Gender Equality
One of the things I learnt from my
program – more so with the political science course I took on health policy –
is that very few things (if any) are ever black and white. Thus to communicate
these many shades of grey, especially to a particular audience, much is
dependent on the language you use. Another word for this is
"framing", which I feel captures it aptly. Simply put, framing is
about choosing to say/present something in the language or context your
audience will best understand or would be more inclined to agree to. It is
about tweaking your message, without changing your core beliefs. For example,
to get the USA to take HIV/AIDS seriously, and to commit their abundant funds
to fight the epidemic, the disease was framed as a security risk to America. It
was no longer just something that was killing those poor, starving Africans
& unfortunate gay men who aren't practicing safe sex. It was no longer a “something
that happens to them” message, but “something that harms us”. And who wouldn't
sit up straighter when they hear the second message compared to the first?
I have been thinking about framing as it is used in gender equality. More in the sense that it hasn't yet been framed right, particularly in Nigeria. Or rather, the majority of the framing has been mostly in the way that rubs people the wrong way. I suppose the message I received on Facebook is an illustration of the image equality has in the mind of many. What happened was that I had written a note and posted a photo from my wedding on our fifth anniversary and someone thought I should know that he thought my “mouth dey leak like some sexual liberated woman, I think. Anyway so it’s surprising you’re married, and with a kid, 5 years straight. I just pictured you as some woman in her thirties with a lot of sexual experience, though presently unattached or at least unmarried.”
I am not going to focus on the
rudeness of being told my “mouth dey leak”, but yeah I was offended by that
message. For one thing, I sometimes picture myself as one of those annoying
married women who always find some ways to drag their husbands and kids into
everything. Online comments, movies/TV shows references tells me there are
plenty who frown at this behaviour, but it is a bad habit I kind of don’t want
to break. I love my family so much, and to have to make great efforts to speak
as little about them as possible, so as not to tick someone off, is not
something I want to do. So, considering that my family is a visible part of my
life, I couldn’t understand why this person had somehow managed to skip out on
all those posts that focused on them but dwelt on those on gender equality and
sex? Of course, people are funny and often tend to see only what they want, but
it did make me think.
Presently, gender equality is very negatively represented
in Nigeria, and this is even among the educated. I know too many well-learned
friends who still think gender equality is all about a woman spending money on her
man, or young ladies who scout for the richest man to marry them. They complain
about women who hoard their money and make their husbands do all the spending.
Women who keep secret bank accounts, and have secret properties. There is also
the talk about the havoc equality wreaks on the family unit. Women are not
willing to submit, and their marriage soon crash. They prefer to gallivant
about town with their single friends and fight over wealthy men with these
women. Then, there is the “loose women” group I was perhaps thought to belong
to – the “sexually liberated” who couldn’t possibly be married because proper married
women don’t behave in that way. This pretty much sums up the picture that is
painted in people’s mind when they think of gender equality. There are even
people who think only women advocate for equality. This is the result of the
way gender equality has been framed – this is the framing that is promoted by
those who are against equality. And because framing works either ways, for good
and for bad, what better way to get people to reject something if not by
showing them that it does not work in their favour, that it is exactly what
they don’t want. Same way that homosexuality was framed as an outcome of
children being sexually abused. Till date, there are people who still buy into
that frame. They tell stories of abused boys who are gay when they grew up, and
say nothing of those raised in a perfectly healthy home and had perfectly
healthy childhood.
In that sense, I think we advocates of equality need to
acknowledge that this is the framing. But beyond that, we need to acknowledge
the underling value behind this frame: that family life is very important to
our society. We can’t negate this value, because to do so means to keep playing
into the hands of those who are actively fighting equality. In other to sell
equality, we need to present it as something that does to threaten this social
value. We need to sell it as pro-family. We would do it in a different way, but
we absolutely need to. What’s more, I know some people will not agree with me,
there is a very good place for Nigerian married men and woman and those in
committed relationships in this. I think that they are positioned to be good
ambassadors of equality. Someone might think, “oh, you are saying we should
teach girls that marriage is all and all.” No, absolutely not. But to
continually emphasise that marriage isn’t all and all, while paying little
attention to marriages where equality has been successfully practiced, would be
reinforcing the existing negative frame. The message becomes, “don't marry; men
are bad.” But people want to marry, so they will turn against
the messenger and reject the message.
If there are few married women and men who are vocal about
gender equality, it gives off the impression that advocates of equality are
women who are all alone, single, or divorced. We are indirectly giving credence
to the erroneous stereotype that has associates equality with bad wives, unruly
women and broken home. So, why do we then play into the frame that hurts our
cause? Should we then be surprised that a young woman, when she is of the age
to marry, would rather swear by her mother and father that she is not a
feminist? Why would she want to be? Human beings are inherently
self-preserving, so you can be assured she is considering what good it does her
to call herself one. If she feels it is going to limit her chances of getting
married, why then should she? If getting married is what she wants, why should
you insist that she gives it up or shame her for having such a desire? If she
feels she is going to be unhappy single, do you tell her she won’t? How do you
know? As someone I know often says, “are you in my head?” So it is for men. To
ask him to live with a woman who keeps secrets, secrets he may consider deadly,
is neglecting his own ideas of what marriage life is.
We need to embrace the fact that marriage holds a social
value, and some people want that. So to buy into equality, people want to be
made to feel that they are not going to lose out on this thing that they have
attached so much value to. Why do I say married people are positioned to sell
equality? Well, who best to sell marriage than those who are married? Who best
to sell equality in marriage than someone who has such a relationship? And in
Nigeria, it is the man that marries a woman. And because of the structuring of
the society, a woman on her own cannot achieve equality in her marriage without
her man buying into it. Thus, we need the men. We need them to help reframe
this cause. We need them talking about being in a loving relationship with a
woman who believes in equality. We need men talking about believing in
equality. We need married women and men reframing the understanding of a
marriage relationship by talking about the place of equality in their homes.
Yes, I am married, and yes I consider my marriage a great achievement – not
just because I did get married, but because I haven’t abandoned ship as marriage
is an incredibly difficult institution. What’s more, I am very proud of the man
I married. A man who considers me his equal and the word “submission” has no
place in our relationship. Maybe if I had married a different kind of man, I
won’t have the happy story I have today. Yet, I am a very, very ambitious woman
who is eager to go out and make a name for herself. So yes I would be flattered
if I think I could inspire a young woman to look at me and think, “she is
married and she is a feminist; it can’t be that bad.” Women like me who are married
to men like MM should be vocal about gender equality. Men like MM shouldn’t be
drowned out. They are strong men whose women love and respect them. They should
speak for equality.
Ciao.