“Two men look out through the same bars;
One sees the mud, and one the stars.”
Fredrick Langbridge, 1849 – 1923
The dust raised by his last controversial
book There was a Country has not settled. A former Military Governor of
North Western State during the Nigerian Civil War, Alhaji Usman Faruk has just
published his own version of the war in which he casts the Northern leaders who
executed the war as patriotic heroes. On the very day he died, alarming
statements were being made by people who were not even born before the Nigerian
civil war, most of them threatening mayhem, revenge and even another civil war
following the bombing of buses in Kano which, as it turned out, mostly took the
lives of people from the same stock as the presumed bombers. One or two
prominent writers even hinted that the bombing in Kano may have hastened his
death. Chinua Achebe’s Nigeria is falling apart at a rate no one could have
imagined. The tragedy is that history will record him as a symbol of its cultural
wealth, as well as a symptom of its failure to utilize its assets.
The last book published by Achebe will not
be the one best remembered by the world. But that book reminds us that we have
fought many battles, and it unearthed feelings and sentiments which remind us
that we are today very much still in the past. That past had produced the
Achebes and Soyinkas and Abubakar Imams and Zungurs, heroes of the literary
world, activists who dared authorities and broke down walls, yet unable to
live entirely above their social contexts. The world will mourn him for
his classics such as Things Fall Apart, but Nigerians will always argue
over whether he is an icon which the nation should cherish and honour, or an
ethnic champion whose last hurrah was to open up old wounds in a nation
desperate to move on. The world will mourn a great African writer, and many
Nigerians will miss a man who had stirred nests with his defiance and courage
to ruffle feathers.
Achebe would appear to have been born with
a complimentary set of gifts: the gift of expression, and the gift of using the
expressed word to assess his social and political environment and attempt to
change it. From Things Fall Apart, which captured the effect of major
social upheavals and changes engendered by colonialism, to other works which
parody post-colonial efforts to build a nation out of many conflicting value
systems, to his last novel which was a personal history of the Nigerian Civil
War, Achebe was at once participant observer with a keen eye on social change,
as well as a historian who took liberties with a personal perspective on such
changes. There are not many equals of Achebe in the use of a foreign language
to speak to his society, and the contemporary and peer such as Soyinka who were
elevated above him by an international award have been pilloried for being
better at addressing foreign audiences than their fellow Africans, or taking
away an honour Achebe deserved. Fewer writers have shown a more consistent disdain
for the decline in values and the failure to utilize potentials in their
nations as Mr Achebe. Even when he was comfortably esconsed in foreign lands,
his heart was always with his people and his country. Twice he rejected being
honoured by Nigerian governments he felt were not good enough to honour him,
having partaken in the demolition of what could have been a great edifice for
all Nigerians and the black race.
The controversy generated by his last book
will sadly be the most lasting memory among Nigerian of this great writer,
particularly those too young to know or remember the tragic civil war. His take
on key aspects of the conflict, and his successful exorcism of old ghosts on
alleged genocide and role the of Chief Obafemi Awolowo resurrected some dormant
sentiments and bitter quarrels from the past. Achebe must have known that his
book will generate massive controversy, and while this is good for books
because they get sold in larger quantities, a rendition of a painful history in
a manner guaranteed to deepen the nation's faultlines is difficult to defend in
terms of patriotism. It will certainly tap into an existing residue of
sentiments and resonate with contemporary realities and conjectures; but by no
stretch of imagination can Achebe’s last work be described as a heroic
contribution to healing past wounds.
It is possible that Achebe’s last work was
never intended to heal wounds and move the nation forward. The major wounds of
the civil war had been healed a long time ago by an enlightened leadership
which made reconciliation possible, desirable and quick. There were also
organic elements at play in the quick healing process: a popular realization of
the fact that many mistakes had been made by the military since the January
1966 coup, for which millions paid massive penalties, including the loss of
more than a million lives; a thriving economy which created possibilities for
economic reintegration; and the realization that every section of the country
was vital to the other. Since then, periodic agonies are triggered when the
horrendous suffering by the civilian population is revisisted; or when it
appears that the nation is forgetting that one million lives had to be
sacrificed to keep it united.
In spite of dozens of books on the genesis
and execution of the war, controversies were sustained by arguments over who
was right, what went wrong, and what lessons the nation should draw from the
war. This in itself is not a problem. It becomes a problem when comments on a
sad chapter in our history tend to shed light on contemporary realities, and
reveal a tragic failure to move on from that tragic period. This was, going by
the reactions of many Nigerians to There Was a Country, what Achebe did.
His last comment on his country played into the hands of people who thought the
Igbo should never forgive Awolowo; people who thought Awo has always been
maligned by Igbo people who will not accept to pay a just price for their
follies; people who thought that Igbo people have never recovered from an orchestrated
genocide, and are still paying a price in political terms; and even people who
think the dream of Biafra is not dead, and can and should be vigorously
reactivated.
It will be interesting to know if Mr
Achebe had been availed of even the tiniest peak into conversations among
younger Nigerians on cyberspace which followed the release of his last book. It
will be uncharitable to say he had triggered a major setback in the unity of
the country, but it will be fair to say he lit up the dark and frightening
chasms which separate many younger Nigerians and equip them the horrible
stereotypes with which they see each other. If he did have a glimpse at
this level of our national psyche, it is doubtful if he would not have felt
some pain that his fellow citizens harbor such sentiments and feelings towards
each other. He may even have asked if he and his generation are justified in
enjoying their smug comfort in the belief that they had discharged their
obligations to their nation. Chinua Achebe left this world pretty much as he
found it: troubled and troubling. But history will say of him, here is one who
couldn't live with it.