ktravula – a travelogue!

Browsing the archives for the Observations category.

MultiChoice Dinner and the Sub-Desk

Last week Friday, I was at the home-welcoming party organised by MultiChoice Nigeria for the five Nigerian contingents/nominees at the 2015 African Journalist Awards in Nairobi, Kenya. It was a get-together dinner with veteran journalists in the country and a chance to review the state of journalism in Nigeria, discuss the problems that need solving, and appreciate us, the contingents, for “making the country proud.” The event held at The Regent hotel in Ikeja and had in attendance all the five Nigerian nominees (out of which four won in their categories) Wálé Ẹmósù (Tribune), Ibanga Isine (Premium Times), Fẹ́mi Asu (Punch), Arukaino Umokoro (Punch) and yours truly. Also present were editors of The New Telegraph (Yẹmí Àjàyí), The Nation (Festus Eriye), Business Day (Philip Isakpa), The Guardian (Martins Ọlọ́jà), The Punch (Martin Ayankọ́lá), and other journalists and friends.

Speaking first after necessary introductions by the MC, Mr. Jenkins Alumona, the MD of MultiChoice Mr. John Ugbe spoke of the dedication of his company to the sustenance of good journalistic practice in Nigeria. He spoke particularly of his new-found fascination with what is called the sub-desk in media houses where news stories are doubly and triply vetted by dedicated editors before publication, as a way of ensuring quality of the feature in terms of grammar and facts. Responding to the charge, each of the editors present spoke to their experience with the sub-desk and how important it was in making them into the kind of writers they became. They also spoke of the unfortunate disappearance of the desk in today’s media houses because editors no longer want to spend money to maintain it or because journalists don’t find the work done there as “juicy” or exciting. The consensus, however, seemed to be that something drastic needs to be done to get the quality of writing in Nigerian newspaper up to global standard.

As a blogger with no allegiance to any particular editor-in-chief but myself and self-selected critical (but competent) friends, the discussion intrigued me and I said so. The idea, thrown up by the Multichoice MD, of organising an annual workshop for all nominees for the CNN/Multichoice Awards, before the awards, as a way of contributing to the development of the journalistic practice in the country is a good one and should be applauded. I agree that it will lead to increased competence by all concerned. It will also add a bigger purpose to the annual event that is mostly celebratory. Something else that will greatly help – which I should probably have brought up when I had the chance on Friday – is an annual training of Nigerian journalists on plagiarism, how to avoid it and how to operate by global best practices regarding fair use of other people’s intellectual materials. I’ve been a victim of plagiarism by print media organisations a few times, as have many of my friends. It’s not something that should continue.

When responses were allowed, one of us, Ibanga Isine, challenged the editors present to also get off their butts. Rather than point fingers at what’s going wrong in the practice, they should also get out into the field and file reports like everyone else like they used to before they became content as title holders of “editor” positions. It is a sentiment I wholeheartedly support. The benefit I have, as a blogger, is the opportunity to be a reporter and an editor at the same time. Most media houses today have editors who do neither editing nor reporting, but merely sit down and earn heavy pay and a title that opens doors for them with no added benefit for the newspaper or the profession. In all, it was a warm and stimulating evening sharing ideas and listening to the veterans of the profession interact at close quarters.

After all the talk, we settled down for a nice dinner, after which the MD of Multichoice presented us with a free DSTV Explora decoder set with free three months subscription. That was nice. I’ve never been a cable person, but I’m now about to give it a try. I thank them.

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(Photo credit: Multichoice)

Let’s Save Binyavanga!

On October 31st, 2015, Kenyan writer and all-round brilliant mind Binyavanga Wainaina suffered a stroke. We didn’t know this until he himself wrote about it on a Facebook post that he has since deleted.

For those who don’t know him, Binj, as he’s fondly called by friends and acquaintances is the winner of the 2002 Caine Prize (which had on its shortlist Nigeria’s Chimamanda Adichie) and the founder of Kwani? online magazine, which he founded with his Caine Prize winnings. He authored the famous Granta essay How To Write About Africa and the memoir One Day I Will Write About This Place (2001). In January 2014, he came out as gay in an online essay titled “I’m Homosexual, Mom.” In the same year, he was featured as one of Time Magazine’s 100 Most Influential People. The profile was written by his good friend, Chimamanda.

More than any of his literary prizes however, Binyavanga is an all round humane (and childlike) soul. He is friendly, unassuming, and down-to-earth, as many who know him will attest. About five weeks ago, I featured him on Writer Sightings, using pictures taken during my last conversation with him in his house at Karen, on the outskirts of Nairobi. There was no hint that he was about to break down nor that he would not be making this year’s Aké Festival. His energy was as infectious as ever, and we talked into the evening, discussing everything in African writing, art, entertainment, language, among others, over mandazi and cold smoothie. Having him still come to Facebook to write, “like” posts, and share interesting links (as he has done many times) after the stroke is a testament first to his resilience, and his commitment to never be silenced.

He is now about to undergo some medical procedures in India to put him back together, and a few fundraising efforts have been set up to support his treatment. This morning, I gave my token to this cause, run by Kwani Trust (that has now raised 50% of the target goal. You can do the same, with Paypal or any other means, particularly if you live in Kenya, or anywhere else where Paypal works). For those living in Nigeria, Ake Arts and Book Festival (in collaboration with Nigerian artists, writers, and friends of Binyavanga) has set up a fundraiser this weekend at Freedom Park (poster attached). You can also donate through the Nigerian bank account that you can also see on the poster above.

Needless to say, this is a worthy cause. Binyavanga is one of Africa’s (and certainly this generation’s) living original and finest thinkers. Through his work, his words, and his life, he has given so many people new ways of interrogating set assumptions, and charting a new course for a battered continent. For this, for his large heart, and for more, he deserves our prayers, but more importantly, our help.

In the picture, he’s there holding my son who seemed to have fallen in love with him. Photo was taken at Aké Festival 2014 in Abẹ́òkuta.

Aké Diary (IX): The Deadly Laughter

by Emeka Ofoegbu

When the four kings of the satire sit down to have a panel discussion you can only expect brilliance.

The panelists are Pius Adésanmí, author of Naija No Dey Carry Last, Adéọlá Fáyẹhùn, host of popular online show Keeping It Real, Ayo Sógunró, author of The Wonderful Life of Senator Boniface & Other Sorry Tales and Victor Ehikhamenor, visual artist and author of Excuse Me. The topic is Deadly Laughter: Satire and Public consciousness in Africa. The moderator is Kọ́lá Túbọ̀sún, acclaimed linguist.

The discussion kicks off to Adéọlá admitting she has received countless death threats for the work she does on her show even with the disclaimer. This is something her fellow panelists agree with. Satire is an approach to dealing with major issues that affect our immediate society which is quickly catching on. The satire is meant to be as subtle as possible but still heavily packed with intent and often met with disapproval and hostility. One thing the panelists agree on is that as a writer of satire you must develop a readiness for vicious backlash. The art of subtle reproach is often too much for people to handle and for those who understand what is implied they cannot stand to be portrayed in that light so they strike back or speak out against it.

Victor lets us know that amidst the vicious attacks on satirists, the satire is meant to deflect violence being a way to say what you want to say without being direct. On whether people effectively understand the satire, Ayọ̀ says there are some people who “even if it is clearly marked and sent, some people still don’t get it”. Pius talks about his work saying that the satire respects no one. It brings out the people perpetrating wrongdoings and ridicules them. Often times the case is that they don’t like how they are portrayed so they prefer a direct attack.

Although the satire is meant to be daring, Ayọ̀ tells us there are certain things he cannot write about. He believes feminism is one of these things. He says this simply because he personally cannot handle the onslaught when it does come. To this Victor drops one of his many wise sayings “because you have sharp scissors doesn’t mean you’re going to be cutting everybody in the village’s head off”. It is explained that the moment as a satirist you threaten yourself by attacking matters that are unnecessarily dangerous you’ve crossed satire into sensationalism.

When the question of who censors the satirist came up, Adéọlá was quick to say “everyone.” She gave us examples of how she was hounded for speaking about a particular issue and again hounded by the same set of people when she decided to remain silent on the same issue. She explained her style of approaching the satire and how it has worked for her this far. According to her she lays the fertile ground before doing the dirty work of planting. She says complimenting before hitting the nail on the head is a style she has developed in her career as a satirist.

Questions were taken from the audience with Professor Niyi Ọ̀súndáre saying the steps to being a good satirist include: “dig your grave” “buy a good coffin” and “write your will”. When asked what it takes to be a satirist, Victor says to portray serious issues in a humorous yet objective way requires a level of humour to avoid it coming across as forced. After all, according to him “it helps for the snake to have venom before it bites”.

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Photo credit: Ake Festival

Aké Diary (VI): The Transgender Discussion

by Fọpẹ́ Òjó

LS introduces the discussion and talks about how she believes that Nigerians jet themselves by totally shutting themselves off from necessary conversation and dialogue that help us learn about the struggles of other people, the type of conversations that show what these people are going through and help us understand them and develop empathy for them.

Oláòkun Sóyínká is the moderator of this session with Ima Da Silva, an Angolan transgender woman.

“I’m really happy that we have our own Caitlyn Jenner.” Dr. Sóyínká says.

“Who is Imani Da Silva?” he asks.

“I am first a human being and yes, I am a transgender. And I’ve always felt like I was a girl since forever since I was five. When I was five I had my first crush.”

Imani Da Silva is a pretty woman. Her face is oblong and she is light-skinned. She ties an ankara scarf on her head and it suits her. She has lovely glowing skin. And slender legs and is dressed in an ankara skirt and a blouse. She wears light makeup and light red lipstick.

When she talks about happiness she says “We often forget that life is not a rehearsal, it’s today. I decided to be the change that I wanted to see.”

About the people who have influenced her and helped her through her journey, she says “I was always lucky to meet people who saw me for who I am personally and professionally. It’s so unfair to say that I got to where I am on my own.”

She talks about her mother. How her mother was a strong woman who never judged her or her brother or her sister. She later says that the kind of woman that she is has been majorly influenced by the kind of women that she grew up with.

Dr. Sóyínká asks her about the surgeries.

“This wasn’t a choice. You knew you were gay.” Dr. Sóyínká says.

“I had the sex reassignment surgery four years ago and it was the best decision I ever made.” She answers.

She also talks about growing up and religion.

“When I was a teenager I was so religious. So I had this fight inside me about what was right what was wrong what I had been told and what I felt.”

There are many questions from the crowd. This Aké audience is a particularly quiet one. It is as though a very fragile bubble is being passed around from person to person and the audience is being careful so that it does not burst.

About religion, Imani says “I realise that I don’t need a religion to identify myself as a person. What matters is how you treat the people around you for me the biggest sin is to hurt another human being.”

Another person asks about how female people expect her to be for being transgender and how she deals with the pressure.

She answers and explains that some transgender people have pressure to be as female as they can so that they can convince other people that they’re really women. They end up doing too much makeup and trying to live up to the standards of what society defines a woman as for acceptance.

She says that she doesn’t need to have wide hips or a huge backside to be woman.

About privileges on being born male and lightskin she says “I really believe that it is such a big privilege to be woman in Angola because women are so empowered. Women are strong and are made to believe that they can do anything. Girls are told to study their books.”

She is asked why she had to go as far as the transition, why she didn’t just remain a gay man instead of going through the whole process of changing.

She says that what we first have to do is check the many effeminate men and ask them if they are happy with being effeminate. Or if they want to change to women. She talks about some of her gay friends who are happy with being gay men. She says they’re gay and happy to remain men.

On how she relates with the trans community, Imani says she is the spokesperson of a community that works with such rights. She was approached by such community to be their spokesperson and she took it up.

“When there’s phobia. It’s because people are scared of what they don’t know.”

She goes further to say that respect is the most important thing. Teach gays and transgenders to love and respect themselves, to love and respect others. Then they will get the love and respect because in life, you give what you get.

She also speaks about the difference between gender identity and sexual orientation.

“Gender identity is one thing. Sexual orientation is one thing. How I feel about my gender is different from who I have feelings for.”

She explains that you can be a transgender man or woman and still be attracted women or men.

“I didn’t wake up one day and say I want to be barbie. Nobody told me to wear lipstick. And nobody told me to wear a dress. This is how I felt.”

On the surgical process of changing genders. She talks about how impatient transgenders can get with the process.

“You have to be patient through the process of changing. You have to be patient and know that you will get there.”

Someone asks her about her sexual relation with men, if her transition is complete yet and if she has wild orgasms with the men that she gets sexual with.

“I feel like I was born this way. And I thank my doctors everyday ” she answers simply. And the crowd laughs.

When she talks about motherhood, she says “I believe in marriage. It was never part of my dreams to have a child. I don’t feel like I need a child to be complete. Some people tell me that would change when I meet the right person. But I just don’t feel like I need children to complete.”

A man asks about how long it takes for her to tell the men that she goes on dates with about her history.

She says that it depends on how serious things have gotten. But that respect is always the most important thing in her dealings.

It is a very enlightening session and Dr. Sóyínká and LS thank her for her time and LS jokes about how this Aké audience is probably the most quiet and gentle one that she has ever witnessed.

Imani Da Silva is courteous and lovely as she exits the stage.

In Memoriam: Fiyinfoluwa Onarinde (1984 – 2015)

I first “met” Fiyin Onarinde one day in April, 2014, when I called to tell him, in Lagos, that I had once occupied the Fulbright FLTA role that he had by then being selected to fill at my old university. His supervisor, the director of the SIUE International Programmes Office, had sent me a mail and asked me to talk to him, answer some of his questions, and generally make him comfortable about travelling to the US for a new experience. We talked for a while, and he promised to call me back, which he did.

He eventually went to SIUE to become one of the memorable Fulbright FLTAs at the Department of Foreign Languages where he taught Yorùbá for two semesters, and made lots of friends. While he was there, we kept in touch regularly, and got feedback from his colleagues, who saw him as a kind and sensitive soul. Later that year, I got a request from him to write an introduction to his book of poems which he had been trying to publish. It was a heartwarming request, which I immediately jumped at. You can read the introduction here, on his Facebook page. The book was published in February 2015.

Fiyin is dead now.

I heard the sad news last week through the same person who had first introduced me to him (who is now based in Ghana, who also heard the news from the university). After his Fulbright year, Fiyinfoluwa had moved from Southern Illinois University in Edwardsville to SIU Carbondale to begin a graduate programme. We lost contact for a while, and connected briefly in July while I was in the US. He had wanted to meet, and so did I. We scheduled a meeting, but it didn’t come through, and I haven’t heard from him since. Nobody knows the cause of his death, yet, but foul play has been ruled out, and an autopsy is pending. He was 31 years old, born on Apr 24, 1984, and died on October 18, 2015.

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In this picture, he’s reading to the daughter of his host parent. (Photo: Facebook)

The little I know about him show him to be a kind, sensitive, creative, and decent young man. Our Facebook messages were intermittent, but when we talked, we shared ideas about foreign language teaching, poetry, and the university culture in general. I regret not having met him in person, but the outpouring of condolences from those who did confirms that he made quite a significant impact on those who called him friend. His colleagues and supervisors had only nice things to say about him. He is survived by his parents, and a wife, Busola Asaolu Onarinde.

The SIUE African Student Association is holding a memorial service for him on Friday, November 6 at 4:30 at the Center for Spirituality and Sustainability. An online memorial has also been opened for him here.

His new book, Market Parliament and Other Poems can be purchased on Amazon.

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