Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
A Nation's Identity Crisis
By Reuben Abati
You may not have noticed it: Nigeria is suffering from an identity crisis imposed on it in part by an emergent generation of irreverent and creative young Nigerians who are revising old norms and patterns. And for me nothing demonstrates this more frontally than the gradual change of the name of the country.
When Flora Shaw, Lord Lugard's consort came up with the name, Nigeria in 1914, she meant to define the new country by the strategic importance of the Niger River. And indeed, River Niger used to be as important to this country as the Nile was/is to Egypt. We grew up as school children imagining stories about how Lugard in one special romantic moment, asked his mistress to have the honour of naming a new country in Africa. Something like: "Hello, sweetheart, what name would you rather give the new country that I am creating?"
"Let me give it a thought? ....Awright, how about Ni-ge-ria darling?"
"That would do. That would do. How thoughtful, my fair lady? You are forever so dependable"
And the name stuck and it has become our history and identity. But these days, the name Nigeria is gradually being replaced by so many variants, that I am afraid a new set of Nigerians may in the immediate future not even know the correct spelling of the name of their country. For these Nigerians whose lives revolve mostly around the internet and the blogosphere, the name Nigeria has been thrown out of the window. Our dear country is now "naija" or "nija". What happened to the "-eria" that Ms Shaw must have thoughtfully included? The new referents for Nigeria are now creeping into writings, conversations, and internet discourse. I am beaten flat by the increasing re-writing of the country's name not only as naija or nija, but consider this: "9ja". Or this other name for Nigeria: "gidi". There is even a television programme that is titled "Nigerzie". In addiiton, Etisalat, a telecom company has since adopted a marketing platform that is titled: "0809ja." Such mainstreaming of these new labels is alarming.
This obviously is the age of abbreviations. The emerging young generation lacks the discipline or the patience to write complete sentences or think through a subject to its logical end. It is a generation in a hurry, it feels the constraints of space so much, it has to reduce everything to manageable, cryptic forms. This is what the e-mail and text message culture has done to the popular consciousness. Older generations of Nigerians brought up on a culture of correctness and compeleteness may never get used to the re-writing of Nigeria as "9ja". Language is mutatory, but referring to the motherland or the fatherland in slang terms may point to a certain meaninglessness or alienation.
What's in a name? In Africa, names are utilitarian constructs not merely labels. Even among the Ijaw where people bear such unique names as University, Conference, FEDECO, Manager, Heineken, Education, Polo, Boyloaf, Bread, College, Summit, Aeroplane, Bicycle, Internet - there is a much deeper sense to the names. But the name Nigeria means nothing to many young Nigerians. They have no reason to respect the sanctity of the name. They don't know Flora Shaw or Lord Lugard, and even if they do, they are likely to say as Ogaga Ifowodo does in an unforgettable poem: "God Punish you, Lord Lugard." Eedris Abdulakarim summarises the concern of young Nigerians in one of his songs when he declared: "Nigeria jagajaga, everything scata, scata"
The post-modernist, deconstructive temper of emergent youth culture is even more manifest in the cynical stripping to the bones character of today's Nigerian hip-hop. It is marked by a Grunge character that shouts: non-meaning and alienation. On my way to Rutam House the other day, I listened at mid-day to a continuous stream of old musical numbers from 93.7 Radio FM. Soulful, meaningful tunes of Felix Lebarty, Chris Okotie (as he then was), Mandy Ojugbana, Christy Essien-Igbokwe, Onyeka Onwenu, Sony Okosun, Alex O, Ras Kimono, Majek Fashek, Evi Edna-Ogoli, Bongos Ikwue, Veno Marioghae, Uche Ibeto, Dora Ifudu, Mike Okri, Dizzy K. Falola, and Tina Onwudiwe. Onyeka Onwenu sang; "One love, keep us together". Veno Marioghae sang: "Nigeria Go Survive". Even in the romantic offerings like Chris Okotie's "I need someone, give me your love", or Felix Lebarty's "Ifeoma, Ifeoma, I want to marry you, give me your love" and Stella Monye's "Oko mi ye, duro ti mi o", or Tina Onwudiwe's award-winning "Asiko lo laye". there was so much meaning and polish.
This was in the 80s. That generation which sang music under its real names, not abbreviations or slangs, was continuing, after the fashion of T.S. Eliot's description of "Tradition and the Individual Talent", a pattern of meaning that dates back to traditional African musicians and all the musicians that succeeded them: S. B. Bakare, Victor Olaiya, Fela Anikulapo-Kuti, Sunny Ade, Ebenezer Obey, Dan Maraya of Jos, Osita Osadebey, Ayinla Omowura, Victor Uwaifo, Geraldo Pino, Rex Lawson, I. K. Dairo, Haruna Ishola, Yusuf Olatunji, Inyang Henshaw, Tunji Oyelana, Bobby Benson, Tunde Nightingale, and even the later ones: Shina Peters, Dele Abiodun, Y.K. Ajao, Ayinde Barrister, Kollington Ayinla, Batile Alake, Sir Warrior, Moroccco Nwa Maduko, Orlando Owoh, Salawa Abeni, KWAM I (Arabambi 1 and please include his disciples- Wasiu Alabi Pasuma et al), Oliver de Coque (Importer and Exporter...), Ayefele, Atorise .... But there has been a terrible crisis in the construction of music. The children, grandchildren and great grandchildren of these ancestors have changed the face and identity of Nigerian music. As a rule, gospel musicians, given the nature of their form, sing meaningful lyrics, but the airwaves these days have been taken over by the children of "gidi","naija", "nija", "nigerzie" and "9ja". I listen to them too, but everyday, I struggle to make meaning out of their lyrics.
Music is about sense, sound, shape and skills. But there is an on-going deficit in all other aspects except sound. So much sound is being produced in Nigeria, but there is very little sense, shape and skills. They call it hip-hop. They try to imitate Western hip pop stars. They even dress like them. The boys don't wear trousers on their waists: the new thing is called "sagging", somewhere below the waist it looks as if the trouser is about to fall off. The women are struggling to expose strategic flesh as Janet Jackson once did. The boys and the girls are cloaked in outlandish jewellery and their prime heroes are Ja-Rule, Lil'Wayne, Fat Joe, P. Diddy, 50 Cents, Ronz Brown, Chris Brown, Sean Kingston, Nas, Juelz Santana, Akon, Young Jeezy, Mike Jones, T-Pain, F.L.O-RIDA, Will.I.am, Beyonce, Rihanna, Ciara, Keri Hilson, Jay-Z, Ace hood, Rick Ross, Birdman, Busta Rhymes, Cassidy, Chamillionaire, Soulja Boy, Young Joc, Kanye West, R. Kelly, Kevin Rudolph, T.I.P-king of the South, Ludacris, Plies-The real goon, The Game, Young Rox, Flow killa, Osmosis (2 sick), Flow-ssik, Raprince, Bionic, Fabulous, Jadakiss, Nas, Swiss Beatz, Dj Khaled, Maze, Yung Buck, Maino, MoBB Deep, Lloyd Banks, Olivia, Lady Gaga... Well, God Almighty, we are in your hands.
And so the most impactful musicians in Nigeria today, the ones who rule the party include the following: D'Banj, MI, Mode Nine, Sauce kid, Naeto C, Sasha, Ikechukwu, 9ice, Bouqui, Mo'cheddah, Teeto, P-square, Don-jazzy, Wande Coal, 2-face, Faze, Black Face, Dr. Sid, D'prince, K-Switch, Timaya, Dj-Zeez, Dj Neptune, Banky w., Big bamo, Art quake, Bigiano, Durella, Eldee, Kelly Hansome, Lord of Ajasa, M.P., Terry tha rapman, Weird MC, Y.Q., Da grin, kel, Roof-top Mcs, Pype, Niga Raw, Ghetto p., Kaka, Kaha, Terry G, Ill Bliss, Zulezoo, Pipe, Dj Jimmy jatt, X-project, Konga, Gino, Morachi... Well, the Lord is God. These are Nigerian children who were given proper names by their parents. Ikechukwu bears his real name. But who are these other ones who have since abandoned their proper names? For example, 9ice's real name is Abolore Akande, (what a fine name!), Tu face (Innocent Idibia), Sauce Kid (Babalola Falemi), D'Banj (Dapo Oyebanjo), Banky w. (Bankole Willington), P-Square (Peter and Paul), MI (Jude Abaga), Timaya (Enetimi Alfred Odom), Sasha (Yetunde Alabi), Weird MC (Adesola Idowu). But why such strange names? They don't sing. They rap. Most of them don't play instruments, they use synthetic piano.
At public functions, they mime. They are not artists, they perform. They are not necessarily composers, they dance. The more terrible ones can't even sing a correct musical note. They talk. And they are all businessmen and women. They are more interested in commerce and self-advertisement, name recognition, brand extension and memory recall! They want a name that sells, not some culturally conditioned name that is tied down to culture and geography. But the strange thing is that they are so successful. Nollywood has projected Nigeria, the next big revelations are in hip hop.
Despite the identity crisis and the moral turpitude that we find in Nigeria's contemporary hip-hop, the truth is that it is a brand of music that sells. Nigeria's hip hop is bringing the country so much international recognition. All those strange names are household names across the African continent, so real is this that the phrase "collabo" is now part of the vocabulary of the new art. It speaks to an extension of frontiers. In Nigeria, it is now possible to hold a party without playing a single foreign musical track, the great grand children of Nigerian music are belting out purely danceable sounds which excites the young at heart. But the output belongs majorly to the age of meaningless and prurience. The lyrics says it all.
Rooftop MC sings for example: "Ori mi wu o, e lagi mo". This is a very popular song. But all it says is: "my head is swollen, please hit it with a log of wood." X-Project sings: "Lori le o di gonbe (2x), e so fun sisi ologe ko ya faya gbe, ko ya faya gbe, file, gbabe, se be, bobo o ti e le, wo bo nse fe sa hale hale niwaju omoge, ha, lori le odi gonbe, .....sisi ologe ki lo di saya o, so fun mi ki lofe, o wa on fire o...." Now, what does this mean in real terms? But let's go to Naeto C: "kini big deal, kini big deal, sebi sebi we're on fire", or D'Banj: " my sweet potato, I wanna make you wife, I wanna make you my wife o, see I no understand o, cause I dey see well well, but dey say love is blind, see I never thought I will find someone like you that will capture my heart and there will be nothing I can do....". Yes, we are in the age of sweet potato. And so Art quake sings: "E be like fire dey burn my body, e je ki n fera, oru lo n mu mi. Open your hand like say you wan fly away. Ju pa, ju se, ka jo ma sere, alanta, alanta."
And here is Zulezoo, another popular Nigerian musical team: "Daddy o, daddy, daddy wen you go for journey, somebody enter for mummy's house, person sit down for mummy bed, person push mummy, mummy push person, mummy fall for bed yakata, daddy, o daddy, the man jus dey do kerewa kerewa...kerewa ke" And Dj-Zeez: "ori e o 4 ka sibe, ori e o 4 ka sibe, 4 ka sibe, 4 ka sibe". And MI: "Anoti, anoti, anoti ti, anoti titi." And Konga: "Baby konga so konga, di konga, ileke konga, ju pa pa, ju pa, konga, ju pa pa, ju pa, sibe".. And 9ice: "gongo a so, kutupu a wu, eni a de ee, aji se bi oyo laari; oyo o se bi baba enikan, kan, i be double now, aye n lo, a mi to o, gongo a so, oti so o, e wo le e wo enu oko..." Or Tony Tetuila: "U don hit my car, oyinbo repete, u don hit my car o". Or Weird MC: "Sola lo ni jo, lyrics lori gangan, awa lo ni jo". Sheer drivel. So much sound, little sense. Is this the future? Maybe not.
Most of the music being produced now will not be listenable in another five years and this perhaps is the certain fate of commercial art that is driven by branding, show and cash. But we should be grateful all the same for the music, coming out of Nigeria also at this time in the soul, gospel, hip, hop genre: the music that is of Femi Anikulapo-Kuti, Lagbaja, Asa (there is fire on the mountain/and no one seems to be on the run/ there is fire on the mountain now..."), Ara, Sam Okposo, Dare, Sunny Neji, Infinity (now a broken up team), African China, Alariwo of Afrika.... We suffer nonetheless in music as in the national nomenclature, an identity crisis. A country's character is indexed into its arts and culture, eternal purveyors of tones and modes. Nigerian youths now sing of broken heads, raw sex, uselessness and raw, aspirational emotionalism. A sign of the times? Yes, I guess.
I find further justification in the national anthem, many versions of which now exist. I grew up in this same country knowing only one way of singing the national anthem: from "Nigeria we hail thee" to "Arise o Compatriots". The singing of the national anthem is supposed to be a solemn moment. Arms clasped by the side, a straight posture, and the mind strictly focussed on the ideals of patriotism and nationalism. Stillness. Nobody moves. And the national song is rendered in an unchanging format. But not so any longer. There are so many versions of the Nigerian national anthem these days. Same lyrics but different musical rhythms. I have heard the national anthem sung in juju, in fuji, in hip hop, in Ishan's igbagbolemini, in acapella mode, even reggae. I attended an ocassion once, the rendition of the national music was so enthralling, people started dancing. Even the photographers and cameramen danced with their cameras. For me that was the ultimate expression of the people's cynicism. The prevalent mood is as expressed by Dj-Zeez: "ori e 4 ka sibe, 4 ka sibe": an epigrammatic, onomatopoeic, market-driven diminution of language as vehicle and sign. What kind of people are we? A dancing nation? Dancing and writing away our frustrations and caring little about sense, in this country that is now known as "naija", "nija", "9ja", "nigerzie," "gidi"?
The trial of Reuben Abati by Jude Fashagba
I had read a response to Reuben Abati’s article ‘A nation’s Identity Crisis’ published in the Guardian and written by one of Nigeria’s hip-hop musicians who goes by the name ‘Banky W’ on Facebook before I read the article itself. However, the decision to react to it was already taken; I had to read your piece to put my work in perspective.
Permit my précis, but I broke your points to a few points; the death or killing of national symbols by the youth, a culture of abbreviations, ‘poor quality’ (or in some cases foul) lyrics in hip-hop songs, and a wholesome importation of the foreign hip-hop culture.
I hope you find time to read Banky W’s response which is on the webpage http://www.facebook.com/note.php?note_id=107335169088&id=21807323062&ref=nfI found it interesting. He accuses you one, of misunderstanding his generation and indeed their symbols, of poor research into the origin of the abbreviations that you condemn, of critising an art you have not taken time to study, of trivialising it as only a ‘business’
Furthermore, you stand accused of praising the older generation, just for its ‘oldness’ even when (as he feels) it is guilty of everything you have accused the new of. Implying that your affiliation to the old is cultural, and not evidential.
Then there is the bit about names. Should there be a difference between stage names, brands and ‘real names’ ? To use your own words ‘what is in a name’?
Having listened to the case against you, I think it is salient to ask a few questions. One, what is the origin of these dying national symbols; two, how relevant are they in our national life and three, if indeed they still represent our current hopes and aspirations. You, Dr. Abati described graphically how Mrs. Lugard could have come about the name Nigeria. Probably in their bedroom. Named after Africa’s second largest river. Niger-area they said, to commit what you seem to have called the (‘mortal sin’ of abbreviation), Nigeria.
The truth is that while a good number of European countries are named after their people, their languages or their cultures, African countries are named after rivers and mountains. Who has heard of River England or Mount France? Cameroun however is named after a mountain, Congo after a river and Lake Victoria after the Queen of England.
Why is Spain not an acronym of Catalonia and Basque and called Catasque, like Tanzania is for Tanganyika and Zanzibar? The Niger River is called Kogi and Kwara in some local areas, but some ‘foreign discoverer’ named it Niger and by extension my country. Don’t misunderstand me, I love my country but I hate its symbols. Our colours are green and white representing agriculture and peace. Where is the agriculture? Where is the peace? Are they not alongside electricity the three most elusive things in the country?
And now that we have darkness, 419, oil and bloodshed in the Niger delta as our gross national product, it should be sensible to change our flag to red for blood and black for darkness and oil.
I have seen the American flag and indeed the elements of the flag redone in creative ways and heard their national anthem sung in slow, mid and fast tempo, so I have no reason to complain about mine being sung anyway. Instead, I praise the people who in spite of the charred and unimpressive present opportunities and the irrelevance of the basis of these national symbols, still found ways to give them new meaning and revive them.
Who named the Naira? What is the origin of the word? What does it mean?
This narrows to the second allegation, a people are who they call themselves. The dictionary calls a name ‘a sound that connotes a meaning’. Why should Banky W take more pride in being called Bankole Wellington? After all, it is his name anyway. You alluded to Fela, once a Ransome-Kuti, later an Anikulapo-Kuti. I could not swap the first name for the other for a zillion dollars, but he did, and he found pleasure in that. I remember this conflict myself. In the letters my late father wrote me while I was in school, he would address me as Fashagba but he would sign as Fasagba. He was my father, but our names were different. Never did he make the mistake. What is in a name?
Is a name more spiritual because somebody put alligator pepper, sugar and salt in your mouth when he pronounced it, as was the culture when we were born? What special circumstances could warrant the naming of a child Manager, University, Okuta or Confidence that would dis-warrant the naming of a person X, W or Eldee? Would I name my son Reuben? Does it not mean the same as Yaro in Hausa? I mean a son.
Is Obey’s name Obe or Obey? Was Okotie Kris or Chris? Where did Felix get Lebarty? Dizzy K? Oliver de Coque?
To say the truth, I know no songs of Banky W, but I was made supremely proud, when taking a one hour boat from Lungi airport to Freetown in Sierra Leone, ninety percent of the songs the deejay played and advertised were made in Nigeria, by these same boys who have braved everything against all odds. Forget the oil, the major export we have is the Nigerian spirit, the attitude of making it against all odds. See how much we have been saved in foreign exchange by the fact that Tuface now sells more that Boys II Men in Nigeria, and Nollywood saving all the sums that hitherto went to Bollywood and Hollywood? True some of the songs and films may be close to rubbish, but to use Fela as an example of morality was excessive. True, some of these boys say some that older musicians only mimed, but I was so shocked to find Salawa Abeni, Barrister and Kollington on your morality list. In the eighties, these three fuelled by personal feuds put some rubbish on tape.
However, music and poetry have always been on the precipice of free speech and to extend the point, of discovery. Tina Turner’s ‘what’s love got to do with it’ has worse lyrics than D’banj’s ‘you don make me fall in love’.
The other truth Doctor, is that your generalisation has robbed you of a chance to see order in the midst of these chaos. This is evident in your attack on Rooftop MC’s. It rubbished some of the good points you were making. It is clear you have been too dismissive to listen. The parents of yesterday complained about the Okotie’s ,the Onwenu’s and the Tina Turner’s but they are mainstream today. And you used the right phrase; post mordernism.
What do we not import in Nigeria? A country where it is a thing of pride to deride people who cannot speak English, or who speak it with an accent tainted by their mother tongue? We even paid fines for speaking ‘vernacular’ in school. Our own very languages!
We have therefore lost the morality to challenge these kids of wholesome mimicking of Jay Z and Ja-Rule. Even our respected institutions pay a fortune to bring these ‘stars’ to the country.
We hear (and I hope I am wrong) the government is negotiating with and involving Facebook in its rebranding project. Sad. There are enough 24 year olds here, who can extend the frontiers of social networking but they won’t even get a look in.
Dr. Abati, in pronouncing you guilty as charged, I quote an old architect, whose name I cannot remember, ‘symbolism can be esoteric, but it must mean something to ordinary people’.
Jude Fashagba wrote from Lagos.
Banky W.'s response to Mr Reuben Abati's article in The Guardian Newspapers
This is my response to the article entitled "A Nation's Identity Crisis" that recently ran in The Guardian Newspapers. It was written by Dr Reuben Abati, a well respected name in Nigerian Journalism. His original article can be found here: http://www.ngrguardiannews.com/editorial_opinion/article02//indexn2_html?pdate=210609&ptitle=A%20Nation
Please try and read the original article before commenting on my response. As Mr Abati has stated his opinion, I felt it neccessary to state mine. If anything I'm sure both pieces are at least food for thought.
In the immortal words attributed to P.T. Barnum, "I don't care what the newspapers say about me, at least spell my name right." My name IS Banky W, full name being Olubankole Wellington. Not Willington, as you stated in your article entitled "A Nation's Identity Crisis". I read the piece repeatedly, and found that misspelling my name wasn’t the only error. At it's worst, the article seemed like an attempt to discredit and slander an entire generation of artistes and consumers, and at best it came across as having some valid points but being grossly misinformed, prejudiced, and hypocritical; definitely not what we would expect of a highly regarded publication as The Guardian, or from a person in Mr Abati's position.
In the very least, the article warrants a well-informed response. I have little doubt in my mind that it will generate a slew of responses, positive and negative, and as one of the many subjects that was mentioned in the write-up, I feel compelled to voice my opinion (with all due respect) on some of the issues that were raised in your piece. What I'm going to attempt to do is to directly address issues that stood out and resonated most with me.
The writer asked "What's in a name?" and went on to honor a "...generation which sang music under its real names, not abbreviations or slangs"; this would have been a valid point if he had not himself mentioned Greats like King Sunny Ade (real name: Sunday Adeniyi), I.K. Dairo (Isaiah Kehinde Dairo), and Ebenezer Obey (Real name: Ebenezer Remilekun Aremu Olasupo Fabiyi- Wow!!!). We could also point out other legends like Ras Kimono and Majek Fashek as others who, for creative or other reasons, saw it fit to have stage names that happen to differ from what's on their passports. Shortening of full names and/or the crafting of stage names is not something new from our generation of artistes that "lack the discipline or the patience to write complete sentences" as you said; rather, it's the creative right of an artiste to go by whatever moniker he sees fit. And if we want to talk about the names of today, we can highlight a few: Eldee - actually L.D. which stands for Lanre Dabiri, similar to Isaiah Kehinde Dairo's transition to I.K. Dairo. Naeto C and Banky W are simply short forms of their full names. In my case, my father's nickname among his friends is actually Banky as well.
Furthermore, on the topic of Names and abbreviations let's set a few things straight. Nigerzie is actually spelt Nigezie and is not an abbreviation for Nigeria. It's a TV Show, much like Soundcity or Hip TV, except they choose to incorporate "representing Nigeria" in their name. It's like the "United Colors of Bennetton", or DKNY, both companies that choose to represent their locations or origins in their name. Also, for the record, Gidi doesn't mean Nigeria either. It's a term for Lagos... coined from "Las Gidi". And as far as the popular term "Naija" goes, who remembers Shina Peters singing "♫ Naija lo wa yi o o o, wa jo, afro juju lo gb'ode ♫" I hate to point out that our generation did not come up with that term... the "golden age" that you long for did.
As an editorial head of a National Newspaper, you owe it to your public to at least do proper and accurate research before printing an article. The risk in not doing so, is you might unknowingly mislead your readers, and you might actually come across as being ignorant or out of touch. A quick look at all the reference names of artistes and songs mentioned in the article goes to show that the author was sadly way off base in his accusations and examples. For instance, to make a point on how today’s Nigerian artistes lyrics are meaningless and prurient, he referenced the Rooftop MC's song "La Gi Mo". What he failed to realize or crosscheck, is that the said song is probably one of the most meaningful and important songs that have been released in the last few years on the Nigerian Music Scene. The Rooftop MC's are actually a Rap Group that leans to the Gospel or at least Socially Conscious side of music, and their songs always have a positive message. That song itself talks about the errors we make by trying to take God's glory for our success... getting caught up in the limelight and asking God to bring you back to reality to know that HE deserves the praise for where you are.
The author mentioned other songs like D'banj's "Fall in Love", and doesn't realize how hypocritical he sounds by attempting to ridicule some of our most popular love songs. Felix Liberty sang "Ifeoma, ifeoma, I want to marry you", D'banj sang "Omo U don make me fall in love" and Banky W sang "Till my dying day, I'll love you". Barring a difference in musical styling, are these songs not cut from the same cloth? Why can't someone in Mr Abati's position be proud of the fact that at Nigerian and African Weddings nowadays, couples are choosing these songs to mark their first dances instead of previous choices like “Endless Love”? Why can't we appreciate that the days of going to Nigerian Parties and clubs and celebrating to foreign music “all night long” are long gone? Despite these facts, you still see International festivals and concerts being held in Nigeria where the foreign acts are paid 30 to 40 times what some of our biggest stars are allowed to charge.
I have to disagree with the author's views. We are not all one and the same, but we ARE artistes. We may sing, rap, dance, mime, perform, play instruments or whatever else; but we are artistes. And Composers. And musicians. We may not all play the piano or the guitar, but neither does Michael Jackson, arguably the world's greatest artiste/entertainer. That's why he teamed up with producer Quincy Jones to create some of the best music anyone had ever heard. We have our own producers that have shaped Nigerian sound...people like Cobhams Asuquo, Don Jazzy, I.D. Cabasa, Dr Frabz, Tee-Y mix, Eldee, Terry G etc. That list goes on. These music minds are no less credible than those of Mr Abati's time, like the great Laolu Akins.
Far be it from us to claim that we are perfect and flawless in our art... we know that we are still growing and have lots of areas to improve, but the truth of the matter is we have worked very hard to create the industry we have now, and some people choose to criticize and lambaste most of us, instead of helping and teaching us. That is unfair. Yes, some artistes sag their jeans... however, a glance at the pages of THISDAY style or the recently concluded awards shows will show you very clearly that others wear three-piece suits and traditional attires just as proudly, myself included. This music industry that you have very clearly disapproved of has partnered with and given rise to the fashion industry in Nigeria as well. Just ask Designers like Mai, Babs Familusi (Exclamations Couture), the Okunorens, Muyiwa Osindero and countless others. Everything from the t-shirts and jeans rappers wear, to the shoes and suits are made by young Nigerians, where in previous years people preferred to shop in London. The youth-driven industries in Entertainment and Fashion have teamed up to thrust Nigeria into the world's positive spotlight, when for many years our dear country was mostly known for corruption, lack of infrastructure, and security issues.
Our country has not yet given us steady electricity, adequate education, safety from armed robbers or standard healthcare, yet artistes have risen like the Roses that grow from Concrete... and these very artistes love and represent their country proudly on a global stage. This music industry has given hope, jobs and income to countless youth of today. We are Rappers, Singers, Producers, Sound Engineers, Managers, Promoters, Marketing Consultants, Record Label Owners and we will not apologize for making the best of our circumstances; and all this in spite of the fact that we have Marketers that exploit but refuse to pay for our Musical pieces, Royalties and Publishing income that hitherto has been non-existent, a Government that is just now very slowly starting to enforce anti-piracy laws, and Event Organizers that would rather pay 50 Cent One Million US Dollars than give D'banj or P-Square 5 Million Naira.
You were right on some counts. We ARE businessmen and women, and we ARE interested in extending name recognition and brand extension. You were also right in that we look up to people like Jay-Z, who took their music and created multimillion-dollar empires. Since when did ambition and desire to succeed against all odds count against a person’s moral character? Shouldn’t we be encouraged to pay more attention to the business side of “Show Business”? Shouldn’t we want this music industry to provide for our future and the futures of our children?
We know we have a moral responsibility when it comes to our Creative works. Some of us pay more attention to it than others, and there is lots of ground to cover up. But how about a little appreciation and help, instead of trying to tear us down and discredit us? Time will tell whose music will last and become evergreen, but it is not in anyone's place to judge; and for the record, can we just accept that fact that hip hop music is an artform that is probably here to stay... I mean for goodness sake the Grammy's has!! Instead of fighting the change, we should learn to embrace it. I thank God for people like the great Adewale Ayuba that have reached across to our generation to collaborate with, bridge the gap, and help us improve.
We want to learn but your generation has to teach. We want to read but the Government must provide libraries. We want to go to school but the lecturers keep going on strike. We want to travel but previous generations messed up so they won’t give out visas. Most of prefer having our own live bands but the income needed to support that is not forthcoming.
You speak of meaninglessness and prurience, identity crisis and moral turpitude. You praise Legends like Fela Anikulakpo-Kuti and you ridicule us. 9ice does not drink or smoke. eLDee is married to one wife. Olu Maintain does not drink. Naeto C is currently obtaining his Masters’ degree in England. The ironic thing is, we look up to and praise your generation too. You seem to forget that Baba Fela had 27 wives, smoked marijuana in public, was himself half naked at shows (as well as the women around him) and allegedly died of HIV. However we look past what some may consider shortcomings and respect and emulate the immense contributions he made to our history. We are in awe of him despite personal choices that some may or may not agree with. All we are asking for is to be appreciated and afforded similar tolerances.
You danced to Shina Peters. Let us dance to our music. And for the record: for every "Anoti" by MI, he has a "Crowd Mentality" or a "Talk about it". For a Naeto C's "Ki Ni Big Deal", he has a "The Devil is a Liar". Just because an artiste uses a particular song to promote his album for commercial reasons, doesn't mean they should be judged on that alone. Anyone that is familiar with the cost of promoting an album (videos, press, etc) would know that you end up making hard decisions in terms of what you have to push and promote, for your best chance at success. I suggest that you buy whole albums and look at the body of work. Listen to the entire CD’s. I think you'll find that more often than not, Nigerian artistes are doing a pretty good job of representing this great Country of Nigeria. Naija Till We Die. Yes Boss.
~ Banky W.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Monday, June 15, 2009
The Girl Whisperer
as published by the Sunday Guardian
of June 14
The Broken Mould
We’ll start this ‘story’ properly by defining what a mould is for those who might not know. It’s what potters and people of similar professions make their casts, shapes, patterns and forms from. You make the mould then pour in the plaster, the clay, molten gold or whatever else you might use to make your shapes and it brings an exact replica of the form of the mould. In that case, you might call the mould the master-copy.
One day, a while back, Sherri, a female who stays continents away and whom I consider very pleasant, wrote of me, “they broke the mould after laspapi” and that set me thinking. What happens when we find the perfect person, that person who meets almost all of our needs and expectations in a partner and we get on like a house on fire, but then someday, for whatever reason, we have to part ways permanently with that person, road leading onto road? What happens if the perfect mould is broken?
Let’s be truthful, the world has basic types of people. Even the Whisperer has categorized women into four main groupings, the Jerry Springer, the Free Spirit, The Girl Next Door and the Thorough Bred. However, these are broad generalizations and even within groups, there is massive individuality. So you meet the perfect partner, the one who laughs at your jokes, who looks at you from across the room and you know without an exchange of words that it is time for you to leave the horrible party both of you made the mistake of attending. What happens to your world if this person leaves, if the mould is broken and cannot be replaced? One might create another mould, some would say. That might be true but it would never be the same. It might be better ...or it might be worse. The idiosyncrasies that come with one partner are rarely duplicated in another. The laughter, the friendship, the way people respond when upset or annoyed, the intimacy; all these things are peculiar to individuals and you cannot teach another to be like the one that went before. It is disrespectful , as a matter of fact, to even try. There are no two people that have the same kind of dentition, not even twins. You find someone who’s like your mould and yet, there’s something missing. Maybe laughter that goes on a bit too long or is a little bit too loud or just has a grating quality that sets your teeth on edge.
The Whisperer asks again, “what do you do when the mould is gone for whatever reason?” The separation might be your fault, the fault of the mould or circumstances beyond your control. Yes, life isn’t always fair, so get ready for the curve balls. By an accident of fate, the “perfect partner” has walked out of the door and you know, you just know with a sinking of the heart, “he ain’t coming back this time”.
In retrospect, the Whisperer believes that quite a number of his relationships were with people who looked like a master copy since long gone. It appeared it was a subconscious thing not done with any afore-thought malice. It just happened that a number of subsequent partners looked like a certain female the Whisperer once cared greatly about and who also cared about him. Some would argue that men and women have certain specifications, standards they want partners to meet, whether physical, emotional or intellectual so that might be the reason your partners seem to look the same way. It isn’t always so. It might just be because somewhere deep in your heart, you’re looking to replace the person who rocked your world, anyhow you can.
If the mould is broken, is life over? It would be foolish to set out thinking that life has ended because you cannot continue a relationship. The world as you know it might have entered a new phase but you must look on this as an opportunity to improve the prototype...if you’re lucky.
The world is full of beautiful people and you cannot lie down and die because the pain in your heart is unlike any other that you have felt. An amount of philosophical thinking is needed here and it is that if it was meant to be, it would have been. The Whisperer, once or twice, has lost out on lucrative-appearing contracts unlike any in his profession but he learnt one must have the ability to turn one’s back on these disappointments and move on. Pain paralyses and will make nonsense of your future if you do not let go.
Travel the world, take up new hobbies, and meet interesting people from the North, from Kenya, from Tibet, anywhere. Win a Grammy like Tina Turner after managing to escape from the abusive Ike, be like Cher who continues to re-invent herself generation after generation even though Sonny’s long gone, or like Halle Berry and win an Oscar after your man rejects you in public. It doesn’t matter how you do it, but like the Nike advert goes, “just do it”. Do your best to make a much better mould than what you had before and improve your art.
As an aside, I receive mail from strange men who believe the pictures that accompany the “whispering page” are pictures of the writer. The pictures of the usually attractive women (there have been a few lapses of judgement) on the page are chosen by the staff of the Guardian and not by the Whisperer. The Whisperer is male. And anyway, except you’re brain-dead, just reading a few lines would let you know it was a man writing. So here goes to the men who have offered me homes in Abuja and in Calabar; those pictures are not of the writer.
But I digress. If the mould is broken, you can make a new one, an improved one, cast in stainless steel or made with flawless titanium. The world is a beautiful place and the Whisperer has met many, many beautiful people; women with great hearts and great, great minds, and he faces the future with a huge smile on his face and a jaunty spring in his step and he tells you, as one friend to the other, that you should too.