Chinua Achebe: Lessons From A Personal Encounter

I first encountered Professor Chinua Achebe in the early 1990s—through his works, that is.  I had read Things Fall Apart in secondary school and was fascinated by the story of the tragic end of Okonkwo, its main character. Partly, my fascination owed its spark to Pete Edochie’s first-rate interpretation of Okonkwo in the 1980s NTA’s adaptation of Things Fall Apart.

That chance encounter with what is today the most widely read book in modern African literature set off an enduring relationship with the literary giant behind the book.  Ever since, I have read that enduring masterpiece, my all time favorite, countless times. 

My love affair with Things Fall Apart goes beyond its stellar records: an all time bestseller, with over 12 million copies sold in more than 50 languages in 55 years. Its attraction for me lies in its audacity to tell the African story from within. And it tells its story in a way that is as facile as it is fascinating.  Written in 1958, the book boldly challenged the arrogance of the Outsider who arrogated to themselves the right to speak for Africa and by so doing denied its history. 

Africa has a past; it has a history. And that’s what Achebe wants his African readers to know, that “their past…
was not one long night of savagery from which the first European acting on God’s behalf delivered them.” It was not Conrad’s heart of darkness. Such knowledge has a way of infusing one with dignity and purposeful engagement with their world. At least it helps to know where one is coming from to help chart the course of where one is headed.

My second encounter with Achebe was more dramatic and personal.  This time I was an undergrad student of philosophy and humanities with an awakened consciousness of my African heritage. It was a period of passionate engagement with Achebe’s works and those of other African Writers Series authors like Buchi Emecheta, Flora Nwapa, Ngugi wa Thiong’o, Peter Abrahams, Charles Mungoshi, etcetera. I scoured the library for Achebe’s corpus, anything by Achebe that I could lay my hands on. And I enjoyed them all.

I was so immersed in Achebe that I decided to write my degree position paper on him.  But in doing that, I disagreed with his position on the Igbo understanding of God in his 1975 seminal essay, “‘Chi’ in Igbo Cosmology.” I remember the excited surprise with which my supervisor asked if I was aware that it’s Achebe, a reputable authority, I was taking on. 

Well, I didn’t set out to contradict Achebe. As a fellow Igbo, who grew up in the Igbo cultural milieu, I can relate with the traditional worldviews Achebe articulates.  All I wanted to do was to stand on his shoulders to see farther in order to dialogue with this culture, especially in the wider context of Africa and its interaction with the West, the Other.

My position paper done (and at the prompting of a writer friend), I got Achebe’s Bard College, New York address, and mailed him a copy of my work; of course, introducing myself and explaining what an honor it was to anchor my work on his.  I wished he could read the work, to agree or disagree with my disagreement with his work. At the same time I wasn’t sure what his disposition would be to this “impudence.” I didn’t think he would reply. But I mailed him a copy anyway, hoping he would.  He never did.

My love for Achebe and his works neither wavered nor waned as a result. As the world mourns his death on March 21, 2013, aged 82 years, I reflect on some of the lessons he has left Nigeria in his near six decades corpus.

Like a typical African elder with a premonition of his death, Achebe gathered the country around his literary deathbed before passing on to the Great Beyond.  He left us with There Was A Country to remind us of his teachings.  The hullabaloo generated by the Master’s recollection remains unfortunate. Myriad of self-acclaimed commentators surfaced overnight and, true to type, went chasing the wind.

There Was A Country, beyond his reflections on the Nigeria-Biafra War, touches, on Achebe’s takes on the Nigerian condition. The unholy trinity of bad leadership, corruption, and indiscipline, which he decried as the bane of our national development, are still rife in our society. He called our attention to that three decades ago categorically asserting: “The trouble with Nigeria is simply and squarely a failure of leadership.” That 1984 diagnosis of Nigeria’s ailment in The Trouble With Nigeria remains distressingly true today. This time, not only the leadership, but also the entire nation is sick. 

Yes, our leaders have refused to rise up to the challenges of their responsibility and personal example. But the rest of us have also failed to exhibit the requisite discipline that complements such exemplary leadership. The malady of indiscipline so pervades our national life that lawlessness and corruption have become, to hearken back to that hackneyed phrase, the order of the day. 

The putrid smell of our indiscipline and corruption chokes us—in our homes and public places, in schools, churches, public service, private sector, and in government, the legislature and judiciary included. We are so used to public figures stealing tens and hundreds of billions of public fund that we no longer care when one steals just millions. Recently, a Judge fined a civil servant 750, 000 naira for stealing 23 billion naira only.  Such is the inuring effect of the dizzying heights of our corruption.

The recklessness on our roads is one telling display of our penchant for lawlessness. Achebe paid dearly for this with a spinal injury following a 1990 road accident that left him partially paralyzed and forced him to live abroad the rest of his life.  Hundreds still die and many more are maimed on our highways annually.

And we are all implicated in this daily mass murder on our roads, from the auto mechanic who does a shoddy job to the businessman who sells retreaded Tokumbo tires, the driver who does 140km/h on a pothole-ridden highway, the passenger who throws trash on the highway, the road contractor who does sub-standard work, and the government official who collects up to 70% kick-back, leaving the contractor with little funds to execute the job. 

When in 2011 Achebe turned down for the second time (the first was in 2004) the national honor of the Commander of the Federal Republic, he insisted that "the reasons for rejecting the offer when it was first made have not been addressed let alone solved.” People are still “hungry and despondent… There is no security of life. Parts of the country are alienated. Religious conflicts spring up now and again. The country is not working.” So it made no sense to offer the award a second time.

Little, if any, has really improved since then.  But none of it concerns Achebe now.  He has kept the faith.  He has courageously fought the good fight and has admirably stayed the course. Now that he’s gone (nay, he’s still very much with us in his works), the onus is on us to act or not in order to rid Nigeria of the crippling spell of our greed, corruption and lawlessness.

It’s Easter. Have a blessed and joyous season.  And in all things, smile, and give thanks.

                                                   By Chijioke Azuawusiefe, SJ

Reproduced with kind permission of Yes! International Magazine: Faith & Family with Fr. Chijioke, SJ. Print edition; April 29, 2013.