For those who have not yet heard it, it is true. For those who have already read about in in one of the many news media outlets out there, I think that this is huge, really huge. It is huge not only because is assures that Akpan becomes an instant millionaire (well, he's a Jesuit priest), it is so because African literature has finally arrived in America. With Chimamanda, Helon Habila, Chris Abani and many others already out there, this Akpanic big bang simply burns the arrival of African literature into American consciousness. Now, let's hope that literary agents and editors will begin to consider our manuscripts seriously.
Be well, and now, good luck in your writing.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Welcome Back!
I duly apologize for not having posted anything, yes, anything, on this blog for more than three months. I, too, hate dormant blogs. The reason for my silence is not really because I had nothing to say, or that nothing was taking place in the world out there. There are, indeed a lot things happening. And I had and still have quite a lot to say. I traveled; I went to see my Mama in Nigeria. Since Nigeria is immersed in the good job of name re-branding, I really don't want to say anything that would vitiate that effort.
The truth, however, is that the moment I landed in Nigeria, I began to lose contact with the world. Most things I have come to regard as obvious, yes, most things I no longer took notice of, suddenly became luxury goods. Take a simple case of turning lights on and off, turning taps (or faucets) on, turning on your computer, googling. All these appeared to have taken place in my past life.
I spent the first night in my brother's apartment in Lagos. He, like many Nigerians, had a standby generator. Actually it shouldn’t be called standby, for it never stood by, it hummed all the time. Since almost all the apartments had "stay-on" generators, the house literally shook with noise. We shouted the whole time in an attempt to make ourselves heard.
I spent four days in Lagos, where I welcomed myself back to Nigeria. Then I traveled to my village where I spent weeks with my Mama. There I was effectively cut off from the rest of the world. Thanks to my world receiver, I was able to hear Dora Akunyilu re-branding Nigeria, telling the world that all was well with Nigeria.
But I'm back. I’m now in my apartment. The sun is shining. I am typing these words. Whichever word I’m not sure about, I right-click on it, then click on “Look up.” It takes me to an on-line dictionary. Goodness. I am here! I feel like crying. I know it might sound naïve, but sometimes I think I don’t deserve this luxury. The luxury of having constant power supply, running water, day and night internet connection. A part of my soul is still in my village, wrapped in wishes. How I wish that village could have water, electric and telephone connections. I could still stay with my mother and be connected with the larger world. That is what I wish the good people of Nigeria, the beautiful, and talented people I left behind in my village.
And by the way, have you heard that my novel, The Trial of Robert Mugabe, is coming out on September 15? Check it out on AMAZON.
Stay tuned.
The truth, however, is that the moment I landed in Nigeria, I began to lose contact with the world. Most things I have come to regard as obvious, yes, most things I no longer took notice of, suddenly became luxury goods. Take a simple case of turning lights on and off, turning taps (or faucets) on, turning on your computer, googling. All these appeared to have taken place in my past life.
I spent the first night in my brother's apartment in Lagos. He, like many Nigerians, had a standby generator. Actually it shouldn’t be called standby, for it never stood by, it hummed all the time. Since almost all the apartments had "stay-on" generators, the house literally shook with noise. We shouted the whole time in an attempt to make ourselves heard.
I spent four days in Lagos, where I welcomed myself back to Nigeria. Then I traveled to my village where I spent weeks with my Mama. There I was effectively cut off from the rest of the world. Thanks to my world receiver, I was able to hear Dora Akunyilu re-branding Nigeria, telling the world that all was well with Nigeria.
But I'm back. I’m now in my apartment. The sun is shining. I am typing these words. Whichever word I’m not sure about, I right-click on it, then click on “Look up.” It takes me to an on-line dictionary. Goodness. I am here! I feel like crying. I know it might sound naïve, but sometimes I think I don’t deserve this luxury. The luxury of having constant power supply, running water, day and night internet connection. A part of my soul is still in my village, wrapped in wishes. How I wish that village could have water, electric and telephone connections. I could still stay with my mother and be connected with the larger world. That is what I wish the good people of Nigeria, the beautiful, and talented people I left behind in my village.
And by the way, have you heard that my novel, The Trial of Robert Mugabe, is coming out on September 15? Check it out on AMAZON.
Stay tuned.
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