₦airaland Forum

Ability to commit your thought lucidly defines you as a writer – Chioma Okereke, Commonwealth book prize nominee

Chioma reading a copy of Saturday Mirror Chioma Okereke, author of Bitter Leaf, a novel that tells of the lives of six characters intertwined in an idyllic village that is African in nature but never geographically based, is one of the four Nigerians nominated this year for the Commonwealth First Best Book from Africa Literary Award. She was in the country recently for the launch of Bitter Leaf and spoke with Onukwube Ofoelue at one of the readings of the novel.

Who is Chioma Okereke?
Chioma is just a writer, just a human being. I studied law, but did not practise, so I am a writer.

Do you have a humble beginning story you can share?
Every writer has a humble beginning story, everybody has had a struggle; everybody needs more money. My humble beginning is just one. There are those running the streets, selling chewing gum, for instance. It’s all about perspective. It is a difficult road, a difficult choice to become a writer when you have other avenues you can pursue, like the law. Threading that path comes with a level of humility in itself because it’s so full of nos, so full of rejection. Nevertheless, it helps you build up your inner self.

You left Nigeria at the age of seven. What are your fond memories of it?
My fond memories surround my family and some particular people, some of who crop up in the book, Bitter Leaf. My father has always lived here, so it is not like there was a detachment. So, essentially, my core is Nigerian. Although I had introduced myself as being born in Benin, I do not remember anything at all, just a few people. I was barely six, and even at that time. It has been quite a long time. I am not as young as I look.

When did you start writing?
I think it’s something I have always done unconsciously to some level. I am sure I wrote in schools, whenever I come across people I went to school with they are always telling me about stories I had written. I don’t really kind of remember them, but when I became specifically aware that I was writing poetry was around 1999. I just graduated from the university, and spent a year in New York. When I was there, I went to the New , Cafe, which is a sort of Mecca for spoken word artists. That was where I recognised that what I was doing sounded quite familiar to me. It was then that I actually realised what I was doing. Bitter Leaf is my first book; it’s also my first published book.

Did you have in mind that it was going to make waves when you were writing?
No, you do not even have in mind that you can ever finish writing, let alone making waves. That was never in my expectation during its writing.

Were you happy when you were writing the book, or did you see it as a boring thing?
Of course, you are always happy writing, essentially because it is my debut novel. It was a learning experience. It is like learning how to write and everybody knows you got a notebook and everybody thinks it’s magical or ordained or something. There is a lot you also have to learn, and then there is the editing. So it takes a long time. Therefore, there are moments of joy, moments when you come across a sentence you do not like at all. There are days you write 4,000 words, and there are others, maybe ten days at a stretch when you cannot do anything or you are stuck. However, it is a learning experience. You may think there are those who can write and those who cannot but the fact is that the difference is that the writer goes and gets the pen and writes it down. Everybody has the same thoughts going through their brains all the time - you are watching television or when you are driving a car. Your ability to commit it to a page is what defines you as a writer.

What informed the title of the book?
I was reading a newspaper article saying it was my father’s idea. It was not. The book was called Know things to come for a very long time. There is a passage in it that I took that title from. When I showed the book to my father, he said ‘I don’t really understand the title, and that was what happened to a lot of people - before you read the book, you will not understand that title, until you read and come across the title. It was too vague; people could not really get their mind around it. There was also a time I was speaking to another editor and she said ‘I think you need a stronger title’. So a few days later, I had written where one of the main characters was remembering her childhood, when her mother would make bitter leaf soup.

For some reason, that name stuck with me, maybe because, when you read that passage, you realise that soup is one aspect of it and the other aspect is the bitterness of life. That is what that passage is really about, how life was both bitter and sweet, the struggles people have to go through. When you come to the Nigerian audience, they would immediately think about soup. Nevertheless, the western audience don’t have that connection. Bitter Leaf is something intriguing to them - they want to know more about it when they pick up the book. So it has so many connotations, not just about the soup but it’s about life and its challenges.

Do you like bitter leaf soup?
(Laughs) You could not have called the soup okra- it doesn’t work. Yes, I love bitter leaf soup.

When you learnt your book was nominated among Africa’s best by the Commonwealth, how did you feel?
It’s both surprising, it’s delightful and I would say that there was something quite nice about it because I am based in the UK. The book isn’t necessarily based in Africa; it is a fiction of place. For me, I was very touched that it was recognised as part of the books that were coming from Africa. There is the perception that books coming from Africa have to be in a certain way. It was encouraging for me that the door is opening and there is less constraints on African literature.

How did you feel knowing that someone else from eastern Nigeria had won that prize before?
Someone mentioned it at the launch that, perhaps, it was a good thing that they are giving me that which had already been won by Chimamanda. But I think it is irrelevant who has been nominated in the past or those who won it in the past - being nominated at all is an amazing thing to me. It is one of those things that make you think, ‘oh, I can do this! You never know how solitary the writing process is, just you and your computer. You never know whether anyone is going to like it or read it. It’s difficult getting people engaged with your work. So when people start responding, you are a little bit taken aback. You want it to happen but you are kind of surprised when it does.

If you are invited to serve as a political office holder in Nigeria, do you think you will make a difference?
I don’t think I will be called. It’s the people who will make a difference who will be called. Nobody would think I am qualified, what would make anyone think I am qualified to become a politician?

What if you are appointed into a ministry?
Who is going to appoint Chioma Okereke into a ministry?

Who nominated Chioma Okereke’s book?
My publishers did. They are not going to appoint me into a ministry (laughs). That is not one of my protectorates, so let us not waste time on it.

In what ways would you want the numerous negative stories about Nigeria to be corrected?
Unfortunately, we live in a very sensationalist society so it rings very loudly for everyone of those 419 stories. There have been profound positive changes in the country but you never get to see it. The message is that everybody is lazy, everybody is stealing, it is one of those things you come back and know are on ground. So those that know know that things are changing. On the same oken, there are certain things that have to change at the core level. Things like power, water. All these things have to change for the leadership to be taken seriously.

How did you support yourself during the time of writing?
I was working but it was part-time. You can’t afford to leave some things. The reality is a part of you, so you have to live in duality. But it is also such a good thing because just simply writing will make you not exist in the world. So by coming in contact with people, your journey to work brings more stuff. But it will be a lovely dream if someone paid me a big pot of money to sit down and write.

How did your parents support you?
There were times when they supported me financially, but the greatest was emotional support. The greatest gift was the belief that I could actually do it. Nigerian parents are always concerned when the child decides and takes the more creative path than a financial one. There is a lot of upsurge that comes with that. There are equally a lot of renowned African writers, musicians, but it is when your own child is the one involved that you get concerned. I think it is a lot of support. If you keep submitting your work and keep hearing no, no, no, after about four times, you may not continue.

What would you say to up and coming writers?
The beauty of writing is that pen and paper are relatively cheap. It’s something you go into thinking that way. If you go into it thinking of finances, then you need another vocation. The core to writing is not about money, it’s a call. It is about expressing yourself in a way that no other medium gives that much satisfaction. It will probably challenge you just to keep writing and to be aware that there are lots of stories to tell - there is not just one Africa, there is not just one voice, there are many voices.




http://nationalmirroronline.net/sunday-mirror/applause/14011.html