Nigerian Female Dramatists: Expression, Resistance, Agency [1 ed.] 0367616106, 9780367616106

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Nigerian Female Dramatists

This book showcases the important, but often understudied, work of Nigerian women playwrights. As in many spheres of life in Nigeria, in literature and other creative arts the voices of men dominate, and the work of women has often been sidelined. However, Nigerian women playwrights have made important contributions to the development of drama in Nigeria, not just by presenting female identities and inequalities but by vigorously intervening in wider social and political issues. This book draws on perspectives from culture, language, politics, theory, orality and literature, to shine a light on the engaged creativity of women playwrights. From the trail blazing but more traditional contributions of Zulu Sofola, through to contemporary postcolonial work by Tess Osonye Onwueme, Julie Okoh, and Sefi Atta, to name just a few, the book shows the rich variety of work being produced by female Nigerian dramatists. This, the first major collection devoted to Nigerian women playwrights, will be an important resource for scholars of African theatre and performance, literature and women’s studies. Bosede Funke Afolayan is an Associate Professor in the Department of English, University of Lagos, Nigeria.

Global Africa

Series Editors: Toyin Falola and Roy Doron

1. Oppression and Resistance in Africa and its Diaspora Kenneth Kalu and Toyin Falola 2. Slavery in the Global Diaspora of Africa Paul Lovejoy 3. Emotions in Muslim Hausa Women’s Fiction Umma Aliyu Musa 4. Yoruba Oral Tradition in Islamic Nigeria A History of DÀDÀKÚÀDÁ Abdul-Rasheed Na’allah 5. Development in Modern Africa Past and Present Perspectives Edited by Martin S. Shanguhyia and Toyin Falola 6. Borders, Sociocultural Encounters and Contestations Southern African experiences in Global view Edited by Christopher Changwe Nshimbi, Inocent Moyo & Jussi Laine 7. Governance and Leadership Institutions in Nigeria Edited by Ernest Toochie Aniche and Toyin Falola 8. African Indigenous Knowledges in a Postcolonial World Essays in Honour of Toyin Falola Edited by Olajumoke Yacob-Haliso, Ngozi Nwogwugwu and Gift Ntiwunka 9. Nigerian Female Dramatists Expression, Resistance, Agency Edited by Bosede Funke Afolayan

Nigerian Female Dramatists Expression, Resistance, Agency

Edited by Bosede Funke Afolayan

First published 2021 by Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN and by Routledge 52 Vanderbilt Avenue, New York, NY 10017 Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business © 2021 selection and editorial matter, Bosede Funke Afolayan; individual chapters, the contributors The right of Bosede Funke Afolayan to be identified as the author of the editorial material, and of the authors for their individual chapters, has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Ademilua-Afolayan, Bosede, editor. Title: Nigerian female dramatists: expression, resistance, agency / edited by Bosede Funke Afolayan. Other titles: Global Africa. Description: Abingdon, Oxon; New York, NY: Routledge, 2021. | Series: Global Africa | Includes bibliographical references and index. Identifiers: LCCN 2020044682 (print) | LCCN 2020044683 (ebook) | ISBN 9780367616106 (hardback) | ISBN 9781003143833 (ebook) Subjects: LCSH: Nigerian drama (English)—Women authors—History and criticism. | Women and literature—Nigeria. Classification: LCC PR9387.3 .N545 2021 (print) | LCC PR9387.3 (ebook) | DDC 822.0099287—dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020044682 LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020044683 ISBN: 978-0-367-61610-6 (hbk) ISBN: 978-1-003-14383-3 (ebk) Typeset in Bembo by KnowledgeWorks Global Ltd.

Tioluwanimi and Rereloluwa Afolayan, my grandchildren, for bringing so much joy.

Contents

Contributors Acknowledgements Introduction

ix xii 1

BOSEDE FUNKE AFOLAYAN

1. The Onye-Nka of African drama: Zulu Sofola and the development of African tragic drama

13

NURAYN FOLA ALIMI

2. Theatricalising precarity: A study of T   ess Onwueme’s No Vacancy!

24

OMOLOLA A. LADELE

3. Navigating morality in the plays of Stella Oyedepo

39

BANKOLE OLUWASEUN WRIGHT

4. Rethinking the female image in Irene Salami’s Sweet Revenge and More than Dancing

52

ELIJAH ADEOLUWA OLUSEGUN

5. Postcolonial women’s drama in Nigeria as cultural intervention

64

AFOLAYAN BOSEDE FUNKE

6. “It’s a short distance from Sontag”: Chinyere Okafor’s New Toyi-Toyi as militant feminism LEKAN BALOGUN

76

viii  Contents

7. Sefi Atta as a dramatist: A study of two plays

90

BOSEDE FUNKE AFOLAYAN

8. “Wedlock of Rage”: Youth restiveness in Zulu Sofola and Bosede Ademilua-Afolayan’s drama

105

LEKAN BALOGUN

9. Language, gender and cultural practices in the plays of two Nigerian female playwrights

120

MOJISOLA SHODIPE

10. Misandry and conspiracy of silence in Zainabu Jallo’s and Tosin Tume’s plays

140

ADEKUNLE M. ADEYEMI

11. Se “Iya” ni’wo yi?: Questioning motherhood in Bosede Ademilua-Afolayan’s drama

155

SAHEED BELLO

12. Orality as a means of projecting authorial vision in Osita Ezenwanebe’s Withered Thrust and Shadows on Arrival

167

MULIKAH ADEYEMI LAWAL

13. The urban woman in an urban space: A study of selected plays of Chidinma Daniel-Inim

178

KEHINDE SAMUEL OLUKAYODE

Index

187

Contributors

Adekunle M. Adeyemi h olds a Master’s degree in English (Literature) from the University of Lagos, Akoka. He had his first degree in English Language from the Ogun State University now Olabisi Onabanjo University, Ago-Iwoye, Ogun State, Nigeria. He is currently in a doctoral programme in English (Literature) at the University of Lagos, Akoka, and teaches English Language and Communication (part-time) at Moshood Abiola Polytechnic, Ojere, Abeokuta, Ogun State. He has also worked as a journalist for two decades. Bankole Wright is currently a Ph.D. student at the Department of English, University of Lagos, Nigeria. He holds an M.A. in English Literature from the same University and a B. A. English from Lagos State University. He is a writer and a professional editor and his research interests include African/diaspora studies with interdisciplinary approaches; drama and film studies; cultural studies; and psychoanalysis. He has written short stories, and poems and essays, some of which won him participation in writing workshops like the Ake Fiction Writing Workshop and Quramo Writing Workshop. As a writer, he is concerned with capturing African sensibilities, especially the psychological impacts of events on characters. Bosede Funke Afolayan is an Associate Professor in the Department of English, University of Lagos, Nigeria. She holds a Ph.D. in English (Comparative drama). Afolayan is also a Commonwealth Post-Doctoral Fellow. Her research interests include comparative drama, women’s studies, diaspora issues, oral traditions in African dramatic literature, political drama and Nollywood studies. Her articles have appeared in reputable international and local journals. She is a reviewer for some international and local journals such NOLA, LARES, Ihafa, and the University of Lagos Journal of Humanities. She is the author of two published plays: Look Back in Gratitude (2013) and Once Upon an Elephant (2015). Once Upon an Elephant was on the long list of the prestigious NLNG Drama prize in 2018. Elijah Adeoluwa Olusegun is currently a Ph.D. student in the Department of English and Writing Studies, University of Western Ontario, Canada.

x  Contributors

He is also Assistant Lecturer in the Department of English, University of Lagos, Nigeria, where he teaches dramatic literature. His research interest covers fields such as postcolonial theory, literary theory and criticism, African literature and American literature. He is a member of the  Canadian Association for Commonwealth Literature and Language Studies (CACLALS), and the Modern Language Association (MLA). Kehinde Samuel Olukayode is a doctoral student at the Department of English University of Lagos, Nigeria. He has an M.A. degree in English Literature. His research interests are dramatic literature and criticism, cultural studies, sociology of literature and film studies. He has also directed several plays. He has attended conferences both locally and internationally where he has presented papers. Lekan Balogun i s a theatre director, award-winning playwright and scholar, with a Ph.D. in Global Shakespeare (Theatrical & Filmic Adaptation & Appropriation and Intercultural Performance) from the Victoria University of Wellington, New Zealand. He was awarded Bachelor of Arts and Master of Arts (Distinction) in Theatre Arts, by the University of Lagos, Akoka, Department of Creative Arts, where he taught Postcolonial Dramaturgies, Creative Writing and Performance Aesthetics, before joining the Centre for Theatre, Dance and Performance Studies (CTDPS), University of Cape Town, South Africa as a postdoctoral fellow on the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation funded project, “Reimagining Tragedy in Africa and the Global South” (RETAGS). Mojisola Shodipe  obtained her doctorate degree in English (Language) from the Department of English, University of Lagos, Nigeria, where she currently teaches. Her research interests include sociolinguistics, cultural studies, language of film, translation studies, and digital media studies. She has edited LARES (a journal of English and Literary Studies) since 2015 and has published articles in national and international academic journals. Mulikah Adeyemi Lawal is Assistant Lecturer and a doctoral student at the Department of English, University of Lagos where she teaches literature courses to undergraduates. Her research interests include African literature, oral literature, and popular culture. Her Ph.D. thesis is on the examination of the aesthetics of Yoruba court poetry and its viability in conflict resolution and psychotherapy. She has attended a number of conferences both locally and internationally. Some of her papers have been published or are awaiting publication in reputed journals. Nurayn Fola Alimi teaches African drama, African American Literature and Literary Theory and Criticism in the Department of English, University of Lagos where he was awarded his Ph.D. in 2015. His areas of research interest cut across African American literature, African drama and performance and African diaspora studies. He has presented papers in

Contributors xi

these areas of studies at local and international conferences as a member of different literary associations. Omolola A. Ladele is currently Associate Professor of English in the Department of English, Lagos State University, Nigeria where she teaches several graduate and undergraduate level courses in English. Her research interests in the last three decades span: Postcolonial African Women’s literature as well as Gender and Sexuality Studies. She has presented academic papers at international and local conferences in North America, Europe, the Middle East and Nigeria. Many of these have appeared in peer-reviewed local and international journals. She is manuscript reviewer of local and international journals and she is currently co-editor of LAPES –the LASU Papers in English Journal. Saheed Bello is Lecturer at the Department of Creative Arts, University of Lagos, Nigeria. His Ph.D. thesis on Film Adaptation was completed in 2018 at the same department. He is a winner of the 2020-2021 Africa Multiple Cluster of Excellence Research Fellowship at the University of Bayreuth, Germany. His areas of research interest are Nigerian drama and film, language and knowledge construction, Yoruba culture and Orunmila philosophy.

Acknowledgements

The idea for this book came while I was on the one-year sabbatical leave at the Lagos State University, LASU, Ojo, in the 2015-2016 academic session. Therefore, I am particularly grateful to the management of the University of Lagos, UNILAG, for granting the leave. I thank my colleagues at LASU for the wonderful time I had while I was there. I am grateful to all the contributors to this collection, scholars who took time to write their papers and who submitted their works for peer review. I appreciate them for believing in the project. Also, I want to thank the following people for going through the manuscripts and making useful comments that improved the quality of the papers: Drs Lekan Balogun and Solomon Azumurana, Messrs Kunle Adeyemi, Deji Adedara and Elijah Adeoluwa Olusegun. I am indebted to Professor Toyin Falola, a distinguished scholar and prolific writer for showing the way. I thank my family and appreciate them for their love, support and encouragement while this work was in progress. Finally, I wish to express my gratitude to God Almighty for giving me life and strength to complete the book project. Bosede Funke Afolayan Lagos, Nigeria.

Introduction Of women’s invisibility, patriarchy and resistance: An overview of women dramatists in Nigeria Bosede Funke Afolayan The peculiarities of the Nigerian female dramatists and her creativity need to be studied. This is especially so because being a woman in a male-dominated society like Nigeria has its drawbacks. A woman has been socialised from birth and raised to be a wife and a mother; to be a “second fiddle.” She is seen as a producer and a nurturer to perpetrate and prolong the male lineage. Burdened with such responsibility, the prospect of writing may be far from her lists. Traditional Nigerian societies have roles differentiations for both men and women. In Yorubaland, for example, women held traditional political posts such as Iyalode or Iyaloja and Iya Egbe and could inherit property from their fathers (Oluwole 5). As a matter of fact, Oyewumi avers that traditional Yoruba society did not arrange reality into man or woman, rather it did in terms of seniority. Therefore, there was no gender oppression (Oyewumi 1997, xiii). Women were not so treated in most Nigerian culture like the Igbos (Ezeigbo xv) while Amadiume claims that in Igbo culture some daughters can assume the role of sons. Whatever may be the case, Ama Ata Aidoo is right to claim that the history of women is one of “sexist tragedy” (qtd in Evwierhoma 18). In the history of theatre practice in Nigeria, women like men have their own traditional gods. Nigerian drama, like in the west, developed from ancestral worship. While men have the Ogun and Sango, women have the Oya, Osun and Yemoja. Just as there were priests for these gods, there were priestesses for the goddesses. In fact, Balogun (3) in “Gender Crises in Yoruba Theatre: An Aftermath of Western Experience” claims that even in Egungun (Ancestral) worship in Ijebu-Ode, Nigeria, a woman called Iya Agan moved around with the Egungun even as far as the grove/shrine. Thus, the way women were and are still valued differ from one region to another in Nigeria. In the age of the Theatre Travelling Troupes of Nigeria, the stronger troupes were owned and directed by men. These male gladiators include Hubert Ogunde, Duro Ladipo, Moses Olaiya (Baba Sala), Oyin Adejobi and Ishola Ogunsola. Ebun Clark in her seminal book entitled Hubert Ogunde: The Making of Nigeria Theatre records that it was a herculean task to get women on stage. According to her, Ogunde needed women actors, so he advertised.

2  Bosede Funke Afolayan

However, no one responded to the advertisement because of the societal attitude to actresses. Nobody wanted his/her child as an actress because the society viewed them as “women of easy virtues,” prostitutes and loose women (Clark 3). Acting on this knowledge, Ogunde advertised for secretaries and receptionists and many women turned up for the interview because those jobs to the society were respectable. To ensure stability for his troupe, he promptly married them in order to retain their services. Thus, he was able to have actresses. This is the same story with Duro Ladipo and the others. The significant roles of female theatre troupes’ practitioners such as Adunni Oluwole and Funmilayo Ranco are largely omitted in the discourse on the practitioners of the age. These were two women who contributed to the age by owning their own troupes. I recall Funmilayo Ranco’s performances in my secondary school, St. Mary’s Girls’ Grammar School, Ikole-Ekiti. She went from Town Halls to different school halls performing at Saturday Nights in the 70s and 80s just like Duro Ladipo. This omission is highly regrettable since women have always been there to contribute their quota to the evolution of Nigerian drama/theatre. With the advent of colonisation, more men than women had access to education and the writing culture. Women stayed at home as wives, mothers, maids and cooks. Ezeigbo (79) avers that education and the art of writing were first made available to the male. Women became not only marginalised but intimidated into silence. The few women who went to school learnt to be teachers of Home Economics or Seamstresses. Thus, restricting the levels they could attain for, while their education merely complemented the males. Modern Nigerian dramatic literature written in English started with male writers such as James Ene Henshaw, Wole Soyinka, J. P. Clark and Ola Rotimi. Zulu Sofola was the only woman who joined the group. The four of them were classified by Yemi Ogunbiyi in Drama and Theatre in Nigeria as the first-generation dramatists because they shared similar attitude to the issue of the use of gods in their art, they have tragic visions and were basically traditionalists in their approach. For a very long time, Sofola was the only female playwright. She is regarded as the pioneer female dramatist and a “foremother of Nigerian female dramatist” (Evwierhoma 157–158). Udengwu (102) in Contemporary Nigerian Playwrights: A Study in Ideology and Themes contends that “theatre was for a long time a no go area for women among the cultures of the world, not because women lack intellectual or artistic resources to engage in the expressive art of theatre, but because they were politically and culturally banned to venture there.” Like many other spheres of life in Nigeria, especially in Literature and other creative arts, female participation and concerns have existed mainly on the fringes. Many Nigerian writers/playwrights and actors have not just been mainly men but have made issues of masculine concerns dominant subjects and ideas. Either thematically or stylistically, feminine ideas and ideologies have not been mainstreamed and, therefore, have not been given the deservedly serious interrogations and interpretation. In trying to find answers to

Introduction 3

this marginalisation, Mabel Evwierhoma (2–3) in Female Empowerment and Dramatic Creativity in Nigeria believes that “creativity is seen as a threat to patriarchy; especially where patriarchal norms contribute to the relegation of the woman to the background; and the dramatist seeks to redress this issue through drama. Again, Lihamba (ix) notes that women’s “poor representation in the literary output of Africa” may be due to the fact that they are saddled with too much work such that they have no “time to dream and indulge their imagination for creative works. Women are engaged in childbearing and nurturing which is a full-time job and this seems to take a toll on their time and they have no time left to devote to writing. Although male writers equally complain of the same problem of lack of space and time, the fact remains that they do not have the added problem of keeping the home-front and childbearing (Ezeigbo 84). Drama and dramatic production seem to be the forte of men. The fact is made more obvious by the staggering number of males in the profession. It is, therefore, interesting to research into the factors responsible for this gap and explore the kinds of narrative that women tend to espouse in their plays. Ironically, the book of which this introduction is a part is an attempt to address this imbalance and lacuna in knowledge. It is significant to examine the structures that can enhance women’s participation in writing, staging and producing their plays, thereby presenting the other view – a view from a woman’s perspectives on the female question and the portrayal of the female character. As will be seen in the essays, many of the female writers move from the domestic planes to other contemporary issues in Nigeria. In other words, the claim that women writers only devote attention to family issues is debunked by several essays in this collection because some venture into issues of politics and governance. Nonetheless, there are still essays that take up the family issue because the family is the bedrock and microcosm of the society. Accordingly, for such essays that are devoted to family issues, it can be argued that by taking up family issues they are also indirectly taking up societal issues. Ezeigbo’s (83) comment encapsulates this view aptly: The diversionary and unconvincing argument was that most femaleauthored books discuss personal and domestic issues – marriage, motherhood, childbirth, etc., to the exclusion of the so-called more serious issues like politics, history and philosophy. This opinion, of course, can only be a partial truth, for there are numerous instances of women’s writings that venture into territories beyond personal emotional distress. Indeed, women writers have shown an interest in social and intellectual questions and explored these features in their works. Be that as it may, the point must be clearly made that great literature could be created on any subject from any field of human experience. It depends on the skill and commitment of the writer.

4  Bosede Funke Afolayan

Domestic themes, marriage and marital conflicts may have been the focus of many female writings but they need to tell their own stories, as the stories affect them from their vantage point. Their obligation to their readers and artistry would determine how far their works will go. From the singular trail blazing humble achievements of Zulu Sofola, other women have followed with significant outings. Some of the female writers include Tess Osonye Onweme, Stella Oyedepo, Irene Salami-Agunloye, Julianah ( Julie) Okoh, Tracie Utoh-Ezeajugh and Foluke Ogunleye New and emerging ones include Akachi Adimora-Ezeigbo, Chinyere Okafor, Osita Ezenwanebe, Zainabu Jallo, Ogochukwu Promise, Onyeka Onyekuba/ Iwuchukwu, Bosede Ademilua-Afolayan, Chinyelu Ojukwu, Tosin Tume, Chidinma Daniel-Inim, Bunmi Adedina, Abiola Olubunmi Fasoranti, Pamela Udoka, Julie Umukoro, Folashayo Ogunrinde, Yetunde Akorede, Charity Angya and Regina Ode. More women are embracing the art of writing for the stage because in “choosing to write … the female dramatist is ‘engaged in a radical act’” (Evwierhoma 19). In spite of their followership, female dramatists are still less known than their male counterparts. The male dramatists in Nigeria are well-known and have international stature. They are Wole Soyinka (who won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1986), John Pepper Clark- Bekederemo, Ola Rotimi, Femi Osofisan, Bode Sowande, Kole Omotoso, Olu Obafemi, Rasheed Gbadamosi, Kalu Uka, Ben Tomoloju, Sam Ukala, Ahmed Yerima, Tola Adeniyi, Tunde Fatunde, Nasiru Akanji, Segun Oyekunle and Lekan Balogun among others. These are recognised dramatists nationally and internationally. Most of them are the subjects of full-length book studies, essays, students’ theses and themes for major conferences unlike the female dramatists and their art. Wole Soyinka, for example, has been studied by notable drama critics such as Oyin Ogunba, James Gibbs, Biodun Jeyifo, Michael Etherton, Martin Banham, Jane Plastow, Bernth Lindfors, Tejumola Olaniyan, Obi Maduakor and Chris Dunton. The same cannot be said of women dramatists; thus, there is a dearth of critical works on them. Those available are single studies of each playwright, articles in journals and students’ projects and theses. Only a few of the female names listed above are established, prominent and practising. Many of them are upcoming and barely cutting their teeth in the art of playwriting and production. It is also interesting to note that almost, if not all of these names are at one time or the other lecturers in the Universities or Colleges of Education. This is a significant point in that in teaching the art, they are able to learn the tropes and put theory to practice by writing their own plays. The school environment provides a fertile ground and “the right atmosphere” for the growth of their imagination, and a ready audience as spectators and critics. Many of these female writers are known to have moved away from novel-writing to writing plays. These include Akachi Adimora-Ezeigbo, Ogochukwu Promise and Sefi Atta. Ezeigbo, for instance, functions in almost all the genres but her forte remains the novel where she seems to have published more.

Introduction 5

Female dramatists draw their inspirations from domestic life and they are not ashamed of this. They want to tell their stories by themselves as no one can tell their stories better than them. They believe that a lot of damage has been done through insensitive depictions by male dramatists such as Wole Soyinka’s negative and stereotypical representation of women. Examples abound in Sidi and Sadiku in Lion and the Jewel, Segi in Kongi’s Harvest and Maariya in King Baabu. More examples can be seen in The Strong Breed, Death and the King’s Horseman and in J. P. Clark’s early plays before Wives Revolt. Female writers, therefore, write to counter this lopsided characterisation by creating women in positive light, giving them the centrespread and making them the protagonists instead of being at fringes as it occurs in male narration. Other subjects that engage women writers’ attention include the rights and freedom of women within the framework of what they consider obnoxious cultural practices. This, in turn, gives women a voice where they have been silent and provides them with a platform to criticise gender discrimination. It also allows them to focus on women issues like domestic violence, women’s place in politics, asserting their femaleness, interrogating the challenges they face as women, as well as questioning their invisibility and the issues of female empowerment, identity and dignity. Some like Tess Onwueme have been very ideological and radical as can be seen in The Reign of Wazobia and Tell It to Women. Evwierhoma (121) contends that: “One believes that many of the female dramatists may have taken up their pens as a way of making real to the public the different experiences as wives, mothers, sisters and even concubines.” This point is crucial as the female experiences and culture need to be related by their own selves. Drama, by its very nature is a peculiar art. It is a collaborative art which needs the stage for its full actualisation. There are so many artists and hands involved in presenting a play to the public – from the architect, to the carpenter, to the actors and the actresses, the costume designer, the cosmetologists, the lighting engineer, the director, and the stage-manager among others. All their work will culminate in the essence that is seen on stage as “the play.” Lihamba (x) puts it succinctly in the following way: Although many art and literary forms are conceived, executed and consumed individually, theatre forms are public and private, collective and individual. The play might be engendered through ideas, imagery, issues or personages – in the privacy and solitude of one’s imagination; however, it demands to be collectively executed with input from other relevant artists and publicly exhibited as performance. Many women run away from this time-consuming art because as a director of a play, for instance, one needs to spend long hours doing rehearsals; and this will tell on their matrimonial duties. Thus, many would rather stay in their comfort zone as novelists.

6  Bosede Funke Afolayan

Significantly, publication is a major problem faced by female dramatists in Nigeria. As examined by Iwuchukwu (3–4) in an essay entitled “Nigeria the Challenge of (and for) the Female Playwright,” it is a difficult task for women to publish their plays in Nigeria. Many reasons are adduced for this: first, publishers are only interested in established authors where sales can be easily made. Second, they prefer to publish novels because they are also easily sold unlike plays. Third, there is a high level of poverty that people would prefer to buy food than to buy a play text and four, many people read only for examinations (3–5). Iwuchukwu (3) states that the very nature of drama makes it difficult for plays to be published in Nigeria: “Generally, plays are created for performance and not necessarily for reading, so publishers give more attention to novelists than playwrights.” She contends that many publishers have become mere printers as they will print your book for you at a fee especially if it is not a recommended text for schools. This same view is shared by Osofisan and Adeoti (104). Julie Okoh is quoted by Iwuchukwu as commenting on the publishing problems encountered by female playwrights. Writing from her own personal experience, Julie Okoh maintains: I have never come across any publisher in Nigeria who is willing to publish my work free of charge, and later pay me royalty as it is done elsewhere. I write to communicate to the public. So, how do I achieve this purpose if I lock my manuscripts in the drawers in my library? …. Nigeria publishers are not willing to invest their money in promoting writers, neither is the government offering grants for that purpose …. Marketing books constitutes the biggest discouragement to me as a writer. You spend resources to write a play, you pay to have it staged, you pay to have it published… (qtd in Iwuchukwu 3) Against this backdrop, the present study attempts to fill the gap in dramatic scholarship in Nigeria by presenting essays on Nigerian women playwrights and their works and how they contribute to the development of drama in Nigeria not just by presenting the female identity and inequalities but by vigorously intervening in social and political issues in Nigeria. This study, by focusing on women playwrights, helps to draw attention to the feminine voices in the literary genre of drama and express their hopes for the nation. To do these, the different contributors concentrate on the individual writers’ preoccupations and the formal properties of their works. The book collection consists of 13 chapters of at least 15 pages on selected female Nigerian playwrights. They are critical analyses of the works of female playwrights from different perspectives of culture, language, politics, theory, orality and literature. The book is significant in many ways: it is, as far as I know, the first major collection devoted mainly to Nigerian women playwrights; it is written by scholars working in the university system who teach and write about these authors. Also, it is written by both men and women

Introduction 7

from different perspectives and one can get a near total view of the ideas surrounding the playwrights. It is pertinent to state that there are competing titles of literary examination of female works. Some of them are listed here: 1 Uko, Iniobong I. Gender and Identity in the Works of Osonye Tess Onwueme. Trenton, NJ: Africa World Press, Inc., 2004. Pp 1–305 2 Nwabueze, Emeka (ed.) African Female Playwrights: A Study of Matter and Manner. Enugu: ABIC Books, 2016. Pp 1–452 3 Evwierhoma, Mabel. Issues in Gender and Culture in Nigeria. Lagos: Concept Publications, 2002. Pp 1–134. 4 Evwierhoma, Mabel. Nigerian Feminist Theatre: Essays on Female Axes in Contemporary Nigerian Drama. Allen TX, USA: Wits Publishing Ltd., 2004. It is devoted to the representations of women in both male and female authored texts. Pp 1–200. 5 Otokunefor, Henrietta and Obiageli Nwodo (eds.) Nigerian Female Writers: A Critical Perspective. Lagos: Malthouse Press Limited, 1989. 6 Aston, Elaine and Janelle Reinelt (eds.) Modern British Women Playwrights. Cambridge: University Press, 2000. Pp 1–268. 7 Brown, Lloyd W. Women Writers in Black Africa. Westport, Connecticut, London, England: Greenwood Press, 1981. Pp 1–203. None of the books listed above is focused mainly on female Nigerian playwrights.

The layout The present study is unique; it devotes attention solely to women playwrights in Nigeria, exploring the nature of their art, their penchant for the discussion of the female conditions and other social and political issues in society. In essence, the women do not focus mainly on sexual identity and inequalities but make interventions into political and social issues. The papers also explore their contributions to the development of drama in Nigeria. This collection is a compendium of critical essays meant as secondary reading for undergraduate and postgraduate students and general scholars of Nigerian drama. The book opens with Nurayn Fola Alimi’s essay on Zulu Sofola. This is important since the layout assumes a linear progression from the foremost dramatist to the least known, for now. It is an essay hat correctly situates Sofola as the first published female dramatist in Nigeria whose works are concerned with the society although she is not forceful about feminism or the woman question. She rightly depicts the girl-child as a “potential source of wealth” for her parents in her famous work, Wedlock of the Gods. In Alimi’s treatment of this work, he conceptualises the essential idea of her Enuani people in Delta state of Nigeria as the source of her inspiration. Their culture and metaphysics, according to him, are responsible for the

8  Bosede Funke Afolayan

tragic vision espoused in the play. Her female character had to die when she could have offered her freedom. This has been the grouse of many feminist writers against Sofola. As a matter of fact, Obafemi (212) avers that “some of her plays advocate a return to a past that could reasonably be regarded as decadent, where magic, ritual and a certain over-dose of the tranny of age towers oppressively,” Obafemi (214) enjoins her to move away from what he considers “old school” and embrace contemporary issues so that she could fully impact the younger generation with the advantage of her position. Omolola Ladele’s essay is entitled “Theatricalizing Precarity: A Study of Tess Onwueme’s No Vacancy! She undertakes a detailed study of Onwueme’s dramaturgy from her early plays to the recent ones. She attests to Onwueme as an established writer, known internationally, and perhaps, the best-known female African playwright after Efua Sutherland and Ama Ata Aidoo of Ghana. Quoting Kitiwa Mule, Onwueme is regarded as Africa’s most prolific and most ideological female playwright. Her early works can be seen as a “write back” to Sofola because she is shown on the side of the oppressed not just women. She gives pride of place to the female character. She also moves beyond feminist views by countering the ideas of feminism as seen in her Tell It to Women where she exposes the drawbacks of the ideology. With No Vacancy, Onwueme, according to Ladele moves to the global stage to dramatise issues of neo-colonialism, the impact of multinational corporation and youth unemployment after university education. The trope and concept of precarity is essential to envelope the disillusionment and impoverishment of the South against the sophisticated global North. Ladele submits that Onwueme may be a feminist but she is also revolutionary as she is largely concerned with the condition of the marginalised and exploited whether male or female. Taking a cue from Ladele’s essay, Bankole Wright in his paper focuses on the plays of Irene Salami-Agunloye (popularly known as Irene Salami). Apart from the woman question, Nigerian female dramatists also engage in setting the society on the right moral path. Wright contextualises Salami’s work within the framework of works of male writers like Wole Soyinka, Ola Rotimi and Femi Osofisan whose abiding concern has been to change society from its ills. In the essay, “Navigating Morality in the plays of Irene Salami,” Wright examines the female writers’ role as a moral compass, the conscience of a depraved and corrupt society. He applies the concepts of the superego and the Yoruba philosophical idea of Omoluabi to aid the understanding of the sense of morality he interrogates. He sees the superego as the voice of conscience and infuses it with Yoruba Omoluabi as a product of the ethic of good character as depicted in the characters of Oyedepo’s See and The Dainty and the Dirty. Women writings have been written off as solely concerned with domesticity and women issues. But Elijah Adeolu Olusegun takes up the issue of the stereotypical representation of women in male authored plays and offers Irene Salami’s Sweet Revenge and More than Dancing as models for the positive

Introduction 9

depiction of women. In detail, he shows that it the misrepresentation of women that female writers like Salami tries to rewrite. He documents the misrepresentations in Wole Soyinka, J. P. Clark and early Ola Rotimi’s works while crediting writers such as Femi Osofisan for putting women at the centrespread. He (Olusegun) contends that Salami in her plays asks women to draw strengths from historical female figures who have blaze the trails before them. Her plays show ways by which women can take over power from men in politics as she also tries to show that women are capable of greater and loftier things other than dancing at political gatherings to which men have confined them. Many cultural and traditional practices combine to subjugate women in Nigeria. Such harmful practices include female genital mutilation, child marriage and early pregnancy, widowhood rites, denial of rights to inherit or own property, male child preference and violence against women (Ezeigbo 4–10). Other untoward cultural and societal norms and tradition are ethnic sentiments and religious practices designed to punish women. The last two are the focus of Julie Okoh and Sefi Atta’s in Aisha and The Sentence, respectively, as revealed or argued in Bosede Afolayan’s intervention entitled “Postcolonial Women’s Drama in Nigeria as Cultural Intervention.” She argues that both playwrights employ their art as resonant sites to resist, react, intervene and protest patriarchal practices against women. Conclusively, it is her submission that Okoh’s and Atta’s plays intervene with the hope that there would be change. Still on the influence of feminism on female drama in Nigeria, Lekan Balogun examines the brand of Chinyere Okafor’s preoccupation with the issues of transnational gender and diversity in her play New Toyi working on the play through the lens of Susan Sontag’s idea of disease and pain, Balogun asserts that Okafor is preoccupied with the issue of HIV/AIDS which was at that time in Southern Africa was a metaphor for Africa’s multiple, incessant and incurable problems. According to Balogun, Okafor imbibes the New Toyi which was a song, a dance and a ritual as a healing trope for Africa, insisting that for the ritual to be effective both male and female must support it. Balogun, then, classifies Okafor as a second-generation writer in the same class as male Marxists writers such as Femi Osofisan, Olu Obafemi, Kole Omotosho and Bode Sowande. However, rather than imbibe Marxism as an alternative to the socio-political problems in Africa, it is Balogun’s thesis that she concerns herself with transnational gender, global diversity and education, and that her ritualistic option to Africa’s issues is commendable. Bosede Afolayan’s foray into the art of Sefi Atta’s as a dramatist is the focus of the next chapter. Atta is well-known as a novelist who has recently turned her gaze to playwriting. Afolayan examines her drama through Aristotle’s characterisation of the elements of drama. She finds that Atta has succeeded even though instances of the novelist’s art still impinge on her dramaturgy as depicted in The Engagement and Renovation. It is Afolayan’s contention that Atta comes out with strong female characters who are active, empowered,

10  Bosede Funke Afolayan

positive and defiant. These characters stand against patriarchal structures and get away with it by determining the way they want to live their lives without the encumbrances of male-domination. Her plays are rich and exciting, the plot and characters are authentic and realistic. Afolayan sees her as a fresh voice in the genre of female playwriting in Nigeria. In “Wedlock of Rage: Youth Restiveness in Zulu Sofola and Bosede Ademilua-Afolayan’s Drama,” Lekan Balogun traces the influences of William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet on Sofola’s Wedlock of the Gods and of John Osborne’s Look Back in Anger and Ademilua-Afolayan’s Look Back in Gratitude. As rightly observed by Balogun, these two playwrights have adapted the older writers’ plays for the Nigerian stage. Thus, he (Balogun) sees intertextuality is a regular penchant noted in the writings of Nigerian playwrights. Like Soyinka’s The Bacchae of Euripides, Opera Wonyosi, and King Baabu; Clark’s trilogy – Song of a Goat, The Masquerade and The Raft; to Femi Osofisan’s (Another Raft, No More the Wasted Breed, Women of Owu, etc.), Balogun argues that women too have tried their hands on adaptation by transposing older writers’ work to their own setting and holding an intertextual debate, as it were, with these older writers. Although Sofola did not claim to have re-written Shakespeare’s work but the similarities in theme and tragic vision cannot be denied. Ademilua-Afolayan, on the other hand, acknowledges the influence and inspiration of Osborne’s play in her work. The issue of youth restiveness is another common thematic point that connects the two plays. Balogun shows assiduously that women drama can be analysed from standpoints other than gender. Mojisola Shodipe’s paper is a sociolinguistic interrogation of two emerging female playwrights. She finds similar elements in the language they use to portray the social dynamics of gender relations in their works. While Ezewanebe is Igbo by birth, Ademilua-Afolayan is of the Yoruba extraction. While Ezewanebe deals with socio-economic responsibilities between male and female, Ademilua-Afolayan treats the issue of tranny and political dictatorship. The overall focus of Shodipe’s contribution is on the sociolinguistic perspective. Kunle Adeyemi in “Moderating Misandry in the Feminist Agenda: An Assessment of Zainabu Jallo and Tosin Tume’s Plays” examines the ubiquitous issue of violence against women and its possible consequences in Jallo’s Onions Make us Cry and Tume’s Not That Woman. The issue of domestic violence is one of the major harmful practices enumerated by T. A. Ezeigbo. It is interesting to see the two writers’ view on violence at home considering that Jallo is from Northern Nigeria and Tume is from the South. Saheed Bello’s paper is critical on the issue of women’s role as mothers. He highlights women’s significance as mothers in Yorubaland where the word “Iya” stands for mothers. This term is important yet it is very complex. Quoting the essays of Olajubu and Ngcobo and using Ifa corpus and proverbial sayings about motherhood, Bello asserts that motherhood is ambivalent. It builds yet it can destroy. He isolates the very uses in the plays Look Back in

Introduction 11

Gratitude and Once Upon and Elephant to buttress his argument. Bello’s analysis is interesting as it builds on patriarchal roles of women, the giver of life, nurturer, keeper of secrets yet destroyer. Orality has been a major source of inspiration for the crafting of many African plays as noted in Soyinka, Clark, Rotimi, Sofola, etc. The same “Common pool” of oral traditional aesthetics offers dramatic elements for the plays of female Nigerian playwrights. Taking Osita Ezenwanebe’s plays as illustration, Mulikah Lawal extracts and shows the blending of oral features and she discusses their relevance to the author’s vision. The essay “The Urban Woman in an Urban Space: A Study of Selected Plays of Chidinma Daniel-Inim” explores the challenges women face. The challenges may include domestic violence, marital infidelity and barrenness. Kehinde Samuel Olukayode classifies Daniel-Inim as belonging to what he termed the third-generation dramatists in Nigeria. He explains the attitude and dramatic features noted with this group. He highlights in different plays how women cope and survive in a stifling environment. He borrows the term “individual survivalism” from Julius Adeoye to encapsulate coping strategies women employ to cope with life. However, a major drawback he notes in the plays is the writer’s predilection for presenting all male characters as bad. Our research has opened up many emerging female playwrights that are not covered by this book. Some of them are Catherine Acholonu, Folashayo Ogunrinde, Onyeka Iwuchukwu, Flora Nwapa, Charity Angya, Rosemary Asen, Bose Ayeni-Tzevende, Amanda Adichie, Foluke Ogunleye, Tracie Utoh Ezeajugh, Ogochukwu Promise, Akachi Ezeigbo, Adebusola Elegbede, Bunmi Adedina, Julie Umukoro, Pamela Udoka Olumide Popoola, Uduak E. Akpabio, Felicia Onyewadume, Oby Nnamani, Tope Olaifa, Jane-Frances Okekearu, Queen Ijeoma Okweshie, Anuli Ausbeth-Ajagu, Ngozi ChumaUdeh (Iwuchukwu & Osofisan and Adeoti). With exposure and education, more women have taken to writing plays as shown by the impressive turnout above. Thus, there ought to be more literary and critical works on the plays written by these women. The silence has been broken. The women have arrived. We hope to research into more women plays and offer critical opinions on them in a second volume.

Works cited Aidoo, Ama Ata. “Unwelcomed Pals and Decorative Slaves: or Glimpses of Women as Writers and Characters in Contemporary African Literature” in Ernest Emenyonu (ed.) Literature and Society: Selected Essays on African Literature. Oguta: Zimpan African Publishers, 1986. Amadiume, Ifi. Male Daughters, Female Husbands: Gender and Sex in an African Society. London: Zed Books, 1989. Balogun, Oladele Abiodun. “Gender Crisis in Yoruba Thought: An Aftermath of Western Experience.” A paper presented at the International Conference on Gender Conflict: The African and Western Perspectives, University of Lagos, 1994.

12  Bosede Funke Afolayan Clark, Ebun. Hubert Ogunde: The Making of Nigerian Theatre. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1980. Evwierhoma, Mabel. Nigerian Feminist Theatre: Essays on Female Axes in Contemporary Nigerian Drama. Allen, TX: Wits Publishing Ltd., 2014. Issues in Gender and Culture in Nigeria. Lagos: Concept Publications, 2002. Ezeigbo, Akachi Theodora. Snail-Sense Feminism: Building on an Indigenous Model. Monograph Series, Faculty of Arts, University of Lagos, Nigeria, No. 17, April, 2012. “Women and Writing in Nigeria” Gender Issues in Nigeria: A Feminine Perspective. Lagos: Vista Books, 1996: 78–88. Iwuchukwu, Onyeka. “Nigeria – The Challenges of (and for) the Female Playwright” Critical Stages/Scenes Critiques, 15, 15, ( June/July 2017):1–37. Lihamba, Amandina. “Foreword” in Kathy A. Perkins (ed.) African Women Playwrights. Urbana and Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 2009. Obafemi, Olu. “Zulu Sofola” in Yemi Ogunbiyi (ed.) Perspectives on Nigerian Literature: 1700 to the Present, Vol. 11. Lagos: Guardian Books Nig. Ltd., 1988. Oluwole, Sophie Bosede. “Feminism in Africa.” A paper presented at the International Conference on Gender Conflict: The African and Western Perspectives, University of Lagos, 1994. Osofisan, Femi and Gbemisola Adeoti (eds.) The 2003 OAU Directory of Emerging Playwrights. Lagos: Concept Publications, 2014. Oyewumi, Oyeronke. The Invention of Women: Making Sense of Western Gender Discourses. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota, 1997. Udengwu, Ngozi. Contemporary Nigerian Female Playwrights: A Study in Ideology and Themes. Germany: LAP LAMBERT Academic Publishing, 2012. Uko, Iniobong I. Gender and Identity in the Works of Osonye Tess Onwueme. Trenton, NJ: Africa World Press, Inc., 2004.

1

The Onye-Nka of African drama Zulu Sofola and the development of African tragic drama Nurayn Fola Alimi

Introduction What this essay sets out to do is to engage in a scholarly discourse on Zulu Sofola. In doing this, the discussion does not assume that the criticism of African theatre has not recognised Onekwuke Nwazuluoha Sofola’s immense contributions to African drama. Any such assumption would be a display of an obvious lack of knowledge about the enterprise of drama in Africa. Zulu Sofola’s name as a foremost African female dramatist has appeared in many lists of prominent African writers. Critical focus has also been applied to her works in journals and books, in and outside Africa, including Mary E. Modupe Kolawole (ed.), 1997; Adeola James 1990; Clenora Hudson-Weens, 1993; Ebele Eko (ed.), 2014. Apart from focusing on her plays, these books, journals and many more engage in rigorous clarification of Sofola’s peculiar dramaturgy and her feminist ideological leaning. Indeed, no one can gloss over the very fact that Sofola’s plays have been performed at several university theatres in and outside Nigeria while she was alive. Nor that, the trend of performing her plays has continued even after her transition to the world of African literary ancestors. Moreover, several undergraduate, graduate dissertations and doctoral theses have been written on her works. To this end, this discussion surveys, highlights and elucidates Sofola’s achievements and contributions to African theatre. An important broad aim of this essay is to extend the already established studies on Sofola’s dramatic oeuvre by further contextualising her drama within the contemporary realities of the Nigerian cultural, socioeconomic and political experiences, particularly as these were experienced after the Nigerian civil war. As a pioneer female dramatist in Nigeria, Sofola appeared on the African drama scene at a very significant time when African writers needed not just to sustain the landmark achievements of the first generation of writers but to also shift the paradigm upon which African literary tradition had been established, particularly in drama. In addition, she occupies a special position amongst the Nigerian dramatists by being the bridge that links the Wole Soyinka and J. P. Clark generation to the seemingly reactionary generation of dramatists arguably led by Femi Osofisan. By the time of her demise in 1995, she had

14  Nurayn Fola Alimi

impacted the tradition of play writing and theatre production so significantly in this regard. Unarguably however, Sofola’s contributions, impact and influence on Nigerian drama and African theatre generally have been unfairly overshadowed by the achievements of male theatre icons such as Soyinka, Clark, Rotimi and Osofisan. This shows that the criticism of African drama has been dominated by studies that focus on male-authored works and theatre. It would seem that the discourse on the high point indexes of modern African theatre performances has not only inadequately captured Sofola’s impact but has also been unfair to the female dramatists generally, leaving a gap in the critical literature. To fill this gap a little bit, the analysis of Sofola’s plays, Wedlock of the Gods, presented in this essay is aimed at further perspectives on her most popular tragic drama. While doing this, the essay reviews the critical literature on the growth of African drama in order to highlight and explicate Sofola’s contributions to the subject of African theatre. The point being made here is that, although it may not be correct to say that Sofola’s work has been ignored in the criticism of African drama, it may, however, be the whole truth that the depth of her drama has not yet been fully uncovered. Thus, there is a clear need to update the trend in African theatre criticism through an explication of Sofola’s Wedlock of the Gods. This discussion hopes to achieve this updating by linking the play to Sofola’s concept of the tragic mode and her vision of African theatre practice as she espouses in The Artist and the Tragedy of a Nation.

The sociopolitical and cultural influence on Zulu Sofola’s Drama The military era The military era inadvertently played a crucial part in the shaping of the Nigerian literary tradition, out of which Zulu Sofola emerged with the publication of plays such as The Deer and the Hunters Pearl (1969); Wedlock of the Gods (1972); Old Wines are Tasty (1981); The Operators (1973); King Emene (1974); The Wizard of Law (1975); The Sweet Trap (1977); Memories in the Moonlight (1986); Queen Omu-ako of Oligbo (1989); Eclipso and the Fantasia (1990); Song of a Maiden (1992); Lost Dreams and other plays (1992). These plays essentially constitute Sofola’s major platform for espousing her ideas about human social, cultural and spiritual essentialities. Sofola may not have directly used her plays to “criticize the military” as some leftist critics have expected, the sociopolitical environment created by military governance inspired her writing generally. But it is not surprising that the role and character of the military institution in the trajectory of Nigeria’s sociopolitical experience have been generally painted in very distasteful images by critics. By constitutional design, the military is an arm of the Executive arm of government. Its

The Onye-Nka of African drama 15

primary responsibility is to defend the country against external aggression. But its emergence in actual and control of executive and legislative space through seising of power from the constitutionally elected government has given observers the opportunity to examine how much damage it has done to contribute to the general problem of underdevelopment in Nigeria. Gbemisola Adeoti, Charles Nnolim, Umelo Ojinmah and Edwin Onwuka are amongst critics who conclude that military leadership is perhaps the worst of all African countries’ challenges. Ojinmah’s (86) reading of Chinua Achebe’s Anthills of the Savannah, for instance, led him to the conclusion that Achebe sees the soldiers as not being any better than the civilians….if anything, they have become worse, having perfected torture, intimidation and cold blooded killings as weapons to cow the opponents of their policies. In spite of this, the role of the military in the nation’s quest for sociopolitical, economic and human capacity development in education and literacy can be described as a double-edged sword. Nigeria’s military performance in the political space is actually highlighted by a paradox of “the goodness in evil,” which has offered an opportunity to literary critics to evaluate the extent to which literature has been affected by military governance. On one hand, the presence of the military in governance has provided a window for writers such as Chinua Achebe as Ojinmah noted to depict them as despotic and visionless in Anthills of the Savannah or as the bane of social, economic and political corruption by Femi Osofisan in Once Upon Four Robbers. To the Nigerian creative writer, the Nigerian military institution and its system of governance are quintessentially ready material for the development of the Historical Novel or Drama, a literary genre that is very vibrant in African literature in one way or the other. On the other hand, the military incursion into civil governance and its usurpation of the social and political landscape is crucial in the development of literary consciousness and criticism in Nigeria (Okunoye, 2011; Osofisan, 1986). This perspective, in particular, has partly answered the question as to how much military governance has been responsible both for promoting literacy in Nigeria and giving the Nigerian literary space a ready window to imaginatively capture Nigerian history, politics and governance, social contract, family life, etc. Okunoye (3) further remarks that critical responses to the restrictive and choking conditioning of the social and political scene by the military are an attempt to recognise certain literary works in Nigeria as belonging to a distinctive genre of Nigerian poetry. He asserts: Even though writing against dictatorship may immediately suggest writing solely preoccupied with criticising dictators, the tradition has grown, impacting in the process on the form and media of poetic expression.

16  Nurayn Fola Alimi

Therefore, the post Nigerian Civil War military period (the period between 1970 and 1979 when Nigeria returned to civilian rule for the second time since independence) was directly and indirectly instrumental to the crystallising of the imaginative potentials of Nigerian men and women of letters. Nigerian literature at this time blossomed, drawing its inspiration from the diverse issues arising from the historical, social, political, cultural and economic experiences of the country. It is this creative explosion that further resulted in the production of cultural and creative works that unarguably began to further change the narrative about the authenticity of Nigerian literature. By then, the debates about what could be regarded as Nigerian literature or as Nnolim (69) puts it, “the Nigerian tradition in literature” had reached not only its momentum but also its critical landmark. Specifically, with the pioneer efforts of Wole Soyinka and John Pepper Clark, in particular, announcing the emergence of modern Nigerian drama in the world stage through their ingenious utilisation of traditional and indigenous oral and cultural materials, sustaining the tradition of African myth and the poetics of mythology on the African drama stage became a crucial task to both these icons and Zulu Sofola who wrote her first play in 1969. It is sad enough that the Nigerian civil war of 1967 to 1970 imposed a period of interregnum on the pace of writing in the country. But when drama resurfaced after the war, its concerns with projecting the African tradition on stage became even more interesting as it extended its coverage and space beyond the common, ordinary imagination of its patrons. This is because the creative attention of dramatists was drawn to both the immediate experiences of the war and its implications on the larger, more contemporary Nigerian and African social and political climate. Even though Soyinka and Clark continued to lead the way, the group of Zulu Sofola, Femi Osofisan, Ola Rotimi, Bode Sowande, etc., not only sustained the momentum, upheld the established criteria of the Nigerian-ness set by Soyinka and Clark but also expanded the frontiers of dramatic coverage in form and content by writing from ideological standpoints, thus, introducing two key western critical theoretical frameworks, Marxism and Feminism into the criticism of their dramas. Sofola’s feminist leaning and gender concern at this period was groundbreaking in the history of Nigerian drama. Osofisan (2) writes that amongst other factors, the post-civil war period was remarkable in the annals of Nigerian literature as there was …a significant growth in the literacy level, consequent upon the expansion in educational institutions (e.g., thirteen universities existed in 1980 as compared with only six in 1970) and added to this was the lure of renown, concretised in the inspiring success of our pioneer writers of the first generation. Thus, despite its bad image of dictatorship and lack of respect for civil governance, the military institution in Nigeria can earn some credit for being

The Onye-Nka of Nigerian drama 17

instrumental to the growth of play writing and theatre practice. It has to be stated also that the memorisation of the genocidal conflict of the Nigerian civil war has been done in several forms as researches and studies on Nigerian history through drama. Many plays written at this period have served to document the Nigerian political and military experiences and the postcolonial self-determination struggles by Nigerian and non-Nigerian authors across the board. The role played by Zulu Sofola in this regard is too crucial to be ignored in the development of Nigerian drama to African theatre. The Enuani cultural and metaphysical influence The second most important influence on Zulu Sofola’s development as an African drama amazon is her Enuani cultural and metaphysical background. Few months to her demise in 1995, Sofola in a seminal monograph, The Artist and Tragedy of a Nation (1994), bared her mind on the problem associated with the perception and the actual content and texture of African Art, particularly performance art. In the exposition, in which she carpets the idea that science is superior to art, she reveals the fundamental guiding artistic principles upon which her plays should be understood. Whether she is writing a tragedy such as Wedlock of the Gods or comedy such as Wizard of the Law, Sofola (4) insists that capturing the African socio-cultural experience in relation to the “dynamic quality of the total universe” is more important to her creative energy than anything else. It can be argued conveniently that the cultural paradigm that produces the literary ambiance for her tragic work is the metaphysical thought of the “Enuani people of Bendel Igbo.” As a dramatist with a sound knowledge of her immediate culture, she believed that the mythopoeic tradition of tragic drama appropriated and introduced by Soyinka and Clark should raise the consciousness amongst African dramatists about the authenticity of African art and the literary vision a writer should uphold. Sofola, therefore, used this argument to produce plays that expands the frontiers of the tragic mode in African drama. She clearly establishes the premises in African drama criticism that the African tradition and how it exemplifies the core of the humanity of Africans are the basis for African art. The basis for any artistic production, as far as Sofola is concerned, should be encapsulated within the notion of “the African mind” and how this mind works to articulate and relate to the universe in a holistic harmony. For her, the creative force that dictates African artistic creations in whatever form is the very essence of human being in relation to his or her cosmic environment. This, in her judgment, must compel the creative artist to evolve a “new universe in the form of society, …to objectify, engage on cosmic level of cognition and thought, and probe the Supreme Mind of the universe” (4). The Enuani people’s cosmological perception of the artist and his or her role in the service of the society, to which Sofola’s creative philosophy and “ideology” subscribe, develop the appropriate concepts that set the platform

18  Nurayn Fola Alimi

for her own conceptualisation of the tragic mode as an artistic communication. Onunu in Enuani metaphysics represents the energy and force that is responsible for the creative process. Interestingly, it is a force that is gender sensitive because it does not recognise the sex of the artist. It is an inspirational force that triggers the artist’s creative energy to depict a new, alternative condition or state of being. Two types of Onunu are derived from this broad template: Onunu Oma and Onunu Ojo. Both forces exist simultaneously within the Onunu essence, in terms of positive and negative forces, respectively. It is also crucial to understand how these conceptualisations manifests in reality. The artist is called Onye-Nka because Onunu Oma, the positive force has endowed him or her to be creative and ingenious in inventing – whether in terms of scientific invention or in imaginative creative composition – whereas Onunu-Ojo is responsible for the negative tendencies that manifest in human beings in the form of “bad temper, rage, violence, wickedness, immorality and many self-destructive expressions” (7). The physical manifestations of Onunu-Ojo are experienced by human beings through natural occurrences such as storms, volcanic eruptions, flood, etc., which cause destruction to the human environment. It is when the negative force is seemingly overwhelming the positive force that the Onunu-Nka in the creative artist intervenes, enabling him or her to create artistic products that are capable of not just representing the ideal but proposing a new order. The primary purpose of the intervention is to restore equilibrium in the human condition as Sofola (7) concludes: And in the vision of the artist, particularly in the art of performance, heroic characters emerge who confront bravely, the problem and through them the spectator reflect on self and the state of cosmic ill-health in his society, and moves to reorder himself and his community.

The critical contexts of Wedlock of the Gods The Onye-Nka of African tragic drama Sofola’s first attempt to demonstrate a personal expression of the inherited oral tradition, particularly in her exposition on the concept of Onunu in the Enuani metaphysics, was her Wedlock of the Gods (1972). In this play, the dream marriage between two young lovers, Uloko and Ogwoma, becomes a nightmare as the two of them are prevented from realising what in the play is a supernaturally contrived love affair. Ogwoma has been betrothed to Adigwu, Odibei’s son out of her consent. Ibekwe, Ogwoma’s father, being a poor peasant decides to give Ogwoma in marriage to Adigwe who is an affluent suitor in order to get money to find a cure to the sickness afflicting Ogwoma’s brother. The first indication of the tragic tone that permeates the atmosphere of the play is Ogwoma’s bold rejection of her parents’ decision. The culture of the people perceives a daughter as the potential source of

The Onye-Nka of Nigerian drama 19

wealth to her parents, thus, it is a taboo for Ogwoma to refuse to be one. Apart from accepting that she is source of wealth to her parents, Ogwoma is also expected to carry and sustain the cultural practices of her people with heroic mien. Ogwoma’s questioning of these cultural practices is unexpected and disappointing to her parents who feel ashamed. The highpoint of the crisis unfolds as Adigwu dies a mysterious death after three years, ending a marriage of unhappiness and childlessness. As prescribed by tradition, Ogwoma is to mourn the death of her husband by remaining in seclusion for three months, after which she would be inherited by Okezie, Adigwu’s brother. Ogwoma and Uloko see the opportunity to realise their love dreams in the death of Adigwu, which is a taboo in the culture of the land. Only about two months after her husband’s death, Ogwoma is pregnant for Uloko and the actions of these two become a scandal in the community. Of course, Odibei is a sorcerer who meanwhile has been suspecting Ogwoma of marital infidelity to her son. She accuses Ogwoma of killing Adigwu and becomes vengeful. In vengeance, she hypnotises Ogwoma; causing her to drink poison while she (Ogwoma) is in a trance. Prior to this Ogwoma had been declared missing, plunging the two families into conflict of accusations. The meaning of the title of the play is brought to the fore. Uloko arrives to see Ogwoma at the point of death. He kills Odibei with a cutlass and drinks the portion which killed Ogwoma. Although most commentaries on Wedlock of the Gods have situated the play within Sofola’s concerns with the contradictions embedded in the cultural hegemonic practice of giving out young girls in marriage to people they do not love, her mode of rendering this problem in accordance with the mythopoeic poetics, as generally conceptualised in the Enuani metaphysics, has either been largely overlooked or outrightly undiscovered. For instance, while identifying the very crucial parameters for categorising writers of the generation after Soyinka and Clark, Osofisan (9) observes that most writers in the category to which Zulu Sofola belongs are notable because their art employs largely the techniques of realism both in its thematic orientation and structural patterns. The works here deal with domestic or at least contemporary crises, the characters shaped in the frame of recognizable social types. Plots are simple, if amplified, the language of narration is straightforward and without contrivance and dialogues are couched in the banal currency of everyday exchange. Finally, the location of the stories is placed within a concrete geographical environment, reinforced by the props of modern living, such as motor cars, electricity, cutlery, etc. This remark is absolutely correct when one examines the basic literary elements of Wedlock of the Gods as play written in the period identified by Osofisan. In general terms, the play is simple because it ‘‘employs largely the techniques of realism both in its thematic orientation and structural

20  Nurayn Fola Alimi

patterns’’; a simple plot that deals with what one may consider as the theme of love in the tradition of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. However, evidence from Zulu Sofola’s career has revealed that this comment was made rather too hastily when it comes to situating her tragic plays in critical African drama context. It should be understood that the playwright’s artistic genius and her dramaturgy were just germinating at the time the remark was made. Perhaps Osofisan’s expectation was to see writers of this period including himself to churn out works that could immediately measure appropriately with those of Soyinka and Clark in terms of artistic technicalities. But this is exactly what Sofola experimented with in Wedlock of the Gods. Thus, in so far as Osofisan’s argument is valid for most of the writings of the time, the problem (if it is a problem at all) the remark identified may not appropriately capture the depth of Sofola’s drama within the creative space that existed in the criticism of Nigerian drama. Indeed, the case for Sofola requires a special consideration within Osofisan’s general parameters. Within the period of 25 years of her active life as a dramatist, theatre director, teacher and theatre critic, she was able to prove her exceptional knowledge of the African culture and tradition while also dealing “with domestic or at least contemporary crises” in her plays. In Wedlock of the Gods, Sofola not only represents a critical perspective about the cultural practices of arranged marriages, she also provides an enormous evidence of her knowledge of tragedy as a malleable literary form that African drama can generously modify and domesticate. The play derives its essence from the complex subject of love, which dovetails into matters of personal honour, sacrifice, gender, death, mourning, self-preservation, etc. A tragic story of two lovers, Ogwoma and Uloko, who are caught in the web of culture, superstitions and tyranny of a hegemonic social order, is dramatised in a carefully woven, simple-to-understand plot structure. In three Acts, Sofola dramatises the plight of the young lovers with actions and events moving seamlessly at a rather fast intriguing pace. Another beautiful aspect of the dramaturgy of Wedlock of the Gods as an African tragedy is its management of the simple plot structure while handling a tragic story. The play achieves a complete structural wholeness in the representation of unity of action and upholds a conflict resolution process that leaves the audience in clear awareness of the problem at hand. Besides, the linear ordering of actions and events does not overshadow the complexity of the issue at stake in the play. Like Romeo and Juliet in Shakespeare’s eponymous play, Romeo and Juliet the tragic experience of love between Uloko and Ogwoma is tied to the idea of fate, which is a strong cultural belief in the African environment of the play. The love between Ogwoma and Uloko is plotted to have a cosmic essence, providing these characters enough energy and will power to challenge the social and cultural boundaries that are obstacles to the experience of an ideal love affair. In this way, the source of the conflict in the play is also problematised. The love story in Wedlock of the Gods is made even more interesting by the playwright’s deft handling of

The Onye-Nka of Nigerian drama 21

characterisation, particularly of the two central characters. As tragic personages, the young lovers are imbued both with the necessary human spirit and innate traits that allow them to defy tradition. They are bold and determined, ready to take responsibility for their actions even when they are seemingly acting scripts designed by supernatural forces. Otherwise, how does their tragic end becomes symbolic of the triumph of culture and tradition (the status quo) over genuine love? In a way, the most enduring element of the play’s beauty, which has been tangentially explored in the criticism of Sofola’s works, is her exploration of the myth and concept of the femme fatale through the actions of the female protagonist. Ogwoma is a central character whose image is represented not just as a rebellious and suicidal character in a patriarchal environment but as a femme fatale. Ogwoma is designed as a character with enormous will power and capacity to turn beauty to advantage when it comes to challenging the status quo. There is something trans-historical about the link between the character of Ogwoma and the contemporary ideas of the attractively seductive and destructive woman. This link can only be properly comprehended through an understanding of Sofola’s concerns with the contemporary woman’s struggle to reject the stereotypes embedded in the history of women as the harbinger of original sin. Even though it would seem that Ogwoma is the typical biblical Eve in the Igbo cultural space of the story who caused an unimaginable catastrophe in a community that was well organised through unwritten laws, Sofola’s contemporary understanding of the idea of femme fatale debunks this argument. The play places the blame not on the beautiful, young and attractive woman but on the hegemonic culture that does not have a process of cleansing itself of bad practices such as arranged marriage. Ogwoma’s resolve to invite Uloko into her dead husband’s abode at a time she is expected to still be mourning is truly suicidal but this is more meaningful as a sacrifice to teach the community some lessons about the powers of love. The period of mourning, according to tradition, is three months. It would have been possible to make the argument that it would be more reasonable for the heroine to wait patiently for this period to lapse so she can possibly get back to happiness. But because tradition has already specified that Ogwoma will be inherited by Okezie, Adigwu’s brother, Ogwoma is not ready to continue to suffer the indignity of cultural hegemony. Ogwoma’s character, appropriately sourced from the new, more contemporary meaning of the myth of femme fatale, hurriedly engages in a culturally illicit affair with Uloko against all counsels from her parents and her friend, Anwasia. She shows how much sacrifice is needed to achieve heroic status. Accordingly, Sofola’s tragic vision in Wedlock of the Gods is to reinvent the disorder in the human society pertaining to how women are treated in culture. She uses the tragic mode to demonstrate the Enuani metaphysics about the Onunu Oma. She, thus, becomes the exemplary Onye-Nka of African tragic drama.

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Conclusion This essay has put forward a discussion centering on the idea that, as the Matriarch of Nigerian drama, Zulu Sofola is an icon in her own right. The discussion offers to contribute to the growing criticism of African drama by considering that, indeed, Sofola’s departure from the scene of modern Nigerian theatre at the age of 60, after publishing and producing well over 15 plays, denied African drama the potentiality of her promising contributions yet to be realised. Her legacies are resounding enough to consider her as a major voice in African drama. Yet, the idea that Sofola’s early plays belong to the “conventional fiction or drama that employs largely the techniques of realism both in its thematic orientation and its structural pattern” suggests a career that began with a firm and clear grasp of the fundamental requirements of modern Nigerian drama rather than a lack of artistic vision and dramaturgic depth. Sofola’s drama, properly put in perspectives, studied and analysed within the tradition of “popular literature,” capture the realities that characterised the Nigerian environment since the end of the civil war when she started to write and produce her plays. In both her early and later plays, the context of the oral traditional, sociopolitical and cultural movements of the 1980s, including the movement for women’s rights provided Sofola with the vision to produce dramas that take a swipe at the loss of moral values, the implications of the culture of materialism on the nation, marginalisation of women and a generous appropriation of dramatic style from the available oral tradition as offered by the Enuani Cultural Metaphysics.

Works cited Adeoti, Gbemisola. “The Military in Nigerian Postcolonial Literature: An Overview.” Revista Alicantina de Estudios Ingleses. Vol. 16, 2003, pp. 1–45. Print. Azunwo, E. Emenike and Omovwiomo, K. Ejiro. “Female Dramatists, Distinction and the Nigerian Society: An Examination of Zulu Sofola and Tess Onwueme’s Select Plays.” Mgbakoigba: Journal of African Studies. Vol. 4, 2015, pp. 23–41. Print. Dholomo, H. I. E. “African Drama and Research.” English in Africa. Vol. 4, No. 2, 1977, pp. 18–22. Print. Kolawole, Mary E. Modupe, ed. Zulu Sofola: Her Life and Her Works. Nigeria: Caltop Publications Limited, 2007. Print. Nnolim, Charles. Issues in African Literature. Lagos: Malthouse Press Limited, 2010. Print. Nwokocha, Uzoma. Trends in African Drama and Theatre. Imo: Crystal Publishers, 2000. Print. Okunoye, Oyeniyi. “Writing Resistance: Dissidence and Visions of Healing in Nigerian Poetry of the Military Era.” Tydskrif Vir Letterkunde, Vol. 48, No. 1, 2011, pp. 73–102. Print. Onwuka, Edwin. “Reading the ‘Military Virus’ in Postcolonial African Novels: Chinua Achebe’s Anthills of the Savannah and Okey Ndibe’s Arrows of Rain in Context.” GEGE: Ogun Studies in English, Vol. 9, Nos. 1&2, 2018, pp. 2012–2015. Print.

The Onye-Nka of Nigerian drama 23 Osofisan, Femi. “Alternative Tradition: A Survey of Nigerian Literature in English since the Civil war.” Presence Africaine, Nouvelle serie, No. 139. 1986, pp. 162–184. Web. 18 September, 2018. http//www.jstor.org/stable/24351129. Sofola, Zulu. Wedlock of the Gods. Ibadan: Evans, 1972. Print. Sofola. The Artist and the Tragedy of a Nation. Nigeria: Caltop Publications Limited, 1994. Print. Umelo, Ojinmah. Chinua Achebe: New Perspectives. Ibadan: Spectrum Books Limited, 1991. Print.

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Theatricalising precarity A study of Tess Onwueme’s No Vacancy! Omolola A. Ladele

Introduction Indisputably, Tess (Akaeke) Osonye Onwueme is, in my estimation, a foremost female Nigerian playwright who deliberately takes sides with the common people who are often consigned to life on the margins by inequitable and exploitative structures of governance, social, economic and juridical systems. In play after play, it is easy to recognise in Tess Onwueme a committed playwright who seeks pragmatic ways to evolve new and more equitable structures that would serve the greater good of the people who are most vulnerable to the oppressive inequities of such systems. Born and schooled in Nigeria, Onwueme has lived and worked in the United States of America for a couple of decades now. Within the backdrop of the nascent postcolonial national history of her home country, Nigerian-American scholar and playwright – Onwueme, emerged closely on the heels of Soyinka, J. P. Clark, Ola Rotimi and Zulu Sofola from about 1985. As possibly also Africa’s best-known female dramatist after Ghanaian forerunners – Ama Ata Aidoo and Efua Sutherland, Onwueme interrogates how skewed socio-economic hierarchies, arcane cultural practices and politics lead to the subordination and exploitation of people, particularly women, unemployed youths and such other underprivileged and disempowered categories of people. But more than these, she is perhaps more concerned with formulating new ways in which these categories of people – women and youths can critically exploit innate potential and aspects of their being to gain agency and liberate themselves from unjust systems. Thus, in spite of their often overwhelming powerlessness and precarious conditions, Onwueme’s characters in play after play assiduously work towards developing their latent capabilities for reformulating for themselves new social idioms for their liberation. She, thus, quite often, dramatises in a variety of combinations and conflictual tensions, African proverbs, aphorisms, cultural symbols, dance sequences, short tales in an overarching tableau to achieve transformative dramatic idioms through which the oppressed can climb out of their oppressive situations and circumstances. This chapter hopes to enlarge our vision and evaluation of Onwueme’s oeuvre that appears to centralise the idiom of precarity as well as call critical

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attention to some of the practices and politics of precarity vis-à-vis North/ South global dialogues. Proceeding, therefore, from a materialist interpretation of the formation of precarity, this chapter offers a literary perspective on Onwueme’s engagement with precarity through an exegetic study of No Vacancy! In this chapter, I illustrate how Onwueme’s thematisations are framed by her concerns with the uneven and iniquitous distribution of resources and power in society and the subsequent spatial and temporal privations that, for instance, create gendered antimonies and the subjection of great numbers of people to dire socio-economic conditions that not only pauperise them but also make them vulnerable. Thus, for instance, JUSTICE/DIRECTOR’S sarcastic expletives early in the play immediately point to the central thematic concerns of the playwright, thus: A country where only one job exists. Yes! Created by the one and only Presido (Bows to Big Brother) for himself ! A job for himself. ONLY! And for a handful of his bloated friends and allies? Can’t you see that since he came into power Even the pre-existing jobs have disappeared? Jobs! Jobs! Disappeared. Gone! Migrated overseas? Hey folks! Don’t you just love the Big Brother? I do. Love him deadly…dearly, I mean…pardon. For you see, I suffer from a chronic case of hunger and wonder too! Just makes me say—do the right thing at the wrong time…wrong thing at the right… (Realizing his slip he pinches himself again.) Stop! Tongue… I’m tired… his mouth, shut up! Or they’ll put me in jail, especially in these times…These Times? Haaaaa! (Sigh). (No Vacancy! 19) With her hyperbolic play on words and the staccato or fragmented speech that typically stumble out of the mouths of many of her characters as exemplified in the above speech, Onwueme prefigures the crux of her interrogation in the play, No Vacancy! – the real-life existential issues that circumscribe the lives of the common people. For Onwueme, this play is yet another opportunity to problematise and bring into full public glare on the international stage, contemporary issues of the local neocolonial pains, anguish and frustrations of a massive group of people – the unemployed Nigerian youths. And this is consistent in many of her other plays, as Onwueme demonstrates an abiding concern with any class of persons who are marginalised and oppressed by exploitative hegemonic policies, politics and traditions within national and international contexts.

Tess Osonye (Akaeke) Onwueme and the “female genre” in Nigerian Drama This chapter situates Onwueme’s dramaturgy within the development of what I choose to describe as the “female genre” of modern Nigerian literary drama in English. What then is this “female genre” of Nigerian drama? From

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its inception, modern Nigerian literary scape has been distinctively male; dominated as it was by the practice of theatre and literary playwrights such as James Ene Henshaw, Soyinka, Sofola, J. P. Clark, Ola Rotimi, Osofisan, Wale Ogunyemi, Kole Omotoso, Bode Sowande, and latterly, Olu Obafemi and others. Many of these playwrights who remain colossal in a long list of early playwrights in Nigeria have also, significantly, defined West African and even African drama and theatre. Also, the criticism of their practice was long dominated by names such as Adedeji, Ogunba, Jeyifo, Ola Rotimi, Ogunbiyi and Ebun Clark. Nevertheless, as early comers to an otherwise male-dominated stage, Zulu Sofola and Ebun Clark as female playwright and critic were influential in instituting the development of the female genre of Nigerian literary drama and theatre traditions. As to be expected, responses to this development continue to garner various hues of reactions from both sides of the gender divide. For instance, Enessi Ododo in a keynote address titled: “Nature and Nurture: WomenCentered Drama, Theatre and Performance in Nigeria” suggests that in Nigeria, women-centered drama can be broadly categorised into two: male dramatists on women and female dramatists on women. Ododo’s categorisation somewhat captures the spirit of what I here describe as the “female genre” of Nigerian drama and theatre practice. But the road to the emergence of female dramatists and theatre practitioners in Nigeria has not been easy. Onyeka Iwuchukwu in an apposite and enlightening article provides insights to some of the problems besetting early female Nigerian dramatists and practitioners of theatre, including playwrights. She also fills some of the intellectual gaps in the scholarship of Nigerian drama and theatre practice calling attention to the efforts of women in the South Western and former mid-Western regions of Nigeria who were mostly illiterate but who had their own troupes. Noting also the often discounted pioneering efforts of two Yoruba actresses and theatre troupe owners – Adunni Oluwole and Funmilayo Rancho who belong to the tradition of such practitioners as Hubert Ogunde, Duro Ladipo and others, Iwuchukwu underscore their contribution to the evolution of a female genre in Nigerian drama and theatre practice. At any rate, Nigerian women writers and, in particular, female playwrights continue to inflect their voice on contemporary and topical issues of national, even global dimensions. Since their first appearance in the middle fifties, they continue to generate lively dialogues with the previous generation of male dramatists. Importantly too, they are defining an alternative tradition of writing that is significant in the development of an emerging postcolonial national theatre. One of the recent female critics to define and describe the efforts of female Nigerian playwrights is Mabel Tobrise (Evwerihoma) (1998) in her pioneering study, Nigerian Feminist Theatre: Essays in Contemporary Nigerian Drama. Further delineating the work of these female playwrights in more precise terms, Okoh (67) in her 2012 Inaugural lecture, aptly titled Towards Feminist

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Theatre in Nigeria, observes that feminist theatre is based on the principles of feminism and refers to any dramatic work that centers on the struggle of women for equal opportunities with men, and to be accepted as human beings, instead of being cast into gender stereotypes. With an abundance of Nigerian women as writers, critics and scholars bestriding various academic fields and other spheres of human endeavor, there is ample evidence that they are producing an energetic female genre that is continually stimulating responses from local and international audiences. Using the occasion of Soyinka’s 1986 Nobel Prize for Literature’s 20th-year celebrations to re-evaluate and reflect on the space of Nigerian literary drama and theatre, playwright and theatre practitioner herself, Irene Salami argues that the Nobel Prize was a major climax that facilitated the platform on which many Nigerian writers came to the limelight. Going further and assessing, specifically, how female Nigerian dramatists fared in Nigeria, Salami says that the Prize exposed the fact that women [at least at the time] were invisible as writers, readers and subject in the literature. Much later, precisely in 2004, Ogunleye (33) points out that “in Nigerian theatre, female playwrights are emerging to question the invisibility and negative female stereotypes that have characterized the works of many Nigerian male dramatists.” Going further, Afolayan (170) attempts to adduce reasons for Salami’s position arguing, strenuously, that: “at a time it was disreputable for women to be engaged in commercial stage performances.” Salami (123), however, presses further that since that initial setback, a large generation of female dramatists including Tess Onwueme, Stella Oyedepo-Biu, Irene Salami, Julie Okoh [and] Tracy Utoh have come to dominate the field. Thus, there has since been a flourishing of female writers, dramatists, playwrights and theatre practitioners who rigorously contest the initial “invisibility” that Salami points to. Providing further significant impetus to the greater showing of women as writers is the global feminist movement that swept into Africa since the late seventies and early eighties. This subsequently propelled vigorous feminist readings of male-centered Nigerian dramas. It may also be instructive to note that many of these female theatre practitioners are mostly based in the Nigerian and/or another academe around the world. Within the continuum of the evolution of Nigerian drama by women, Tess Osonye Onwueme is, unequivocally, a dexterous and versatile, leading playwright of international acclaim. Methuselah (155) affirms Onwueme’s leading position suggesting that her womanist ideology is a deliberate attempt to re-invent the status of women with her plays showcasing the courage and fortitude of women. Coming in the generation right after the first-published female Nigerian dramatist and matriarch of Nigerian theatre, Zulu Sofola, Onwueme breaks new grounds – challenging in her dramas the orthodoxies of earlier female dramatists in Africa such as Sofola, Sutherland and Aidoo. Furthermore, Batra (333) explains that Onwueme’s dramaturgy “differs from the dominant theatrical tradition in Nigeria which has stopped short of a serious engagement with women’s issues.”

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Radically departing from these early precursors, Onwueme has published, directed and produced many of her well-over 20 plays and while drama is her forte, she has also experimented with poetry and even prose fiction. From her amateurish first play, A Hen too Soon (1982), Onwueme has continued to forge ahead, exploring from a plurality of perspectives, various pertinent socio-political themes as evinced in The Broken Calabash (1984), Desert Encroaches (1985), A Scent of Onions (1986), Ban Empty Barn and other plays (1986), Legacies (1989), The Reign of Wazobia and other plays (1992), among several others. Onwueme first shot into national prominence bestriding the Nigerian stage with her 1985 awarding-winning, highly allegorical play, The Desert Encroaches which departs, thematically, from the earlier ones with its overtly feministic vision. The play won the prestigious Nigerian Authors Association contest for drama in 1985, a prize that no other female playwright has won to date. Onwueme’s repertoire of dramas has continued to mature in themes and aesthetics. Not long after, Onwueme travelled to North America where she continues to lend her voice to topical issues of national and international interest to her as a diasporic playwright. The earliest critical studies on Onwueme’s plays were understandably by male critics – Olu Obafemi, Chidi Amuta and Nwachukwu-Agbada’s seminal study of The Reign of Wazobia (1992). Amuta (53), for instance, notes that Onwueme (with other women writers at the time) significantly expanded what used to be a “minority tradition” (of women writers). He offers further explication of Onwueme’s style, suggesting that the “fledgling playwright” demonstrates: a more liberal approach of focusing attention on the topical issues in the contemporary Nigerian (and African) Society [signifying] her way of contending that the African woman writer, like her male counterparts is a member of a specific society whose experiences are conditioned by broad problems and issues that do not often discriminate between the sexes. But it is Ajayi (115) who correctly underpins the deliberate ideological position Onwueme takes in many of her plays, observing that: Clearly, Onwueme privileges women and their concerns in her plays. Each play features women in prominent roles and their characters are well-developed even when they are not the protagonists. At every opportunity Onwueme asserts that women are critical to any wholesome community. Since these early studies, several other critics (especially female) have often pointed to the centrality of feminism, gender and women’s issues in Onwueme’s dramaturgy. Iwuchukwu, for instance, describes The Reign

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of Wazobia as Onwueme’s most widely studied play, especially, from a feminist perspective. Also, Ladele’s previous studies of Onwueme enlarge critical discourse on the playwright’s dramaturgy pointing to what she describes as Onwueme’s “revolutionary theatre” in which the playwright centralises the battles against social inequality, political oppression and sexism. In yet another essay, the critic through a comparative study of two plays by Onwueme: The Reign of Wazobia and The Broken Calabash with Zulu Sofola’s The Sweet Trap and Wedlock of the Gods examines the possibilities of an evolution of a new theatrical ethos in which both playwrights attempt to create women who are no longer ideologically complicit, but women who take center stage in directing their affairs. And this is an important remark as it appears to reinforce Onwueme’s abiding philosophy in which in spite of their social, economic, historical and political exclusions, her characters always struggle to escape their predetermined subjectivities (312). In recent time, several more seminal studies have emerged which focus on the specific feminist content and ideology of Onwueme’s play – indicating her various attempts at sensitising her readers to the multiple layers of injustices that underlie the prejudices against women in typically Nigerian or African contexts. Such studies include Evweriohma’s Female Empowerment and Dramatic Creativity in Nigeria and Iniobong Uko’s important book Gender and Identity in the Works of Osonye Tess Onwueme published in 2004 by Africa World Press. In Uko’s study, the author discusses all of Onwueme’s 16 published plays at that time. Also, focusing on Onwueme’s thoughts on gender issues in four of her plays is Akoh’s “Travelling Theory: the Feminism and Womanism of Tess Onwueme” – an attempt to describe the significant phases of Onwueme’s artistic and ideological development as a feminist. Akoh’s essay is crucial, in that it demonstrates how Onwueme’s dramatic repertoire has evolved temporally and spatially in a three-part structure through an initial stage of “Radical Feminism,” a middle phase of “African Feminism” and the third stage of “African Womanism where theory meets with practice.” Similarly, concentrating on feminist issues, Ojaruega problematises some of the divisive conflicts that arise from the deception, exploitations and hypocrisies when, rather than collaborate and join forces and resources with each other, there is suspicion and struggle for power among women in her enlightening essay: “Feminist Perspectives and Intra-gender conflict in Tess Onwueme’s Tell it to Women.” Also, of value is the Afribary.com resource – Gender Discourse in the Nigerian society: A case study of the female gender in Tess Onwueme’s Tell it To Women. All these studies uniquely place Onwueme firmly within the feminist/womanist discourse both in Nigerian local literary debates and on the global stage. It is also important to remark that Onwueme has particularly enjoyed critical attention from many Nigerian female critics as this brief survey of critical resources on her works reveal. Without doubts, Onwueme’s purview is experimental, experiential and expansive; extending beyond the typical struggles of her female Igbo heroines who often contend with stereotypical traditional values and prejudicial

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practices which, quite often, suppresses them. The playwright also problematises other deeply rooted, typically existential realities of Africans – demonstrating her profound perceptiveness especially since Onwueme’s dramatic repertoire and dramatic idioms have matured with time. For instance, the Kenyan critic Mule’s (193) observation of Onwueme’s oeuvre demonstrates that it has “progressively become a most ideologically engaged and politically forthright body of work. Indeed, she has grown to be perhaps the most prolific among modern African women playwrights who has emerged as one of the most passionate and unapologetic interpreters of the postcolonial African cultural experience.” Thus, in Onwueme’s drama, there is often a profound contestation of the iniquitous yet widely accepted and normative structures in her attempt to forge new and more balanced paradigms for the benefit of all. Onwueme’s concerns, expectedly, emanate from the prevailing, complexly intertwined quagmire of economic and socio-political conditions, environmental degradation, youth restiveness, human rights issues, underdevelopment, conflicts and tensions of the country of her birth. But her dramaturgy extends beyond local borders, they also pulsate with global issues such as neocolonialism, human trafficking, the negative impact of globalisation among other such issues and we may begin to describe her dramaturgy as being imaginatively eclectic. To return to Ajayi’s (120) earlier article, for instance, the critic affirms that “people provide the impetus that drives Onwueme’s creative ideas, and people are not one-dimensional.” Affiah also demonstrates that Onwueme is also keenly interested in “conscientizing and sensitizing” oppressed people to take appropriate action against exploitative and unjust oppressors. Thus, whether they are women or ordinary regular people, Onwueme creates a performative space through which the exploited or oppressed can take action for the transformation of society and individual lives for the common good.

Precarity and No Vacancy: Unpacking the issues Mundane existential factors often taken for granted in the global North are, mostly, still the bane of many African countries and other so-called Third World countries around the globe. In the global North, there is an appreciable degree of certainty and even predictability of important social and economic indices that allow for a greater number of people to plan and design their lives satisfactorily. Accentuating the North/South polarisations is what seems to be the deliberate, systematic impoverishment and dis-enabling economic conditions which excludes large portions of the population in the global South. More worrisome is that most of these conditions seem to be clandestinely, perpetuated by the North. In a recent report, the International Labor Organization (ILO) underscores this position pointing out that the estimated “number of unemployed youths worldwide is in excess of 70 million, and that the number is growing. Worse still, nearly 40% or 156 million of working youths live in poverty,” The ILO

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report contextualises a globalisation narrative in which the widespread unemployment, impoverishment and abject poverty of youths in most of African and Third World countries are so starkly presented. Perhaps more worrisome is that in these nations, the impunity of the kleptocratic ruling elites is often only mildly remarked or even confronted. This seeming political apathy makes the impervious rulers senselessly flaunt their ill-gotten wealth in the face of such abject poverty and do almost nothing to redress the ailing economies of their countries. Thus, with large populations not holding their rulers accountable, there is, often, on one hand, the normalisation of such impunities. On the other hand, it sometimes produces imbalances which quite often result in tensions that provoke deep anger and intensely volatile socio-political implosions. With such widespread insecurities and nervous anxieties about their future, the daily lives/routines of this class of people are characterised by apprehensiveness as they are unable to invent for themselves coherent narratives of self-actualisation. At any rate, there are also pre-existing conditions that underscore the creation of precarity and disrupt the narrative of progression and development in Africa. Tejumola Olaniyan holds that emerging from their encounter with the West and in what he describes as their “distinct postcoloniality” is the marginality of Africa which illustrates the unequal relationship with the colonial imperialists. In this historical overview, Olaniyan calls attention to the deliberate processes of inequity designed to perpetuate the exploitative colonised/Empire relations. For Olaniyan (270), the disequilibrium is strategically structured on a tripartite model of “the domination of the physical space, the reformation of the natives mind and the integration of the local economic histories into the Western perspective.” These, he avers, ultimately, construct the trajectory for the processes of the underdevelopment of Africa and these processes fundamentally altered not only their immediate present but also their futures. Olaniyan’s third trajectory in which the economic lives of the colonised are still conditioned by colonial narratives form the nexus of the precarity, we witness in Onwueme’s play – No Vacancy! The fact that most of Africa is still grappling with these problems since five decades and more after colonial rule is evidence of the rootedness of the conditions, they were formulated to predispose them to – failure/disadvantage. As a global socio-political and economic phenomenon, precarious living and working conditions began to emerge sometime in the late eighties mainly as an indication of the failed capitalist developments around the world. Mostly departing from her familiar fare of women/gender issues, in her play No Vacancy! Onwueme speaks to other global phenomena such as the neocolonial conditions of precarity as localised in present-day, postcolonial Nigeria. The playwright graphically explores the North/South global dynamics that defines the global North as the metropole that engenders and rationalises its dominance and oppression of others on one hand and, on the other, its legitimisation of the precarious periphery of southern locations. Quite recently and as a result of the sweeping global economic crises, some

32  Omolola A. Ladele

European and American scholars – Lauren Berlant, Judith Butler, Bojana Cveljic, Isabell Loray, Jasbur Puar and Ana Vujanovic in “Precarity Talk: A Virtual Roundtable” have been concerned with the concept and term precarity. Their dialogues describe precarity in terms of dependency, needs and vulnerability. In a related article, Schrock (68) examines the “devices of truth telling that Hirsi Ali employs in Infidel and the film Submission to argue that her narratives map vulnerability unto the bodies of Muslim women in a distorted and dangerous way that reinforces Western fictions of Muslim women’s all-encompassing precarity. What emerges from these positions is that precarity can and may indeed become a rubric for understanding the ways in which vulnerability becomes embodied and lived experiences and, therefore, it is a socio-political and economic formation. Schrock’s study also shows that precarity may indeed be gendered.

Precarity as dramatic trope: A study of No Vacancy! Onwueme’s No Vacancy! has so far not often been subject to much critical explication, yet it appears to significantly mark a critical turning point in the development of Onwueme’s dramatic repertoire. With a dramatic career in theatre that now spans well over three and a half decades, the 2005 appearance of Onwueme’s No Vacancy! is for one, not only centrally located in terms of the artistic productions by Onwueme, the play also signals for the playwright, a paradigmatic shift to a more global stage where Onwueme demonstrates ideological empathy for the subjugated, exploited and oppressed. Thus, empowered to use the visceral medium of theatre and its potentials for operating in the public sphere, Onwueme compellingly speaks for the disenfranchised and voiceless. I, therefore, purposively select the play in order to establish Onwueme’s use of precarity as an organising trope for galvanising political action. Precarity in this context, thus, becomes a discursive frame for her dramaturgy. While she foregrounds the frustrations, disillusionment and impoverishment created by the insensitivity of a visionless leadership and their unscrupulous foreign compradors in that play, Onwueme’s characters, determinedly, work their way out of their precarity through collective action in spite of their dire socio-economic conditions. Up to this point, I establish two overarching narratives that impact the conceptual premise of this study of Onwueme’s No Vacancy! Through this play, Onwueme enters the precarity discourse that, although not so new to Africa, has been under-represented and under-theorised from African perspectives. Yet, indeed precarity has mostly defined much of Africa’s work/ employment reality and many African writers variously engage with precarity as it conditions the realities of several societies. Thus, for instance, leading Nigerian playwright, social critic and poet – Osofisan, expresses profound pain and anguish at the present state of precariousness prevailing on the African continent from being a continent of once regarded in the sixties as a place of tremendous promise and plenitude, as a land that would bring fresh vitality to the decadence of the western world, Africa has declined.

Theatricalising precarity 33

Another outstanding Nigerian writer, poet, polemicist and playwright, Niyi Osundare, consistently deploys his art to critique the endemic problems of the Nigerian state. For instance, in his collection of poems: Songs of the Season and, specifically, in the poem titled: “Song of the Jobless Graduate,” the poet describes the pain and the torture of the typical Nigerian graduate thus: I have been through the jungle of books Wrestled down the spine of muscular tomes I’ve battled nights with a column of letters Limping into the dawn of blood-shot eyes …………. Now out at last with “the golden fleece” “B.A. Hons” in glittering scrolls Hood and gown like a masquerade But where the job to show for these? (Osundare, 1990) Thus, from the troubling evidence of Osofisan’s remarks and Osundare’s poem, it is clear that the conditions and processes of precarisation and near anomie that Onwueme thematises in her play, No Vacancy, appear endemic in Nigeria. And considering that Nigeria is Africa’s most populous country endowed with an abundance and variety of enriching resources, material, human, and mineral, it is most contradictory that Nigeria should continually seem to sink into abject poverty, recession and massive unemployment of youths all complicated by ostentatious leadership and bad governance. Precarity is, thus, the point of struggle, conflict and confrontation with the conditions that threaten the lives of many Nigerian youths, the point of Onwueme’s dramatic intervention. Thus, like her Nigerian literary compatriots, Osofisan and Osundare, Onwueme delineates her stage to present the stark realities of the unemployed youths in which the complex political, socio-economic inequities result in profound conflicts and tensions between the duplicitous leadership and the ruled. Importantly, however, Onwueme’s play triggers a precariat consciousness in the youths. In clearly explicit terms, Onwueme remarks this in the preamble to her drama: The youths are passionately vocal and disenchanted with the social system. And so, in their improvised youth camp they set out to mobilize and to change the unjust system for a more viable humane alternative social order. (No Vacancy! 3) These conditions are further complexified by the nation’s rulership which seems to use the apparatuses of state to instrumentalise and normalise the very conditions that produce precarity. This degenerates into the impractical

34  Omolola A. Ladele

reality of the non-existent socio-economic structures of state that should, at least, be the bastions that ameliorate these conditions. Onwueme, in the prefatory notes to her play (3) deftly prefigures these by the cumulative images of the signage in the setting as the stage is opened thus: Danger Zone: Nation of the Unemployed! A large mural defines the center of the stage. The giant statue of Big Brother dominates the mural and it is shielded on all sides by the frame of armed guards with their loaded guns and military arsenal pointed in all directions. Below them are dwarfed images of the common people, burdened by their wretched belongings all around the broken fence that defines their place. (No Vacancy! 7) Thus, graphically foreboding from the first encounter is the overwhelming presence of cannibalistic rulers and their predatory consorts of transnational corporations signaled by the “giant statue of the Big Brother” set against the “dwarfed images of the common people.” In their ominous combinatorial presence on stage, they appear to significantly and symbolically direct and superintend the actions on Onwueme’s stage. Seemingly driving the consciousness of the youths, these images seemed etched into the subconscious of the youths and this becomes more portentous because the mural appears fossilised, static and hugely visible on stage. And appearing not to have an audible voice, it significantly provides a narrative diegetic to the play. Further reinforcing this imposing image is the accumulation of words signifying endangerment encapsulated in the series of words such as “Danger Zone,” “Nation of the Unemployed,” “armed guards,” “loaded guns,” “military arsenal,” “giant statue,” “dwarfed images,” “burdened.” These words deliberately strike at the centre of Onwueme’s theme of precarity, penurious living and vulnerability of the youths. Through the use of these words, the playwright gestures to the collateral conditions of power and powerlessness calling critical attention of the audience to the imbalances of the underlying conditions. Onwueme brings into a compelling social space and public purview the extreme capitalist greed of multinational companies that collude with local national agencies to continually bleed the impoverished. The bathos of their experience is not lost on any of the characters as FAITH, from the onset, asks pertinently: FAITH: My people, you won’t believe what is going on behind…. Beyond that broken fence. Just sheer madness. The entire nation’s selling out…marked ‘for sale’. On the auction block. The entire nation gone! And so, what’s left…in this nation that was? Voiceless, jobless citizens; old and young. (No Vacancy! 9)

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Faith’s reference is to the privatisation of national assets and heritage that depletes the nation of her cultural symbols and collective material resources again pointing to the bare-faced process of impoverishment by government in deeply physical and psychological terms. In this play, Onwueme’s characters mostly bear double names such as: LIBERTY/SEX WORKER, FREEDOM/ BUSINESSMAN, FRANK/JUSTICE, LADY AFFLUENCE/LIBERTY, CHAIRMAN/FREEDOM, SEFCRETARY/LIBERTY, EQUALITY/ APPLICANT, JUSTICE/DIRECTOR, JOBSEEKERS and FAITH/ PETTY TRADER. The screaming banners of their names (all in the upper case) are unmistakably Brechtian. Typically achieving Brechtian alienation, Onwueme’s characters embody, simultaneously, the alternate roles they play, indicating as they do so the symbolisms of the issues embedded in their names which the playwright interrogates. She deploys this voluble dramatic technique to heighten the perception and participation of the reader/audience at the crucially, intellectual level. Thus, for instance, LIBERTY becomes SEX WORKER, fluidly metamorphosing also into LADY AFFLUENCE. Therefore, oscillating between such roles and identities gives the characters both amplitude of space and various interpretive angles for the interrogation of their conditions. In the case of LIBERTY, for instance, she is acutely sensitive to the contradictions of her being when she succinctly asks: LIBERTY: What else is there to do…when you’re robbed… Robbed of any worth, hope, faith in you? And you are treated as if you’re just a mere article Without value? Eh? And in your own country, too? Denied any real worth or name to myself? And no opportunity? …. Experience…they say’s the best teacher. To survive, you gotta do what you gotta do. (No Vacancy! 9) FAITH had shortly before this introduced the dramatic conflict of the play where – the “Voiceless, jobless citizens; old and young. A nation of the unemployed” was planning a revolution against the system. Thus, LIBERTY’s speech, significantly, closes the FIRST ENCOUNTER of the play, leaving the reader in doubt as to the possibilities that are open to LIBERTY. It, therefore, comes as no surprise when in the SECOND ENCOUNTER, LIBERTY transitions to SEX WORKER. The entire drama, thus, invokes profound intellection rather than emotion as the playwright compels the reader to consider deeply the realities of their society. Ultimately, Onwueme’s attempt in this play is to provoke structural transformative change in society. The playwright, thus, challenges the youths to take their destinies in their own hands. The characters often seem to make repetitive, inconsequential movements, sometimes even nonsensical responses to their situations. But the playwright seems to constantly suggest

36  Omolola A. Ladele

to them that they can gain more impact and momentum by collectively and rigorously engaging with the powers of the state that burden their lives. With impoverishment as JUSTICE & LIBERTY captures it in: We fight to Make up! Fight-Make-up! Make-up-Break-up-Make-up! Then break up-and fight. Fight-Fight! Only to make up until…We find our voice. Together. Our feet, together…Our souls. Together… Our dreams. Together. Our feet, one United in this fear. United in this struggle… (No Vacancy! 21) While this appears to be a theatrical style deployed to tell the story of Nigeria’s post-independence dystopia or failure, Onwueme contends for a more radical confrontation with their issues from the characters. Significantly structured integrally into Onwueme’s play are several songs through which the playwright provides alternative scripts of extra textual significance. Onwueme’s repertoire of songs, music and dance in No Vacancy! span a wide variety of the blues, dirges, bric-a-brac minstrelsy commonly found with the proletariat. The staccato medley of songs, mostly fragmented, is diegetic in function. This places the playwright in the company of several other postcolonial African writers such as the master of Acholi satirical song performances – Okot p’Bitek, in Song of Lawino (1966) and Song of Ocol (1967), J.P Clark in Song of a Goat (1961), Niyi Osundare in Songs of the Marketplace (1983) and Songs of the Season (1990), Femi Osofisan in The Chattering and the Song (1977), Tanure Ojaide in Endless Song (1989) who extensively deploy songs in their texts beyond mere aestheticism. Thus, beyond asserting their connectivity and rootedness with their oral heritage, these writers incorporate songs as structured metaphoric idioms that intensify plot/thematic developments in their texts.

Conclusion Onwueme has consistently been concerned with those living on the margins of society; thus, her plays have quite often been associated with the more radical, more revolutionary group of Nigerian writers such as Osofisan, Osundare and Kole Omotoso. These writers use art not for the sake of art but to compel necessary socio-political revolutions. As demonstrated in Onwueme’s play, inimical governmental practices produce precarious living conditions for the generality of the people particularly the youths who are mostly unemployed and who embody the experiences of the poor citizens in postcolonial Nigeria. Having at least gained flag independence, many African countries have had to trudge the arduous road of evolving new national narratives of regeneration, reformation and reinvention. Thus, Onwueme’s No Vacancy! gives hope to a disenfranchised and disempowered group in order to engender new socio-political genealogies beyond precarious living.

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Works cited Affiah, Uwem. ‘Protest, Resistance and Activism in the Drama of Osonye Tess Onwueme.’ American Journal of Social Issues and Humanities. 2:5 (September 2012) 248–293. Web. Afolayan, Bosede Funke. ‘The Nigerian Female Dramatists and National Development: Tess Onwueme’s Example.’ Eureka: A Journal of Humanistic Studies.2:5 ( June 2013) 168–189. Lagos: Department of European Languages. Print. Afribary.com ‘Gender Discourse in the Nigerian Society: A Case Study of the Female Gender in Tess Onwueme Tell It to Women.’ Web. Afribary.com 11, 2013. Web. https:// afribary.com/read 1863 gender-discourse-in-the-Nigerian-society: a-case-study-ofthe-female-gender-in-Tess-Onwueme’s Go Tell it To Women. Web. Ajayi, Omofolabo. ‘Who Can Silence Her Drums? An Analysis of the Plays of Tess Onwueme.’ Matin Banham, James Gibbs & Femi Osofisan (Eds.) African Theatre: Women. Oxford & Bloomington, Indiana. James Currey & Indiana UP. 2002. 109–121. Print. Akoh, Ameh Dennis. ‘Travelling Theory: The Feminism and Womanism of Onwueme'. Creative Artist: A Journal of Theatre and Media Studies Vol. 2 (1) 2009. 52–67. Amuta, Chidi. ‘The Nigerian Woman as a Dramatist: The Instance of Tess Onwueme.’ Henrietta Otokunefor & Obiageli Nwodo (Eds.) Nigerian Female Writers a Critical Perspective. Lagos: Malthouse Press Ltd. 1989. 53–59. Print. Batra, Kanika. ‘Polygamous Postcolonialism and Transnational Critique in Tess Onwueme’s The Reign of Wazobia.’ Meridians. 15:2 (2017) 330–352. Web. Berlant Lauren, Butler Judith, Cveljic Bojana, Loray, Isabell, Puar Jasbur, & Vujanovic Ana. ‘Precarity Talk: A Virtual Roundtable.’ The Drama Review/TDR. 56:4 (2012) 163–177. Web. DOI: 2307/23362779 Contemporary Black Biography Encyclopedia.com. www.encyclopedia.com. 16 Mar. 2017. Evwerihoma, Mabel. Female Empowerment and Dramatic Creativity in Nigeria. Ibadan, Nigeria: Caltop Publications. 2002. Print. Iwuchukwu, F. Onyeka. ‘Racism and Identity in Onwueme’s Riot in Heaven.’ CLCWeb: Comparative Literature and Culture. 15:1. (2013). ‘Nigeria—the Challenge of (and for) the Female Playwright.’ The IATC Journal: International Association of Theatre Critics. 15 ( June 2017). http://www. critical-stages.org/15. Ladele, Omolola. ‘Women Writers in Africa.’ A.A. Fakoya & G.A Osoba (Eds.) The English Compendium. Vols. 1 & 2, Lagos: The English Department LASU. 2001a. 309–316. Print. ‘Between Zulu Sofola and Tess Onwueme: Parables for a New Testament in Women’s Theatre in Nigeria.’ Ojo Olorunleke & Lola Ladele (Eds.) The English Compendium. Vols. 1 & 2, Ibadan: Olu Akin Publishers. (A publication of the Department of English, LASU). 2001b. 72–86. Print. Methuselah, Jerimiah S. ‘Women Playwrights and Female Imaging in Nigerian Literary Drama: An Overview.’ Journal of Nigerian English Studies Association. 13:2 September. 2010. 151–164. Web. Mule, Katwiwa. ‘Producing Locality: Tess Onwueme’s Archaeologies of Knowledge.’ The Reign of Wazobia and Tell It to Women in Women’s Spaces: Women’s Visions: Politics, Poetics, and Resistance in African Women’s Drama. Trenton: AWP, 2007, 193–217. Print. Nwachukwu-Agbada, J.O.J. ‘Tess Onwueme: Dramatist in Quest for a Change.’ World Literature Today. 66:3 (Summer 1992) 464–467.

38  Omolola A. Ladele Nyager, E. A. ‘Gender and Topicality in Onwueme’s Plays.’ African Research Review: An International Multi-Disciplinary Journal. 5:2 (April 2011) 154–167. Obafemi, Olu. ‘Tess Onwueme.’ Yemi Ogunbiyi (Ed.) Perspectives on Nigerian Literature: 1700 to the Present. Vol. 2, Lagos: Guardian Bks. 1988. 211–215. Ogunleye, Foluke. ‘21st Century Image of Women: A Womanist Reading of Two Nigerian Plays.’ Institute of African Studies: Research Review. 20:1 (2004) 33–47. Web. Ojaruega, Enajite. ‘Feminist Perspectives and Gender Conflict in Tess Onwueme’s Tell It to Women.’ Journal of the African Literature Association. 6:2 (April 2012) 197–206. Web. Oko, Iniobong. Gender and Identity in the Works of Osonye Tess Onwueme. Trenton, N.J.: AWP. 2004. Print. Okoh, J.O.O. Towards Feminist Theatre in Nigeria. 95th Inaugural Lecture Series. University of Port Harcourt. 2012. Olaniyan, Tejumola. ‘Africa Varied Colonial Legacies.’ H. Schwarz & Ray Sangeeta (Eds.) A Companion to Postcolonial Studies. Hoboken, N.J.: Blackwell Publishing. 2005. 269–281. Onwueme, Tess, Osonye. A Hen Too Soon. Owerri, Nigeria: Heins Nigeria Publishers. 1983. The Broken Calabash. Owerri, Nigeria: Totan. 1984. The Desert Encroaches (An Opera). Owerri, Nigeria: Totan, 1985. Ban Empty Barn and Other Plays. Ibadan: Samadex Printing Works 1986. Legacy. Ibadan: HEBN 1989. The Reign of Wazobia and Other Plays. Ibadan: HEBN 1992. Tell It to Women: An Epic Drama. Detroit: Wayne State University Press. 1997. Shakara: Dance-Hall Queen: A Play. San Francisco: African Heritage Press. 2000. Then She Said It: A Play. New York: African Heritage Press. 2002. What Mama Said: An Epic Play. New York: African Heritage Press. 2004. No Vacancy! Trenton. N.J.: AWP. 2005. Osofisan, Femi. The Chattering and the Song. Ibadan: Ibadan University Press. 1997. Insidious Treasons: Drama in as Postcolonial State (essays). Ibadan: Opon Ifa Publishers. 2001. Osundare, Niyi. Songs of the Season. Ibadan: Heinemann. 1990. Salami, Irene. ‘Nigerian Women Playwrights: Beyond the Nobel Prize.’ Gbemisola Adeoti & Mabel Evwierhoma (Eds.) After the Nobel Prize Reflections on African Literature, Governance and Development. Lagos: Association of Nigerian Authors. 2006. 123–142. Schrock, Richelle D. ‘Fictions of All-Encompassing Precarity in the Works of Ayaan Hirsi Ali.’ Frontiers: A Journal of Women’s Studies. 37:1 (2016) 66–89. Print Tobrise, Mabel. Nigerian Feminist Theatre: Essays on Female Axes in Contemporary Nigerian Drama. Ibadan: Sam Bookman, 1998.

3

Navigating morality in the plays of Stella Oyedepo Bankole Oluwaseun Wright

Introduction The fact that literature captures the complexities of human experience is not contestable. The social activities prevalent in a certain cultural milieu are cast in the eyes of literature for critical evaluation and interpretation. As such, literature is a judge of life, for through it we understand our realities. The human experience – social, religious, political and economic – has always been the subject of literature, which frequently plunges into the heart of these areas to depict the state of things and to provide alternatives for a better existence, especially in the drive for an ideal society. Literature is, therefore, active representation of the state of a society and a veritable participant in the criticism of the same, with the intent of creating a better society. One of the major functions of literature is to teach and instruct even as it also delights its readers. Sydney (938), in his treatise titled “Defense of Poesy,” expounds, thus, on the moral and social functions of literature: Literature imitates both to delight and to teach, and delight, to move men to take goodness in hand, which without delight they would as from a stranger; and teach, to make them know that goodness whereunto they are moved - which being the noblest scope to whichever any learning was directed… In the extract above, Sydney details the moral and social functions of literature, i.e., its educative and didactic relevance to society. Ideally, literature should shape the moral behaviour of individuals and society at large. In essence, literature helps to improve human behaviour for the general good of society (Odinye 77). Therefore, we can agree that literature, irrespective of the genre, achieves its relevance through its ability to teach and instruct its readers. The didactic function of literature is integral and pivotal to the transformation of individuals and society at large. Thus, literature must perform the pragmatic function of causing positive change in the lives of individuals and society, thereby creating an ideal reality. Since literature performs the functions of

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teaching and instilling moral values, it may, therefore, be concluded that it is a moral compass through which individuals navigate their paths towards an ideal reality and existence. No doubt, then, literature is a tool through which morality is instilled in the society. However, we must first address the question of what constitutes morality. Morality or moral values find expression in a society that thrives in values and ideals. Morality is simply a state of being ideal, perfect and living up to certain prescribed standards. Morality descriptively refers to “certain codes of conduct put forward by a society or a group (such as a religion), or accepted by an individual for her behaviour, or normatively to refer to a code of conduct that, given specified conditions, would be put forward by all rational persons.” (Stanford Encyclopaedia of Philosophy) Odinye (86) posits that Morality or morals can be used interchangeably since they basically deal with the intrinsic values or attributes of people in connection to their society. Hence, the term morality … denotes a system of moral principles followed by a particular group of people. This simply means that human standard can be judged, criticized and evaluated based on what is socially and culturally accepted in a given cultural space. In the light of the above extract, an individual or a society is considered moral if or when such an individual or society conforms to the social and cultural standards of that given society. Invariably, literature serves as a tool for individual and social transformation; it is a veritable medium for moral instruction and teaching for the sole purpose of building a habitable and ideal society. In this chapter, we investigate the genre of drama, which portrays the human condition by reflecting or refracting the state of a particular society in its bid to depict the ideal way of living in a given social environment.

Morality, drama and Nigerian society The question of morality has been a recurring subject in creative and scholarly discourse on the dramatic genre. This is because the society has from time immemorial drifted into decay, with hatred, killings, theft and all sorts of vices holding sway. No doubt, the drama has not been silent about this. Morality plays emerged in the bid to explore and “describe the lives of people facing the temptations of the world,” and “the plays are careful to present a warning to the unwary that their souls are always in peril, and that the devil is on constant watch, and that people must behave properly if they are to be saved” (Awuawuer 68). During the medieval period, through allegory, morality plays drove home moral consciousness and by effect served as a compass to the human conscience. Among such plays include the anonymous Everyman and Christopher Marlowe’s Doctor Faustus. Drama goes beyond entertainment and pleasure,

Navigating morality in the plays of Stella Oyedepo 41

as it possesses the ability the teach morals and instil sanity in the insane. According to Biodun Jeyifo: …drama deals at a highly concentrated… intense level with the contradictions of social existence. A dramatic piece which does not, in one form or another, deploy as its organizing structural criteria, a physical or emotional conflict, a moral or spiritual contest of wills, a confrontation between contending principles, is almost inconceivable. Equally important is the fact that drama does not merely subsume conflict merely as its organizing structural motif, beyond this; drama also axiomatically attempts a resolution. (qtd. in Ogunleye 9) Drama serves as a tool through which the socio-political state of society is brought to bear and alternatives for a better society are offered to the reader or audience (in the case of performance) to create a society where individuals are morally conscious. In Nigeria, the dearth of moral consciousness tragically permeates existence, whether socially, economically, politically or in the religious sphere. The Nigerian reality is bedevilled by decadence – from fraudulent acts to nepotism in the corporate and religious sectors to political corruption and thuggery as well as a diverse array of crimes in the rest of society. On this matter, Adewumi and Akinkurolere (13) have observed as follows: …there are glaring social vices, social decadence prevailing in nearly all the facets of the economy…. The moral debasement in our society cannot be overemphasized because moral virtues had been thrown into the wind due to the various negative acts and deeds of majority of the population within the society. There is no doubt that the Nigerian society is experiencing a significant level of moral decadence today. Drama, which is practical and which deals with the enactment of human action, has been able to capture the complexities of human existence. In Nigeria, drama has over the years functioned as the conscience of society, since society is made up of people. Several Nigerian playwrights have tried to represent, reflect and capture the decadent state of Nigeria’s society and provide a moral alternative to a habitable society. For instance, Wole Soyinka satirically reveals the decadent state of the African political milieu in A Play of Giants, as well as religious charlatanism in Nigeria in The Trials of Brother Jero. Similarly, Ola Rotimi’s Kurunmi depicts the imperative of moral consciousness in Kurunmi. Femi Osofisan’s plays also capture socioeconomic decadence, for instance, in Once Upon Four Robbers. Olu Obafemi’s Naira Has No Gender chronicles the prevalence of corruption, nepotism and socioeconomic vices among those in power. Indeed, several playwrights have attempted to tackle

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the challenge of the dearth of morality in Nigerian society. Among such playwrights are female writers such as Zulu Sofola, Tess Onwueme, Stella Dia Oyedepo, Irene Salami, Julie Okoh, Onyeka Iwuchukwu, Bosede AdemiluaAfolayan and Teresa Meniru, whose works have been interpreted more from a feminist cum gender perspective than from the perspective of morality. To close this gap, this chapter, therefore, identifies the moralistic value of the writings of a contemporary Nigerian female playwright, Stella Dia Oyedepo. The chapter argues that beyond the feminist interpretation that the works of Stella Oyedepo may attract, they also serve as a moral compass to society. Two representative plays are analysed and interpreted based on the psychoanalytic concept of superego and the Yoruba philosophical concept of omoluabi.

Freud’s superego and the Yoruba sociophilosophical concept of omoluabi The essence of a theoretical or conceptual framework for literary analysis is solely to provide an interpretative tool through which the research is situated. As a result, this article deploys a combination of the psychoanalytic concept of superego and the Yoruba socio-philosophical concept of omoluabi. Psychoanalysis seeks to explain the activities in the mind and how they inform a person’s actions, since most times humans actions are motivated by unconscious activities. A concept with roots in medicine, where it functions as a therapeutic tool, psychoanalysis made its way into literature as a tool for probing into the minds of characters to identify the activities that guide their conscious actions. The field of psychoanalysis was founded in the late 19th century by Austrian psychiatrist Sigmund Freud during his clinical observations of patients. Today, literary critics deploy the psychoanalytic concept of the superego to analyse characters solely from the perspective of the psychological underpinnings that lead to action. Regarding the “focus on motives” in psychoanalysis, Hossain (41) notes that “it focuses on hidden or disguised motives which help to clarify literature on two levels, the level of writing itself and the level of character action within the text.” This means that in literature, psychoanalysis is used to investigate the mind of the text and the characters in the text. Although the Freudian psychoanalytic theory has many concepts, in this chapter, the focus is on the trio of Id, Ego and Superego. The Id is seen as the seat of the unconscious, the incubator where desires, needs and pleasure are birthed. The Id knows no restriction because it is not exposed to external factors that may inhibit the uncontrolled desire for pleasure and needs. Succinctly put, the Id refers to a selfish, primitive, childish, pleasure-oriented part of the personality with no ability to delay gratification (Hossain 43). On its part, the Ego is that part of the human psyche that bridges the Id and the Superego. It mediates between the uncontrolled drive of the Id and the need for self-preservation. This is the part of the human psyche that is responsible

Navigating morality in the plays of Stella Oyedepo 43

for impulse, control, perception, evaluation and judgement. Hossein (43) asserts that the Ego can be “viewed as our sense of time and place.” This means that the Ego straddles the Id and the Superego. The Superego represents the personality of an individual; it controls the moral and ethical standards prescribed by society. The superego passes these standards to the ego, which operates on the signals received from the superego. This means that the superego is regarded as the consciousness cum conscience of the individual. It is that part of the human psyche that identifies what is right or wrong. Hossein (43) describes the superego as the “internalised societal and parental standards of ‘good’ and ‘bad’, ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ behavior.” These tripartite psychic parts are the agents behind individual actions. In this essay, the plays of Stella Oyedepo will serve as the superego-omoluabi, which functions as a moral compass. Since the superego is that part of the subconscious that distinguishes between right and wrong, and that judges from external activities, Stella Oyedepo’s plays will be viewed as the superego, which impresses moral standards and ethics in the minds of readers towards an ideal society. As such, the plays are viewed as directing the readers’ unconscious towards what is right and ideal for individuals. In this chapter, the superego is represented by the Yoruba concept of omoluabi, an indigenous concept that prescribes the right mannerism and conduct of an individual in a specific social milieu. The concept of omoluabi stems from the belief that a person has to exhibit certain behavioural traits to qualify as responsible and reputable in society. O . mo.lúàbí is the philosophical and cultural concept used by the Yorùbá to describe someone of good and virtuous nature. Concerning social virtues, the Yorùbá omo.lúàbí has been described as “virtuous, loving and kind” (Adebowale and Onayemi 5). Fayemi (167) notes that “omoluabi” is an adjectival phrase, which he breaks down as follows: o.mo. + tí + Olú + ìwà + bí. Literally translated and separated, o.mo. means child, tí means that or which, olú-ìwà means the chief or master of Ìwà (character), bí means born. When combined, omolúàbí translates as “the baby begotten by the chief of ìwà.” Such a child is thought of as a paragon of excellence in character. This means that good character is seen as the apex of virtue for an individual in the Yoruba society. It is important to note that the Omoluabi ideology is prescriptive since it specifies the way an individual ought to live in a given society. According to Akanbi and Jekayinfa (13), The end of Yoruba traditional education is to make every individual “Omoluabi.” To be “Omoluabi” is to be of good character. That is why the goal of Yoruba traditional education has always been to foster a strong character in the individual and to prepare each person to become a useful member of the community.

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In his paper, Oke (19) makes the same point: The ultimate and perfect character a human being could have is regarded as an Omoluabi. It is so important to the Yoruba that they bring their children up not only to recognise and admire the principles of being an Omoluabi but to also strive to be one. Being an Omoluabi does not depend on wealth or societal status. Certain salient attributes are to be exhibited by an individual who qualifies as an Omoluabi. Oyerinde states that the attributes of o.mo.lúàbí include respect for old age, loyalty to one’s parents and local traditions, honesty in all public and private dealings, sociability, courage … and many other qualities necessary for keeping together the large centres of the population, as characteristic of Yorùbá people (quoted in Adedayo 2). Therefore, the attainment of these attributes by an individual is the realisation of the omoluabi virtue. This chapter synthesises the psychoanalytic concept of superego and the omoluabi ideology. The Superego is the voice of conscience and good character, hence it is a product of awareness of the omoluabi ethic, and the characteristics of an omoluabi are seen as the standard of morality in the play. Consequently, the characters are analysed based on how convincingly they portray the superego-omoluabi character in the play. Thus, the omoluabi becomes the superego, signifying the moral uprightness of characters in the plays. The plays are seen as impressing the superego-omoluabi ideal in the minds of readers, thus serving as a tool for moral consciousness in the reader’s unconscious.

Morality and the omoluabi-superego ideal in Oyedepo’s see and the dainty and the dirty The play See graphically dramatises a decaying society. Meticulous characterisation and intelligent dialogue combine to make See a play about moral conscience. Through dialogue and action, the playwright dwells on the dominance of the id, that subconscious part of the mind given to pleasure and lacking logical reasoning. Id dominance is the root cause of immorality in the society since the id is a selfish, primitive, childish pleasure-oriented part of the personality with no ability to delay gratification (Hossain 43). Consequently, the id naturally inhibits the omoluabi personality, which is characterised by honesty, good character, diligence and discipline (Oke 35–39). Apparently, a character whose Id finds expression the most cannot effectively display the omoluabi personality. Consequently, we must view the superego as part of the personality that matches the omoluabi ideal. It is that part of the personality that “seeks to enforce the striving for perfection, as it holds out to the ego ideal standards and moralistic goals. As a consequence, the superego is ‘conscience’ of the personality, and it can retaliate against the imperfections of the ego by inducing guilt” (Lapsley and Stey 6)

Navigating morality in the plays of Stella Oyedepo 45

From the above submission by Lapsey and Stey, it may be deduced that the superego produces an omoluabi personality in a character owing to the presence and dominance of the superego in the characters’ psyche. The play See begins in a tense atmosphere, as the opening scene reveals the dearth of moral conscience and social order. The narrators, Akoni and Ari, open the play by lamenting on the tragedy that comes with slavery and the deflowering of the African soil by the European, who, in the voice of Akoni, has nothing pure of his own (Oyedepo 3). Oyedepo (1), thus, starts with a wake-up call to Africa, urging the continent to rise from the slumber of death, mental and physical servitude and pessimism, just as she calls on the continent to see the dying children and the sufferings of the black race. The narrators’ lament, thus, signifies the tragedy bedevilling the African continent. This tragic reality is clear in Ari’s statement: ARI:  They

were set free…set free… But the irreparable damage had already been done. Once a slave, a slave forever. The children of slaves are themselves slaves. (Oyedepo 6)

As events unfold in the play, it becomes clear that the children have become slaves to pleasure, greed, immediate gratification, as well as slaves to the id, hence the dearth of the omoluabi-superego. Oyedepo (16–19), therefore, deploys narrators Ari and Akoni to summon the Creator so that he can “see” for himself what the world he created has become. In Action 5, we are made to see the tragedy that comes with ideological and religious fanaticism and dogmatism. Ari explain: AKONI:  They

say they are fighting just and laudable causes…laudable causes they call it when they fight on account of religion, ethnic intolerance, ideological differences and territorial demarcation.

Akoni and Ari also comment on the destructive nature of humanity: AKONI:  A

man has perfected the most lethal weapons that can destroy this planet in a matter of minutes. ARI:  Messenger of the Maker, take note, a cranky scientist may destroy the work of your Master in five minutes with nuclear bomb. (Oyedepo 20-21). The above reality strongly contradicts the omoluabi-superego ideal, which is rational, humanistic and virtuous. Oyedepo, thus, shows that the world is in a morally deplorable state and will become worse if the situation is left unchecked. Regarding the threat of nuclear weapons in today’s world, the rift between the United States and Iran (as of December 2019 and January 2020) is representative of the horrid reality portrayed in Oyedepo’s play, See. In Action Six, Oyedepo presents another manifestation of the absence of the omoluabi-superego. This is seen in the inhumane action of Chief Olowona,

46  Bankole Oluwaseun Wright

who delights in trampling upon the poor despite his wealth. Chief Olowona is greedy, selfish, fraudulent and inhumane. Oyedepo (30) simply calls us to question the wealthy, to ponder on the source of their wealth. According to Adewumi and Akinkurolere (13), “socially speaking, hardly is there any nation worldwide with gleaming social life without its social vices which is peculiar with the social misfits within the society” (Adewumi and Akinkurolere 33-34). These observations are reinforced in the play, as the playwright portrays the desperation of job seekers who tamper with records to secure jobs, especially by reducing their ages. At the level of socio-economic decadence, we see all sorts of seeming escape routes exhibited by several individuals, who engage in varied immoral acts. Oyedepo reveals the seemingly negative effect of Money, “the M-Factor.” The narrators explain: AKONI: The

M-Factor decides life, its quality, freedom and all. Great Messenger, tell your Master that it was a mistake to have put the control of the M-Factor in the hands of man. Man has greedily and selfishly manipulated it to the destruction of his fellow men. ARI:  We know that all evils gestate in the womb of the M-Factor. If there wasn’t money, man would have a much cleaner record. (Pause) (Oyedepo 45) Based on these comments from the narrators, Oyedepo highlights the malaise that emerges from the illicit longing for wealth and affluence. She notes that many people do unthinkable things to acquire money, which is seen as a symbol of wealth and affluence. The inordinate desire for the M-Factor gives birth to all sorts of immorality that contradict the omoluabi-superego ideal. Oyedepo portrays the dominance of the id, that part of the human psyche given to pleasure and immediate gratification, the seat of all sorts of immoral vices. The illicit desire for the M-Factor, as well as the tragedy that comes with the desperation to acquire it, is further revealed through the manipulative action of religious leaders, as captured in Action Ten. The first and second preachers represent the reality of religious manipulation, which finds expression in our society. Nowadays, clerics of the Christian and Islamic faiths have no qualms swindling gullible congregants in the name of helping them receive blessings from God. Congregants are manipulated by being asked to compulsorily pay tithes and first fruit offering, in addition to being asked to make other forms of material sacrifice by smooth-talking “men of God” (Oyedepo 52). Although many of the pastors claim that healing is free, they end up paying for it (50). Through the narrators, Oyedepo helps us to see the rot in Christendom: IST PREACHER:  …in

the name of the Lord! I need one hundred people from this congregation to donate five thousand naira only each in order to pay for the chartered flight. In the name of the Lord! Come out now before I count 1 to 5. One… (51)

Navigating morality in the plays of Stella Oyedepo 47

When 100 people pay 5,000 naira each, then the preachers are enriched with about 500,000 naira. The money, which would have benefitted the poor, becomes gain for one or two individuals. Hence, the pastors are enriched from the pockets of the poor, the gullible poor. One of the narrators explicitly states: ARI:  God’s

blessings indeed! Through the fear-induced generous and docile donations of the congregation who incredibly have allowed their souls and minds to be enslaved. (52) From this, we can see that even religion, which seems to be a haven for many, is not safe anymore, as it has become a den of thieves, fraudsters and manipulative individuals hiding under the aegis of being called of God (50). ARI succinctly puts it thus: If religion, which is believed to be the opium of the weak and the downtrodden, has become so polluted, then where is our hope? If religion that is believed to wake up the conscience of the people is itself suffering from a serious malaise…then where is our salvation? (54)

The absence of the omoluabi-superego ideal is sadly absent in the affairs of these individuals who claim to be the voice of God but have become: ARI:  …smart

polluters of religion who set up fake worship places. They are insincerely committed to the cause of religion. What they are honestly pursuing is naked materialism and self-promotion. (54)

Oyedepo is implying that no one is free from immoral acts, hence she calls attention to the decadence prevalent in the society to awaken the conscience of her readers and proffer solutions for a better society. Through the spectacle of human activities displayed and narrated by Ari and Akoni to the Creator’s Messenger, Oyedepo reveals the extremely deplorable state of the world, the intense expression of the absence of the omoluabi-superego, which has made living fearful and uncomfortable. However, Oyedepo, as an intelligent and humanistic playwright, proffers possible solutions to the state of the earth. She does this through the statements of the Creator’s Messenger: CREATOR’S MESSENGER: 

Now listen, you human creatures! The Siamese disease of your life here on this planet is selfish greed and materialism. Cure these diseases and your planet will be turned into an Elysian Field, a place of happiness. (58)

The statement by the Creator’s Messenger is absolute. Oyedepo desires to create a better world, a moral society, a society where the omoluabisuperego dominates, that world full of persons who are rational, moral, humane, have respect for all and are committed to building a good and habitable society. Oyedepo’s See, thus, serves a veritable moral compass to

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her readers, as it captures the social, economic and political reflections of the deficiency in moral uprightness and its adverse effects on our world. Similarly, Oyedepo’s The Dainty and the Dirty captures issues of immorality, beginning at the family level. The play captures issues of family dysfunction, greed and discontentment, among other forms of decadence. Stella Oyedepo uses the main character, Kofo Onileowo, to navigate the events through which several characters display moral decadence at different levels. Before we move on, it is important to reiterate that the superego-omoluabi ideal, which is the conceptual backdrop of this essay, posits that for a society to achieve peace and tranquillity, individual characters inhabiting it must exhibit good character. In the same vein, Adedayo (2) avers that “before anybody or an individual could be referred to as Omoluabi, the person must possess some traits of virtuous, loving, caring and kind. An Omoluabi person must always be concerned about people than himself/herself that is why people refer to Omoluabi as a different individual.” From these attributes of the Omoluabi, it is observed that an individual who possesses these virtues simply has the superego psyche as the dominant part. Characterisation in The Dainty and the Dirty is, therefore, explored based on the manifestation of the superego-omoluabi or otherwise. The play opens with a couple struck with a deadly disease expressing anguish regarding their tragic reality and the loss of their children – one mad and the other nowhere to be found. This child who abandons them is Kofo Onileowo. The main character of the play lacks the superego-omoluabi ideal, considering that she abandons her parents simply because she does not want to contract their deadly ailment. She tells her parent: KOFO: …You

can see that we do not belong to the same world anymore. I escaped from the misery and wretchedness, never to return to it. I cannot stay. My precious glowing skin must be protected from contamination. (16)

Kofo abandons her family to protect her skin, the skin being symbolic of the different personal ambitions and goals that individuals seem to pursue at the expense of their family. Oyedepo dramatises the desire to place the achievement of personal goals over a family. Hence, as Kofo’s action demonstrates that the family is jettisoned for the achievement of personal desires. Kofo, therefore, lacks the virtues of patience, hope, faith and delayed gratification, which are the ideals of the superego-omoluabi. Kofo is given to promiscuity, lying and manipulation. She pretends to be a daughter of business moguls, whereas her parents are in the bush suffering from a deadly disease (25–26). Kofo is a supposedly classy lady who relates with only the rich and disregards the seemingly poor ones. An example is how she treats her boyfriend Samie:

Navigating morality in the plays of Stella Oyedepo 49 KOFO:  Look,

you told me that you are chronically broke. Ever-broke-onthe-first-of-the-month type. You see, you shouldn’t feel crazy about me if money is your problem. Anyway, every man has his usefulness. I do at least appreciate the help you render to me. You regularly launder my dresses every weekend. That is something. (26)

The above statement by Kofo reveals that she uses men for her gain. To her, it is either a man who serves as an Automated Teller Machine, providing financial gains, or he serves a houseboy washing her clothes. Kofo is extremely beautiful and her glowing skin seems to be her greatest asset. Several men desire to have her as their lady and she practically uses them. (28) The immoral acts of Kofo find expression as she attempts to destroy a family, the family of her lover Siraj, who abandons his wife for glowing-skin Kofo. In scene five, we see immorality in the display of unfaithfulness by Siraj, who cheats openly on his wife. Kofo is Siraj’s mistress and when she is made to confront Foluke, Siraj’s wife, she speaks boldly and unrepentantly, as though she were acting morally (36). Through the altercation and affront that occurs between Siraj and Foluke, we can discover that Siraj garnered his wealth illegally, who says: …you have amassed ill-gotten wealth. How much sweat did you put into amassing all the property and wealth? You’ve perfected the art of glib-talks. With sugarcoated encomium for those who matter in government, you get what you want. You line the purse of government officials with rotten bribes (39). However, what seems quite scary is that Siraj calls his corrupt actions “Smartness” (39). Through Siraj’s statement, we can see the stench of socioeconomic malaise that seems to have fouled up society. Kofo is not the only one lacking the superego-omoluabi ideal, as even characters like Siraj display a deep dearth of this ideal, a lack of moral consciousness. Kofo’s flamboyant and morally decadent lifestyle seems to be on the rise as the play progresses. She manipulates her way into men’s lives to achieve her desires. Her glowing skin is her greatest asset, her tool for financial gains. Kofo is willing to give her body to achieve whatever she so desires. This also comes to the fore during the pageantry competition as she manipulates her way into becoming the Miss Glow Skin. This is revealed in the protests of the contestants: 1ST CONTESTANT:  We want to say that we don’t trust in the judges’ decision. 3RD CONTESTANT:  We are reliably informed that three of the judges and the

Chief Host himself are boy-friends to the winner. (49; 50) The Miss Glow Skin pageantry competition is characterised by corruption and favouritism. Kofo manipulates her way to winning the competition. As the play progresses, Kofo’s parents are eventually healed of the diseases and are set to return to human settlement. However, Kofo suddenly wakes up to find the disease on her body. Here, we see a reversal of fortune:

50  Bankole Oluwaseun Wright

The dainty Kofo eventually becomes dirty. Unfortunately, at this point, she has got no one to turn to, as all the men she had previously used deserted her. She faces betrayal and rejection from lovers and friends who were only interested in her body, her asset (Oyedepo 64–65). Kofo becomes a rejected object, although she has already passed the disease on to her lovers, including her doctor (Oyedepo 73). From this incident, it is clear that Oyedepo simply tries to show that the consequences of moral dearth do not just affect the immoral individual alone but also the entire community. Kofo becomes the bringer of a deadly disease to people’s families, as is the case of Dr Hassan (Oyedepo 73). The effects of moral decadence on the individual are utterly tragic. This is what Oyedepo captures in The Dainty and the Dirty. Going back to where her parents were, Kofo discovers that her parents have been healed and have left the bush. As she seeks a cure, Tayo, a fellow disease-stricken man and Baba Awo, the herbalist who cured Kofo’s parents, desires to take her as a wife. They both argue and in the course of arguing Baba Awo slumps and dies, thus ending her only hope for a cure. In this play, Oyedepo pricks our conscience as she instructs us to value our family because when all is lost the family is where we will find succour. She also reveals how moral putrefaction automatically causes a gap in families and the effect is usually tragic.

Conclusion Contrary to popular critical evaluation of Stella Oyedepo as a feminist critic (Yeseibo 2012; Adeleke 2017; Jeremiah 2014; Yeseibo 2013), the analysis undertaken here suggests that she is a moralist whose works serve as a moral compass to her readers. I believe, beyond the quest for gender equality, Stella Oyedepo’s plays have considerable effects on the moral conscience of her readers. To a large extent, she contributes to building a moral society, one full of individuals who constantly reflect on the superego-omoluabi ideal in the bid to create a morally upright society that is habitable for all. It is important to note that female characters are not exempted from the portrayal of the dearth of morality, as every gender at one level or another displays character traits that contradict the superego-omoluabi ideal. Consequently, Oyedepo shows in her plays that the problem of moral decadence does not apply to one gender. She reveals that the scourge of immorality should be tackled by both sexes irrespective of age. Even more significantly, Oyedepo seems to argue that change must begin at the individual level. For instance, in See, the Creator’s Messenger points out that greed must be eradicated from the earth, and this cannot be achieved until individuals take the responsibility to eradicate greed in their individual lives. A similar theme is pursued in The Dainty and the Dirty, where Kofo’s loneliness and abandonment illustrate the individual’s role in the achievement of social change. With Kofo abandoned by all, she is left alone to find her healing.

Navigating morality in the plays of Stella Oyedepo 51

Works cited Adebowale, Bosede. A. and Onayemi, Folake. “Aristotle’s Human Virtue and Yorùbá Worldview of O . mo.lúàbí: An Ethical-Cultural Interpretation.” African Philosophical Inquiry. Vol. 6, 2016, pp. 27–44. Adedayo, Muyiwa Samuel. “The Concept of Omoluabi and Political Development in Nigeria: The Missing Gap.” IOSR Journal of Humanities and Social Science. Vol. 23, No. 3, 2018, pp. 01–07. Print. Adewumi, Samuel I. & Akinkurolere, Susan O. “The Moral, Social and Political Decadence in the Nigerian Society: A Case Study of Femi Osofisan’s Midnight Hotel.” Research on Humanities and Social Sciences. Vol. 3, No. 15, 2013, pp. 10–15. Print. Akanbi, G.O. and Jekayinfa A. A. “Reviving the African Culture of ‘Omoluabi’ in the Yoruba Race as a Means of Adding Value to Education in Nigeria.” International Journal of Modern Education Research. Vol. 3, No. 3, 2016, pp. 13–19. Print. Awuawuer, T.J. “Moralist Discourse in Nigerian Drama and Theatre: A Critique of Ogunleye’s Jabulile.” Creative Artist: A Journal of Theatre and Media Studies. Vol. 10, No. 1, pp. 66–81. Print. Fayemi, A. K. “Human Personality and the Yoruba Worldview: An Ethico-Sociological Interpretation.” The Journal of Pan-African Studies. Vol. 2, p. 166. Gert, Bernard. The Definition of Morality. Stanford Encyclopaedia of Philosophy. 2016. Web. 13 Nov. 2019. https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/morality-definition/. Hossain, Mahroof. “Psychoanalytic Theory Used in English Literature: A Descriptive Study.” Global Journal of Human-Social Science: G Linguistics & Education. Vol. 17, No. 1, 2017, pp. 41–46. Print. Johnson, S. The History of the Yoruba. Lagos: C. S. S Bookshops, 1921. Print. Lapsley, Daniel & Stey, Paul. “Id, Ego and Superego.” in V. S. Ramachandran (ed.) Encyclopedia of Human Behaviour, 2nd edition. Elsevier, 2011. Odinye, Ifeoma. E. “Social and Moral Values in African Literature: A Study of Ikechukwu Asika’s Tamara.” AJELLS. Vol. 6, No 1, 2015, pp. 76–95. Print. Ogunleye M. “Thespians and Cineastes as Engineers of the Nigerian Soul.” Inaugural Lecture Series Obafemi Awolowo University, Ile-Ife, 2012. Oke, Olusegun Peter. “Plea Bargaining and the Religious cum Socio-Cultural Concept of Yoruba in the Nigerian Political Landscape.” Ilorin Journal of Religious Studies. Vol. 6, No. 1, 2016, pp. 31–46. Print. Oyedepo, Stella ‘Dia. See. Ilorin: Delstar Publishers, 1997. Print. Oyedepo, Stella ‘Dia. The Dainty and the Dirty. Abuja: LOVGO Publications, 2004. Print. Phillip Sydney “Defense of Poesy” (938) quoted in Kaplan and Anderson. Criticism: Major Statements. Boston: Bedford/St. Martin’s, 1999.

4

Rethinking the female image in Irene Salami’s Sweet Revenge and More than Dancing Elijah Adeoluwa Olusegun

Introduction In Nigeria’s literary drama, the image and representation of female characters have been redefined over time, especially in the light of contemporary critical literary traditions such as Feminism, Womanism, Marxism, New Historicism, and African Womanism, among others. The awareness, through critiques, of the changing role(s) of women in male-female relationships across social, cultural and political landscapes has resulted in diverse portraiture of female characters. Plays are increasingly centred on feminine issues in the struggle against misrepresentation of female characters in the contemporary literature. The first-generation Nigerian playwrights such as Wole Soyinka, J.P. Clark, Ola Rotimi, Zulu Sofola stand accused of depicting female characters in ways that bordered on acquiescence to patriarchal structures. The propensity was to either have men dominate women or capture and subjugate them to domestic affairs. For instance, in Soyinka’s The Lion and the Jewel (1962), as well as Death and the King’s Horseman (1975), female characters such as Sadiku and Iyaloja, who display strong maternal instincts, are helpless when young girls such as Sidi, and the young brides are netted by the egoistic Baroka and Elesin. In the same vein, Ola Rotimis’s Our Husband has Gone Mad Again (1977) depicts a self-seeking, opportunistic Lekoja-Brown, who has many wives for different reasons, one of whom is an American Lekoja-Brown objectifying as a symbol, capable of elevating his status. His political ambition is predicated on the role(s) the different women perform. Another female, Ebiere in J.P. Clarks’ Song of a Goat (1961) is depicted, not as the victim of male impotence, but as a destroyer of hegemonic custom of traditionally defined roles in marriage. Zulu Sofola, a female dramatist, in Wedlock of the Gods (1973), does not radically alter the perceived male supremacy in her play as her female character, Ogwoma is blamed for not respecting tradition. Most of the first-generation Nigerian plays reflect many traditional assumptions on gender roles, seemingly sustained for societal harmony. This position is not without its merits, as these plays reflect the cultural values of the playwrights’ society in that period.

Rethinking the female image 53

Background This chapter argues that distinct sensibilities of women that reflect positive values such as maternal instincts, home-making, courage, love, organisation and even leadership were rarely developed by the first-generation playwrights. This is blamed on the basis of two factors: 1 Most of the plays were written by male playwrights with a tendency to dwell on macho, male-oriented topics such as strength, vitality, courage, dominance, power and other such patriarchal tendencies that characterised traditional Nigerian society. 2 The focus of these plays caused men to be the more dominant characters. Most male characters were tested for their courage and strength of character, compared to the females, portrayed in the majority of plays by earlier male playwrights such as Wole Soyinka, Ola Rotimi and J. P. Clark. As a result, women were usually cast as support characters to perpetrate male hegemony in vital decision-making processes. With the emergence of new dramatists and increasing literary consciousness, with arguments for inclusiveness and more focus on the role of women in society, the narrative has evolved. Female playwrights have also gained prominence, as they contest earlier dramatists’ misrepresentations of women and their roles. Dramatists countering stereotypical female roles have been referred to as second-generation playwrights. They include Femi Osofisan, Tess Onwueme, Ahmed Yerima, Tunde Fatunde, Bode Sowande, Akinwunmi Ishola, Lekan Balogun, Stella Oyedepo, Julie Okoh and Irene Salami. They delve into popular myths about women and challenge unpopular opinions in Nigerian literary drama. They represent women as capable of provoking social change through collective actions. Most of their plays not only become propaganda on the growing influence of women on the social setting such as the family and society but also cite instances of historical, cultural, economic and political awareness of women in nation building. Plays such as Osofisan’s Women of Owu (2006), Morountodun (1982), Twyngle Twangle (1991), Tegoni (2007), Yerima’s Erelu Kuti (2006), Ishola’s Madam Tinubu (1998), Sowande’s Farewell to Babylon (1979), Balogun’s Moremi (2015), Oyedepo’s The Rebellion of the Bumpy-chested (2002), Onwueme’s The Broken Calabash (1984) and Reign of Wazobia (1988) focus on the vibrancy of women, their energetic display of wit, intelligence, social and cultural awareness as well as their emancipation. The image and representation of women, thus, shifts from the domesticated woman to the enforcer of change. This vigorous depiction of women is not unconnected to the playwrights’ sensibilities of the changing social circumstances of women in the society. In some of these plays, Osofisan’s Morountodun, and Tess Onwueme’s Reign of Wazobia, for instance, we see women (Titubi and Wazobia, respectively)

54  Elijah Adeoluwa Olusegun

portrayed as stepping beyond the bounds of social construction of patriarchal domination with great implication for their relevance. They face male chauvinistic misconceptions about their power and ability to hold on to the reins of leadership. We see a similar evolution of female characters in the two plays under review.

A new image of the woman A rethink on the image and roles of women in Nigeria literary drama has been forced in the wake of arguments by feminists, and counter discourses by Africans, centred majorly on African Womanism. This necessitates a reading of principles of Africana Womanism espoused by Clenora HudsonWeems (1993), as it relates to the plays of Irene Salami – Sweet Revenge and More Than Dancing. Africana Womanism is grounded in African culture and Afrocentrism as well as the experiences of women, their struggles, their needs and desires as they pursue the ultimate fulfilment in their natural environment. It expands on the following characteristics: self-naming, adaptability, mothering, recognition, desiring positive male companionship, ambition and self-definition (Hudson-Weems 38–39). Grounding the theory of Africana Womanism in self-naming and self-definition, Hudson-Weems identifies distinct characteristics (in addition to the above; genuineness in sisterhood, family-centred, whole authentic, role player, flexible, ancestral reverence, etc.) that shape the unique experiences of the African woman’s struggle towards actualisation of equal opportunity for women in political, social and economic development. In this struggle for a new image of the woman, Hudson-Weems contends that there is need to “prioritize the need for human dignity and parity” rather than racism and sexism, which characterise feminist ideologies. Africana Womanism identifies “the participation and the role of women in the struggle” where societal gender problems as critical issues need to be resolved (Clenora Hudson-Weems 40). This struggle is then geared towards the overall development of the society. The misrepresentation of women’s role which Nigeria’s first-generation dramatists are accused of then becomes the site of contestation amongst the younger generations who sought vehemently to change the perspectives of the female image in Nigerian drama. The change in perspectives about the roles of women is, however, not without challenges. The challenges which they face in both traditional and modern Nigerian society, those in which Salami, other playwrights and critics participate fully, are overridden by the politics of leadership through democracy where opportunity for both male and female characters is overwhelmingly in favour of the male characters. Through their plays, and sometimes a historical re-assessment of the importance of women in the society, these playwrights propagate equal opportunities for women in the struggle for self-actualisation. The conscious awakening of women in the socio-political environment has led to a new image of the woman as she vies for social and political space with her male counterparts. This new thinking

Rethinking the female image 55

has engaged feminists and African Womanist discourses (in different ways) in the continued struggle for fundamental changes in male/female relations in order to recognise women as equal participants in the development process of nation building (Collins 57–60; Hudson-Weems 37–40). Therefore, the sensibilities of women are greatly enhanced by these playwrights’ creative portrayal of capable women in leadership positions. It is the acute awareness of the women as well as their passionate contributions to Nigerian literature that has engendered this article’s attempt at rethinking the image the society has forced on them. This new awareness is at the heart of Irene Salami’s reconceptualisation of popular Nigerian myths about women as she seeks to re-interpret the role of women and the image they portray in political and social discourse in Nigeria’s literary and political environment. She rightly labels More than Dancing as a propaganda play with an attempt at raising the level of awareness of women’s participation in politics and their roles in nation building.

Sweet Revenge: The limit of oppression Irene Salami’s Sweet Revenge (2004) is the story of Aisosa as she struggles to maintain her position in her husband’s life. Aisosa is cast as a diligent and dutiful wife, who abandons her ambition and career as a consultant gynaecologist in order to take care of her family while her husband, Sota, is away in the United Kingdom for studies. While Sota is away, the country’s system of government has transitioned from military dictatorship to democracy. On his return, Aisosa has garnered a lot of goodwill in the public sphere and as a result, Sota is advised to vie for a senatorial position. He has the backing of the majority of women, (because of Aisosa) who become his support base and primary constituents. Sota wins the election and begins to distance himself from his people instantaneously. He also abandons Aisosa and evicts her from his house. During his studies abroad, Sota marries Cheryl, but keeps the existence of Aisosa a secret. The eviction of Aisosa paves the way for Cheryl to don the tag of “first lady.” Aisosa finds solace in her friend, Ede, who encourages her to pursue abandoned dreams. Aisosa takes the advice and returns to medical practice. In time, her fortune changes and she becomes internationally renowned. Her estranged husband’s political career begins to plummet when his embezzlement of public funds is uncovered. Aisosa is encouraged to compete against her ex-husband for the public seat he occupies. She wins the election and her political and social relevance skyrockets while that of Sota’s nosedives. Sota then seeks a return to their former life as husband and wife, but Aisosa refuses. She has emancipated herself and evolves into a self-confident and self-reliant woman. A critical examination of the female image in Sweet Revenge shows that Salami casts her characters within political alignments with implications for family unity. Irene Salami’s Sweet Revenge (2004) constructs the image of a female character, Aisosa, who goes to great lengths to uphold and sustain the

56  Elijah Adeoluwa Olusegun

dignity of her husband, Sota in his personal and political adventures only to be cast out of her home when Sota gains national and international prominence. Early in the play, Sota is shown to be studying in the United Kingdom, but heeds the summons to return to Nigeria to take up political appointment. On his return, he becomes a prominent player in the political recalculations of the country, with acknowledgement of his wife’s support and forbearance: SOTA:  …

Like a dutiful wife, she obeyed. She has faithfully waited for my return all these years. I have fabricated tales after tales each day to explain my prolonged stay here in England. (Salami 1)

Aisosa complied with the cultural assumptions of a woman being obedient, respectful and dutiful to her husband. She does not complain and singlehandedly builds her home. Her personality is subsumed into her husband’s personality, even when she does not enjoy the same reverential treatment from him. She sacrifices heritage, inheritance, career and means of livelihood to support her husband’s pursuits, at any cost. Aisosa is cast in the frame of a sacrificial character, culturally scripted to submit self-will for the good of others, hence, she happily denies herself some comfort so that her husband and children will be comfortable. This image of docility has dominated Nigeria’s literary drama, where women are seen as incapable of independence with self-worth tied to her family. Politics is considered too dangerous for women’s active participation, but rather they need to play a supportive wife role. Sota, on the other hand, views politics as a “window of opportunity,” which is exclusively male-dominated. For a character like Sota, he sees it as an opportunity for ego-tripping. Politics is a means to be in the public glare where one must be seen as exuding male traits such as courage, strength and resourcefulness. With his academic acumen, which he believes qualifies him way ahead of other characters, he regards Aisosa as not a fit and proper wife to occupy the exalted “First Lady” role. Whereas, before his election into political office, he rides on the good fortunes of his wife and the goodwill accorded to her to gain widespread support from women. For this, he casts Aisosa aside for his foreign wife, Cheryl, neglecting all the years of sacrifice Aisosa put into making their family united and firm. This marginalised image of the woman is considered as only good for supporting their husbands to achieve personal desires to which the woman will be content to accept any role defined by the man. This accounts for why the male characters feel that women are objects of acquisition to be acquired and dispensed with when no longer valuable. Women are, thus, seen as object(s) to be acquired and displayed as a symbol of affluence. Sota’s dialogue with Nosa reveals this mind-set: SOTA:  Well for your information, I don’t intend to take Aisosa NOSA: [ Jumps up]. What? Sota are you out of your mind?

to Abuja.

Rethinking the female image 57 SOTA:  Nosa,

I am very sane. I know what is good for me. I have my plans well laid out and Aisosa does not fit in anywhere. She does not befit my new status. NOSA:  New Status? What do you mean Sota? Aisosa does not deserve this treatment. (Salami 19) SOTA:  Well there is nothing to reconsider. I cannot change my mind. It is made up. Aisosa no longer pleases me as a wife. If my wife permits, maybe I can consider keeping her in the house here in Benin. (Salami 21) The haughtiness of Sota’s position in his inconsiderate expulsion of Aisosa after he becomes the senator paves the way for the redefinition of Aisosa. Sweet Revenge is not only concerned with how men or women become the centre of political leadership but also focuses on the role of women as a collective force in the negotiation of power from military dictatorship to civil governance. The conversation between Cheryl, Sota’s European wife and Regie reveals this much: CHERYL: 

Talks? Just talks? Of what use was that when your house was already on fire? Where were your mighty men of valour? REGIE:  Hiding in their closets. It became too dangerous for the men to do more than what they did. They supported the women anyway. CHERYL:  And the women? What about the women? REGIE:  Oh! Our dear mothers, they put in all they could. They held rallies, pleaded with the wives of military leaders, led protests marches; in fact, one woman who strongly oppose them was shot dead one early morning. She paid dearly with her life…. (Salami 9) At the forefront of political emancipation, women as well as men played active roles in securing a conducive environment for civil governance. After the struggle, people like Sota were invited to lead in the democratic dispensation due to the cultural assumptions of men as the head. With the defeat of military rule and civil political power fostered on them, the women allied themselves to their male counterpart. This effectively redefined mutual affection between male and female characters as they forged ahead to build a strong and united front against oppression. Unfortunately, the women relinquished their collective powers of leadership to the men. Sota, and by extension, some male characters trusted with power assumed themselves to be overlords. Whenever talks of equality, women’s rights or equity creep into political discourse, the male folks instantly assume an air of authority through social and cultural assumptions, reminding the women of their “place” in this relation: REGIE:  So

what Sota, so what? When we laboured for the birth of the new Nigeria, were we not called names? We were unpopular. Did we not sacrifice our time, money and life so that Nigeria would come alive

58  Elijah Adeoluwa Olusegun

again? Sota, you have a new task, fight for the women, fight with them to realise their dreams. CHERYL:  I am very sure African women can fight their own battles. From all I have heard, they are equal to the task. REGIE: Certainly, you are right, but you see Cheryl in Africa, men and women are meant to support one another even though most of the time this is not the case. (Salami 12) After Sota abandons Aisosa for Cheryl, Aisosa finds herself in a precarious condition. She is forced to redefine her relationship with Sota and re-create her image. She forges an independent existence. This perilous circumstance is not helped by the fact that Sota continues to hide the true purpose and reasons for his actions, which is to keep Cheryl and Aisosa in the dark on each other’s existence. Up till the dissolution of their marriage, Aisosa expresses how she has tried to be everything except being who she truly wants to be: AISOSA:  …

I was full of life; I was young, married to a visible person. My children had a father, your mother had a son, but for the past eight years…. I have been a father, mother, doctor, driver, tailor, nurse, extra lesson teacher, researcher, daughter in-law, and all others. (Salami 26)

The perception of various characters to women and their role is demonstrated when Aisosa finds herself in dire straits, needing to reconfigure her role in a world striving for selfless leaders. Her friend, Ese, encourages her to forget the past and create a new reality that defy the odds in the present and future for herself to correct assumed and pejorative views of career women who are past their prime. To achieve this new conception of the woman as someone who can manage her own affairs effortlessly, she pursues her abandoned career as a medical doctor. She rises astronomically up the social ladder and gains national and international recognition for the image she carves as a survivor in spite of limiting constraints of social, cultural, economic and political factors. Aisosa’s revenge arrives when she is asked to contest her husband’s political position. Moreover, as she climbs the social and political ladder, her (ex) husband’s fortune drastically declines. He loses favour with the collective power base of women, his hitherto platform for upward mobility. Cheryl also discovers the inhuman treatment Sota had meted out to Aisosa, and so she creates a female bonding that enables Aisosa to gain everything – house, position, investments that she had lost to Sota. While Sota’s fortune dwindles, he is unable to bring himself to humbly request for Aisosa’s help. His psyche still reflects the entitled mentality, which automatically expects respect and servitude of the (ex) wife: SOTA:  Please

forget the bad moments Aisosa. I am here for you now. I have come to stay for good. (Salami 82)

Rethinking the female image 59

To which Aisosa responds and confirms a new image that transcends the docile and obedient wife which had characterised the female image in Africa’s cultural and literary tradition: AISOSA: Stay

for good? Who told you I am interested in your stay? Sota, there is no need to plead. You see, let me make myself clear straight away, it won’t work. When you left me, I was ugly, jobless, old, simple, fat, flabby, a plain woman who had no name, no fame, no clothes, no money, no investment, without honour, but now, it is different. I am a world-famous woman, rich, glamorous, gracious, elegant and an accomplished woman of rank. And to crown it all, a two-time Senate President of the Federal Republic. I am a completely different Aisosa from the one you threw out on the streets many years ago. That Aisosa is gone. This is a new Aisosa. A new Aisosa with a new image. So where do you fit in? How can you cope with the new me? (Salami 82)

This new image Aisosa refers to set in motion a rethink of women’s participation in politics. Female characters evolve into a potent and powerful force that can hold their own in spite of daunting the challenges. We will experience a similar reconceptualisation of the female character’s image as the focus of Salami’s aesthetic in the play titled More than Dancing.

The female image is “More than Dancing” Irene Salami’s More than Dancing (2003) dramatises the story of women’s participation in politics. The United People’s Liberation Party is having its national convention. Different women groups come to the convention, not to contest for election into office, but to dance and entertain the men. Madam Bisi, the women leader, frowns at the frivolity level, which sees women as no more than “objects” to be paraded before men. Having a rethink, the women decide to support one of their own to vie for the position of “chairman” of the party. The language is striking. There has not been a woman leader of the party up until this time. The decision is based on their desire for equity and equal distribution of power. The women envision a future free of gender-based oppression. To corroborate the struggles for women’s liberation, the play traverses time and space to bring heroic figures of the past to the present. Some legends such as Moremi of Ife, Queen Amina of Zaria, Madam Tinubu of Lagos, Queen Kambasa of Bonny, Emotan of Benin, Funmilayo Ransome Kuti and Gambo Sawaba are revitalised on stage through various dance troupes. Their appearance breathes vitality into the women as their spirits give fresh impetus to the struggle. As the elections draw closer, the women rally around Professor Nona Odaro as the party’s flagbearer in the presidential election. Dissenting voices arise, especially from some male characters such as Sani, Madu and Terna, who believe that a woman cannot win an election for

60  Elijah Adeoluwa Olusegun

their party. Nona faces intimidating challenges from her husband, who had hitherto been supportive. She finds strength in the power of past heroines as she survives several ordeals to win the election. At the end of the play, the other players come to realise that women are powerful enough to be major and active participants in the political process, as key players in the new dispensation. The female characters in Salami’s play share a similar realisation with Onwueme’s women in Reign of Wazobia. They come to the awareness of the power of their collective voice in the grand scheme of things in the political arena. In More than Dancing, Irene Salami relies on historical and mythical images of women across Nigeria’s historical and geographical divides to explore the exemplary role women play in the connection between the past and the present and its implications for the image of women in the future. Salami draws upon popular and prominent myths about women such a Moremi of Ife, Inikpi of Igala, Emotan of Benin, Queen Amina of Zazzau, Madam Tinubu of Lagos, Queen Kambasa of Bonny, amongst others to depict women who transcend popular opinions. During times of great peril, these legends become a source of inspiration for the present generation. The play compares the precarious circumstances women find themselves in (as subordinate cast) in the present political dispensation, to the past when these legendary figures lived. Thus, the play invites us to re-evaluate the misconceptions of the image of women in times past compared to the present. In the first movement of the play, while a political convention is ongoing, “The men are gorgeously dressed and seated on the top rows while the women are seated on the lower rows. Women dance groups from various regions are seen coming in to dance, one group after the other” (Salami 1). The seating arrangement in this scene sets the stage for actions that occur in the entire play. It presents the women as below the men in terms of importance and relevance in political calculations. It suggests that men view the women as one entity without distinctiveness. This notion is buttressed by the way the women dance around and showcase their attires for the benefit of the men. The vituperation of the woman leader, Madam Bisi, as a rallying cry to the women, reflects Salami’s concern for the role women have been subjected to, and subconsciously adopted in political arrangements that place the men over the women: BISI:  …

Is dancing all we can do? Is that all we are meant for? Look at the entire dancing troupe, how many men do you see? The men have since stopped dancing… Where are the women, I ask? … Look at us (pointing at the dancers) dancing and collecting two bags of rice, one bag of salt, one carton of Maggi cubes and two wrappers to be shared among thirty-five women!… These are meant to perpetually keep us in a subordinate position. (Salami 1)

The carnival-like atmosphere allows for renewed interrogation of the image of women, as they recount their exploits over time. Although they sing

Rethinking the female image 61

and dance in celebration of womanhood and as a “contribution” to nation building, the changing perspectives to politics among them call for deeper introspection. Within the political atmosphere that dominates Salami’s play, the female characters find themselves contending with issues that border on equality in terms of representation. They are also faced with the challenge of dislodging men, who tend to have cemented their space in the political domain by only conceding positions such as “women leader” and “dance groups.” This confrontation borders on the prerogative of leadership, resulting in fierce dialogue. To challenge the men’s political dominance, the women have to identify a vacuum to fill. First, they have to produce a unifying figure devoid of ethnic sentiments among themselves, which would be the arrowhead. Secondly, they have to challenge established notions of male superiority and lastly, they have to spurn the lure of “women wounding women,” a lore of gender crisis said to be prevalent in all-women affairs. The women’s conversation in Movement Two reveals the dilemma the women face in the attempt to challenge male hegemony: NONA: 

That is fair enough, however, let us be careful and stay clear of whatever money they offer us. If we need money, we will raise it legitimately. AZIRA: No, let us take the money. The money is from our husbands; it belongs to our country. It is the taxpayers’ money. They have saved it for us. AISHA:  Nona is right. We will not touch their money. If we say we are ready to rule, we must be prepared to shun all forms of corruption. ALERO:  Left to me, I would suggest that we form an all-female party and leave UPLP for them. NONA:  …Nigeria is a country made up of men and women. Our reasons for desiring to rule are not because we want to install a government that is anti-men. No! We believe in equality and equity. People will get what they deserve because they qualify for it not because of their sex. Our government will be a human faced one, where no woman or man is oppressed. We will work to leave a legacy that will last through the ages. (Salami 8–9) The idea of creating a lasting legacy prompts a reconceptualisation of the female heroines of different times and climes, who stood for something worthwhile in spite of oppression and intimidation. The play adopts a theatrical demodulation by presenting legendary heroines from diverse ethnic backgrounds to act as inspiration for the present crop of female politicians. Their relentless pursuit of freedom from oppression points to the image of women as worthy of much more than mere dancing. The sensitisation of the women to liberty to attain political heights challenges presumed roles of subordinate characters to male counterparts. The crystallised image of women as

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only fit for “dancing” during political engagements raises vital questions for the male and female characters in Salami’s play. For some male characters in the play, their ingrained psychological perceptions of women as less deny them the opportunity to consider collaborative efforts between men and women in nation building. For others, mutual benefits could accrue from meaningful co-existence: HAKEEM:  Forget

it. Our women have come of age. They can no longer be cheated or deceived. Now, they want to participate meaningfully. SANI: What is this meaningful participation? I am sick and tired of these women. They have become so wise that it is very difficult to use them now. They are awake from their long slumber. HAKEEM:  They were never really asleep. Society was just singing a lullaby for them to sleep; now they have come out of that stupor. They are seeking their deprived space. (Salami 32) HAKEEM:  … Patriarchy, subordination of women and the deep-rooted belief that public affairs are reserved for men and that social contract is about the relationship between men and government and not citizens, coming together to exclude women notwithstanding constitutional rights and democracy. (Salami 36) In order to surmount the stereotypical prejudices against them, the women politicians unite around Prof. Nona Odaro as the rallying figure to spearhead their quest for a positive change for women, in spite of antagonism from the home front and powerful forces. Nona has her doubts about her own ability to lead the women folk. However, she draws strength from women who rally around her as well as the powerful images of legendary women figures from the past, who give her courage: MAMA NIGERIA:  Nona,

you have a lot to do. Plan ways of building confidence in women. With determination, women can reach the highest levels in government. You have to start somewhere. You have to mobilise dedicated people who are ready to make sacrifices and go all the way with you. (Salami 86)

She understands the precarious circumstances she is delving into as a politician. The political atmosphere does not allow for free and fair representation of women. But with the rallying cry for more women participation in politics and decision-makings, a new image of women as capable of upturning the scale of discrimination is carved. At the end of elections, Nona is declared the winner. The “new” image of the woman is cemented: BISI:  This

is politics. Mazi, this is the ideal politics. Now you know that we are capable of doing more than dancing. (Salami 104)

Rethinking the female image 63

Conclusion Irene Salami has shown that there is a shifting perspective on the image of the woman in Sweet Revenge and More than Dancing. As propaganda plays, they show how important it is for women to wrestle with political and economic power through their numerical advantage. Their campaign of equality will not yield any fruit if they wait for men to dictate what gets to them. Confrontation alone will lead to gender-based conflict. However, in their attempt to gain political advantage, collaborative efforts in terms of their roles with their male counterpart should be the overriding condition for attaining political independence. Salami wants us to rethink the image of women as capable of leadership – in politics, economics, academia, medicine, etc. She proposes a fair deal for women to take centre stage in areas they were previously seen as powerless, irrelevant or incapable of leadership. Her plays, Sweet Revenge and More than Dancing, champion women’s emancipation through collective will and consciousness. The portrayal of women as beneath men in socio-political and cultural environments has engineered a re-conception of their perceived image by female writers. Salami’s Sweet Revenge and More than Dancing create powerful women figures, who challenge stereotypical assumptions about women to become a force to be reckoned with in this new image of women as capable of “more than dancing.”

Work cited Collins, Patricia Hill. ‘What’s in a Name? Womanism, Black Feminism and Beyond.’ The Womanist Reader, edited by Layli Phillips, New York, Routledge, 1993, 57–67. Hudson-Weems, Clenora. ‘Cultural and Agenda Conflicts in Academia: Critical Issues for African Women’s Studies.’ The Womanist Reader, edited by Layli Phillips, New York, Routledge, 1993, 37–43. Hudson-Weems, Clenora. ‘Africana Womanism.’ The Womanist Reader, edited by Layli Phillips, New York, Routledge, 1993, 44–56. Salami, Irene. More than Dancing. Jos, Saniez Publications, 2003. Salami, Irene. Sweet Revenge. Ibadan, Saniez Publications, 2004. Salami, Irene. ‘Language and Gender: A Feminist Critique of the Use of Proverbs in Selected African Dramatic Texts.’ Ufahamu: A Journal of African Studies, vol. 31, no. 1–2, 2005, pp. 22–39. http://tri-statedefenderonline.com/articlelive/articles/5584/ 1/Africana-Womanism-An-authentic-agenda-for-women-of-Africana-descent/ Page1.html.

5

Postcolonial women’s drama in Nigeria as cultural intervention Afolayan Bosede Funke

Introduction Ezeigbo’s Snail-sense Feminism is an indigenous brand of feminism found in the same category as those coined by African women such as Womanism, Femalism, Motherism, Nego-feminism and Stiwanism. All these different types of feminism are attempts to express the perspectives of the black woman or the notion of feminism as it applies to the woman of colour. Ezeigbo evolves this brand from her observation of the Nigerian women during the precolonial and colonial times. Based on the observation, she believes that the Nigerian women are better off if they adopt the habits of the snail. Thus, she states: The theory derives from the habit of snails which most Nigerian women adopt in their relationships with men. Women in our cultures- from different parts of Nigeria- often adopt a conciliatory or cooperative attitude towards men, this is akin to what the snail does with the environment in which it moves and exists. The snail crawls over boulders, rocks, thorns, crags and rough terrains smoothly and efficiently with a well lubricated tongue which is not damaged or destroyed by these harsh objects. (Ezeigbo 27) The snail is fragile. Nigerian women are considered fragile like a snail. The snail goes about with all it has, but as small and weak as it is, it is able to surmount the obstacles in its way. It is able to achieve this by its “well-lubricated tongue” called ire-oma among the Ibos of south-east, Nigeria. Drawing on this ability, Ezeigbo avers that women can negotiate their way round those patriarchal issues that hinder their freedom. She lists some of these harmful issues visited on women such as child-marriage and early pregnancy, widowhood rites, denial of rights to inherit or own property, male-child preference and violence against women. These are some of the issues that modern dramatists such as Julie Okoh and Sefi Attah investigate in their plays. Unlike Radical feminists who do not believe in cooperation with men and want the male folks out of the equation by radical measures, Snail-sense

Postcolonial women’s drama in Nigeria 65

feminists believe in tolerance, accommodation and complementariness. They believe in negotiation and dialogue in any conflicting situation. Ezeigbo submits that “A woman cannot but behave like a snail in our patriarchal society, most Nigerian cultures devalue women, consider them fickle or untrustworthy” (Ezeigbo 28). She based her evidence on proverbs and sayings noted among different tribes in Nigeria. To survive in a culture that is hostile, women must learn to be “proactive and strong” (Ezeigbo 28). It is against this background that this paper examines Julie Okoh’s Aisha and Sefi Atta’s The Sentence as protest drama in the sense that the works contest traditional ethos both in form and content and provide ways of subverting the situation. Drama, in the hands of first generation female playwrights, especially Zulu Sofola, the first female playwright in Nigeria, has largely pandered to patriarchal and traditional sentiments. Sofola in Wedlock of the Gods allows tradition to prevail over issues of modernity, transformation and growth of the female. Ogwoma commits a taboo because she gets pregnant from her lover when the three months of mourning after her husband’s death has not elapsed. In the culture in which this story is based, it is an abomination for such to happen. Faced with opposition from her parents, her mother-in-law and the whole community, Ogwoma is helpless. The conflict between love and tradition is resolved by Sofola in favour of tradition. Ogwoma is poisoned by her vindictive and revengeful mother-in-law. Her lover is unable to bear the loss and he commits suicide in the tradition of William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. Again, in Wedlocks of the Gods, there are parallels with Greek plays – the issues of taboos, curses and the use of myth. It is noted that Zulu Sofola belongs to the first-generation dramatist in Nigeria like Wole Soyinka, J. P. Clark-Bekederemo and Ola Rotimi. They show in their plays the inviolability of the gods and the cultures that not only stifle female initiative but also undermine women’s freedom. These dramatists are well-steeped in the culture of their people and have also imbibed the European culture through education and civilisation. As it is with them, they were at the beginning of their careers and busy proving that Nigerian drama is worthy of study just like western drama. Thus, they mirrored their works on European styles drawing similar images and symbols from their cultures (Ogunbiyi 35–36). More modern dramatists have moved beyond this traditionalist perspective to embrace a form of resistance against social issues. Okoh and Attah belong to a group of Nigerian female playwrights who employ their art as instruments of intervening in the cultural practices of Nigeria. Drama, in their hands, becomes a veritable weapon to confront cultural practices that inhibit, hinder and obstruct the full growth of the female gender in a patriarchal society. The issues dramatised in both plays are women-centred. The oppression of women through religion and ethnicity is treated with great passion. Julie Okoh and Sefi Atta resist the idea that women are not placed at the centre of discussion, but are seen as the “Other,” not as the subject. Their works attempt to correct this notion by showing the woman as a subject to

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be discussed and her condition needs to be highlighted. Their works combat issues such as female circumcision as shown in Okoh’s Edewede or even become self-critical as in Tess Onwueme’s Tell it to Women. This paper is interested in the exploration of the issues of oppression and gender dynamics in Okoh and Atta’s plays and how these plays are utilised to confront traditional and religious obstacles in the lives of the female characters. The characters are shown as capable of surmounting their problems, and with the help of bonding with their household or fellow female folk, the social structures placed on their way by tradition and religion are overcome.

Background of study Nigeria came to be a nation by the amalgamation of the Southern and Northern Protectorates in 1914. In 1960, it gained its independence from the British who had been its colonial master. Before the advent of colonialism, the peoples of Nigeria lived within their different regions and tribes. The whites came with Christianity just as the Arabs with Islam. These two foreign religions were imposed on the traditional religions of the people. The fact of the unification in 1914 has not been able to obliterate ethnic sentiments and tribal rivalry. Nigerians are the peoples of different religious orientations, political perceptions, cultural beliefs and many languages forcefully united by colonial masters, who did not understand these differences and what adverse consequences they portended for the people. The three major ethnic groups of Yoruba, Igbo and Hausa tend to lord their numerical strengths on the not-sobig ones such that since the 1960s, violence, bloodshed and trauma have been the practice in Nigeria’s political and social atmosphere. The pogrom and carnage in the north eventually culminated in the civil war of 1967–1970. The destruction of lives and property in the war reinforced this development. Consequently, ethnic factions emerged such that the regions have their different cultural groups such as the Ndigbo catering to the Igbos, Afenifere for the Yorubas, Arewa for the Hausas and the other smaller groups. The formation of the groups is an expression of the different groups’ ethnic solidarity. There does not seem to have been a truly detribalised President in Nigeria since independence or a Nigerian who does not first see himself as a Yoruba man or Hausa man or Igbo man before being a Nigerian. Nigerians ultimately resort to their ethnic base even in politics as shown over the years. Again, internal wars among tribes have left the country in a perpetuate state of unrest, for instance, the rivalry between Ife and Modakeke and Aguleri and Umuleri. The foregoing becomes central to the discussion on the issue of tribal sentiments and religious fanaticism as the bane of development in Nigeria explored in the two plays examined in this paper. It is pertinent to see Julie Okoh intervening artistically in the national issue of ethnicity and ethnocentrism as it affects the lives of the people and Sefi Atta, on the other hand, exploring patriarchy and religion in Northern Nigeria. These issues combine to place women at the lowest rung of the ladder. Women suffer because of

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the gender, and also, because of their men’s faulty interpretation of religion. In their teens, many are given out in marriage and because they are, in most cases, not fully developed biologically for child-bearing, they suffer from vesicovaginal fistula (VVF) during and after childbirth. As portrayed in The Sentence, a man uses religion as cover to get rid of his wife. All he needs to affirm is that she has been caught in adultery and she will be stoned to death. This is the historical dramatisation of a woman caught in adultery in Northern Nigeria. The popular belief is that religion is to blame for this. This is the general view of most commentators writing about the north. In a conversation with Lekan Balogun, a Muslim who is also a theatre scholar, the issue of limitation of women and the question of their freedom in the north are not so much about Islam, but of the prevailing culture of the people. He claims that Islam does not undermine the freedom of women; rather, it establishes and sanctions it. He argues that the fact that northerners do not practise it rightly is a different issue entirely. Therefore, he insists that Islam does not oppress; rather, cultural practices do. The men in Northern Nigeria who are uneducated subordinate their women by hiding behind Islam and much of the tools they use are actually culture-specific. In reality, he submits, the elites among the northerners send their girl-child to school and these women grow up to hold important political position. He concludes that ignorance and poverty are greater problems among the northerners than Islam (A personal interview with Lekan Balogun). Both plays, though fictive, deal with urgent topical issues that demand solution. In spite of the urgency, the plays are propagandist, but reified by artistic devices to the level of art. It would seem like the plays are pushing forward the transformation agenda through the cunning use of skill, characterisation, festival and spectacle.

Julie Okoh’s agency in Aisha Julianah Omonukpon Omoifo Okoh ( Julie Okoh) is a female Nigerian playwright and a Professor at the University of Port Harcourt. Her plays include Edewede, Closed Doors, In the Fullness of Time and Aisha. Her focus in almost all her works is on the question of woman, her plight and her condition. She uses her plays to correct, teach, expose and react against the subjugation of the woman in Nigeria especially. This penchant has led to her creating an all-female cast in Closed Doors, where she examines the issues of rape as sexual abuse, trauma and female oppression (Uwah 199). Okoh’s Aisha dramatises the story of a couple, whose love is shaken by ten years of barrenness and a cantankerous and ethnocentric mother-in-law who resents the wife, Aisha primarily because she is a northerner married to her son, Ehiware, a southerner. She also detests her daughter-in-law because, according to the mother-in-law, Aisha has taken her son from her and she embarks on a journey of attack, lies and emotional blackmail to forcefully remove her from her matrimonial home. The son, through cunning and

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deception, is able to overcome his mother’s animosity before they can have peace in their marriage. This story is realised in an atmosphere of music, song, drama and festival. In fact, the wedding ceremony that ends the play adds colour and spectacle to the story and aids its artistic essence. Again, the play is overtly suffused with political sentiments. The characters are highly educated, especially Aisha and Ehiware. Even Otibho, Ehiware’s sister and Tonye, Aisha’s friend are politically aware as they x-ray the problems of Nigeria ( Julie Okoh 63–4). In a poetic rendition, they highlight the several issues plaguing the nation. In the opening scenes, the couple takes us on a journey through vivid and realistic dialogue of the beginnings of their love, her father’s hatred for Ehiware; they tell us how the father threatens him with a cutlass for daring to visit his daughter. This recounting could have been acted out rather than have the couple fill us in verbally since it is their story and they know it. However, the intention of the playwright is to keep us abreast of the rocky start of their marriage. The animosity is not just from the Hausa side. Adesua, Ehiware’s mother, does not seem to be able to get over her son bringing in Aisha, a Hausa girl. She recounts how southerners were killed in the pogrom that led to the Nigerian Civil War of 1967–1970 and how the Hausas killed everyone who was not Hausa with reckless abandon. It is as if Aisha is personally guilty of the crime. Aisha becomes the butt of Adesua’s anger against her tribe. Ehiware and Aisha’s marriage becomes the battleground for tribal wars. Aisha’s parents abandon her when she marries Ehiware. Ehiware’s mother, Adesua has already groomed a young Edo girl for her only son, but bringing a girl home from another tribe for him was a big shock to Adesua. Both ways, the couple loses all the familial attachments they have because of their love. Their marriage is frowned at and detested by the parents from both sides. It is particularly worse with Adesua who does not give the couple a breathing space. She visits them regularly and every visit is chaotic, violent and tortuous for Aisha. She makes her life miserable, verbally abuses her and emotionally tries her peace. In spite of Aisha’s love towards her and her comfort, Adesua calls her names such as “shameless, barren woman” (21) and harlot. She blames her for her inability to have children. When a marriage is childless, the usual tendency in Africa is to blame the wife. This opinion, as depicted in the play, is shared by many in the Nigerian society. Ehiware has to educate his mother that he may be the cause of their childlessness after all. Childlessness in marriage is usually blamed on the woman without considering whether it is the man that is unfit medically. This is one idea this play also sets out to correct. Adesua’s problem can be understood because Ehiware is her only son and she dotes on him. She also desires to have grandchildren, which the couple is not giving her. Again, because of their inability to have children, she claims that she has become “the chewing stick for every man and woman in Ubiaja to brush their dirty teeth” (21). In other words, the villagers are gossiping about her and that bothers her. These reasons notwithstanding, Adesua goes beyond her limit

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in abusing Aisha and calling her names in her matrimonial home, instead of empathising with the young woman and not provoking her incessantly. Significantly, Aisha and Ehiware’s home is a microcosm of the larger Nigerian State. Aisha is Hausa, Ehiware is Edo, the maid, Ruddy, is Yoruba, the driver is Igbo and the Security guard, Dogoyaro, is Tiv. A large percentage of Nigerian tribes is represented. The different languages belonging to these tribes are freely used in the play in order to prove the author’s point that though Nigerians are different, they can live together in peace and harmony when they begin to see one another as a human being, not as a tribe. The love affair that begins between Chike and Ruddy, both from different tribes, is a miniature of the struggles encountered by Aisha and Ehiware. The struggle is played out at a lower scale in the servants’ union. One of the devices that reifies the content and form of the play to the level of art and not propaganda is the use of songs. Aisha resorts to a Hausa song which to her best, expresses her pain and grief after she is slapped by her husband (42). Ruddy also uses songs in the play to express herself when she provokes Adesua and the latter runs after her. The song is particularly exasperating as it makes Adesua furious as she runs after Ruddy and eventually falls in the process. Also, in the love affair between Ruddy and Chike, the driver expresses through songs (25–6). Even Dogoyaro reminds the audience that he is “a retired sergeant of the twenty fifth battalion of the Nigerian Army” through a military song (24). The song is also reminiscent of LejokaBrown’s recitation and marching in Ola Rotimi’s Our Husband Has Gone Mad Again. All the expressions sung by the characters, on one hand, add humour, and on the other hand, help in pursuing the author’s philosophy of writing the play, which is to show artistically that people should not discriminate against others on the basis of their tribes. In the final analysis, the songs give the play the sense of a total theatre. The discussion between mother and son after Aisha runs out of her home is instructive in the sense that it almost reduces the play to a drama of ideas or thesis play as one finds in George Bernard Shaw’s play, Mrs Warren’s Profession. In a heated argument, the playwright pitches the son against the mother. The mother insists that Aisha should be sent away because she is barren, while the son believes that he loves her enough to want her to stay. Adesua calls her son names because of his choice, uses emotional blackmail against him: “a child does not bite the finger that fed it. You are the fruit of my womb” (29). The womb connects a child with its mother. Adesua validates the stronger hold on her son by the virtue of carrying him in her womb. The argument goes on while none of them shifts ground. Ehiware enlightens his mother on the true situation of things, but the mother stands by her ethnic sentiments not caring for the peace of her son’s home. To Adesua, it does not matter if Aisha was born or brought up in Lagos and can barely speak Hausa; the fact that she is not an Edo woman makes her not good enough for her son. Adesua hinges her dislike of the Hausa on the fact that “their men carry sharp daggers under their garment” (30) and they are easily provoked to

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massacre southerners as reported in Kaduna (31). This is an example of the hypocrisy of people against others based on the stereotypes. Ehiware, who is more enlightened, helps her to see that violence is a human expression that is not peculiar to any tribe: EHIWARE: 

Is it only in the north? What about the community violence in the south? The Ogbakiri people in Rivers State have been fighting with each other for years. Riot and war will continue to burst out in this country as long as people refuse to listen to each other. As long as we cannot let go of past hurt. And as long as everybody is fiercely protective of his ethnic group instead of fighting for national unity. (31)

As earlier stated, Aisha and Ehiware’s marriage becomes the ground on which the ethnic war is fought. The playwright uses this simple story of childlessness in a marriage between two people from different regions in Nigeria to raise salient issues on the unity of the nation. The play exposes peoples’ hypocrisy, ethnic sentiments, parochial ideas, conventions and sentimentalism with each character holding firmly to his/her idea ignoring the fact that people’s lives are involved. The witches’ scene brings out the worse in Ehiware (Okoh 39–42). In this scene, four witches appear at the couple’s bedside at night to harm Aisha. She could hear them and every effort made by her to escape their power is futile. She wakes up suddenly and recounts the story to her husband, who slaps her when she says that one of them looks like his mother. Aisha runs out. It seems an end has come to their love. Ehiware drives around looking for his wife in the neighbourhood and ends up in his sister’s house. He finds his wife there. They talk and, to Aisha’s shock, he insists on marrying the Edo girl his mother has found for him. He also insists on her coming with him to the wedding ceremony. This seems contradictory and paradoxical. But, he does have something in mind. The suspense is well played out as the audience wonders what Aisha is going to do when her husband is marrying another person. Ezeigbo’s Snail-Sense feminism characterises the woman as “wise, sensitive, resilient, dogged or determined” (Ezeigbo 28). Aisha’s attitude to the conflict is all of these and more. She believes in the love between her and her husband even when his actions say the opposite. First, he slaps her and then he tells her he is marrying another person to please his mother. Aisha draws on the wealth of her intrinsic abilities and natural instincts with which she is able to overcome the problems that hatred and anger have placed on her happiness. Thus, Aisha is seen in the play relying on the in-built coping strategies to overcome the problems she faces in her marriage. First, she loves her husband passionately. She makes life comfortable for her mother-in-law even when she hates her with a passion. The maid is also on her side, countering Adesua’s lies against her. Then, she has the love of her husband, who stays with her in

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spite of his mother’s hatred and call for divorce. Based on this love, they are able to surmount the tribalism that threatens to tear them apart. Even though she runs out of the house in tears after her husband slaps her, Aisha runs to his sister’s house. She believes in him and he comes looking for her. Patiently, like the snail, she waits for peace to reign in her home by tagging along with her husband’s idea even when she does not understand the consequences. The ceremony in the village is a funfair (Okoh 73–79). The sheer spectacle of drumming, dance, songs and drama makes the play a total theatre. In the end, prayers are said and the marriage rites performed and what remains is the unveiling of the bride. The bride is unveiled and it is Aisha in Edo traditional bridal costume and hairdo. The mother is so shocked that she quietly leaves. The stage direction states it aptly thus, “he proceeds to unveil the maiden. It is AISHA. She is completely dressed in Edo traditional bridal costume and hairdo. A faint single light focuses on ADESUA huddled up dumbfounded and motionless in her chair. During the ensuing interactions, she slowly rises and leaves the arena” (79). The play ends with the old Nigerian, national anthem composed by a white woman. The lyrics of the songs aptly sum up the major theme of the play: “Though tribes and tongues may differ/In brotherhood we stand…” The lyrics help in reinforcing the author’s thematic preoccupation. The didactic aim of the playwright cannot be denied and sometimes, it stands out as a sore thumb intruding the flow of this simple story of two people from different parts of the country bound by love. The challenges they encounter such as barrenness and conflicts between mother and daughterin-law are not peculiar to them. But what makes their case different is the insistence by the mother-in-law to pull them apart because of the different cultural backgrounds. The total theatre effect of the play reifies the propagandist import to the level of art. The playwright sets out to correct the misconception that people have for tribes other than their own, and asserts that love conquers all differences.

Sefi Atta’s intervention in The Sentence In The Sentence by Sefi Atta, the focus is on women’s oppression, betrayal, deceit, injustice and religious fanaticism. The play is based on actual historical fact of women sentenced to death by stoning by Islamic courts in northern Nigeria in the years 2001 and 2002. This story forms the material on which the play is based. According to Christine Matzke (110), The Sentence was first staged in October 2011 in Germany as Hazel auf Zamfara (The Sentence). The play is based on a monologue, which was Atta’s response to an actual event where Safiya Hussaini and Amina Lawal were both sentenced to death by stoning because they were involved in adultery in Northern Nigeria. These incidents took place in December 2001 and March 2002. Christine Matzke (111) states categorically that “neither of the sentences was actually carried out” ultimately because of the furore it generated in both local and international media.

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Northern Nigeria is both patriarchal and Islamic even though there are pockets of Christians in some state such as Benue and Plateau. The core Islamic states are Sokoto, Zamfara and Borno among others. In recent times, such Islamic states have become increasingly rigid, uncompromising and intolerant of modern ways and other religions. The fanaticism noted has led to the insurgence of Boko Haram, a group that has engaged in the destruction of lives and property and kidnapping of young girls. The issue of religious fanaticism is a crucial one because it is one of the problems confronting the unity of the nation as Christians from the southern part of Nigeria are targeted and seen as “infidels” even within the same country. Sefi Atta’s The Sentence dramatises the horrific injustices against a woman whose husband, in anger, lies against by accusing her of adultery. Because of this betrayal, she is in custody waiting to be stoned to death as punishment for her evil ways. The play is a monologue that explores the injustice against the woman and traces the scenario that leads to her imprisonment in the speech of this protagonist. Interestingly, the protagonist is merely referred to as Woman. The husband is just Husband and the younger wife is just Junior Wife. This generic naming seems to universalise the women’s oppression. The religious angle may be peculiar to Northern Nigeria, but the case is the same anywhere there is gender oppression. The situation is particularly irksome in a state ruled by Sharia laws as depicted in this play. For theft, an arm is cut off. For adultery, a woman is stoned to death. Fatima’s English teacher is fined for dying her hair. In the play, the Alkalis pronounce that the Koran forbids women and men from travelling on the same buses and girls and boys must not attend the same schools. All these are religious prejudices and hypocrisy mounted to put the woman at a disadvantaged position. The woman’s lot is played out in a smaller scale in the story of a thirteen-year-old girl, who was raped and impregnated, but has to suffer the consequences alone because the judges do not care for who got her in that state and she was flogged even in that condition. Her word and testimony were inconsequential to the man. To the question put to her by Miriam Maliki, the Television Star, who has come to support her, Woman has this to say: “What difference would it have made? (To audience) Our Husband’s testimony, was greater than mine” (Sefi Atta 124). The husband of the woman brings in a younger bride, who happens to be his first daughter’s age mate. Her family has given her away. This theme of girl-child marriage is treated in the play in the life of Junior Wife. She is too young to adapt to married life and it is no wonder she is unable to handle it. She is a mere child who cannot take care of herself not to talk of another person. The young girl finds it difficult to adjust to life as a wife. Woman is not willing to start being a mother to Junior Wife because she has her own children to cater for. Thus, she is uncooperative with the girl. Her attitude repels Junior wife, who thinks she is not truthful and might poison her. The Junior Wife, however cannot cope with married life. She

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is able to fence off her husband when she was pregnant by a mere trick that bothers on sentiment: if she has sex during pregnancy, it may affect the child. He believes her and had to go back to the Woman. No matter the excuse or the struggling, Husband rapes Woman. She does not even know she is pregnant until she starts vomiting and being sick. Meanwhile, the Junior Wife cannot take care of a “crying baby,” whose cries do not let her sleep at night and although we are not shown how she kills her child because it happens off stage, she must have smouldered him to death because of several nights of sleeplessness. It is certain she is not matured enough to take care of herself or anybody else. With the death of the son, Abu, on whom so much expectations have been placed, the Husband sends the Junior Wife away in anger. She goes back to her parents, who apologise to her and set out to punish Husband when they learn he drinks “Burukutu.” Again, with Abu’s death, Husband becomes a drunkard, abandoning his job. He is summoned to the court for drinking and given 50 strokes of the cane. Brought back home, he raves and rants. Woman laughs hysterically at his misfortune and he promises to punish her for this as soon as he gets well. True to his words, Woman is summoned to court and Husband’s testimony that she has committed adultery while married to him stands against whatever she says. In spite of Woman’s obvious victimisation, she says nothing to contradict Husband’s lie and accusation. On the face of it, her silence becomes an acceptance of the guilt. It helps to further patriarchy and the harm against her. It portends docility on her part because she does not resist the oppression in any physical way. It seems as if her silence is non-resistance, but paradoxically, it affirms her. To her, no matter what she says, she is already condemned because she is a woman. Her silence helps to subvert patriarchy as she resigns to her fate. However, Woman does not see herself as a victim even when she obviously seems to be one. When she is arrested, as an innocent person, the shout of her innocence should have deafened her accusers. Her silence can also be a form of protest for she becomes superior in a way. Her posture and stance seem to suggest some form of defiance – do what you have to because there is nothing I do or say that can get me out of the mess – and protest and thus, she becomes superior to her attackers. Like the snail in Ezeigbo’s Snail, she is weak and fragile and can be trampled upon by stronger forces. She cannot withstand the odds against her. Rather than imbibing the positive attributes of the snail, she is docile. A major argument against this indigenous model is of Niyi Osundare. He queried the viability of the snail image in Snail-Sense feminism as “being inadequate in galvanizing the woman into action to free herself from the shackles of injustice and oppression” (Ezeigbo 49). This argument is based on the fact that the snail is slow and sluggish. Is Ezeigbo arguing for women to be slow and sluggish? Even with this drawback, the snail is able to overcome the obstacles in her path. Woman, in this play, may be docile, inactive and slow in reacting, but her defiance paradoxically

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in silence cannot be denied. Her weakness is her strength. There must be something paradoxically progressive in this inaction. Her words and claim of innocence do not mean anything to a society that sees women as inferior and incapable of telling the truth and, therefore, must be punished in order to make her stay on the moral path. When Miriam Maliki asks her what she said as they took her to court, she was only concerned about her daughters’ fate. Even at the critical stage when her future is uncertain, she is more concerned about the welfare of her children. A major issue explored in the play is female bonding. Miriam Maliki, a prominent Television star, is there to encourage and help Woman. She affirms she will be on Woman’s side to assist her in whatever way that she can, just like the international community and media. Woman is amazed at the power that education confers on Miriam, although a fragile woman, she exudes power, especially in ordering guards around in order to have access to her. Therefore, in a way, the play is about power. Husband has power over Woman, but she assumes power in a cunning way. Though the society invests him with superiority over Woman, and patriarchy and religion (autocracy) combine to put Woman in the lowest rung of the social ladder, she is still superior to him. His word is law and when he says it, she is condemned. Woman also demonstrates a level of power over Junior Wife. She is more knowledgeable about the relationship with their Husband. Despite this, the younger woman is able to control the man and get away with it, especially in keeping him away from her bed. She devices a trick to effect this and it is this window that leads to Woman’s pregnancy. Again, she victimises Junior Wife and tells Fatima, her daughter, not to play with her. The Younger woman becomes rude and accuses her of insincerity and stuffiness. All of the actions take place when she is in custody. It is revealed to us from her monologue with the characters coming in and out of the scenes. This monologue invests the actions with some level of authenticity and personality. She recounts a personal experience that sees her as victim of patriarchy, autocracy and the Islamic religion. The Sentence is a motif that runs through the actions of the play. It is the crux of the matter in the play. It controls the actions as seen in the Woman and Husband’s relationship. It is what he suffers from when he was accused of drinking Burukutu. He is condemned to 50 strokes of the cane. However, the warped justice of the Alkalis is not made for the rich. When the rich drinks and gets drunk, the law does not punish him because he belongs to a higher class. Thus, there are two laws: one guiding the lives of the rich and the other sentencing the poor to jail. The play has exposed the injustice of the female gender in an oppressive, religious and patriarchal environment. One reaction against this oppressive situation is the one engaged in by Woman. The other reaction is the impact of local and international media raising the awareness of the whole world to this negative treatment of the female and calling attention to its eradication.

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Conclusion The paper examines the use of drama by postcolonial female playwrights such as Julie Okoh and Sefi Atta to contest and intervene in the social and cultural practices such as ethnicity, religious fundamentalism, hypocrisy and gender oppression perpetrated on the woman in a patriarchal society like Nigeria. The issues of ethnic sentiments and religious fanaticism have been two major ideas tearing down the unity and co-existence of the different groups making up Nigeria. The urgency and topicality of these works would have rendered the plays propagandist but for the artistic mediation of the issues by Okoh and Atta. As depicted in the plays, the female characters suffer because of cultural issues. The paper appropriates the concepts of tolerance, accommodation and the habits of the snail in Ezeigbo’s Snail-Sense feminism to analyse the oppression against women and the women’s ability to overcome the difficulties and restrictions against them through patience, understanding and accommodation.

Works cited Atta, Sefi. “The Sentence” in Jane Plastow and Yvette Hutchison (eds.) African Theatre: Contemporary Women. Suffolk: James Currey, 2015. Ezeigbo, T. Akachi. “Snail-Sense Feminism: Building on an Indigenous Model.” Monograph Series. Faculty of Arts, University of Lagos. No. 17, April 2012. Matzke, Christine. “Introduction to the Sentence” in Jane Plastow and Yvette Hutchison (eds.) African Theatre: Contemporary Women. Suffolk: James Currey, 2015. Okoh, Julie. Aisha. Port Harcourt: Pearl Publishers, 2005. Ogunbiyi, Yemi, ed. Drama and Theatre in Nigeria. Lagos: Nigeria Magazine, 1981. Uwah, Innocent Ebere. “Interrogating Feminist Agitations of Vulnerable Female Subjectivities in the Plays of Julie Okoh” in Emeka Nwabueze (ed.) African Female Playwrights: A Study of Matter and Manner. Enugu: ABIC Books, 2016.

6

“It’s a short distance from Sontag” Chinyere Okafor’s New Toyi-Toyi as militant feminism Lekan Balogun

Introduction Chinyere Okafor has consistently written about the challenges of ordinary women and men, as well as issues affecting them generally. Scholar of multicultural gender, world literature, feminist theory, and African mask performance and Communication, Okafor often seizes any opportunities to demonstrate her interest in this category of people, as in her play, New Toyi-Toyi, written and first performed while she was Visiting Lecturer and Coordinator of Literature at the University of Swaziland, Southern Africa from 1996 to 1999. New Toyi-Toyi underscores both the continuing social dimensions of ritual and its value for engaging gender issues. According to Okafor (6), “Toyi-Toyi” defies specific translation, its closest “cousin” in Nigeria being the Igbo “enyi-mba enyi,” the Yoruba hunters’ chant of “muso-muso-muso,” the Hausa “muje-muje-muje” chant of solidarity, as well as the “Egberi O! Uloko o!” of the Kalabari people of Cross River and the “akamasabe!, E-e-e’ Ekponkmo e-e-e!” expressions of action. In connecting “Toyi-Toyi” to related tribal chants and ritual actions, Okafor reiterates the claim that “Ritual equates the divine (superhuman) dimension with the communal will, fusing the social with the spiritual” (Soyinka 71). She combines feminist ideology with ritual imagination, history and fiction in New Toyi-Toyi to address the problem of HIV/AIDS in Southern Africa, and presents “Toyi-Toyi” as a military metaphor, which describes concerted communal effort to combat HIV/AIDS and related diseases, as a sort of “community of healing” that is based on the “communities of friendship” (McEntyre), which transcends that specific Swazi milieu of the play as she blends cultural precepts and ideas from other African societies as noticeable in her characterisation. According to Okafor (6), “Both the theatrical and poetic explorations were inspired by the quest for solutions to Africa’s problems conceptualised as “disease” in the play [and] the need to seek answers in African cultural strengths that have sustained life on the planet for centuries, and necessary but careful connection with the global world.” More so, given the cultural and traditional outlook of the setting, the Swazi society where she sets the actions of New Toyi-Toyi necessarily encourages the use of ritual as

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metaphor, with which she identifies the problems in the society and proffers some deserving solution and/or treatment. Okafor often privileges militancy in her engagement with genderrelated issues. In one of her musings on the intersection of gender and politics, “Militant Femininity in Southern African Poetry,” Okafor examines some selected poems that have long been forgotten in critical discourse on African poetry and postcolonial literary expressions. Written by Kenyan and South African female authors, Micere Mugo and Gladys Thomas, two poets who share similar experience of “oppressive structures” in their countries of birth, the former under dictatorship in Kenya and the latter during Apartheid South Africa, Okafor shows ways the poets engaged with what she calls “the violence of bondage.” According to Okafor (5), the poets demonstrate “militant disposition” in the way that they present to their audience “female poetic characters with militant anticolonial reactions as well as incisive gender consciousness.” Okafor argues that Mugo and Thomas project through their female protagonists, the connection between gender oppression and other hierarchies of power, and concludes that the poet-personas betray in their personalities the intersection of gender, class and postcoloniality through their private and public engagements. In her play, New Toyi-Toyi, Okafor diverges from the focus of Susan Sontag, who discountenanced the ways in which diseases are treated. With her idea of “de-metaphorization,” Sontag condemned the language that we use to describe illnesses. One of the leading scholars on literary expressions about diseases and their treatment, whose works Illness as Metaphor and AIDS and Its Metaphors are a groundbreaking exploration of the relationship among ailments and psychology, diseases and social relations geared toward their treatment, Sontag particularly repudiated military metaphor in describing ailments, and termed it as “the language of political paranoia” and critical characterisation that attributes faults to patients who are treated as victims, a “community of pariahs” created by a moral judgment that demonises illnesses as some sort of affliction. According to Sontag, metaphoric languages often contribute to the “dehumanization” of patients, turning them into a stigmatised class of people whose feelings of paranoia, guilt and shame have rendered them mentally, psychologically and emotionally incapable of coping with both the pains and treatments of their ailments, that is, in their response to such things as chemotherapy, psychotherapy, and related self-healing techniques. However, although the approach of Okafor seems not to be in synch with the assumptions of Sontag about military metaphors at the level of descriptive language but not necessarily of therapy which comes in various forms and range, “Toyi-Toyi” is different and unique because of its underlying “mass ideological mobilization” agenda which must be seen as some sort of “ameliorative campaigns” (Sontag 99) that are meant to defeat the enemy, that is, HIV/AIDS, the plague “that attacks the body and never goes till it defeats the person” (Okafor 23). Moreover, the opinion of Sontag (97–99; 105) about the “dual metaphoric genealogy” of HIV/AIDS, namely, invasion

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and pollution against which the human bodies must aggressively mobilise immunological defenses, also allows us to view Okafor’s own assumption about HIV/AIDS and the role of the “Toyi-Toyi” trope which, as Bosede Afolayan (111) explains, is “an exercise in mobilization, conscientisation and urging change,” not just in the Southern African region but also in the rest of the African continent. Okafor’s “Toyi-Toyi” is an expression of a complex and purposeful anger that combines movement, music and dance in its theatrical composition, which brings together entertainment and education as well as the need for purposeful and committed form of social relations. Essentially, it is aimed ultimately to serve as solidarity and strength in the face of a social menace such as HIV/AIDS and other virulent ailments that it represents, including “companies that pollute fishing waters of Africa, thieves that steal Africa’s wealth, and cause our people to break and quench” (Okafor 52). While the descriptions of Okafor might appear verbose, sometimes rhetorical in the way that they marshal images of exploitation, deceit and rape of the continent, it shows that her concern is not really about HIV/AIDS per se, but about “diseases” broadly defined, including those perpetrations which destroy the body politics in remarkable ways, yet are unnoticed. These include unpatriotic acts that undermine rather than elevate the society’s integrity. Yet when she talks about things that cause our people to break and quench, she articulates a powerful point that Walter Rodney had long brought to global attention. In Rodney’s words, Mistaken interpretations of the causes of underdevelopment usually stem either from prejudicial thinking or from the error of believing that one can learn the answers by looking inside the underdeveloped economy. The true explanation lies in seeking out the relationship between Africa and certain developed countries and in recognizing that it is a relationship of exploitation. (Rodney 30) Consider, for example, the plight of Thani, one character in the play, whose homeland is forcefully taken and handed to the White men because they have the papers that he does not have. Thani and other locals are disinherited of their ancestral lands, thus sparking violent actions that are reminiscent of the Kenyan Mau of the 1950s, same as the land ownership issues across the continent, especially in the Southern Africa region such as in Zimbabwe and South Africa. When Okafor insists on exposing the issues that cause our people to break and quench, she draws attention to not only (post)colonial realities of failures but also ways in which fraud and endemic exploitation of Africans by colonial apparatuses are being supported in various ways by some unscrupulous Africans. In the rest of the essay, beginning with a discussion of Sontag’s works about diseases and other literary and artistic engagements with the HIV/AIDS pandemic globally, I will discuss ways in which Okafor deploys her military

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metaphor in the play. I will particularly stress how her “multicultural” sensibility in “Toyi-Toyi” both “clashes with” and “refines” Sontag’s idea of the stigmatising effect of military metaphors on describing and/or treating diseases. As Sontag (97) herself said, military metaphors are useful when they assume “new credibility and precision,” and a new character such as in New Toyi-Toyi which blends mythology and ritual with feminist ideology in its engagement with HIV/AIDS and related social pandemic on the African continent.

Describing/treating diseases: Playing (not) with words Leading voice on creative expressions about diseases and social response, Sontag wrote Illness as Metaphor and AIDS and Its Metaphors, which are about the pernicious effect of the metaphor that presents ailments and disease as plague, contagion, punishment and others. Treated of breast cancer in 1975 at the age of 42, Sontag was herself helpless and confused when her physicians recommended “immediate and aggressive intervention; a radical mastectomy followed by intensive chemotherapy” as her only chance of survival (Clow 295). After four operations to deal with secondary lesions and 30 months of intensive chemotherapy, Sontag (296) was left shaken neither by the ailment nor the cumbersome process of recuperation, but by “the pernicious influence of disease metaphors” deployed by her physicians, and she observed that people diagnosed of tuberculosis were similarly emotionally traumatised with the choice language being used to describe their ailment (Costa and Lopez 229; Khan 50–53). Writing Illness as Metaphor later, Sontag (101) stated that “I discovered that many patients…are embarrassed about being sick” as “there was a taboo about [the diseases].” For Sontag (5), tuberculosis and cancer were “spectacularly, and similarly, encumbered with the trappings of metaphor”; as “master illnesses,” they were “synonymous with malevolence as well as malignance” (Sontag 72; Chow 296). Troubled by her discovery and the continuing seeming “dehumanization” of patients, Sontag thereafter suggested de-mythicisation and re-orientation about “metaphors and myths [that] kill” (Sontag 6–7), in order to “rescue” patients from the ill-omened approach to ailments’ description, showing that language often glamourises rather than articulate clearly the nature of diseases both in their complexity and enduring manifestations in human society. Accordingly, Sontag (31) discountenanced the “romantic treatment of death,” which purported to present patients as being made “more interesting by their illness” as if, as she argued, sadness “made one more ‘interesting’” or that “it was a mark of refinement, of sensibility, to be sad.” In propagating the social “conventions of concealment” around ailments through metaphoric language, Sontag argued, we encourage people to live a life of horror that is out of the pains of the disease. Some literature are cited such as Lucretius’ De Rerum Natura (Book VI) and Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Masque of the Red Death,” the former being an appropriation of Thucydides’ narrative of the

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Athenian plague, while the latter is a rewriting of Boccaccio’s Decameron, which describes the escape from the bubonic plague. Sontag forcefully argued that metaphoric languages used in both works conceal the actual nature of the diseases that are the central focus of attention. Lucretius describes the plague as sacer ignis or “Sacred Flame,” which devours the bodies of the afflicted, his choice of metaphor echoing Sontag’s “physiological decadence or deliquescence” or a sublime, “angelic psychology” (26–27) of lessening the sting of infection. Poe describes the “Red Death” as both “a contagion” and “the pestilence,” his protagonist and his terrified subjects calling it the “thief in the night” (10), while their audiences experienced a “collective transgression” imposed by a “moralized notions of diseases” (Sontag 43). Lucretius and Poe’s use of metaphorical and non-metaphorical terminologies underline how the “depictions of specific disease symptoms… jolt the readers of these texts” (Hughes 41–42). According to Sontag, “[M]etaphors contribute to the stigmatizing of certain illnesses and, by extension, of those who are ill” and nurture the “conventions of concealment” (6). Sontag submitted that Lucretius and Poe’s works show that plagues and diseases have endured since human existence, and that they also reveal the problems associated with their glorification through language. In her early essay, “The Way We Live Now” published in the November 24 issue of The New Yorker (1986), Sontag presented the story of a man that was down with a serious illness. Neither the man nor the disease was openly called by name by his friends through whom Sontag showed how “collectivity and community” serve to support efforts geared towards dealing with ailments, and whose “multiplicity of voices” (Treichler 252–253) recalls the communal spirit that drives Okafor’s “Toyi-Toyi.” Paula Treichler explains that Sontag presented a man who seemed accustomed to his illness and its routine, felt not like a victim and exhibited a feeling of “not that he had a disease but, rather, was living with a disease.” As such, a certain “militant policy” of interaction was glorified, one that well captured the evolving language around illness that had been evolving since the late 1960s and was also subsequently adopted in the fight against AIDS (Treichler 253; emphasis in the original). However, contrary to Sontag, Robert Klitzman pointed out that reaction to ailments and treatments are often determined by expectations from patients and physicians, but not necessarily solely determined by the language that is used to describe such ailments. He maintained that doctor–patient communication also enhances interpersonal relationships, information exchange, medical decision-making, informed consent, and patients’ satisfaction, adherence, understanding and, possibly, health outcomes. According to Klitzman (514), “what (and how) doctors and patients decide to communicate seems to be shaped by their perceptions of how they think the other party will reply, how they wish the other party will reply and how they think the other party wants to reply,” and this does not presume any form of uncertainty. Meanwhile, like Sontag, James Patterson also highlighted how cultural myths about cancer in the 1940s promoted fear and horror than treatment, as

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those infected were “either not told they had it or [the patients and their families] tried to keep the news out of the papers” while their obituaries stated the cause of death as “a lingering illness” or “a prolonged illness” which were the deceased families’ “euphemisms to avoid the stigma of the disease” (Patterson 30; 151; 157). However, Barbara Clow (299) points out that while obituary announcements may have suggested that people died of cancer or attempts by the family of the deceased to underplay the causes of death, the language must also be seen to represent a cultural attitude about “privacy in matters of illness and dying.” Clow (299) references newspaper publications such as Isabella Wallace died “after many years of suffering borne patiently” (Toronto Mail and Empire 20 August, 1925), Albert E. Bavidge “after a gallant fight for life” (Toronto Mail and Empire 20 January, 1920), Stephen Leacock due to “an illness of several weeks” (Montreal Gazette 29 March, 1944) and H. Otto Scott as a result of “a lingering illness” (Toronto Mail and Empire 8 August, 1930), but insists that such phrases may also suggest that “a public explanation [for the cause of death] was generally considered [by the family of the deceased to be] unnecessary.” As it were, while metaphors are unfit descriptive labels in some cases, in others, they thrive due to the sensibility that drives them.

Epigrams and plagues: Cultural reflection Other than Sontag’s, there have been numerous artistic interventions that focused on the HIV/AIDS pandemic since 5 June 1981 when it was officially declared a global epidemic with the publication of Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Reports (MMWR) by the Centers for Disease Control of the US Public Health Service. In particular, literatures from developing countries, visual comics, museum installations etc. have also been most engaging in addressing the outbreak, spread, treatment as well as the myths and fallacies woven around the disease (Leslie 2016; Stein and Cooter 2011). This body of works not only presents some sort of global history of the HIV/AIDS pandemic but also underlines how its social realities have been creatively represented. Okafor’s New Toyi-Toyi belongs to this category of intervention, its own approach being both cultural and metaphoric but nonetheless effective. In January 1995, the then President of South Africa, Nelson Mandela, delivered a moving speech on the death of his son, attorney Makgatho Mandela, due to AIDS from his first wife, Evelyn Mase: “Let us give publicity to HIV/AIDS and not hide it, because the only way to make it appear like a normal illness, like cancer, is always to come out and say somebody has died because of HIV/AIDS, and, people will stop regarding it as something extraordinary.” Mandela was not just calling on his people “to give publicity to AIDS and to not hide it,” he was also asking them to fight the disease (see “The Nelson Mandela Foundation”).1 However, Mandela’s successor, Thabo Mbeki, chose denial that some agencies insisted was responsible for over 300,000 avoidable HIV-related deaths and the birth of more than

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35,000 infected babies (see Cullman 2016; Malan 2016; Tandwa 2016), while Jacob Zuma, who inherited Mbeki’s problems, added a rather ridiculous dimension to state response to the HIV/AIDS issue through his sexual exploits. Zuma was dragged to court for raping a HIV-positive woman, where he claimed to have “taken a shower” after getting romantic with the lady (see Ismail 2016; Timse 2010; Wilkinson 2014). Unlike both Mbeki and Zuma, Mandela’s openness and impassioned appeal about HIV/AIDS in post-Apartheid South Africa was echoed strongly by the country’s hospital management, which noted the alarming rate of the spread of the disease. In particular, the hospital management stressed help in the form of “spiritual counseling and social support system” that was meant “to give hope” to those already infected, a call that Sinikithemba Support Group led by Mrs Nonhlanhla Mhlongo spear-headed as it were, by founding the Siphithemba Choir. The Choir was composed of individuals who were formerly under the aegis of a Christian Mission at the McCord Hospital, where they were helping to fight against HIV/AIDS by drawing on historical evidences about the value of cultural response to epidemics such as Smallpox, Rinderpest Epizootic, Malaria, and Influenza in the region. These efforts dated back to the 18th century and the treatment of HIV/AIDS from 1982 until that time. Siphithemba Choir became a significant voice for combating the disease. With Reuben Caluza’s musical composition and choral work by Lihle Biata, Siphithemba Choir demonstrated why “creative and expressive responses to the HIV/AIDS situation” were not just necessary but crucial (Okigbo 4). Of more significance, Austin Okigbo mentions, was the contribution of Siphithemba Choir to “communal action” in fighting the disease, and the “senses of community” that it created and undergirded by “the Zulu and Nguni social philosophy of ubuntu” (Okigbo 57; 83). Although Siphithemba Choir preferred to be recognised as a gospel choir, believing itself to be “preaching the gospel through music,” two important lessons are clear from its works, namely, the creation of “a powerful tool in transmitting its gospel of hope using a form that is recognizable to its local communities” and the “blur[ring] of the boundary between the sacred and the secular” (Okigbo 78;179), through compositional, performative forms and structures. The initiative of Siphithemba Choir was similarly recreated in many other parts of the African continent in ways which highlight Sontag’s idea that “where once it was the physician who waged bellum contra morbum, the war against disease, now it’s the whole society” (96). The fight against HIV/ AIDS in Uganda is a good example in which artistic expressions, notably literature and music, became a strong tool to both sensitise the public about the menace of AIDS and to fight its spread. Along with publications such as Bakayimbira’s Ndiwulira (1992), Karooro Okurut’s The Invincible Weevil (1998) and Moses Isegawa’s Abyssinian Chronicles (2000), there were also songs and music for mobilisation against the disease. These include “Alone and Frightened,” a song that was composed and performed in 1989 by the Ugandan musician, Philly Bongoley Lutaaya, shortly after making public

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declaration of being infected with AIDS, and “A Little Bit of Love,” the Makerere University Walter Reed Project that was produced by Steve Jean of Fenon Records and songwriter Silver Kyagulanyi. This was a musical collaboration launched on the World AIDS Day in 2006, comprising over 30 of the most popular Ugandan artistes at the time, including Sophie Gombya, Ham K, Juliana Kanyomozi, Nandujja, Moshi, Peter Miles and Joanita Kawlya. While Philly Bongoley Lutaaya drew attention to his own body and used his public image as a tool to address the menace, he also “used his stature to mobilise consciousness around the epidemic. He gave a human face to living with AIDS and helped to counter the perception of the disease as a monstrous thing” (Isabirye 29), similar to Sontag who argued about not creating a myth of diseases. In drawing attention through their music to the social realities of AIDS, they projected both hope and the energy to combat it. Moreover, these Ugandan examples recall the opinion of Martha Nussbaum about the role of literature in the social engineering and collective responsibility when it comes to the issues of AIDS and other ailments. According to Nussbaum (236), “narrative artworks of various kinds (whether musical or visual or literary) give us information about these emotion-histories that we could not easily get otherwise,” and provide the desired energy to fight back. As specific examples of literary and artistic confrontation with HIV/ AIDS, Okafor’s New Toyi-Toyi became another such “entertaining” weapon and a “military metaphor” with which she waged a war against HIV/AIDS. Whereas Okafor who arrived Swaziland, a year after Mandela’s speech, indeed a depressing time in the Southern African region, would act on the elder statesman’s call with New Toyi-Toyi. Treichler’s (1999) assertion that the AIDS epidemic is “cultural and linguistic as well as biological and biomedical” invites us to view how that could read in the way that she uses New ToyiToyi to explore the complex relation between HIV/AIDS in Swaziland (and the Southern African region) and socio-cultural failures. Okafor in New Toyi-Toyi uses similar strategy of enlightenment as her Ugandan counterpart, as she presents “Toyi-Toyi” as a resource drawn from and meant to encourage communal response to social oddities. The play’s fusion of the sacred and the secular also enables a reflection on the physical, spiritual and emotional attitudes of its setting in Swaziland, its aim being to dramatise the essence of communality and mutual support as the prerequisite for social well-being of people and/in their environment. The play dramatises the tragedy of the Bongani family. The central figure, Bongani, is presented as an everyman of some sort, his life history being a mixture of success and failure, envy and deceit, itself a deep reflection on the changing fortune of the physical community as a metaphor for postcolonial Africa. Presented when the play starts as an enviable, hardworking and selfless man, and his people’s representative on the UN Board for Development, Bongani’s exposure and wealth is shown to be his albatross, same as the other young men of the village. Bongani represents the rise to fame and the slow, predictable

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failure of the community, a metaphor for Africa’s shining moments at independence from colonial rule and gradual movement into chaos and instability. Like other young men in the village, Bongani spreads the HIV unknowingly through his various illicit sexual relations, while some of the men spread that through rape. Desperate for cure, Bongani rapes his sister-in-law having misinterpreted Inyanga, the priest’s message. Okafor presents a vicious circle of failure and social degeneration in which the disease spread throughout the land: Nkosi returns to the village immediately when he discovers that he has contracted the disease but still engages in unprotected sexual affairs, same as Geezy who impregnates Wazobia, a young school girl, even though he has already tested positive for HIV, like Bongani who infects his wife, Zanele. In this terrible situation, Jabulile, a woman, is presented as a powerful, inspired and enlightened individual, who mobilises the people to rise to the challenge posed by the disease. Jabulile (37) says, “When everybody is aware of the big plan that the illness had for destroying our land, we will all join hands and chase it out. We shall burn its mat, destroy its house and sweep its feet out of our land. Our first weapon is Toyi-Toyi….” The women in the play describes the disease as “lunwabu” (a chameleon that changes colour), the name suggests terror and its debilitating effect on the society. Description of HIV/AIDS as “lunwabu” opens up the possibility of its meaning as a metaphor for social dysfunction, which is the direct result of anti-social practices that Okafor touches on in the play, such as rape, superstition, infidelity, unbridled quest for wealth and material acquisition. “Lunwabu” also includes ignorance since people believe that HIV/AIDS is a plague sent by some malevolent spirits to inflict harm on the community. The people are not so different from the Greeks who claimed that diseases were “supernatural punishment, demonic possession,” or even punishment for “collective transgression, or a crime of one’s ancestors” (Sontag 43). Sontag (43–44) wrote that by the time Christianity had established itself, the idea of a disease being punishment had acquired another dimension, seen as being just and appropriate, that is, “the disease fits the patients’ character, the punishment fits the sinner” thus evoking ancient assumptions about ailments as God’s way of punishing offenders. Meanwhile, rather than well-developed characters, Okafor presents social types that reflect various individual personalities and attitudes in the Southern African region and elsewhere. For instance, the Wazobia character is inspired by Okafor’s own Nigerian experience, “WAZOBIA,” being an acronym of the word “Come” from the three major tribes, Yoruba, Hausa/Fulani and Igbo. The acronym became popular in the mid-1980s, used mainly as a rallying cry for collectivity, community and oneness for nation-building, similar to the way that it used in this play, but transformed to “Toyi-Toyi.” That it draws from language, a significant aspect of culture, underscores Okafor’s use of same in the play to suggest both the cultural connotation of her play’s themes and its value to the issue

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that she treats. She also looks beyond Swaziland of the play’s setting. Bongani rapes a virgin to cure himself of HIV and reminds us of Jacob Zuma, who claimed to have taken a shower for protection after having unprotected sexual intercourse with a lady. There is also Inyanga, the traditional healer who shares similar attributes as an Igbo dibia or Yoruba Babaláwo, his mannerism being more of the two than a sangoma that he is meant to portray. Through the failure of these characters, Okafor shows her concerns about social disequilibrium and Africa’s grappling with the complexities of freedom from colonial rule. Other social anomalies are dramatised. Young men and women as well as married adults engage in frivolous illicit affairs, and there is neither respect for the sanctity of marriage nor is there decency in most relationships. Young ladies are especially treated like properties and are forced by unfavourable conditions to marry older men in order to raise their own standard of living and enjoy some luxury. Zanele marries Bongani so that her “lobola” (bride wealth, including cows etc.) is useful for her parents. Her father, Swane uses the proceeds from the sale of cows from the “lobola,” to offset the bill of her sister’s education, support his wife’s business, the rest as income, whereas Zanele is married off to Bongani who already had three wives, who treat her with utter disrespect and disdain. Through Zanele’s ordeal in the hands of Bongani’s other wives, Sofola shows that polygamy has its errors. Structurally, the play is patterned after classical tragedy as the actions occur within a day: the first act takes place in Bongani’s household, where Zanele and Bongani are seen complaining of cough and itching all over their bodies. He turns down her request for both of them to visit the hospital to be attended by medical experts. Instead, he decides to see Inyanga, who prescribes appeasing the gods and ancestors as the cure for the strange disease. Although Inyanga does not have a name for the disease like the rest of the people, he believes that incantations and rituals will cure the land. The second act is more developed than the first. Here, more characters are introduced, issues are raised and fundamental reactions to the plague in the land are revealed. Women, led primarily by Jabulile who is later joined by Wazobia, are presented here, both as victims and actors in their own misery. While they lament and protest their plight as the most affected lot in the society’s descent into anarchy even as the strange disease ravaged the land, Okafor also shows the importance of bonding as they all decide to set aside their differences, bickering and jealousy, in order to find a solution to their collective problem. As such, Jabulile and Wazobia represent the old and young generation of women in collective struggle to free the land of its tribulation. The third act presents the climax of the play as Bongani is forced to confess his crime by the women who are now charged and ready to go to “war” with the men. He becomes the “tragic hero” of the struggle as the women, led by Jabulile and Wazobia, start the “Toyi-Toyi” song, which sets the atmosphere for the cleansing ritual that follows it. All women bear

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various symbolic objects, especially brooms, tree branches, knives and sticks as they chant vigorously and dance. As Afolayan (113) points out, “ToyiToyi” song here functions “not just as poetry and theatre but as the centre point for the collation of awareness and critical thinking” as it is about “gender unity in dealing with problems that are not totally African.” As Okafor herself explains, Jabulile and Wazobia as well as the others are representatives of inspired women, who demonstrate “the complexity of women as subjects with empathy and assertiveness as they navigate the maze of multiple oppressions” even as they seek to “interrogate patriarchal gender biases” (Okafor 2008), and are seen as working for the collective good. The play ends with Bongani’s death having confessed his sins, the confession seen more as a communal act than an individual’s attempt to salvage what is left of both his name and family honour. In fact, this is the essence of “Toyi-Toyi,” which brings together men and children led by the women, who form the central driving force of the activism, defiance and rebellion that the trope ultimately constitutes. Wazobia articulates the achievement of the struggle, “Now, the land is sane, as people confess the disease and vouch to fight the evil” (68–69). The ceremony is concluded with a dirge led by the men, Thani and Nkosi, who mourn Bongani’s death and use the opportunity to emphasise the essence of communality to stability and progress. In this last part of the play, it is clear how Okafor is inspired by Yoruba ritual drama and Soyinka’s idea of death and transition, as well as the value of such ritual to communal regeneration. Derek Wright writes that Yoruba ritual drama often utilises such sacrificial motifs as powerful primary modes of expression and encodings in which suffering is performed so that prosperity can be restored to the community, fertility to the earth and the continuum of life can be maintained (Wright 41), same as Soyinka (37), who asserts in an interview that “inherent in all struggle on behalf of society is always the element of self-sacrifice.” Bongani’s sacrifice is seen to be necessary and considered to be a sort of social/communal therapy since it is meant for the land to also free itself of the external influence and control that the UN Board represents in the play. Moreover, the people believe that Bongani isn’t entirely a bad person, but only became corrupted through his association with the outside world where he imbibed foreign ideas. Here, Okafor seems to suggest that the cause of Africa’s perpetual postcolonial failures might not be unconnected to the external influence. As such, the idea of AIDS may include not just a deadly disease but also that of supposed financial support (Aids) with which the African continent is kept in harrowing debt by the West. This idea is buttressed by Thani, who recalls that his parents and other landowners were forced out of their ancestral land by white merchants who “had a piece of white paper” that his own people did not. Hence, as a military metaphor for purposeful anger and collective action, “Toyi-Toyi” in this play also doubles as a plea to the earth and sky (both rooted in Zulu belief ) to ward off drought, diseases and plague; it is a sort of “revolutionary challenge” that leads to “social regeneration” (Nkosi 190) that is borne out of collective self-apprehension.

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Conclusion In this essay, I discussed Chinyere Okafor’s play, New Toyi-Toyi and linked her thematic preoccupation and subject matter to scholarship on diseases and attitude by patients and physicians as well as the general public, especially Susan Sontag’s writings. I argued that although Sontag condemned “military metaphor” in the treatment of diseases, “Toyi-Toyi” as an example of a military metaphor is different due to its communal sensibility. It is also a useful tool to combat HIV/AIDS, itself a metaphor for social dislocation in the play, one that is caused by corruption and related malfeasance. In particular, I argued that contrary to Sontag’s assumption about the problem associated with metaphors that mask rather than “heal” ailments, Okafor’s play and the “Toyi-Toyi” trope in particular stress the value of “fictional representations of collectivity and different experiences of collectivity” as effective ways of tackling epidemics in their real and/or symbolic senses. I concluded that “alliances, friendships, sexual connections, political and emotional bonding” (Treichler 2012) are as important as medical treatments in their relations to real-life situations and, that with “Toyi-Toyi,” Okafor stresses community as a building block for resilience and hope for nation-building in spite of seeming lingering socio-political failures.

Note

1. https://www.nelsonmandela.org/.

Works cited Afolayan, F. Bosede. “‘New Toyi-Toyi’ Trope: Chinyere Okafor and the Redemption of the African Society” Ihafa: Journal of African Studies, vol. 6, no. 1, 2014: 94–116. Blu*3 et al. “A little bit of love.” Walter Reed/Dungeon Studios, 2006. Clow, Barbara. “Who is afraid of Sontag? Or, the Myths and Metaphors of Cancer Reconsidered” Social History of Medicine, vol.14, no. 2, 2001: 293–312. Costa, Marithelma and Adelaida Lopez. “Susan Sontag: The Passion for Words” In Conversations with Susan Sontag, eds. Lelan, A Poague. Jackson: University Press of Mississippi, 1995. 222–36. Cullman, Kerry. “Mbeki still believes his own AIDS propaganda” Health-E News, March 7, 2016. https://health-e.org.za/2016/03/07/mbeki-letter-believes-aidsdenialism/ [Retrieved 10 July, 2020]. Hughes, Daniel. “Infectious diseases, plague palimpsests, and writings by Lucretius, Poe, Sontag, and Heidegger” 32–48. https://www.apsu.edu/philomathes/ HughesInfectiousDiseases.pdf [Retrieved 12 July, 2020]. Isabirye, Joel. “Philly Lutaaya: Popular Music and the Fight against HIV/AIDS in Uganda” Journal of Postcolonial Writing, vol. 44, no. 1, 2008: 29–35. Isegawa, Moses. Abyssinian Chronicles. New York: Alfred A Knopf, 2000. Ismail, Adiel. “Zuma’s Aids shower comment comes back to haunt him” health24, October 17, 2016. https://www.health24.com/Medical/HIV-AIDS/Differentpol itica l-stances/zumas-aids-shower-com ment-comes-back-to-haunt-h im20160309. [Retrieved 10 July, 2020].

88  Lekan Balogun Khan, Carol. “Alone Against Illness” Family Health, vol. 10, 1978: 50–3. Klitzman, Robert. “Pleasing Doctors: When It gets in the Way” BMJ Clinical Research, vol. 335, 2007: 514–517. Leslie, Sharon. “HIV/AIDS: A postmodern epidemic and its depiction” University Library Faculty Publication, 2016. https://scholarworks.gsu.edu/univ_lib_facpub/120. [Retrieved 28 July, 2020]. Lutaaya Philly Bongoley. “Alone” In Alone and Frightened. Sweden: Afripeans, 1989. Malan, Mia. “Mbeki deserves to be condemned by history, Says TAC” Bhekisisa: Centre for Health Journalism, March 8, 2016. https://bhekisisa.org/article/2016–03– 08–00-mbeki-deserves-to-be-condemned-by-history-says-tac/. [Retrieved 10 July, 2020]. McEntyre, Marilyn Chandler. “The Way We Live Now” Literature, Arts, and Medicine Database, Division of Educational Informatics, University School of Medicine, New York, 15 November, 1995. Nussbaum, Martha. Upheavals of Thought: The Intelligence of Emotions. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001. Nkosi, Lewis. Tasks and Masks: Themes and Styles of African Literature. Harlow: Longman, 1981. Okafor, Chinyere. “Militant Femininity in Southern African Poetry: A Discussion of Selected Poems by Micere Mugo and Gladys Thomas” In Power and Nationalism. eds. Toyin, F. and S. Hassan. Durham: Carolina Academic Press, 2008. 435–50. . New Toyi-Toyi. Ibadan: Kraftgriot, 2012. Okigbo, C. Austin. Music, Culture, and the Politics of Health: Ethnography of a South African AIDS Choir. New York and London: Lexington Books, 2016. Okurut, Mary Karooro. The Invincible Weevil. Kampala: Femrite, 1998. Patterson, T. James. The Dread Disease: Cancer and Modern American Culture. Harvard: Harvard University Press, 1989. Rodney, Walter. How Europe Underdeveloped Africa. Dar Es-Salaam: Tanzania Publication, 1972. Sontag, Susan. Illness as Metaphor and AIDS and Its Metaphors. New York: Picador, 1990. Soyinka, Wole. “Interview with Louis S. Gates” Black World, vol. 24, no.10, 1975: 30–48. . Art, Dialogue and Outrage: Essays on Literature and Culture. Ibadan: New Horn Press, 1988. Stacey, Jackie. Teratologies: A Cultural Study of Cancer. London and New York: Routledge, 1997. Stein, Claudia and Roger Cooter. “Visual Objects and Universal Meanings: AIDS Posters and Politics of Globalisation and History” Medical History, vol. 55, 2011: 85–108. Tandwa, Lizeka. “Mbeki was right about HIV and Aids-independent researchers” news24, 2016. https://www.news24.com/news24/southafrica/news/mbeki-was-right-abouthiv-and-aids-researchers-20160310. [Retrieved 10 July, 2020]. The Nelson Mandela Foundation. https://www.nelsonmandela.org/. [Retrieved 12 July, 2020]. Timse, Tabelo and Guest Author. “Zuma reveals his HIV status” Mail & Guardian, April 26, 2010. https://mg.co.za/article/2010–04–26-zuma-reveals-his-hiv-status/. [Retrieved 10 July, 2020]. Treichler, A. Paula. How to Have Theory in an Epidemic: Cultural Chronicles of AIDS. Durham: Duke University Press, 1999.

‘It’s a short distance from Sontag’ 89 . “Collectivity in Trouble: Writing on HIV/AIDS by Susan Sontag and Sarah Schulman” Amerikastudien/American Studies, vol. 57, no. 2, 2012: 245–70. Wilkinson, Kate. “Has Jacob Zuma hurt the fight against AIDS more than Thabo Mbeki” Africa Check, September 23, 2014. https://africacheck.org/reports/has-jacobzuma-hurt-the-fight-against-aids-more-than-mbeki/ [Retrieved 10 July, 2020]. Wright, Derek. “Ritual and Revolution: Soyinka’s Dramatic Theory” ARIEL: A Review of International English Literature, vol. 23, no. 1, 1992: 39–58.

7

Sefi Atta as a dramatist: A study of two plays Bosede Funke Afolayan

Introduction This chapter sets out to examine Sefi Atta’s dramaturgy in two of her plays; Renovation and The Engagement contained in her Selected Plays. The choice of the two plays is informed by the general outlook of the eight plays in the collection; they all deal with the intrigues and conflict of family life and how such intrigues and tensions are resolved. My concern with Sefi Atta is motivated by the fact that she is well-known as a novelist but recently, she has turned her focus to drama. While both the novelist and the dramatist have access to and use the same materials, the handling is different. The dramatist, like the novelist, must have conflict(s) in their art but while the dramatist deals mainly with dialogue to move the dramatic action, the novelist dwells largely on explanation and introspection. The novelist usually tells his story and can be expansive about it but the dramatist has no such luxury. In examining the two plays, I attempt to isolate the dramatic strengths in her plays and also see if her preoccupation in the novels is the same in Sefi Atta’s plays.

Sefi Atta Sefi Atta was born in 1964 in Lagos, Nigeria. She attended the Queens College, Yaba, Lagos before she moved abroad for higher studies. She was trained as an Accountant but later took an MFA in Creative Writing. She is well-known in Nigeria as a novelist and the author of Everything Good Will Come, Swallow, A Bit of Difference and News from Home. She has won several awards such as the PEN International 2004/2005 David TK Wong Prize, the 2006 Wole Soyinka Inaugural Prize for Literature in Africa for her debut novel, Everything Good Will Come and the 2009 Noma Award for Publishing in Africa for her book Lawless, which was published in the United States and the United Kingdom as News From Home. In 2002 and 2004, in the BBC African Performance drama competition, Atta came second. In 2010, Atta was a juror for the Neustadt International Prize for Literature. Given this acclaim, Sefi Atta is an established Nigerian female writer worthy of being critically examined in a serious intellectual work of this nature. She is

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prolific and her vision and concern for the Nigerian woman are constant and unwavering. Not many readers know her as a playwright in Nigeria. However, Atta has published plays that have been produced in and outside of Nigeria. She is the author of eight plays collected in one volume entitled Selected Plays. The plays in this volume are The Engagement, The Naming Ceremony, Last Stand, An Ordinary Man, Renovation, Absent Times, Lengths to Which We Go and The Death Road. One of her plays entitled The Sentence was also published by James Currey in the collection, Contemporary African Women, edited by Jane Plastow et al. In The Sentence, Atta focuses on the trauma of the Hausa woman, who is to be stoned to death for committing adultery. Significantly, the world created by Atta in the novels is the same in most of her plays. It is a world populated by women and their challenges. The problems are usually those brought about by their gender in a patriarchal society. Usually, the tension is between the man and the woman, the woman and structures of patriarchy and how the woman is able to surmount the obstacles confronting her. In other words, Atta’s penchant in most of her plays is to show how women can use the powers within them to overcome patriarchal structures. In an interview with Chidelia Edochie of the SYCAREMORE REVIEW, Sefi Atta made the following remark to the effect that she functions better in playwriting: SR:  You’ve

written a novel and a number of plays before publishing the new collection of short stories, News from Home. What is it about the short story form that attracts you? How does your writing process differ when writing short stories, as opposed to novels or plays? SA:  Short stories give me the freedom to write about characters that are different from me and to travel to places I’ve never been. With novels, I have to be familiar with my settings and my protagonists must, to some degree, share my views; otherwise, I would lose interest. Plays are dialogue driven and I very much enjoy writing dialogue. Plays give me a different kind of freedom. I don’t have to worry about the descriptions of characters and places. Sefi Atta’s vital response leads me to examine the art of the dramatist in some detail and its difference from the novel writing.

The art of the dramatist Drama, by its nature, is a collaborative art. It is the whole essence that emerges on stage in the collaboration of the dramatist, the script, the director, the actors and actresses and the audience. Drama is best actualised when it is staged before an audience. In this way, it is driven by dialogue and action. People must see movements, gestures and gesticulation and above all, the

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conflict that fuels the story. Very much unlike the novel, the play tells its own story with actors who impersonate fictional characters in a story, and the action is directed at the watchers; the audience or the spectators and not readers. According to Aristotle in The Poetics, there are six elements crucial in drama. In no particular order, these six elements are plot, character, thought, diction, melody and spectacle. The plot refers to the story. Every play must have a story it is telling. A play must have a good story. That is what the spectators have come to see, that is, the actions made up of conflicts with the rising tension in the climax, the falling action and its resolutions. There must be a story, realistic or otherwise. The characters are the fictional people in the story. They are the vehicles through which the author’s opinions are ventilated. Thought refers to the message. It is also the universal statement the play is making. Diction is the language and style of the writer. It is the choice of words employed. Melody is also important as some plays are infused with songs and music which may not just be useful for rhythm, structural or aesthetic appeal but are also thematically relevant. Spectacle refers to all the visual elements of a play – the drumming, setting, scenery, costumes, cosmetics, etc. (Bain 1973). Based on the issues raised by Aristotle since the classical ages, I examine the plays of Atta on their merits and attempt to isolate areas where her novelist instincts intrude on her playwriting art.

Sefi Atta’s Renovation Renovation revolves around Yemisi Kasumu who is recently separated from her husband because, according to her, he does not value her and the work she does. Yemisi is an upwardly mobile woman who is hardly at home. Her husband, Demola, works as an Estate Agent with more flexible working hours. The play is built on the tension generated by this relationship. She is forced to move in with her mother, meanwhile as she is renovating an old house to her taste and hopes to move there away from the admonitions from her mother, who wants her to go back to her marriage. Her mother does not understand why she left her husband and insists that she goes back, if only for the children. This plot is realistic and contemporary. It is typical of what obtains largely in Lagos; an urban city at present, where the wife who has been conditioned and socialised as the homemaker now works in the corporate world. The tension that arises out of this fragile reversal of roles is the meat of this play. Demola attends all the Open Day meetings, half-terms and Exeat for the children at their schools because Yemisi’s job does not allow her to do so. Things reached a height when Yemisi is promoted to the head of corporate banking and Demola retorts that she should move permanently to her office. Yemisi is shocked and leaves, writing an email to her husband asking for a divorce. The play takes place in Lagos, Nigeria and the temporal setting is the year 2016, the modern time. It is a time when the societal belief of “train

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up the girl-child” has blossomed and many young women have enjoyed the attention focused on their education by the society. Many of them have the opportunity to reach for the stars and through a dint of hard work, they now occupy those posts that were hitherto preserved for men. This is the case with Yemisi, who is from a well-to-do home, hard-working and with the right connections to make it in life. What the society did not bargain for in the clamour for the “train up the girl-child” is the consequences of such high education. When the woman achieves the height in her place of work just as the man, what happens to their home? Who gets to stay at home to mind the home front? The inability to resolve the conflict brings about the separation in the marriage of Yemisi and Demola. In fact, the title is apt in that on the surface, there is a house undergoing remodelling and metaphorically, Yemisi’s marriage also needs to be renovated in such a way that it will be conducive to both husband and wife. The very title conveys the idea of change, a reworking to suit both partners. It also suggests that for both Yemisi and Demola to mutually coexist, they have to rework the traditional view of marriage as believed by the society. The dynamics of patriarchy must be reversed and overturned. This is demonstrated in Demola’s conversation with Yemisi at the renovation place when she claims she has to leave because of “irreconcilable differences.” Demola reminds her that this is Nigeria and not abroad. “There is no difference that cannot be reconciled in Nigeria” (198). Thus, suggesting that their marriage can be “remodelled, renovated and reworked.” Interestingly, the two children of the couple are grown and are away in boarding schools abroad. Thus, they have all the opportunities to rebuild and reconstruct their marriage without interference from the children. Again, the setting of a living room in a house in progress is apt. Yemisi is the main constant in the equation. The others such as her husband, Demola, Kofo, her friend, her mother, Oyin and the builder come and play their parts and leave. In that small space, the whole tension of marriage, friendship, motherhood, patriarchy and Nigerian men’s attitude to a woman-boss is played out. Atta does not have to create another setting to see Yemisi in action. The people, who come in and are related to her, in one way or another, give the reader a total view of this character. The major conflict in the play is between Yemisi and Demola. It is the usual marital conflict of unresolved misunderstanding and lack of truthful communication. What is new in this conflict is that Yemisi has the upper hand. What we do not know is whether she earns more than her husband or not but her job is more demanding while his job leaves room for caring for the home because he is his own boss. The fact that she works long hours has been the cause of several arguments. That he cannot understand as usual and cover up for her leads to the separation. It is also strange and radical, in a patriarchal society like Nigeria that it is the woman that is asking for a divorce. In Renovation, Atta is very ambitious, in that she strives to analyse the different stages of a woman’s life in Nigeria, in one play. In other words, she

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deftly captures beliefs and attitudes of the past in her mother’s marriage, with the present in her marriage and the different shades in Kofo’s and Sumbo’s. Oyin represents the past where no woman leaves her husband except the husband chases her out through humiliation. No one left their husbands except they were thrown out in her mother’s time. Marriage is important to her and she does not understand why her daughter has not chosen what is important. Hear her: OYIN: 

Your father wasn’t bragging about me. He was bragging about himself. He had a wife who was making progress in the Ministry of Justice. He earned more than me, as a lawyer in private practice. I never once came home from work after he did. In fact, I chose to work for the ministry so I could make sure there was food on the table every evening, and let me tell you, I also made sure all of you were in bed at a certain time because this same Daddy you’re talking about wanted to enjoy his brandy in peace. (203)

To Oyin, marriage is about compromises and she advises her daughter to choose marriage over career. She accuses her of lack of endurance, even when she claims that he does not listen. Oyin retorts that Yemisi must have been aware of his stubbornness before she married him. We cannot also blame her because she is fully aware of the stigma attached to a divorcee of which her daughter is carefree about. The traditional Nigerian society is highly patriarchal. The woman has no say and is treated as a second-class citizen as we see in Oyin’s elucidation. Thus, she even blames herself for bringing up Yemisi the way she did because of what she has become. She accuses her of enjoying the attention everyone pays her by asking her to return to her husband. Although a woman and a mother herself, she does not understand Yemisi’s action. To her, leaving her husband is unheard of, when he has not asked her to leave, and by leaving him, shows her as selfish. Yemisi’s life – as a wife and mother – is also contrasted with that of her mother’s. While her mother is content to being a wife and a mother, bending her work hours to suit her family roles, Yemisi does not want any of those. She wants her job, with its long hours and her marriage and if the husband cannot work with that, she calls it to quit. That is the kind of working women there are in Lagos now. In doing this generational portrayal, Atta is able to establish the differences between the two characters who belong to different ages and demonstrate a changing world. As a matter of fact, the generation of women after Yemisi, represented by her daughter, does not crave marriage. They are unable to define themselves and do not know what they want out of life. The other shades of marriage are the ones involving Kofo and Sumbo. Kofo has to be rescued from a loveless marriage because she is infertile and her husband endures only because she is financially better than him and he

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is syphoning her money. She is helped by Yemisi and her husband to divorce her husband because he was going to leave her in a financial mess. Ultimately, she adopts a child whose educational fees keep her on her toes. She has to work harder in order to keep up. Atta uses her to depict the life of a divorcee in Nigeria. In fact, to keep up financially because of the child, she has to join a women’s networking Club. Sumbo on the other hand is one of the women who formed Ladies Who Launch (LWL) as a way to give back to other women. She has not achieved any success by herself except by association as the wife of a rich and prominent man. Unfortunately, she has marital issues. The man has many girlfriends and “outside children” – children born out of wedlock or bastards. To keep herself looking young and beautiful, she goes on a diet and faints at meetings. Such is the plight of some women in Nigeria that she represents. Almost all the characters are female except Demola and Habib, the Contractor. The protagonist, Yemisi, is female. All other characters are in one way or another connected to this strong female character. Yemisi is depicted as a modern woman, who is also accomplished in her career. She is the head of corporate banking at work. She also has a pedigree; born into a notable, educated family. Her father was a prominent and influential lawyer and her mother, a judge. She went to the best schools, moved in the right circles and is highly connected. It is no wonder she is a success. Yemisi has two children, Tobi and Teni, who are schooling abroad. To the reader, Yemisi has made it. She is financially empowered, educated and married. She seems to have it all. Atta’s choice of Yemisi as the protagonist of the play is appropriate. Yemisi is a successful woman at work. She is articulate, vocal, self-assertive and intelligent but a non-conformist. Not many women will walk out of their marriages in Nigeria, even when they are getting a raw deal. Sumbo is a case in point. The social stigma attached to single mothers or divorcees is huge. Many would rather stay married and endure the ill-treatment. They will put up bold faces outside to give an indication of a happy marriage. Yemisi is not one of such hypocrites. As a matter of fact, she does not tell her husband her intention face-to-face but sends him an email, after her attempts to talk to him fail. To Demola, that is inappropriate. Again, if Yemisi had been dependent financially and emotionally on her husband, it may have not been that easy to detach herself sharply from him. As a matter of fact, Yemisi believes and acts independent of her husband. She cannot see herself in the role of some women who wait for and on their husbands for everything. Yemisi rejects “the notion of women as sex objects designed to gratify men’s sexual drive, designed to complement them by cooking their meals and bearing their children, otherwise massaging their delicate egos” (Olufunwa 6). She says that much to Kofo and to her mother on the reasons why she left her husband. To her, she has reached a stage in life where motherhood and wifehood do not define her. She seeks to re-evaluate herself as an individual who needs to be her own person.

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Yemisi’s conversation with her friend, Kofo, reveals a lot about her. Kofo seems to live in the shadow of a more dominant Yemisi. She tends to browbeat her and controls the dialogue. Much of the conversation is controlled by her. Her verbal dexterity or outspokenness is visible every time they are together. We are unable to see her at work to have a total view of her as she relates with her superiors and subordinates. It would have been interesting to see her managerial styles at work just as she questions Kofo and puts her on the defensive. Atta takes a swipe at a prominent concept in feminism termed “Sisterhood” or “Female bonding.” Sisterhood is a collective solidarity of women and a staunch belief that women cannot do it alone; they need the example and help of those who have done it before. In other words, women need to come together as sisters and have a fellow feeling to assist and empower the fledgling ones among them. According to Oyeronke (3), Sisterhood is “a mantra which assumes the common victimhood of all women” and she believes it is a “dominant model for feminine intercommunity relations.” Kofo belongs to a group of women tagged LWL. These are women who have made it in the society either by themselves or through the association of influential husbands. It is a union meant solely for “strategic alliance.” Kofo has won contracts and got loans through her alliance with LWL. Yet, Yemisi is strident in her attacks on the association. She sees them as an ostentatious group of women who are merely showing off their wealth. She compares them to the Soroptimist and the Rotarian Clubs that her mother belongs to and writes them off as flamboyant organisations whose internal rancour belittles whatever good intentions they may originally have. The language used in Renovation is simple, dramatic, realistic and fresh. It is laced with Yoruba slang and common conversational statements depicting a modern generation used for appropriate effects. It is also the language of everyday conversation; a realistic use of language. It also goes to show that Atta has an ear for dramatic language. This can be seen especially when she talks with her friend, Kofo. Some of the examples can be seen in such sentences as: “How for do? (188), “She should go and sit down! Who asked for her concern? Did you give her face? I hope you didn’t give her face” (189). This last statement is made when Kofo tells Yemisi about Sumbo asking after her. Yemisi is so angry that Kofo asks her several times if it is merely the matter that caused her energetic outburst. The statements “She should go and sit down” and “Did you give her face?” are transliterated versions from Yoruba and are typical lingos on the streets of Lagos. Other examples include “You know how I can’t stand her crowd and their fakeness and feferity.” Yemisi is here talking about her aversion to Sumbo and her friends’ attitude of show off, that is their ostentatious display of wealth and class. Kofo’s use of words also reveals the same sense of conversational language. An illustration is “Sit down there. He probably lives in a house with no running water and you’re here worrying about water pressure.” (206) “Sit down there” does not refer to a command but to the fact that Yemisi should be aware of the reality instead of being oblivious of the plight of artisans. It has the same meaning

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as the Lagos slang of “wake up” or “shine your eyes.” This is an aspect of the use of words on Atta’s stage that makes her language realistic and shows she has a good ear for dramatic language. Atta’s focus is on the empowered woman who wants so much out of life. Her message seems to be that such women can have it all; a good job and a home if they can work things out with their partners. This can be gleaned from Demola’s speech to Yemisi at the end of the play: “You’re in charge at work, so you can be in charge at home” (214) and this realisation dawns on Yemisi and she embraces him. Atta suggests that women should be empowered, be focused and take charge, but work things out. In Africa, family is important but at a certain age in a woman’s life, she needs to define herself not just as a wife or mother but herself. Yemisi’s story is a contemporary issue in modern Africa where highly educated women are finding it difficult to keep their homes and jobs. Atta’s deft handling of the material is realistic and poignant. It may have sounded irrational and strange to ask for a divorce over the email. And, as Oyin declares, it is unthinkable in the past but Atta’s sympathies are with Yemisi and so are the audience’s. Why must it be the man who makes the first move? Why does it become strange and irrational for the woman to ask for a divorce? Is she not human enough to know when to say no to a stifling relationship and walk out? Nora in Henrik Ibsen’s A Doll’s House took this path at the beginning of modern drama in Europe during the Victorian era and caused a stir. She could not imagine sacrificing her integrity for a man who is unwilling to stand by her. So, she walks out and slams the door. The slamming of the door is significant. It marks the end of being treated like a doll and the beginning of discovering her identity. Yemisi, in like manner, desires to work and live where she is appreciated and valued. She craves an understanding partner, a friend for all times and one who is willing to sacrifice to help her achieve her dreams and be the best she can be. When this dream cannot be achieved, she opts out of the relationship. This writer subscribes to Oyin, Yemisi’s mother’s attitude to marriage. Divorce is not the only alternative to an estranged marriage, especially when there is no issue of domestic violence. Just as Oyin advises, there is much to be gained from communication. Where there is love and commitment, good communication can bring about sacrificial love. As it is commonly said, “there is no perfect marriage;” both partners must strive at keeping the union working. Much can be gained from talking and sacrificing. In other words, when a woman has passed reproductive age and the children are grown, what a woman desires from a marital situation is companionship. The play is compact in many ways: first, all the actions occur in the living room of the house being renovated. Thus, providing an easy access. Characters move in and out of stage, perform their tasks and the story moves forward through action and dialogue. Second, the stage directions throughout the play are terse and to the point; words are used as minimally as possible. In fact, you would have thought that the narrative art of the novelist of describing the scenery, costumes, total narration of the type of set up and

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their effects on the characters would have taken up the opening montage, the opposite is the case. Atta seems to have mastered the art so well that all we see is this: “Afternoon. An unfurnished living room with two folding chairs.” This, to me, is enough for the director of the play and the audience. You are left to imagine all the issues associated with the setting. Third, Atta maximises the simple stage well. “There are exits on either side of the stage. One leads to an unseen front door and the other to an unseen renovation site.” Characters come on stage from the renovation site and go out through the other exit or back to the site like Mr Habib does all the time while Yemisi and the others from outside enter and go out through the main exit. In this way, there is no change of scenery and no complications. The play is compact, again, because there are minimal characters, they are five in all and we do not get to see the construction site boys but hear the noises made by their working tools. Writing on Sefi Atta’s novels and those of Chimamanda Adiche, Olufunwa (1) expresses the opinion that Atta shows a predilection for portraying female protagonists that are “superwomen.” Superwomen like “Iron Ladies” – women who are assertive and non-conformist. He believes that this in itself is not out of place since it “represents a growing realisation that Nigerian women are less prepared to bemoan gender injustice than to make conscious efforts to improve their own lives.” Olufunwa (1) argues that Atta’s female protagonists in Everything Good Will Come and Swallow are depicted as “enhanced females” and that they waste no time in reversing the dynamics of patriarchy. This is the whole pivot on which Renovation is built; Yemisi’s attempt to reverse the patriarchal structure of marriage in Lagos, and in Africa, by implication. Through Yemisi Kasumu’s example, African women do know that with the right education and financial empowerment, they can upturn the chains of oppression and subjugation. They can call the shots and then, there can be dialogue and issues can be settled to favour their self-identity.

Sefi Atta’s The Engagement Atta’s Engagement is a one-act play with seven scenes. It dramatises the tensions within a family as they prepare for the traditional engagement ceremony of one of the children. The preparation reveals conflicts and family secrets which culminate in radical decisions. The play is a family drama. The actions occur in the space of the Falanas’ sitting room and Kehinde’s bedroom. This almost limited space generates the tension and conflict within the family that lead to radical reactions. It is not how big a space is that makes it capable of producing the tension needed in a family. Atta shows clearly in the play that a small space like a living room can engender the necessary dramatic pressure for a family drama. The Falanas get ready to give away their daughter, Kehinde, and in the process, Taiwo discovers that Kehinde’s fiancé is involved with another girl on the eve of his engagement, at his Bachelor’s Party. Idowu claims the girl is his sister until

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it is discovered that he has no sister. The news startles everyone and they try to keep it away from Kehinde. Unfortunately, Kehinde overhears the secrets and decides to call off the ceremony. The family is in for more revelations as she declares that she is pregnant (before marriage) and intends to keep the child with or without the father’s help. A minor plot attached to this major story is the awkward relationship between Mr Sam and Mrs Remi Falana, the parents of the twin girls and their brother. On the surface, they present a perfect couple until the nervous situation reveals their secret; while Sam lives with the family, he has another family. He keeps this “other family” away from the first. He married the other woman in an engagement ceremony and they have three children. Remi is aggrieved, to say the least. The children are unhappy with both parents and the father could not care less about their feelings. Atta handles all these details so deftly in the expository stage that they do not come as “stagey,” wooden or unnecessary information overload. Through choice taunts from Taiwo, well-woven into the action, Atta reveals the dirty linen. Taiwo asks her father if his “other family” will come for the ceremony. She tells her sister not to perform the traditional “kneeling” before her husband at the ceremony. The audience knows that they are in for more than a ceremony, when also, Kehinde states that she thinks something will go wrong. Issues came to a head when Kehinde’s in-laws bring yams for the ceremony and they are placed inappropriately in the living room. Yams are symbols of fertility in the traditional wedding but Taiwo, with her big mouth, says the in-laws should not reduce her sister to a “womb.” Right from this stage of their interaction, we know that Taiwo is going to cause problems with her unguarded mouth. Idowu’s clumsy attitude to return the yams outside incurs the wrath of his father who believes that his words have no authority in the home again. Tension increases and Remi volunteers to take the yams out. Sam is not appeased and without thinking, he complains about his children’s disobedience compared to his “other family” where he is well respected. That seems to be the last straw for Remi, who, in a fit of anger, smashes one of the yams on the ground. In an outburst of anger, they exchange hot words that threaten the very pillar of their union. Kehinde witnesses this scene and the tirades and what she witnessed determines her decision not to go along with the ceremony. Thus, Atta skilfully makes the minor plot to reinforce the major plot. She does not have to search for another family to add to the tension. The familial conflict resides in the actions of Kehinde and her fiancé, on the one hand, and in her father and mother, on the other hand. The former is further strengthened by the latter. In other words, the Falanas’ marital issue is demonstrated in the situation of the would-be couple. The major thematic preoccupation of the play is the issue of marriage and (in)fidelity. Kehinde believes in the love of her fiancé but is unnerved by his incessant flirtations. He is seen with different girls on different occasions. Meanwhile, he demands that she stays at home. His excuse is that Kehinde

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is his “serious” girlfriend. He does not take her out and does not call as he promises. Kehinde holds on to this mirage of love, even when the man seems to have no integrity. She has no one to share this view with but her twin sister. She claims she has confronted him about the behaviour but he does not seem to want to change his ways. Idowu’s inadvertent outburst that he saw Kehinde’s fiancé with a girl at his Bachelor’s party becomes the defining moment for Kehinde. She knows that he will not change his philandering. It is a clever artistic manipulation by Atta to make Kehinde’s entrance coincide perfectly with the family’s discussion of her fiancé’s irresponsibility even on the night of their traditional wedding. There is, therefore, no need to create a gossip or a banal relation of the matter to her. It all falls within the dramatic dialogue. Atta employs minimal cast. The characters are family members, except for Aunty Moni, who is Remi’s sister. All of them are useful to the dramatic action and purpose. Sam is the uncaring father. We are not given the reason behind his taking the step towards forming another family. Is Remi, his wife, unfaithful? Or is he just polygamous at heart or he believes in varieties? It could be that he believes in serial monogamy. He is depicted as selfish, very conscious of his social standing and immature in comparing his “other family” with the one he resides with. Remi, Sam’s wife is his opposite. She is calm and carries her burden with equanimity. She suffers a lot of trauma from her husband’s blatant deceit and cheating. Not outspoken but quick-witted, Remi is deep. She relates to her sister all the escapades the twins had all because of Aunty Moni’s bad influence. Remi tries to intellectualise her husband’s callousness as “childishness” but when she is pushed to the wall, she talks back in torrents of anger: REMI: 

You’re a liar, Sam Falana! Sneaking behind my back, sneaking behind my children back! You had one family and you were so greedy you took another!

……… REMI:  (to

her children) What’s going on, what happened is that your father has had another wife for more than half our married life. He married her in an engagement ceremony. I found out after they’d had three children. A boy and two girls. They are your sisters and brother. He visits them when he can. They call him Daddy. She calls him her husband. The only thing that stops me from hating the whole lot of them is that I try to completely erase them from my mind. SAM:  (pauses) So you will not forgive me? REMI:  After three children? What can you say? That you regret it? SAM:  If I told you, you would never have accepted them. REMI:  I was not given a choice. And no, I would never have accepted them. But you should have thought about that before, not after. Look at the mess. It’s your mess, and we’re still carrying it on our heads. SAM:  You will take it to your grave, then. (26–28)

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Then, Remi turns the situation around and asks him if she is the culprit, what would have been his reaction: “Imagine. We are married a year, I am pregnant by another man. I tell you the child is not yours. Today I apologise to you. Would you forgive me?” Sam replies point-blank in the negative. She continues that if she does this again and again, would he forgive her? Sam has no answer for her. He may have realised the irresponsibility of his actions. Sam’s response or lack of it goes to show the deep roots of patriarchy in the Nigerian society. A man can do this and get away with it but it becomes unpardonable if a woman does the same act. It is a world that allows the man free reins in all things but for the woman, certain things are anathema. Aunty Moni’s life and love affairs are not to be emulated by the twin girls. To their mother, Moni is a bad influence. She has been married twice and has decided to have flings with any man that comes her way. This may be viewed as a reckless way of life but we should be worried about her motives. She abandons her last marriage because she met another woman on her matrimonial bed and when she questions her husband, he claims she merely saw an apparition. Moni’s horrible experiences with irresponsible men had hardened her to the extent that she has become “a woman of easy virtues.” She lives a “free” life and decides who she wants to date, dispenses with them at will and goes to parties with youngsters and gets drunk. She believes she is done with men’s lies. She is the “liberated” woman. Idowu, the brother to the twins is a young man in the university who treats his numerous girlfriends the same way Kehinde’s fiancé treats her. And, he seems to get away with it. As a matter of fact, the world created by Atta is a highly patriarchal one where men are the privileged. They can go out when they like while their women stay at home because the women are the “serious” ones to be married. They can have flings, flirt around but the woman dares not. The man like Sam can decide to have “another family” and the wife must not complain but forgive and if she does the same, he would not forgive her. He can bring another woman to their matrimonial bed and claim that what the wife has seen is an apparition. This is the world of vast privileges for the male while the female must take and take and bear but must not react. It is her lot. It is a world of duplicity and hypocrisy. Significantly, therefore, all the male characters have no redeeming qualities. They are shown as weak, conniving, manipulative, callous and uncaring. From the callous father with his “other family” to the young man, Idowu in the university with his chain of girlfriends, all seem to be shown as irresponsible. The twins, Taiwo and Kehinde, can be contrasted especially in the attitude to marriage and life generally. Taiwo is outspoken, militant and always agitating. She is vocal but does not weigh her words before saying them. In fact, her mother remonstrates her for not choosing the right time to say things. She is like a foil to her twin sister who is more reticent and restrained with her words and emotion. Atta uses her as both a foil to the character

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of Kehinde and as a confidant. Kehinde articulates their differences in the following way: KEHINDE:  Taiwo

makes a lot of noise. It has never been my way. I make up my mind, even if it takes a while. Everyone thinks Taiwo is stronger, because she talks so much. I think she is weak. All that noise she makes is like crying. She was always crying when we were small, over every little thing. I was not a crier. I’ve never been a crier, and this is my engagement, not hers. It is my decision. Taiwo always tries to tell me what to do, but not today. Let me think, Aunty. That’s all I need, time to think. I will let everyone know what I’ve decided. (20)

Taiwo, equally has her own share of “marital” woes. According to her mother, she used to live in London with an English boy who let her down. Taiwo is empowered by the kind of society she lives in and the very liberal ideas of female empowerment. Thus, she tells her sister not to kneel before her fiancé at the ceremony. Just as she shuns yam as an image of fertility, she opposes “kneeling” as an object of male oppression; an image of suppression and slavery especially for someone who is not faithful. Kehinde sees “kneeling” as part of the tradition, she kneels and the crowd cheers and everyone is happy. Taiwo sees the act beyond the surface meaning, as a patriarchal suppression of women. All the female characters seem to have power in one way or another. The cool Mrs Remi Falana finds her voice in the outburst with her husband. Hitherto, she has carried her burden alone. Finding her voice makes her powerful in a way, even when she cannot retrace the hands of the clock. Moni achieves a level of liberation in her decision to call the shots and not to be chained to a man and the image of a perfect marriage while she is unhappy. Kehinde decides not to go on with the ceremony even when she is aware of the society’s view of single mothers. She says: “I can’t fool myself anymore. I know what happened, and look at Mummy. It was almost as if she wanted to kill Daddy. I don’t ever want to be like that. (28) Atta skilfully hides the crowd made up of the guests and in-laws from the stage. This is tactful, in that their absence helps us to focus on the tension in the home. However, since the whole story is about the ceremony, Atta makes their songs filter in at specific times in the play mostly at the end of scenes to remind us that they are still there waiting for the bride’s family to come out. They sing melodious songs about weddings which are contrasted with the traumatic situation present inside the house. The crowd waits, oblivious of the tension within the Falana home. It is important to note that Kehinde’s final decision not to go through with the engagement is not hurriedly arrived at. She is left alone in her room to make up her mind. This shows her as a very deep person. It also reveals that she is not fickle-minded. She is fully aware of the consequences of her

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decision, yet she vows to stand against patriarchal values of marriage, represented by her father and her fiancé. Her father is all concerned about what the society will say. He invites a journalist from Metro Magazine because his daughter is the only one who studied Law like him and it is a society wedding of important people. Sam is not concerned about his daughter’s true happiness, nor worried about the lack of integrity of his future son-in-law. Sam’s sole desire is to have the ceremony, the first in the family. He is not bothered at the kind of life she would live after the wedding with a man who is irresponsible right from the beginning. His only wish is to maintain his societal image. Atta is deliberate in hiding Kehinde’s fiancé from the audience. As a matter of fact, he is not listed among the characters. We hear of what he does and says through other characters but never gets to see him. May be, he could have explained himself but the writer decides that he could be anybody. The dramatist purposely asks us to judge him by the things said about him. Perhaps, she seems to say we should believe all that is said about him. This is the dramatist’s choice in the play about women making choices. A major style adopted by Atta in all the plays in the Collection is to list out the characters, their roles and ages, the time of the action, the place and the setting of each play. For example, for The Engagement, we have: “Characters (she lists them), Time: Early 1990s, Place: Lagos, Nigeria and Setting: The play takes place in the Falana’s family room and Kehinde’s bedroom.” While this arrangement must have made the writing easy for her, it shows where she is coming from; she is first and foremost a novelist. The usual thing from an established dramatist is to have a Dramatis personae and include all other information in the opening stage direction. Thus, this small issue impinges on her playwriting. However, it must be stated that it is part and parcel of her style; what makes her different from another writer. Significantly and comparatively too, both plays deal with domestic issues. Erojikwe (433) in “Embattled Souls and a Circus of Shame in Sefi Atta’s Last Stand” avers that “through a simple family drama, she (Atta) weaves a web that presents circumstances that we face as a family, as a community and as a nation.” It is true that most female dramatists deal with family issues. This can be explained off as their forte and a topic to which they can make a significant opinion about because they know. More so, the family is the smallest unit of the society and when this foundation is bad, there will be problem in the whole society. It is also an area where women writers need to correct male writers’ misrepresentations. To give a fair assessment of Sefi Atta’s drama now can only be tentative because she is still evolving but what is uppermost in her work is her focus on the female question and her radical opinions on patriarchal issues that have chained women. Her female characters are empowered and can determine how they want to live their lives – what Olufunwa calls “enhanced” femininity or “the Super woman.”

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Conclusion This chapter explored Sefi Atta’s dramaturgy in two of her plays: Renovation and The Engagement. The plays are focused on women and their condition and are concerned with issues women deal with in modern day Lagos, Nigeria. They explore salient issues about women in marriage, choice of who to marry and the women’s defiance against stated patriarchal structures. The female protagonists are strong-willed. They are women who know what they want and go all out for it. The women are educated and empowered but they are made to act against customs and tradition in their bid to define themselves. Thus, they protest against a tradition that inhibits their freedom. Her handling of the material is mature. The plots are realistic and the stories are plausible and have integrity. Atta uses an everyday lingo laced with slangs typical of Lagos. The characters are minimal, realistic and authentic; the choices made by the women are choices that can happen. Atta makes use of minimal setting that works perfectly on stage. She has added a new dimension to female drama in Nigeria by creating women that are dominant and are achievers. Women who balance home and work well within the space they create for themselves. Her women are capable of making choices even within constricting patriarchal structures.

Works cited Atta, Sefi. Renovation in Selected Plays. Lagos: AAA Press, 2017, pp 173–214. Engagement in Selected Plays. Lagos: AAA Press, 2017, pp 1–28. Bain, Carl E. (ed.) The Norton Introduction to Literature: Drama. New York: W. W. Norton & Company Inc., 1973. Edochie, Chidelia. “Interview” in Sycamore Review. Department of English, Purdue University, Indiana, US. https://sycamorereview.com/tag/chidelia-edochie/. Erojikwe, Ikechukwu. “Embattled Souls and a Circus of Shame in Sefi Atta’s Last Stand” in African Female Playwrights: A Study of Matter and Manner. (ed.) Emeka Nwabueze. Enugu: ABIC Books, 2016. Hudson, W.H. An Introduction to the Study of English Literature. 2nd Edition. Delhi: A.I. T. B. S. Publishers, 2009. Olufunwa, Harry. “Superwoman: Enhanced Femininity in Contemporary Nigerian Women’s Fiction” in Asian Women 2012, Vol. 28, No. 3. pp 1–29. Oyewumi, Oyeronke. (ed.) African Women and Feminism: Reflecting on the Politics of Sisterhood. Trenton and Asmara: Africa World Press, 2003.

8

“Wedlock of Rage” Youth restiveness in Zulu Sofola and Bosede Ademilua-Afolayan’s drama Lekan Balogun

Introduction “…this alliance may so happy prove/To turn [y]our households’ rancour to pure love.” (Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, 3. 3. 91–92) This essay presents the argument that Zulu Sofola’s Wedlock of the Gods [hereafter Wedlock] and Bosede Ademilua-Afolayan’s Look Back in Gratitude [hereafter Look Back] are adaptations – of Shakespeare and Osborne – that are united by one purpose: the dramatisation of youth restiveness as a result of social failure. Scholars argue that adaptation practice has a complex history of recasting preexisting texts in order for them to speak to the purposes, fantasies and anxieties of various historical moments (Fischlin and Fortier 2000; Grau 2003; Lanier 2002; Ruthven 1979; Ward 2002.). Nonetheless, there are those for whom the idiom “adaptation of…” signals a more narrowly defined sort of work with easily recognisable plot points and character traits, those whose expectation of a “new” product is hinged on the “retelling of the source” in its specific instance which is tied to a more familiar version as a standard of measurement, a certain assumption of “axiomatic superiority” and “superiority of art form” (Anyokwu 230-57; Balogun 189-213; Stam 54-76.). Going beyond such an assumption of “inferior and secondary creations” not only applies to Wedlock which faintly echoes Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet as proposed in this essay but also Look Back in its relation to Osborne’s Look Back in Anger, in terms of “recognition and remembrance [that] are part of the pleasure (and risk) of adaptation” (Hutcheon 6). Then, this essay invites us to see in the two African plays the social value of art and literature as the unifying principle, “the thematic and narrative persistence [that] combines with material variation” (Ropars-Wuilleumier 131), and to contemplate ways in which an adaptation echoes an older work while articulating a new vision of the society. In the paragraphs that follow, the essay explores Wedlock’s and Look Back’s engagement with rebellion by young people against unfavourable social conditions and suggest at the same time a new perception of social relations as a material condition for peace, in both private and public spheres.

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Text and its double: Adapting, re-visioning, and social mobility Look Back is an announced and deliberate appropriation of its precursor text, Wedlock is not, nor has it ever been explored in that light. Regardless, both works exemplify the essence of the adaptation principle in terms of “localizing the universal or universalizing the local” (Iji 119), and they show how “the old concedes ground to the new, [and] the new demonstrates its allegiance to the old, “in a dynamic process in which “both entities shift and entertain the possibilities of merger as each seeks to probe and identify the limits of sameness and difference” (Richards 103). Susan Bennett has written that an adaptation allows us to experience the creation of community among audiences through literature, reinforces literary tradition and unites audiences in the recollection of a shared past and common culture by working nostalgically with its source/parent text (qtd in Bradley 5). Reading Wedlock and Look Back through this lens, of “uniting audiences in the recollection of a shared past and common culture” and “a shared experience of common realities” (Bennett 1996), affirms the assumption that “multiple versions [can and do] exist laterally, not vertically” both in the form of shift in genre and/ or medium, as well as in context and frame of reference, such as a story being told from another perspective (Hutcheon 7–8). Such a view invites us to consider both works from the perspective of intertextuality rather than fidelity. For instance, to be aware that Shakespeare also “adapted” Romeo and Juliet from not one but multiple “sources” including medieval concept of tragedy, neo-Platonic concept of love, the yoking together and juxtaposition of the concepts of Fate and freewill, folklore, mythology, etc., underscores this very notion of shared experience and realities, and the multiple afterlife of every stories, beyond their spatial and temporal provenance of experience. Shift in focus undergirds intertextuality as a veritable aspect of the adaptation practice, one which makes fidelity irrelevant but encourages concentration on the genre’s “ability to repeat without copying, to embed difference in similarity [and] to be at once both self and Other” (Hutcheon 174). As Fischlin and Fortier contend, there is the need to emphasise the generic quality which has produced the new work and the (inter)textual choices which informed it (10), an assumption that is similar to Julie Sanders’ concept of “the ‘rewriting’ impulse” within the purview of intertextuality that thrives on the discursive hue of “both knowing and unknowing audiences” (Hutcheon 121). As Sanders (41) writes, “we need to view literary adaptation and appropriation from this very positive vantage point, of having their own lives borne out of new cultural and aesthetic possibility while standing alongside the texts which have inspired them, enriching rather than ‘robbing’ them.” Sanders (7; 26) also asserts that the political aspect of “revisionary” writing should never occlude the simultaneously pleasurable aspect of reading into such texts their intertextual and allusive relationship with other texts [by] tracing and activating the networks of association in which, according to her, there is

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the need to see a new work as “a wholly new cultural product and domain,” along with its political potential, whether it’s connection to a certain antecedent work is announced, acknowledged, or not. Furthermore, Paul Ricoeur’s concepts of “playful transposition of the text” and “telling otherwise” are the other useful ways of connecting together Wedlock and Look Back. According to Ricoeur, narratives possess the power to provide alternative reality that accommodates both personal and collective experience, because the “duty to remember” is intimately linked to the “duty to tell.” Sofola and Ademilua-Afolayan (8–11) strive “to tell in another way” and so provide a “parallel history of […] victimisation” in order to “memorise the victims of [certain sad] history – the sufferers, the humiliated [and] the forgotten,” namely, young people who are challenged in a chaotic world caused by social imbalance in terms of the distribution and access to opportunities and wealth, endemic corruption, systemic failures, etc., that are the specific focus of both plays. Of concern in this present essay is the study of unfavourable youth reaction and social dilemma even though Wedlock chooses a traditional and culturally specific setting to direct its theme, while Look Back examines same within the context of a contemporary experience. Descriptions of youth as the “state of being young” or “young people, male and female, considered as a group” (Cambridge Dictionary, Online), as “the early period of existence, growth, or development” or “the period between childhood and maturity” (Merriam-Webster Online) show that it is a fluid categorisation that ranges from the ages of 15 to 24 and/or 30 years, respectively (Ndu 2000; Adewuyi 2008). On the other hand, youth restiveness is the behaviour that is “characterized by impatience or an absence of calm, unsettled demeanour” (The Free Dictionary Online) exhibited by the category of identified young people as a mean reaction to the negative side of social development. As both adolescents and young adults with “the qualities of being unwilling to be controlled,” the youth are a class whose (re)actions are often brought about by a combination of actions that they may be (un)consciously instrumental to and constitutes unwholesome and unacceptable behaviour in the society that they are also not immune to (Igbo and Ikpo 131). Put differently, youth restiveness is “sustained protestation by an organised body of youth embarked upon to enforce desired outcome from a constituted authority” (Elegbeleye 2009); or indeed a “sustained protestation that takes many forms ranging from acts of violence and lawlessness, to extreme actions such as kidnapping and arms insurgency, all of which have economic, political and religious dimensions” (Anasi 1–2); in short, our concern is specifically about the negative impacts of youth reaction on the society. Psychological variables and deprivation are identified as additional stimulants of conflict and restiveness of any kind; the more widespread and intense the deprivation among the members of a specific society, the greater both the possibilities of violent reaction and magnitude of violence which often accompanies it (Coleman 1996). Indeed, the complex nature of the human society

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requires that individuals’ and groups’ needs, aspirations and hopes, are met in one way or the other, within the observable parameters of the laws that govern the same society. Essentially, however, meeting such demands and expectations may appear difficult, if not impossible, especially in an environment that is suffused with brazen acts of corruption, acts which ultimately undermine the collective in its immediate and long-term realities. Apart from the psychological effect of such acts and the negative impact on both the economy and the populace, it is usually through open discontent, youth reaction and violence most especially, that the debilitating effects of those antisocial acts are most visibly pronounced. The more widespread and perpetual deprivations are in the society, the greater the possibility of violent reactions. If, as some scholars have argued, the youth population is the most active one needs no stretch of imagination to know that the society is on the way to perdition; for while youth restiveness is merely a scratch, it is nonetheless, a serious response that points to other, more dangerous, future manifestations of social disequilibrium.

Two texts, one vision: Conceptualising the “Wedlock of Rage” Sofola uses an uncanny act of deprivation as the basis of the conflict in Wedlock which dramatises the tragedy of the protagonists in their misguided attempt to upset the balance in the society that prides itself on agelong customs and hallowed tradition. She makes her most significant impact on the Nigerian literary landscape through the valorisation of tradition and culture which distinguishes her works from other Nigerian female playwrights who came immediately after her. Scholars and critics acknowledge tradition as the font of Sofola’s creative ingenuity and vision, but also argue that the same hinders her effort to establish firmly a convincing ideology compared to the playwrights of her generation, notably Soyinka (Dunton 1992; Olaniyan 1988). First written and produced on radio before being published in 1972 as a drama text, Wedlock portrays a consistent use of “authentic imagery, diction and rhythm” including a faithful reflection of the moral probity of the society that it dramatises, but fails ultimately to achieve a “complex and varied texture” owing largely to its too simplistic plot that robs it of serious consideration as a serious genre of tragedy (Adelugba 209). Nonetheless, Sofola’s aesthetics in the play as well as her pioneering effort in the development of Nigerian drama and theatre is acknowledged. Sofola sets the conflict of Wedlock in a cultural environment and a background of social morality and magical reality unlike Romeo and Juliet which dramatises the conflict among a certain class of people who occupies the top echelon of society and is torn between a prolonged and bitter family feud. Notwithstanding this difference, love is the central issue in both texts, and the actions of the characters are driven by love which reflects their individual attitude to society. Intimately connected also to love in both plays is the issue

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of fate in the lovers’ affair. Similarly, to Shakespeare’s “star-cross’d” lovers in the shadow of their warring Montague and Capulet families, Sofola also stresses at the end of her play, a certain infelicity that is ascribed to the divine. In the “Production Note,” a sort of “Author’s Note” as it is often the case Sofola expresses the cultural connotation underlying the play, Wedlock of the Gods is a tragedy which finds its roots in the ritual of death and mourning. The traditional solemnity of the ritual is distorted however for rather than engaging in the normal funeral rites and rituals which should have cleansed her and sent the spirit of the deceased to the world of the gods, the widow expresses a sense of liberation from an unwanted marriage, while the mother of the deceased performs rites meant to destroy her son’s widow as an act of vengeance for supposedly killing her son. (1) Unlike Shakespeare who glorifies his protagonists’ love in light of the feud that has destroyed both their families and cast a gloom over the society in which they live, Sofola seeks to appraise the continued veneration of some traditional practices, specifically leviration and its social relevance. On the one hand, Sofola seems to agree with the original idea of deserving deaths as a punishment of the lovers’ sins but, on the other hand, she complicates the issue with the circumstances that impel the protagonists to violate established customs and tradition. Olu Obafemi observes that there is an uneasy mesh of bourgeois romanticism and a mythopoeic vision in the play. Whereas the former is a celebration of the triumph of individual aspiration and glorifies a Western romanticist value, the latter captures the lovers’ defilement of traditional rites as well as their affront to established social customs which endorses a visional clash with the essence of reinstating cosmic unity (since the violation is regarded as a disruption in that supernatural order) in order to ensure that the communal psyche that they ruptured is repaired (Obafemi 164). One way of viewing Wedlock, as Obafemi eloquently presents it is to consider the protagonists’ tragedy in light of a clash between traditional value about relationship and marriage and a Western perception which glorifies individual choice that is inspired by a new vision of the world, and the glorification of a certain social imperative that is alien to the world in which the protagonists are born and nurtured. Another way of reading the situation, the particular point that this essay aims to underpin, views the protagonists’ resistance to the social norm in light of a traditional value system whose essence is tainted by corruption and by the very custodians of the hallowed tradition, hence rendering such cultural precepts detestable and stifling rather than edifying as originally conceived. In most traditional societies, cultural precepts and norms act as guiding principles upon which are placed ethical ideals such as morality, sacrifice and community. Any default necessarily upsets this balance, and if this is caused by a supposed custodian (elders in most cases), crucial aspects of this mechanism

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are not only suspected, the very foundation also becomes susceptible to challenge, its values promptly threatened. Wedlock chooses such a social setting to set the tragedy involving Ogwoma and Uloko. While the setting is traditional, the trajectory of the couple’s life follows a certain particular pattern that seems to be driven by a different impulse and social perception which contradict established norms. Ogwoma and Uloko’s intense love for each other is suddenly disrupted when her father, Ibekwe, who is under extreme financial crisis, decides to marry her off to a wealthy suitor, Adigwu, in order to offset the medical bill of her ailing younger brother, Edozie, since Uloko is unable to afford her binding and heavy bride price. In spite of this clear “daylight robbery,” the lovers are not discouraged from seeing each other, albeit secretly. Upon Adigwu’s death few years into the marriage and without a child, Ogwoma is expected to observe the period of mourning as a mark of respect for her late husband. While she is also to prepare herself to be married to her late husband’s younger brother as sanctioned by the practice of leviration, Ogwoma chooses instead to fully resume her affair with Uloko and getting pregnant with his child. Enraged by this shameful and brazen act of violation, her mother-in-law, Odibei, who has always suspected her (Ogwoma) of infidelity, is thus convinced that the lovers connived to kill her son. Using it as the evidence she needs to confirm her feeling that Adigwu did not die a natural death, she decides to punish the adventurous, young lovers. Rather than wait for the society’s usual mechanism of justice to take its full course and punish the lovers’ accordingly, Odibei decides to employ her own magical powers to avenge her son’s death; consequently, she uses a spell to make Ogwoma drink a poison that she has prepared, but she is also promptly beheaded by Uloko, who drinks from the same pot of poison afterward and dies with the hope of reuniting with his lover. From the foregoing, it would seem that forced marriage and its potential perpetuation through leviration are the bone of contention. However, seen from another perspective, one notices Sofola’s subtle commentary on the effect of psychological pressure which we shall tease out presently. First, we must turn attention to how Ibekwe reacts to his economic condition at the height of distress and need, and the social impact of that unpalatable decision to “sell his daughter,” Ogwoma, to the highest bidder, Adigwu. Sofola seems to suggest that a society which encourages or seems to neglect to punish injustices of any kind encourages aggression from those who are wronged. Ibekwe lost his father at a tender age and was consequently saddled with both the task of his own upbringing and care for his poor mother while his father’s relatives, the influential members of the Onowu family, only compounded his woes instead of coming to his aid, by seizing the only parcel of land left to him as inheritance by his father. In such a traditional set up, land has tremendous value since life is tied to it, and being unjustly dispossessed of the same constitutes both an act of terror and inhumanity, more so because Ibekwe has a family of his own to feed, a family whose survival depends on the proceeds from the land. Okolie, who represents that oppressive machinery, does not

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just strip Ibekwe of his wealth, but also his source of livelihood and the economic means with which he could cater for his family’s need. By the time his son, Edozie, falls sick and an expensive ritual is required to cure him, Ibekwe is left with the unsavoury alternative of trading off his daughter in order to raise money for his son’s treatment. It happens to be Adigwu who can afford the heavy bride wealth but not Uloko, whom she truly loves. Sofola, through Ibekwe’s plight, invites us to re-examine the type of social relation that characterises the society and how the highly-placed oppress the weak without the laws addressing such cruelty, even as we also consider the moral implication of the crime that the young lovers commit in their attempt to fight back. As Ibekwe says at the meeting of the elders “there are teeth among us here which are rotten inside even though they are white outside,” to which Ike also adds angrily “Okolie’s type need to be exposed to the world” (30–31). In the meeting, Sofola shows that social imbalance, the oppression of the poor and weak, ineffective law are ingredients for social destabilisation, for these pose serious threats to continued existence of the society. However, whereas Ibekwe accepts his fate as perhaps the easiest and convenient path to address his misery, and chooses at the same time to “sell” his daughter to Adigwu and “let things be” (32), Uloko chooses instead to confront the mechanism of his oppression; he is not given to such calm but painful disposition. He takes laws into his hands and damns the consequences. Uloko remains resolute despite the horrific consequences of the crime that he commits which include strange, uncontrollable swelling of the body from which water will eventually leak from every part of, refusal to be attended by any physician, rejection of corpse after death and the refusal of its burial (19– 20). Rather, he feels relieved and acts triumphantly; for him, Ogwoma’s pregnancy is a huge victory against oppressive machinery and “state sponsored” aggression, hence he boasts, “I planted my son in Ogwoma’s womb and I don’t regret it. I don’t regret it at all” (43). Aside from resistance and revenge, Uloko also makes a strong case for the society’s self-evaluation through the salient questions that he asks his mother, Ogoli, whom he accuses of not doing enough to prevent the injustice against him when Ogwoma is forced to marry Adigwu. While Ogoli also chides her son for the shameful act and for failing to live up to her dream as a proud son and sensible adult, he points out her reticence, “Did you let anyone know that, for money, the wife whom you had planned for your son was being forced from your hands and being given to someone else? Did you tell them that my life would become nothing if the one I love so much was given away to someone else?” (43). If considered differently, and Uloko’s situation is transposed onto our own realistic, contemporary experience, the questions that he asks his mother can be rephrased thus: “how can the society claim to be just and egalitarian when the official template of governance is corruption and/or nepotism? How come the same society that wants the youth to succeed closes every door of opportunity to them? While Ibekwe and Uloko’s lives are entwined in the tragedy: the one

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on the parcel of land snatched by his family and guilt of “selling” his daughter, the other on the illicit love affair with Ogwoma and violation of sacred tradition, both men are crushed by the powerful, corrupt Onovo family and the society’s complicity in the crime for its failure to address the exploitation of the poor by the rich and powerful. As financial insolvency drives the lovers’ actions, the fear about leviration completes the psychological pressure that prompts their heinous crime against society. Leviration is the practice of making a widow to marry the younger brother of her late husband. Although it is often argued that the widow has a choice because she can choose to marry any male member of her late husband’s family if she does not feel persuaded to marry any of his immediate brothers, this is still a limitation on her freedom and choice because she cannot possibly turn down the entire family, in case she is not interested in anyone presented to her. Although leviration was said to have been introduced as a measure against promiscuity, to reinforce the belief in chastity in marriage, decency in social relationship particularly for a married woman, even as it is also seen to encourage communality since the new husband would be expected to take good care of her and treat her children as his own, this seeming quality is tainted by the fact that that particular widow is placed in a disadvantageous situation since her right to choose whether or not to marry the family’s choice of suitor is taken from her, not to mention that leviration ultimately presents her as no more than an asset, one part of the deceased’s tangible properties whose ownership is automatically transferred to the family upon the demise of her husband. Hence, it goes without saying that the practice is sanctioned by patriarchy and that it has a damaging psychological effect on women whose values are trampled upon recklessly under the guise of venerating customs and tradition. Indeed, Ogwoma’s frenzied emotional and psychological reaction and her quick decision to renew her affairs with Uloko no sooner Adigwu died underscores this point. Caused by the expectations of her being subjected to leviration, her decision to get pregnant for Uloko has immense consequences both for her and her family, even as it undermines the peace in the society. Although Ogwoma isn’t totally barren because she once lost a child in Adigwu’s house, as her friend, Anwasia, informs us, it seems her personal loss is not as important as family or “communal” loss, considering that the only thing that can make Adigwu’s family to be happy is their taking full advantage of the marriage to her, in spite of his death, more so when he has a brother. As Anwasia explains, “Adigwu had no child by you. His people want a child for him by a woman who was his wife. You are that wife and his brother can have that child for him by you” (22). Anwasia is worried for her friend’s safety and wellbeing, while Ogwoma thinks instead of her father’s betrayal of her trust and the prospect of raising children by Adigwu’s brother whom she does not love. As such, as Ike puts it, “it is to a friendly concubine that a woman hops in the time of need” (29); Ogwoma prefers the company of Uloko than Adigwu’s family and whatever gain

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they hope to derive from leviration. She opts for happiness by reconnecting with the love of her life, Uloko, despite the risk and a steep price that come with her choice. Sofola’s attention to detail allows us to see how a culturally rooted society undergoes forceful change in a rather shocking and remarkable manner. Thus, when the most senior member of the Elders-in-Council, Diokpa Ata, prays “for peace and harmony” (33), we see that by failing to address the corruption in the land and neglecting to mention how peace can be achieved under circumstances of violent emotional and psychological oppression as we have in the world of the play, there is bound to be trouble. Using the lovers’ anguish as exemplary of the challenges that young people face daily, Sofola dramatises the effect of youth reaction in a society that is enmeshed between corruption and rituals that both limit youth freedom and aspiration. Adelugba mentions that Sofola’s effort “indicate[s] a strong interest in the dramatic and ritual heritage of her people and an involvement in the life styles and social modes of contemporary Nigerians” (212). From the foregoing, the lovers’ action may be seen in the light of organised social behaviour and youth restiveness that are geared towards enforcing the re-examination of the state of being that they found unhealthy, unethical and limiting in its overall complexity. Nevertheless, if the kind of youth reaction in Wedlock is both brutal and devastating and leads not just to the death of the lovers and their aggressor but also causes a terrible stain on the society’s conscience, Look Back’s dramatisation of rage, rebellion and rebuttal is no less terrifying, even though it involves no death. Although the tragic lovers challenge obsolete custom and tradition in Wedlock, the contemporary urban society that we encounter in Look Back, published in 2013 and first performed by a crop of talented youngsters who represents the class of people that the play depicts, is no different at least in terms of the psychology of oppression and resistance that follows. In many ways, Ademilua-Afolayan brings the subject matter closer to recent realities by making dramatising relevant issues that people grapple with, including religious bigotry, unemployment, etc. The play tells the story of a young, unhappy couple, Jagunlabi Fijabi and Tokunbo, whose marriage is on the brink of collapse not because of infidelity on the part of either of the couple but because of emotional and psychological trauma being experienced by Jagunlabi, whom Tokunbo falls in love after seeing him perform on stage. Jagunlabi rejects the gift of a luxurious apartment from his father-in-law and arrogant mother-in-law, as he prefers his uncomfortable one-room apartment that he cannot even afford to regularly pay the rent. Constantly shamed by his mother-in-law who seizes every opportunity to remind him of his poor background and unable to discharge his duties as a husband since he has no job, Jagunlabi becomes increasingly disenchanted, “angry” and belligerent. His irascibility also becomes endemic and uncontrollable. No matter how hard he tries, his effort is always not enough. Expectedly, he takes his anger out on his wife and subjects her

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to a series of emotional torture, physical abuse and verbal oppression; the relationship that he has with his friends is also strained. Look Back shows that Jagunlabi’s bitterness is fuelled by endemic poverty, small opportunities that only the highly placed have access to, and a totally, suffocating situation of social imbalance. He laments society’s glorification of mediocrity, impunity and brazen acts of terror, disregard for decorum and morality that are represented in the play by the elite class, including the corrupt female government official, his father-in-law and his wife. He recalls being insulted by the government official and the damaging effect that the situation has on him, “I felt like an animal but I had no alternative and I was determined to succeed without resorting to crime. But I tell you, my selfconfidence was eroded. I lost all sense of self-dignity. What dignity could a Makoko boy like me have?” (48; emphasis added). In order to retrieve his “stolen” honour and self-dignity, Jagunlabi tries his hands on many odd jobs. But, when the efforts failed, he becomes frustrated, his disenchantment manifests in his violent disposition to every issue and informed his maltreatment of his wife. His closest friend, Femi also tries unsuccessfully to help him. Similarly to its precursor text, Look Back in Anger, an uncompromising and decisive statement of a new theatre that dared to look at the world of Britain in 1956 (Banham 97), Look Back dramatises the disaffection of young people to stifling conditions. The protagonists of both plays are a vehicle of vision. They are characters who serve as tools with which the authors mirror their society. For instance, Look Back in Anger is set against the backdrop of World War II and the society’s industrial outlook – the Edwardian glory of England at that time which had given way to decay and wealth that was not really there anymore. Like other young people that his character mirrors, Jimmy Porter is frustrated, “angry” and ready to explode at the slightest provocation. His tirade and pain are a reflection of the many failures of the society including the inability to either notice the error of its ways or the solution to those errors. His situation also serves to highlight the imbalance in the society as well as the seeming hopelessness of either its correction or the society’s survival. This knowledge makes him more endearing and alive in his “anger” and all of its complexities (Afolayan, “Poetics of Anger”). We encounter Porter’s kind of “pathetic-energetic” character in Look Back, and most especially in Jagunlabi, whose name summarises his troublesome nature. According to Christopher Anyokwu, Ademilua-Afolayan, “deliberately and brilliantly gives her characters meaningful theme-related names” (247): Jagunlabi (“Warrior”) comes across as the archetypal bellicose and belligerent character; his surname, Fijabi (“Born as a consequence of wrangling”) also underscores his violent temperament, something akin to living up to the expectation of one’s name; Tokunbo Abeke (“the one to carry, pet and pamper”) is the over-pampered only daughter of a doting parent who is unfortunate to be married to a truculent fellow (Look Back 29); her father, Professor Olanbiwonninu whose name echoes the arrogance of ill-gotten wealth and influence. He is an example of excellence that is tainted by odious

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immorality, uncontrolled desire for undeserved and/or superfluous recognition and excessive luxury represented by his numerous titles and exotic array of cars (18); his wife, Mrs Jones is no better. In her opinion, Jagunlabi is a good-for-nothing nobody, an irascible wretched entity, and “Jagajaga that will be [Tokunbo’s] death” (55). She is the epitome of silent animosity between the affluent and the poor, “the human waifs and strays” whose existence and survival depends on “roughing out on the streets” (Anyokwu 244). Look Back carefully delineates these characters with naming device, and shows how class consciousness that is prevalent in the society encourages violence, whether emotional, psychological or physical. Jagunlabi’s case shows the tragedy of daily living that compels restive apprehension in young people. Meanwhile, Jagunlabi also resembles Archie Rice in Osborne’s The Entertainer; to start with, both characters run struggling and unsuccessful performing troupes. While Rice is a music-hall comedian and plays in a third-rate band, Jagunlabi is the director of a cultural troupe; as Rice is a “desperate failure” not only in his profession “but also in his human relationship” (Banham 28), Jagunlabi is a pathetic first class graduate of Theatre Arts, talented but jobless and frustrated. Through both characters, however, we see how writers educate the society. According to Banham, “out of despair, frustration, misery and anger, the character rises up against her/his tormentors with an articulateness, a strength of wit and scorn, a vividness of description, that leaves an indelible impression” (93), on those who encounter her/ him. Moreover, the universality of experience that adaptation often presents through characters underlines the fact that human reactions are governed by sociological, philosophical and even psychological imperatives irrespective of time and clime (Afolayan “Poetics of Anger”). As Fischlin and Fortier also contend, adaptation does depend on the “picturing” of a possibility implicit in the “original” and how the “material bodies of actors playing the roles” address the issues implicit in the changes noticed in the new work (11). By so doing, we read “originality” in the successor text the same way that its ancestor version is treated as “unique” in and of itself, hence eliminating completely any notion of inferiority on the part of the former or its fidelity to the latter. In essence, looking at Jagunlabi from the perspective of the socio-political background in which he has been created by the playwright and to which he reacts, as in his relation to Jimmy Porter’s British society, allows us to comprehend Ademilua-Afolayan’s attempt to address the concerns of her own environment. Through the lens of the disharmony in Jagunlabi and Tokunbo’s marriage as well as the ways in which this affect their relationship with others, Ademilua-Afolayan (21) dramatises how the culture of brazen corruption and social disequilibrium thereof, often combine to destroy the society and render both old and young people like Jagunlabi useless, both to themselves and the society itself, “while the naira flow into [the corrupt government officials’] pockets, the masses languish in poverty [and graduates like Jagunlabi] roam the streets without a job.” Predictably, such a corrupt

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system can only produce youth who are “good-for-nothing brutes” as Labisi describes Jagunlabi (32); while a broken system will wake the dissident spirit in the young people whose will, in turn, respond violently, extremism will be so high that people might not be able to survive, and the entire society will bear the brunt ultimately. Jagunlabi’s actions must necessarily be read as a response to social and systemic failure, and his reaction thought to be a demonstration of how a percentage of the populace, the youth populace whose future is mortgaged by socio-political misdemeanour, responds to situations that stifle them. Mainly, his distress is the reality that, despite the promise that his life seems to have as shown by his brilliance, the world has shown itself to be both unfair and possibly good for only those who have mastered the art of survival, by every means necessary. While his anger is directed at his wife, who is as unfortunate as he is, the ultimate target is the society that has failed him: a failed society that the corrupt female official and his in-laws represent. Not only that, the situation encourages the assimilation and expression of despicable conduct that seems laudable, such as ingratitude. As he himself confesses, “my dear Toks, she tries but who would ever tell a woman she is good” (17). Again, his reaction may also be construed as the expression of a concealed emotion traceable to his formative years. He tells Femi that his childhood was marked by intense pressure and squalor, including maltreatment by his stepmother who, rather than take care of him and his siblings, used the meager resources from his father to take care of her own children from a previous marriage. While the street taught him how to survive, it did not prepare him for the intricacies of marriage, how to deal with his wife and loved ones, and how to be patient when dealing with other people. Although he gained some other things, notably resilience and determination, he failed to learn both decorum and balance in human relation, while his temper is his worst undoing. Class consciousness is treated through Jagunlabi and Tokunbo’s troubled marriage and her parent’s reaction towards him. Look Back shows that poverty is a product of social inequality and injustice, even as it influences how people perceive themselves. Olanbiwoninu (50) regards Jagunlabi as “a moron,” and Mrs Jones considers his one-room apartment as a “dumping site” and “prison” even as she constantly reminds him of his pathetic lineage history. She tells her daughter, “I hear poverty is a tradition in his family. Tell him you don’t want to be a part of this poverty” (51). She always refuses to sit on the chair whenever she visits the couple for fear of being infected with lice, and declines Jagunlabi’s offer of drink for fear of being poisoned and openly expresses her repugnance and anger at him (17–18). To Tokunbo’s parent, Jagunlabi is a sad history of failure and irredeemable tragedy. As it were, the psychological effect of being treated with contempt and disregard has a far-reaching consequences and also plays itself out powerfully in Jagunlabi’s relationship with other people: his friend, Femi happens to be the only one who tolerate him; Tokunbo’s friend, Labisi, is

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the only one bold enough to challenge him; and he disrespects members of his struggling performing troupe (53–54). The effect of psychological pressure that manifests in Jagunlabi also draws attention to how failure in interpersonal relations and social pressure influence youth reaction against their society. Jagunlabi is also angry with religious institution especially the Church which he holds in contempt for Tokunbo’s over-dependence on prayer and her pastor whom he ( Jagunlabi’s) accuses his wife of flirting with. He believes that Tokunbo’s attitude to church matters (or her Pastor in this case) amounts to his own authority being undermined. As he rants, “go back to your church. What of the Pastor? Don’t they see you and the way you carry on with your pastor? Half the respect you give to your pastor, you don’t give me” (25). Osborne also considers the Church to be an obsolete institution, relic of an old order that had lost its value in Britain’s accelerated industrialisation. Meanwhile, Jagunlabi’s reaction also hints at how families today are trapped in the wiles of contemporary spiritualists who use the church for emotional and psychological therapy and oppression at one and the same time. Tokunbo’s recourse to church is a last resort to cope with Jagunlabi’s vituperation and perpetual breakdown, even though it shows how emotional, medical and/or psychological situations are given spiritual interpretation. The turning point of the couple’s troubled marriage is Tokunbo’s brave attempt to retrieve her honour by confronting Jagunlabi. In this regard, she uses her pregnancy as a crucial factor of negotiation. While Jagunlabi has always believed that Tokunbo is a weak, spoilt child, her reaction says otherwise. Tokunbo is not only well-disposed to taking her destiny in her own hand, her pregnancy also signals hope for the future, although practical reality shows that it is not all “light at the end of the tunnel” after all, especially in real-life situation.

Conclusion In this chapter, we examined Sofola’s Wedlock of the gods and AdemiluaAfolayan’s Look Back in Gratitude as adaptations of Shakespeare and Osborne in terms of their dramatisation of youth restiveness. Although AdemiluaAfolayan acknowledges Osborne’s work as the precursor text to her own, Sofola’s play has hardly been examined in light of its connection to Shakespeare’s. Nonetheless, we argued that the protagonists of both texts, while encumbered by tradition and customs as well as socio-economic imbalance in their various societies, challenge such orthodoxies and their reactions allow us to view how imbalances, oppression, etc., constitute structures which provide the enabling environment for dissent within the home, in the domestic and public spheres. We concluded that organised youth actions not only undermine peace but also underscore the unstable relations between the old and the new generation in any given society.

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Works cited Adelugba, Dapo. “Wale Ogunyemi, ‘Zulu Sofola and Ola Rotimi: Three Dramatists in Search of a Language’” Theatre in Africa. eds. Ogunba, Oyin and Abiola Irele. Ibadan: Ibadan University Press, 1978. 201–20. Ademilua-Afolayan, Bosede. Look Back in Gratitude. Ibadan: Kraftgriot, 2013. “Poetics of Anger in John Osborne’s Look Back in Anger and Femi Osofisan’s The Chattering and the Song” British Journal of Arts and Social Sciences, vol. 9, no. 1, 2012:123–141. Adewuyi, Temitayo Deborah. “Utilization of Self-counselling for Youth Peer Relationship” The Lagos Counsellor, vol. 1, no. 1, 2008:5–21. Anasi, Stella. “Curbing Youth Restiveness in Nigeria: The Role of Instruction and Libraries” Library Philosophy and Practice (e-journal), vol. 388, 2010:1–7. Anyokwu, Chris. “British Sun in An African Sky: Locating the Metropole in the Margin in John Osborne’s Look Back in Anger and Bosede Ademilua-Afolayan’s Look Back in Gratitude” Ihafa: A Journal of African Studies, vol. 6, no. 1, 2013:230–57. Balogun, Lekan. “The Politics of Appropriation in Bosede Ademilua-Afolayan’s Look Back in Gratitude” Lagos Review of English Studies: A Journal of Language and Literary Studies, vol. 18, no. 1, 2018:189–213. Banham, Martin. Osborne. Edinburgh: Oliver and Boyd, 1969. Bennett, Susan. Performing Nostalgia: Shifting Shakespeare and the Contemporary Past. London: Routledge, 1996. Bradley, Lynne. Adapting King Lear for the Stage. Farnham, UK: Ashgate Publishing Ltd, 2013. Cambridge Dictionary. Online. https://dictionary.cambridge.org/ [Accessed March 3 2020]. Coleman, James Samuel. Nigeria: Background to Nationalism. Benin City: Borburg and Winston, 1996. Dunton, Chris. Make Man Talk True: Nigerian Drama in English since 1970. London: Hans Zell Publications, 1992. Elegbeleye, Oluwatobi Samuel. “Recreational Facilities in Schools: A Panacea for Youth Restiveness” Journal of Human Ecology, vol. 18, no. 2, 2005:93–98. Fischlin, Daniel and Mark Fortier. Adaptations of Shakespeare: a Critical Anthology of Plays from the Seventeenth Century to the Present. New York: Routledge, 2000. Grau, Oliver. Virtual Art: From Illusion to Immersion. Trans. Gloria Custance. Cambridge: MIT Press, 2003. Hutcheon, Linda. A Theory of Adaptation. New York: Routledge, 2006. Igbo, Happiness Ihuoma and Ikpo, Innocent. “Causes, Effects and Ways of Curbing Youth Restiveness in Nigeria: Implication for Counselling” Journal of Education and Practice, vol. 4, no. 6, 2013:131–7. Iji, Edde. “From Shakespeare, Jarry and Ionesco to Soyinka: Thoughts on Adaptation of Texts” After The Nobel Prize: Reflections on African Literature, Governance and Development. eds. Adeoti, Gbemisola and Mabel Evwhierhoma. Ibadan: Kraft Books, 2006:94–122. Lanier, Douglas. Shakespeare and Modern Popular Culture. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002. Merriam-Webster Dictionary. Online. https://www.merriam-webster.com/ [Accessed Mar 3 2020]. Ndu, Eugene Chigozie. “The Role of Family in Managing Indiscipline Among Youths in Nigeria” Journal of Counselling Psychology, vol. 1, 2000: 45–51.

‘Wedlock of Rage’ 119 Obafemi, Olu. Contemporary Nigerian Theatre: Cultural Heritage and Social Vision. Bayreuth: Bayreuth African Studies, 1996. Olaniyan, Tejumola. “Zulu Sofola and Her Sisters: The Examples of The Sweet Trap” Proceedings of the 13th African Literature Association ALA Conference, 1988. Osborne, John. Look Back in Anger and Other Plays. London & Boston: Faber and Faber, 1993. Richards, L. Sandra. “Yoruba Gods on the American Stage: August Wilson’s Joe Turner’s Come and Gone” African Drama and Performance. eds. Conteh-Morgan, John and Tejumola Olaniyan. Bloomington & Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 2004. 94–106. Richoeur, Paul. “Memory and Forgetting” Questioning Ethics: Contemporary Debates in Philosophy. eds. Richard Kearney and Mark Dooley. New York: Routledge, 1999. 5–11. Ropars-Wuilleumier, Marie-Clair. “Louevreau Double: SUR le Paradoxes de l’adaptation” La transécriture: Pour unetheorie de l’adaptation. ed. Groensteen, Thierry. Québec: Edition Nota Bene,1988. 131–49. Ruthven, K.K. Critical Assumptions. Cambridge and New York: Cambridge University Press, 1979. Sanders, Julie. Adaptation and Appropriation. New York: Routledge, 1996. Shakespeare, William. The Complete Works of Shakespeare: The Alexander Text. UK: HarperCollins Publishers, 2006. Stam, Robert. “The Dialogics of Adaptation” Film Adaptation. ed. Naremore, James. New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 2000. 54–76. The Free Dictionary. Online. https://www.thefreedictionary.com/ [Accessed March 3 2020]. Ward, Paul. “Videogames as Remediated Animated” ScreenPlay: Videogames/Cinema/ Interfaces. eds. King, Geoff and Krzywinska Tanya. London: Wallflower Press, 2002. 122–35.

9

Language, gender and cultural practices in the plays of two Nigerian female playwrights Mojisola Shodipe

Introduction and background This chapter explores the sociolinguistic dimensions of gender discourse within the ambience of the Nigerian socio-cultural landscape through the dramatic viewpoints of two emerging female dramatists – Bosede AdemiluaAfolayan and Osita Ezenwanebe. These two budding playwrights have added their voices to the changing patterns of women’s writings on women in seeking to advance the course of womanhood through their depictions of sociological and political issues in the Nigerian setting. Like their female counterparts in other genres of literature, women playwrights have engaged scholarly interest in critical discourses about the interconnections of culture with varied socio-economic and socio-political issues. But more specifically, the thrust of African female playwrights’ dramaturgy has been the imperative of redressing the misrepresentation of women’s roles in social processes and the quest for complementary roles by men and women in contemporary society. Indeed, studies in the discourse of gender abound in many genres of literature as in many other disciplines including psychology, anthropology and ethnographies of communication. Like all literary genres, drama seeks to achieve specified thematic concerns amplified from the writer’s viewpoint. Against the background of the relative prominence and perceived dominance of male dramatists in the Nigerian literary scene, the central concern of the pioneer female dramatists was the quest to project feminine voices by protesting what was perceived as the misrepresentation of women in the works of male-dominated dramatists. The works of renowned pioneer female playwrights like Zulu Sofola, Tess Onwueme (Nigeria) and Ama Ata Aidoo (Ghana) are dominant reference points for contemporary examinations of the role of Nigerian female writers in the quest for an adequate voice to counter the negative presentation of women and women’s interests in male-authored plays. More specifically, the pioneer female dramatists projected a pre-occupation with the task of redressing male domination and oppression of women as exhibited in various cultural practices. Thus, plays like Dilemma of a Ghost (Ama Ata Aidoo) and Tell it to the Women (Tess Onwueme) attempted to address this imbalance by

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presenting strong female characters as icons of the struggle for female emancipation. According to Jegede, this new direction has encouraged more women writers and theorists to produce new narratives which seek to “demystify the hidden gender codes that have hitherto promoted male domination of the power structure and its representation in literary works.” However, women’s writings in Africa and other parts of the world have witnessed significant progress, from the pioneering tenets of the Eurocentric feminist movements to the advent of the womanist perspective which advocates social change, especially with regard to the everyday experiences of black women as well as women of marginalised groups (Walker 1982). The womanist approach which applies to the discourse of gender within the ambience of an African environment, otherwise called Africana Womanism (Hudson-Weems, 2004; 50), finds expression in the writings of African female writers as a combination of literary creativity and activism. This direction has spurred a new breed of women writers whose artistic interests transcend the realm of gender equality, by evolving a philosophy which incorporates the quest for social change for both sexes within the context of race, politics and socio-economic considerations. This crusading aspect of the womanist perspective forms the fulcrum of the literary contributions of the new generation of African women writers, whose literary activism belies their recognition of the theatre as an opportunity to create awareness about socio-political problems of modern society. To this end, new playwrights across Africa have made giant strides in this direction by focusing on, and highlighting a wide range of controversial societal challenges such as land rights, female circumcision, HIV/AIDS, women’s rights, children’s rights, girl-child education, prostitution, women and child trafficking, race/colour identities, among others (Perkins, Kathy A. 2009:4). This chapter examines the contributions of two upcoming female Nigerian playwrights to contemporary literary works that promote and reinforce the importance of the female voice in contemporary social ordering. Much of the on-going debates centre on the quest for complementariness of the sexes in socio-political development. In this regard, Wood has observed that many modern-day writers have focused on the ways in which cultural values influence dominant views about gender differentiation in modern society. By situating their plays in distinct sociological and socio-political realms of the interactions of males and females, Ademilua-Afolayan and Ezenwanebe present the cultural dynamics of contemporary Nigerian society from two unique ethnic perspectives – Yoruba and Igbo, respectively. Beyond these, the distinct dramatic stand-points of the two playwrights represent significant aspects of the womanist perspective as espoused in the works of scholars like Walker, Hudson-Weems and Okonjo-Ogunyemi, in their varied presentations of women in contemporary literature as strong characters who fight repressive cultural practices as a means of affirming the dignity of womanhood. Ademilua-Afolayan’s dramaturgy reflects poignant ironies in the presentation of the corrosive impact of unrestrained power on communal social order.

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Once Upon an Elephant explores the enthralling conflict within the kingship institution in a Yoruba traditional setting where greed and corruption breed tyranny and oppression. Within the ambience of a culture-oriented socio-political crisis, the play progresses through an intricate web of ironies and heightened suspense to highlight significant aspects of the gender discourse by projecting female characters as co-contenders to communal importance alongside their male counterparts, despite their relative domesticated positions. Ezenwanebe’s Adaugo, on the other hand, situates the thrust of her dramaturgy in the modern-day imperative of equitable sharing of socio-economic responsibilities between males and females. From the standpoint of domestic conflict between a city-dwelling Igbo couple, the playwright situates both male and female characters in a societal grid-lock where the woman emerges as the solution provider in a marital crisis occasioned by socio-economic role-reversal.

Language, gender and culture in modern drama Language is a powerful tool of cultural expression in all genres of literature. The effective communication of artistic viewpoints and ideological arguments in literature relies heavily on the writer’s manipulation of linguistic resources to project and reinforce contemporary narratives. For the dramatist, language serves a more crucial function in the dramatisation of the dynamics of culture or the complexities of modernity in specific human societies. Beyond the imperative of “writing the actions” of the characters in the play through meaningful stage directions and scenic descriptions, the dramatist has the greater task of projecting the unique social, communal or societal norms of the setting. In creating characters whose dramatic interactions project the salient issues and contradictions in ideological standpoints, the dramatist employs the instrumentality of language to project the emotional, psychological and ethical components of the social space which defines and activates his/her craft.

Conceptual considerations This study operates on the premise of a sociolinguistic perspective which interrogates language use in relation to society, as exemplified in the works of Chambers, 1995:1; Coulmas, 1997:16; Labov, 1972: xiii; Trudgill, 1988:40, 36-45. Language as a social phenomenon is closely connected to the social structure and value system of the society. Peter Trudgill has observed that language is an important factor in group identification, group solidarity as well as a crucial tool in the signalling of differences among members of a community. Sociolinguistics, thus, investigates language as a social and cultural phenomenon by focusing on language performance as both a linguistic and interactional process. In this regard, it is argued that the different role of men and women in society is determined by the norms of the cultural environment in which they co-exist. Thus,

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individuals’ ways of speaking are a function of their general understanding of the process of communal interaction in the social setting in which they find themselves. The interactional process involves the recognition of the impact of the social structure on the social practices which are mutually shared by all members of the community. While the social structure includes patterns of governance and communal organisation at the macro level, social practices range from everyday activities like greetings, dressing, food and kinship to more intricate communal activities like festivals, rituals, normative rules, customs, values, taboos and social role definitions. With insights from the works of sociolinguists like Saville-Troike,  this perspective is the domain of the ethnography of communication which takes language primarily as a socially oriented cultural form. It also recognises the need to analyse the language itself as a communicative code as well as the cognitive processes of its speakers and hearers. The central focus of the ethnography of communication is the speech community and the unique patterning of communicative behaviour within it as a constituent of systems of culture. This perspective, otherwise known as “the ethnography of speaking” (Saville-Troike 48) is deeply rooted in sociological orientation with interests in interactional analysis and role identity. The premise of this perspective is that when considered as a tool for the analysis of gender in literary works, language is not neutral, rather it reflects cultural values and thus exerts a potent influence on human perceptions about the world in which they are located. Equally relevant to the conceptual basis of this chapter is the standpoint theory (Collins, P.H. 1986: 518-524; Harding, Sandra 1991:3; Ruddick, Sara 1989:55), a perspective which outlines the impact of the cultural environment on the personal development of the individual. The standpoint theory focuses on how social factors like race, gender and class have the potential to influence the circumstances of individuals’ lives, particularly the individuals’ position in society as well as the unique experiences associated with such positions. The standpoint theory is an important component of the cultural perspective on gender which seeks to explain the dynamics of gender arrangements within the society. This theoretical direction contends that an individual’s standpoint in society is a strong determinant of “what he or she knows, feels, does” and that this “directs an individual’s understanding of social life as a whole” (Wood 51). According to the standpoint theory, different social groups (such as men and women) tend to develop unique skills, attitudes, thought patterns and world views based on their standpoint (position) within society. The standpoint of men and women in society, thus, determines their social behaviour and implication, how members of each group define themselves. The view of the standpoint theory extends the discussion of the cultural dimension to gender in line with the framework of the pioneer theory of symbolic interaction (George Herbert Mead 1934) which posits that individuals’ participation in society is a function of communication with others. In other words, the concept of socialisation embodies the awareness of personal identity which is generally

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achieved in the process of learning about gender through communication with other members of the society. Such socialisation usually involves the transmission of societal norms and values, and by extension, the expectations of the society, regarding the cultural roles which society assigns to members of the sexes. The contention of the theory of symbolic interaction is that gender is a major definitive factor in the establishment of personal identity as it is often communicated to children from infancy, through parents, relatives, peers, teachers and other agents of society. Therefore, gender is intricately tied to social order (Wood and Lenze 1991). According to Wood (48), the primacy of gender education is easily discernible in the intensity of societal emphasis, such that “before they know their nationality, religion or social status, most children develop gender constancy and see themselves as gendered beings.”

Once upon an elephant and adaugo: Language and gender in cultural perspective Studies in gender discourse have included the examination of the idea of differentiation in male and female interactional patterns in different cultural settings. According to Coates, gender differences in language have been largely attributed to “social pressures” which may bring about some level of miscommunication between males and females. These social pressures are generally interpreted to include patterns of cultural education which influence social roles and the definition of individual identity (Wood 2004: 8-23; Ruddick 1989: preface). A major consequence of the growing awareness that the investigation of language should transcend the exploration of systems (grammar and phonology) is the development of new disciplines such as ethno-methodology (Garfinkel), speech acts theory (Austin, Searle), as well as pragmatics (Griffiths) and discourse analysis (Fairclough 2003). These fields of language offer fresh perspectives to the exploration of the socio-cultural dynamics of speech interactions among members of speech communities. The two playwrights’ perspectives to the differing gender roles of their female protagonists in relation to their male counterparts provide insights into the connections between gender differentiation and cultural practices in their works. The idea of speech communities is crucial to my exploration of language in the dramaturgy of Bosede Ademilua-Afolayan and Osita Ezenwanebe for many reasons. While communities of language speakers are generally defined by their common-core language practices as exhibited in their everyday speech patterns, the investigation of the sociolinguistic components of the speech patterns would rely heavily on the speakers’ shared values, belief systems, as well as their unifying cultural norms and world views. Thus, cultural practices such as rituals, public processions, chieftaincy systems, as well as communal structure and household hierarchies have important implications for the investigation of power relations between male and female members

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of the community. These are features which are crucially explicated in the ethnographic content of the dramatist’s use of dialogue and stage directions. To this end, the two plays represent the playwrights’ individual voices in the exploration of culture-based thematic concerns. Thus, the recognition that the playwrights’ deployment of unique cultural practices portrays the characters’ individual and collective challenges in specific cultural settings. A major source of communal conflict in modern drama is often exhibited in the co-habitation of men and women in different social settings. The playwrights’ individual approaches to the role of language in the portrayal of gender relations are based on the recognition of the different ethnic backgrounds which inform the communication between the sexes, within the ambience of the larger socio-political issues being explored in the two plays.

Language, gender and the female voice in once upon an elephant Ademilua-Afolayan’s exploration of the thematic concern of Once Upon an Elephant may be described as relating directly to Yoruba concept of power in the construction of gender, the play specifically reflects the ritualistic dimensions to the exploration of male-female power relations in a Yoruba traditional setting. Indeed, the issues of sex and gender are deeply entrenched in the playwright’s portrayal of ritual in Once Upon an Elephant. The play begins in a ritual scene that involves the king and his leading chiefs – all men. The exclusion of women in this sacred traditional practice speaks volumes about the societal perception of gender roles in the structure of this traditional setting. Ritual practices in Once Upon an Elephant are strongly tied to leadership and power structure in this Yoruba traditional setting. Since women are excluded from the hierarchy of the traditional chieftaincy system in this play, they do not participate in this important process of installing a new king. Every aspect of the rituals, thus, tends to reflect and reinforce the issue of male dominance and oppression. While the women are relegated to the background in the decisions of the kingship installation, the critical ingredient for the ritual is the virginity of Desola, which is forcefully taken from her as she is ambushed and cruelly raped by Ajanaku as part of the ascension ritual! Thus, from the onset, the socio-political climate in Once Upon an Elephant projects the female characters in an uneven position, thus presenting a problematic situation which must be addressed. According to Drewal (173): “The formalization of sex roles lends itself easily to deconstruction, not only by ethnographers, but by the performers themselves. In this way, performers use the structure of ritual to reflect on gender and sex role divisions.” Similarly, the conversational imbalance between Ajanaku and Iya Agba, his estranged “step-mother,” is a strong illustration of the verbal aggressiveness

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which defines the character of Ajanaku in his interaction with Iya Agba. Every meeting between these two contending characters is an exposition to the deep-seated hatred and venom that defines their curious relationship. But while Iya Agba’s dialogic turns are often witty and methodical, her logic is calmly rendered in scathing metaphorical codes. AJANAKU: I IYA

am Ajanaku. It is from childhood that the elephant has been greater than the buffalo. AGBA: Really? To the real elephant belongs the forest; all other ones are pretenders. To the rafter belongs the load; the shelf only pretends Olaniyonu, no matter how much rain beats the tree stump, it cannot change its position. Yes, indeed, you are Ajanaku; so very big now, mighty, full of strength, but with vain glory and an empty brain. You are doomed to fail. (39).

Ajanaku’s verbal attacks tend to heighten the idiomatic significance of Iya Agba’s assertions by portraying the dramatic ironies which encapsulate the playwright’s constant allusions to the strands of power relations in the play. The fact that the playwright deploys female characters as both victims and contenders in the rising conflict of Once Upon an Elephant points to the idea of inclusiveness which is an important aspect of the literary activism of the new breed women playwrights. The strong female characters use their political influence to emancipate women like Desola and Omoyeni who are victims of the cruel machinations of men like Ajanaku and Serubawon. The important roles played by women like Iyale and Iya Agba in the unfolding of the conflict in this play largely promote Ademilua-Afolayan’s acknowledgment of gender role definitions as a crucial component of her political dramaturgy. The playwright explores the idea of women’s solidarity with one another as an important aspect of their existence and survival in a male-dominated terrain. Thus, Iyale’s timely recognition of Iya Agba’s centrality in the “palace conflict” which resulted in the latter’s banishment goes a long way to promote the women’s inclusiveness in the prevailing communal crisis. From her relative supportive standpoint, Iyale can project her own individual identity as she not only assumes an advisory position before her opinionated husband, she engages her husband, Odejimi, in a thought-provoking discussion about the community’s leadership challenge: cannot solve all the problems in the world, Baale mi. Think less of what you cannot handle. Do you even think it is only you that worry about Olaniyonu? (28).

IYALE:  You

Furthermore, Iyale stands out as the only character who consistently upholds the sanity of Iya Agba and constantly pushes her into the public consciousness. She achieves this by providing insights into the wisdom behind the

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latter’s frequent criticisms of the community’s leadership. This infuriates the men in power: IYALE:  ……That is what Iya Agba says all the time. ODEJIMI:  Iya Agba? Can you talk about people who are sane? IYALE:  Iya Agba insane? You also still believe what people are saying? (Chuckles.)

Oh, why am I telling you anyway? Aren’t you one of them? (29) Thus, despite the overwhelming magnitude of the societal ills which plagues the community and the people, it is the strong female characters who uphold the political activism and nurture the hope which eventually culminates in the extermination of the despotic leader and the restoration of social order. Moreover, the peculiar naming of these two rallying female characters equally holds some cultural significance to the idea of women’s identification with the promotion of social order. “Iyale” in Yoruba cultural setting means literally “mother of the house.” In its symbolic representation, the nomenclature of “Iyale” may be applied to the African woman’s flair for leadership through her characteristic maternal instinct for caring, supporting, encouraging and protecting her household (Wood 1993: 51). “Iya Agba” on the other hand may be interpreted to mean “grandmother” or more appropriately, “mother of all mothers” as far as the play is concerned. The two leading women remain true to their moral calling by providing the necessary impetus to the socio-political activism which brings the political conflict to a logical resolution. Thus, Iya Agba, the symbol of sanity in an insane polity, has the last word: “Whoever wishes to die a decent life should live a decent life. As one lives, so one dies, and so shall one be buried” (80) Thus, through the activism of Iya Agba and Iyale, the women in Once Upon an Elephant regain their voices as emancipators and positive leadership figures in a male-dominated cultural setting.

Gender relations and ways of speaking in once upon an elephant and adaugo The dominant pattern of the conversation between male and female characters in these two plays strongly reflect cultural conditioning as a defining factor in the stifling of female voices by their male counterparts. The fact that both plays feature dominant and aggressive male protagonists is not a coincidence: the consistent aggressiveness, hostility and uncompromising disposition of the male protagonists (Chuma in Adaugo and Ajanaku in Once Upon an Elephant) to their female counterparts largely represent the sociolinguistic pattern of male-female communication. Scholars of gender speech patterns (Cameron1991: 49; Coates 1993: Introduction; Wood 1993: 146-148) have established that loud and aggressive argument is a

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common feature of male speech, while shouting, name-calling, threats and insults are constituents of male verbal aggressiveness (Coates). At the height of their marital conflict when Chuma is deceived by the lustful Eddy into believing that Adaugo is taking money from men to support the family, Adaugo’s attempt to placate her enraged husband fails and a heated argument ensues. While Adaugo’s interactional pattern is persuasive and conciliatory, Chuma’s response is sharp and visceral, as he resorts to name-calling: CHUMA: 

So that is how you have been sneaking out at my back to your men friends? I should have known I have been living with a prostitute. Come to think of it; a whole fifteen years lived in falsehood. ADAUGO:  (Flares up. The children gather and peep.) Chukwuma, what did you just say? CHUMA:  You heard me clearly; I was not holding water in my mouth. ADAUGO:  Me, Adaugo? A what? CHUMA:  (Flares up too) An ashawo! Yes, you! A cheap one for that matter! That’s what you are! (50)

Turn-taking Furthermore, interactional features like turn-taking between men and women in both plays are often characterised by questions which tend to have a different meaning for both sexes. Female characters like Iyale and Iya Agba in Once Upon an Elephant; Adaugo and her friend, Mrs Helen Dike, in Adaugo frequently ask questions as a conversation maintenance strategy while the male characters use questions for conversational dominance. In the conversation between Iya Agba and Odejimi, her husband, she uses questions to draw her husband out of his hostile disposition, while the latter uses questions first to dissuade, then to dominate when she would not be dissuaded: IYA AGBA: ……

Are you not supposed to be at the palace with the other elders? ODEJIMI:  Haven’t you found your blue gele yet? IYA AGBA:  This is it…… But I wonder if it is the gele that is important or giving our new king a befitting welcome into royalty. (Silence.) Baale mi, are you all right? ODEJIMI:  Did I complain of sickness? IYA AGBA:  Are we quarrelling? ODEJIMI:  Am I holding a cane? (29) The deployment of language devices in both plays is characterised by the prevalence of “ways of speaking” as components of the cultural setting. The communication between men and women at the domestic level is exemplified by the unique traditional address terms with which the leading women interact with their husbands. Adaugo exhibits her “educated-ness” by habitually

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referring to her husband as “Mine;” while her conservative husband refers to her as “Ugom” meaning “my Ugo” in solidarity with his traditional roots. In Once Upon an Elephant, Iya Agba addresses her husband, Odejimi, as “Baale mi” (My husband), a traditional endearment term which strongly suggests the submissive position of the woman. However, Desola’s frequent reference to Serubawon, her father, as “Baami” (my father) (59; 60) highlights her closeness to Serubawon while simultaneously reinforcing the enormity of the latter’s contribution to her tragic end. Thus, verbal exchanges between male and female characters are deployed to portray the manipulation of “ways of speaking” to highlight gender relations. In their specific contextual applications, they portray the playwrights’ sensitivity to the use of language in the negotiation of power relations.

Gender and female assertiveness in adaugo Ezenwanebe situates her thematic exploration of gender relations in a modern-day setting, where the womanist idea of complementariness is interrogated on the basis of socio-economic challenges of the sexes in a contemporary setting. The assertiveness of the central character which pervades Ezenwanebe’s Adaugo is vividly portrayed in the outspoken nature of Adaugo as she expresses herself freely. She is educated and has a good job in the civil service. She loves her husband and wants him to survive his misfortune. She urges him to “go out and do something,” a suggestion which constantly draws the ire of Chuma who interprets this as an attempt by his wife to usurp his position as the sole provider of the family. ADAUGO:  Nkem, you are not going out today? CHUMA:  To where? ADAUGO:  What do you mean “to where?” CHUMA:  I mean, since you are now the one who

tells me when to go out,

you should also tell me where to go. (23) Adaugo’s strong-willed and confident disposition is, thus, a contradiction of the conventional image of the African woman as docile and submissive. She insists on keeping her job, against her husband’s suggestion that she should quit, a decision which eventually profits the family when Chuma’s business suffers a set-back: ADAUGO:  You

need to eat well now to avoid adding ulcer to the list of our misfortune. CHUMA:  I know oo. But where is the money to feed well? ADAUGO:  I will continue to try my best. Thank God I resisted the temptation to stop working. What would have become of us now? CHUMA:  I give you credit for being resolute on that issue. It works out fine now. (32)

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As the action unfolds however, this turns out to be the only acknowledgement Adaugo receives for her effort. When she brings up the issue of the payment of their children’s school expenses, Chuma’s male ego dominates the conversation: ADAUGO:  Mine,

the children are going back to school tomorrow. Do you know? CHUMA:  I know. The fact that I do not have money does not mean I have lost count of days. ADAUGO:  You know I did not mean that. CHUMA:  Then say what you mean. ADAUGO:  We need to buy a lot of things for them as usual. CHUMA:  What do you want me to do? ADAUGO:  I don’t know how we can do that. CHUMA:  (Heightened voice) And you are asking me? ADAUGO:  Of course; you’re my husband. CHUMA:  Well, you are now to husband me. (33) The playwright’s presentation of the gender conflict in the Chuma family has many sociological dimensions which contribute to the unfolding of the action in the play, and by implication, the unearthing of the cultural ethos that defines the differentiation between the sexes. Chuma, the self-effacing husband of Adaugo, is constantly immersed in two types of struggles: the struggle to overcome his present financial condition on the one hand; and on the other hand, the struggle to assert his leadership of the family despite his weakened financial condition. Chuma needs help but he would rather approach the problem his own way: with utmost pride and without recourse to any intervention by his wife. Consequently, any attempt to offer help or advise from Adaugo is rebuffed, and when Adaugo persists, the communication becomes heated and violent. The cultural stereotype within the Igbo worldview which confines women to the role of submissive and docile housewives strongly underlies Chuma’s misjudgement of his wife’s attempt to help. To this end, Wood observes: …A man who accepts the cultural view of masculinity may be unable to recognize, much less act on, strong emotions because they don’t fit within his stereotype of what it means to be a man. (132) This perhaps explains why Chuma’s constant struggle with his financial problems gradually robs him of his sanity and sadly, his humanity. Chuma’s decision to borrow money from a family friend to take care of the children’s school expenses leads to a serious argument with Adaugo which soon escalates into violence. Chuma physically attacks his wife while the children scamper to safety. The thematic concern of Adaugo comes across as the playwright’s advocacy for some form of complementariness in gender role definition at the family

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level, an idea which reverberates in the contemporary idealism of women writers in the quest to revisit traditional gender stereotypes. Situating the play in this sociological realm provides a window for the dramatic exploration of men and women’s social condition as a component of their socialisation process. This process is deeply underlined in this play by the Igbo traditional norms and beliefs which place the man as the financial provider of the family. Ezenwanebe’s preoccupation with the reversal of stereotypes and the reinforcement of complementary gender roles echoes throughout the dramatisation of the Chuma’s family conflict. She pushes the female assertiveness further by making Adaugo the centre of all the dramatic elements that hold the play together. Thus, the orchestration of the betrayal of Chuma by his friend, Eddy is unwittingly inspired by Adaugo’s telephone conversation with the “money lender.” Eddy’s lustful advances towards Adaugo are finally exposed through Adaugo’s clever recording of the argument she had with Eddy. The playwright, thus, reposes in Adaugo the singular role as the character who brings forth both the conflict and the resolution in the play. Moreover, Adaugo’s fervent rejection of Eddy’s lustful advances reinforces the protest about the perception of women as sex objects. This is another dimension to contemporary advocacy about the need to reconstruct societal misrepresentations of the female gender. Adaugo’s resentment of Eddy’s sexual overtures and her consistent assertiveness on this issue comes across as a direct manifestation of the writer’s advocacy posture. Furthermore, Chuma’s vituperative outburst when he calls his wife a prostitute succinctly highlights the presence of the male-oriented gender construct. Eddy’s malicious plot to destabilise Adaugo’s marriage is fueled by the fury of his scorned sexual advances.

Language and cultural practices in once upon an elephant and adaugo The two playwrights leave no doubt about the centrality of culture in the thematic development of their differing focal points in the two plays. Both plays take off on a poignant note of cultural recognition which sets the pace for the writers’ exposition of socio-political issues in each play. Once upon an elephant The play begins with vivid stage direction in Scene One, describing a traditional ritual in a Yoruba town. “Grove. Metallic clinking of gong; chants of Ogun in the background. Sitting on a stool, bare-chested is AJANAKU. Standing by his sides are two elderly men, ODEJIMI and OGUNDELE. SERUBAWON appears from within. He is also bare-chested, ties a red cloth to his waist. Performs some rites, and stops.” (13)

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The language immediately launches the reader into the cultural atmosphere of the setting with words depicting instruments of traditional practices in the Yoruba setting, like “grove,” “gong,” “chants,” “stool,” terms which are strongly indicative of the unfolding of a traditional event. Furthermore, the writer easily suggests that a ritual process is taking place, even before the word “ritual” is mentioned. The mention of “Ogun,” the Yoruba god of iron, sets the tone of spiritual awe, quickly followed by the visual description of the appearance of personages involved in the ritualistic process: “barechested is AJANAKU, standing by his sides are two elderly men, ties a red cloth to his waist, performs some rites.” It is crucial to note the significance of the repetition of “bare-chested” as a reinforcement of the ritual process. As the dialogue progresses, more details of the ritual are revealed, simultaneously highlighting the intricacy of the wrongful installation of AJANAKU as king, and its implications on the sanctity of the traditional institution in the community. The kingship ritual itself signifies cultural preservation and compliance with traditional norms of ascendancy in the Yoruba setting being depicted. However, the practice of kingship ritual, which is meant to usher in the new traditional ruler, becomes the point of contention and the harbinger of the communal conflict which ultimately engulfs the community. In this regard, the performance of “Olubori rites” on Ajanaku is presented as ominous and, thus, antithetical to the communal peace and tranquility it is supposed to bring to the people, as Ogundele and Ogunjimi lament the worrisome nature of the event in their query to Serubawon: ODEJIMI: Do

you know the meaning of what you are giving that young

man? OGUNDELE: 

Do you even know exactly what you are turning him into with these rituals? (14)

Indeed, cultural practices are at the core of the conflict which sets the new king, Ajanaku, on the war path, first, with his chiefs, Odejimi and Ogundele, and eventually with the rest of the community. A cultural taboo unfolds as the young prince, Ajanaku, is being crowned king even though his father, the king, is still alive! The forbidden act is heightened by the performance of the Olubori (meaning Conqueror) ritual. Thus, the expressions “what you are giving that young man?” and “what exactly you are turning him into” provide strong allusions to the conferment of “unbridled power,” and “excessive spiritual fortification” on the new king; a singular act by Serubawon which does not have the approval of the other chiefs. This suggests to the audience a prediction of something unpleasant in the unfolding leadership of the community. Serubawon dismisses his fellow chiefs’ concerns as “market rantings,” averring instead that “he brought gifts… you can pick yours from the hut inside the grove” (14). This is the writer’s way of introducing the theme of corruption; the “gifts” suggest bribes to silence the protest of Odejimi and Ogundele, who are bent on maintaining the sanctity of the kinship norms.

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A poignant means of communicating cultural norms in the drama is the deployment of figurative usages like idioms, proverbs and traditional “ways of speaking.” These are dominant in the living speeches of the characters who project the dramatic imagination of the playwright. Proverbs and idioms function significantly to establish the conflict and reinforce characters differing stances in the unfolding drama through powerful metaphors and imagery. For instance, Serubawon attempts to justify his support of Ajanaku’s wrongful ascension to the throne while his father yet lives when he avers that Oba Akinjobi’s “sun is about to set and another is preparing to emerge in its full glory” (16); “Akinjobi’s door closes soon;” “our culture knows no stagnation.” The virulent relationship between Ajanaku and his estranged stepmother, Iya–Agba, often erupts in hostile dialogue, which characteristically projects the playwright’s creative imagination: AJANAKU:  You

must call me by my rightful name. I am Ajanaku, conqueror of lands and forests! IYA AGBA:  Oh, true indeed. The lizard may resemble a crocodile, but they are certainly different. I thought you had changed. AJANAKU:  How can you know? Madness is the worst enemy of memory; you lose every sense of time, and roam the streets in mental darkness. Don’t you experience it daily? (36) An important aspect of Ajanaku’s distorted view of the cultural ethos of power and leadership is seen in the diabolical way he convinces himself, and indeed his collaborators, about his right to ascend the throne amidst more qualified siblings while the substantive king yet lives. Ajanaku’s belief in his own invincibility easily reflects in his adoption of the metaphorical title of “Ajanaku” – the elephant – as he boasts arrogantly: “Isn’t it obvious I am destined for this?” (37); “I am Ajanaku. It is from childhood that the elephant has been greater than the buffalo” (38). The contrast between the standpoint of Ajanaku and that of the oppressed and down-trodden in the play underscores the class differentiation occasioned by the political situation. While Ajanaku is consistent in his arrogance and hostility, the masses react to his antics in different ways. As Odekunle sits in lamentation with his friends – Dele, Lere and Yele – after Ajanaku deflowers Desola in the kolanut farm, the young men portray different perceptions of the power dynamic which landed Desola’s fiancé in this situation: DELE:  Somebody has to stop him. LERE:  And who might that be? Wherever

the jackal lurks, the chicken must give the place a wide berth. DELE:  What are you saying? LERE:  Exactly what I am saying. Caution! DELE:  When are we going to end this season of cowardice? Let us march to the place and confront him.

134  Mojisola Shodipe YELE:  The

baboon does not send an ultimatum to the leopard. Dele, slow down!. Whether a gun has a trigger or not, who would permit it to be pointed at his head? It is foolish to take foolish chances. (54)

It is equally important to note that the two leading protagonists, Ajanaku and Serubawon, are given metaphorical names which aptly project their negative characters. While Serubawon (meaning: “intimidate them!”) constantly applies threats and intimidation to enforce his evil plans; his friend, Ajanaku (the elephant), lives up to his name by trampling upon the helpless masses. The elephant is, thus, emblematic of the character’s oppressive and tyrannical disposition. He vagrantly exploits the vulnerability of his subjects and uses his position to enrich himself at their expense: ODEJIMI: ……. These AJANAKU: Who cares

people are in pain. if they all die! (Silence) We will help you, but you must bring the tributes first before any other consideration. That is our stand! (44).

Cultural practices which abound in Once Upon an Elephant not only affirm the norms of the traditional setting, they equally form significant components of the thematic concern of the play. The major conflict in the play is established when Serubawon single-handedly performs the Olubori (the Victorious One) rites on Prince Olaniyonu who prefers to be addressed by the title of “Ajanaku” – the elephant – an allusion to the perceived awesome power of his new position. But even this does not guarantee much “victory” for Ajanaku. To establish the king’s position, his medicine man, Serubawon, also stipulates the performance of the Jobele ritual, involving the deflowering of a virgin for propitiation at 90-days intervals. Ajanaku’s nemesis, however, seals the fate of Serubawon’s daughter, Desola, who tragically becomes the last virgin in the abominable series of kinship rituals. Serubawon had placed the Ijedodo charm on Desola’s virginity to dissuade her from losing it before marriage. When Ajanaku forcefully deflowers Desola, Ijedodo takes effect, and poor Desola falls into an incurable illness, the tragic implication of which is affirmed by Iya Agba: can you be so terribly wicked? Ijedodo has no cure. It feeds on the blood of the virgin to keep whoever has done it alive, while that virgin dies a slow and painful death. (74).

IYA AGBA:  How

Thus, Desola is the ultimate victim in the cycle of retributive justice. Serubawon’s ploy to dominate the kingship through the installation of his stooge, Ajanaku, back-fires with the crash of the despotic king. Serubawon loses on both sides and commits suicide. Furthermore, the depiction of the cultural implication of Ajanaku’s misdeeds is skillfully exhibited through an enthralling assemblage of virulent proverbs, didactic idioms and scathing metaphors, all encapsulated in the

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brutal verbal confrontations of Iya Agba, the ferocious gadfly, with the contentious king and his close ally, Serubawon. Haunting imageries like: “huge dirt on a white cloth.” “black pigeon in a poultry of well-bred fowls” and “goat in a horse’s stable” attest to Iya Agba’s contemptuous disregard for the king: IYA AGBA:  You

cannot run away from your past, Serubawon. The nose cannot become so big that it takes speech out of the mouth. Tell him he is nothing but a huge dirt on a white cloth; a black pigeon in a poultry of well-bred fowls. Tell this rascal here wearing the crown that he does not belong in this household. Tell him he was sired by a goat Tell this goat he has no place in a horse’s stable; tell him! (40)

The playwright’s deep immersion of Iya Agba’s character in the thematic concern of the play and the cultural ethos of the setting can also be gleaned in the constant recourse to the over-arching presence of Ogun, the Yoruba god of iron, who is presented as the patron god, a cultural arbiter and guiding spirit of the people. A dominant feature of this immersion in the Yoruba traditional belief system is observed in the prevalence of attributive naming of characters to reflect adherence to Ogun, god of iron. For instance, Ogundele (“Ogun arrives at (my) home”) reflects a strong personal affinity to the god of iron while names like Odejimi, Odekunle, Odegbami are typical names given in hunters’ families or lineage, another group of Ogun adherents. Farming and hunting are major occupations of the Yoruba people. The hunting tool, the gun, is a common symbol of Ogun. Farmers typically recognise the hoe as their defining tool and a symbol of Ogun. An important communal celebration such as the coronation of a new king requires surplus meat and this calls for a special hunting expedition by the guild of hunters. The playwright’s use of the exclamation: “May Ogun forbid!” (22, 58) is another index of the influence of Ogun in the world view of the people. Adaugo Ezenwanebe’s Adaugo is set in the modern ambience of the city. However, the foregrounding of Igbo traditional ethos against the surface level modernity is hardly missed in this play. Aspects of the Igbo cultural world view, habits and language attitudes attest to the playwright’s affirmation of the significance of the Igbo traditional norms as the defining background for the exploration of contemporary gender differentiation in the family setting. The play begins with a colourful child-naming ceremony which depicts the richness of Igbo traditional norms and ways of life by presenting a typical Igbo “ritual,” replete with the nuances of Igbo traditional setting as described in the stage direction: It is the height of a child’s naming ceremony. Different traditional dances are displayed. The singing and dancing subside and the ritual of child naming starts. (17)

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The playwright’s creative reference to the naming ceremony as a “ritual” comes across as a means of encapsulating all the normative traditional elements of the celebration and its peculiar kinship activities. These include the customary breaking of the kolanut and the traditional Igbo salutation for communal solidarity: “Cha! Cha! Cha! Kwenu!” to which the gathering responds: “Ise!” to the flurry of prayers and blessings for all. The importance of maintaining ethnic cultural norms in the urban livelihood of the Igbo kinsmen is significantly underscored in the welcome speech given by the Master of Ceremony: We thank all the dancers for taking us back to the village. I was afraid that township life might have carried away our common treasure for merrymaking, but you have proved me wrong That is how it should be. (17) Though the Chuma family and their friends live in the city, the significance of their Igbo traditional roots is effectively backgrounded in several references to cultural practices and their influence on the socio-economic definitions of the characters. The most poignant depiction of Igbo cultural practice is seen in Chuma’s uncompromising stance about his wife’s willingness to assist with the family finances. This is portrayed in Chuma’s deep-rooted belief in the traditional Igbo patrimonial norms which strongly entrench the position of the man as head of the family in all ramifications. Thus, in Chuma’s Igbo worldview, Adaugo’s attempt to complement the family income is unacceptable and is tantamount to contesting the headship of the home with her husband! It is interesting that Chuma’s educational attainments and acculturation to city life do not deter him from maintaining this patrimonial culture of his people, as he counters the argument of his friend, Uche: UCHE:  You

are a learned man. At least you have a first degree in Business Administration. From which of those books did you read that a woman is not supposed to support her family financially? CHUMA:  Our culture and tradition are there to guide us. Not everything is written down. After all, those books are written by white men whose interest is to impose a new way of life on us. (54) In the same vein, Chuma rejects the suggestion by his friend that he approaches his former apprentice for a loan when his business takes a downturn. The brief reference to the traditional apprenticeship system among the Igbos equally underscores the playwright’s depiction of an important aspect of the Igbo culture. Ezenwanebe’s ethnic and national affiliations are variously established and reinforced in the frequent uses of Igbo expressions, salutations and exclamatory statements throughout the play. The dialogic pattern in the salutations

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and their dramatic impact resonate in the playwright’s use of cultural exchanges such as: “Cha, Cha, Cha, Igbo Kwenu!” Response:“Yaa!” “Cha, Cha, Cha, Nigeria Kwenu!” Response:“Yaa!” “Cha, Cha, Cha, Lagos Kwenu!” Response:“Yaa!” “Cha, Cha, Cha, Umuagu Kwenu!” Response:“Yaa!” Furthermore, Ezenwanebe complements her unique Igbo expressiveness with diverse dialogic embellishments from the Nigerian multi-linguistic setting. Igbo-pidgin code-switching: “Di anyi keda? How you dey?” (26); “Hello…. Oga Uche…good morning sir.” (39); Igbo-English code-switching: “Tufiaa! You are a vicious man” (39); “Bia, EMEKA, NONSO, come and lock the door” (42); “Nna a, what do you think of the suggestion….” (52); “begging for money…. Hei, Ihe emee nam!” (48). Yoruba-English borrowing: “Full ke? Take it easy o” (22); “Oya, let’s go” (62); “And when customers come to buy goods nko?” (25). Thus, in bringing both the individual and ethnic identities of speakers to bear on interpersonal interactions, the playwright creates diverse speech patterns which invariably project the writer’s recognition of the sociolinguistic imperatives of communication in urban settings.

Conclusion My exploration of the sociolinguistic dimensions of the dramaturgy of Ademilua-Afolayan and Ezenwanebe in this chapter has revealed how the two playwrights have used language, gender roles and cultural practices to project new voices as their contribution to modern Nigerian drama. In projecting different strands of their individual dramatic perspectives, these two emerging playwrights present a remarkable contribution to the renewed voices of female dramatists of the 21 century. Through their unique visions for the reinforcement of strong female presence on the Nigerian, and indeed African literary landscape, the dramaturgy of Ademilua-Afolayan and Ezenwanebe provide fresh windows for the appreciation of new directions in the uses of literature to create awareness about socio-political issues. The artistic excursions of these two emerging playwrights into areas of literary attention hitherto believed to be the turf of their male counterparts establishes new

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vistas for the exploration of the impact of female writers in contemporary societal evolution. The varied ethnographic and sociolinguistic tools with which these female playwrights have established their individual creative imaginations provide fresh avenues for the understanding of the dynamics of contemporary societal challenges. More importantly, these playwrights have deployed their individual experiences towards a redefinition of global concepts about the human condition and the writer’s unique role in harnessing the literary frontiers which both establish and sustain these discourses.

Works cited Ademilua-Afolayan, B. Once Upon an Elephant. Ibadan: Kraft Books Limited. 2015. Print. Austin, J. How to do Things with Words. Oxford: Oxford University Press. 1962. Print. Cameron, D. Feminism and Linguistic Theory. London: Macmillan.1985. Print. Cameron D. ‘Introduction: why is language a feminist issue?’ in Cameron, Deborah (eds.) The Feminist Critique of Language: A Reader. London: Routledge. 1990. Print. Cameron, D. and J. Coates. ‘Some problems in the sociolinguistic explanation of sex differences’, in Coates, Jennifer and Cameron, Deborah (eds.) Women in their Speech Communities. London: Longman.1989. Print. Chambers, J.K. Sociolinguistic Theory: Linguistic Variation and its Social Significance. Oxford: Blackwell.1995. Print. Coates, J. Men, Women and Language. (Second Edition). London and New York: Longman. 1992. Print. Coulmas, F. (Ed.). A Handbook of Sociolinguistics. Oxford: Blackwell. 1997. Print. Collins, P.H. ‘Learning from the outsider within’, Social Problems, Vol. 33, 1986. 514–532. Drewal, M.T. Yoruba Ritual: Performers, Play, Agency. Bloomington & Indianapolis: Indiana University Press. 1992. Print. Ezenwanebe, O. Adaugo. Ibadan: Kraft Books Limited. 2011. Print. Fairclough, N. Analysing Discourse: Textual Analysis for Social Research. London: Routledge. 2003. Print. Farinde, R.O. ‘Issues in Gender and Discourse’, in Akin Odebunmi, Arua E. Arua and Sailal Arimi (eds.) Language, Gender and Politics – A Festschrift for Yisa Kehinde Yusuf. Lagos: Concept Publications. 2009. 23–32. Garfinkel, H. Studies in Ethno-methodology. Englewoods Cliffs, New Jersey: PrenticeHall. 1967. Print. Griffiths, P. An Introduction to English Semantics and Pragmatics. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press. 2006. Harding. S. Whose Science? Whose Knowledge? Thinking from women’s lives. Ithaca: Cornell University Press. 1991. Print. Hudson-Weems, C. Africana Womanism: Reclaiming Ourselves. Boston, MA: Bedford Publishing. 1998. Print. Hudson-Weems, C. ‘Africana Womanism: An Overview’, in Alridge, Delores P. (ed.) Out of the Revolution: The Development of Africana Studies. Maryland, USA: Lexington Books. 2000. 205–217. Hudson-Weems, C. ‘Africana Womanism: The Flip Side of a Coin’, Western Journal of Black Studies, Vol. 25, Issue 3. 2001 Hudson-Weems, C. Africana Womanism Literary Theory. Trenton: Africa World Press. 2004. Print.

Language, gender and cultural practices 139 Jegede, O. ‘Countering Misrepresentation of Women in Fiction: A Reading of The Beggars’ Strike and The Triumph of the water Lily.’ In Language, Gender and Politics – A Festschrift for Yisa Kehinde Yusuf. Akin Odebunmi, Arua E. Arua and Sailal Arimi (eds.) Lagos: Concept Publications. 2009. 251–261. Labov, W. Sociolinguistic Patterns. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press. 1972. Print. Macaulay, R.K.S. Talk That Counts: Age, Gender, and Social Class Differences in Discourses. Oxford: Oxford University Press. 2004. Print. Mead, G. H. Mind, Self and Society. Chicago, Illinois: University of Chicago Press. 1934. Print. Okonjo-Ogunyemi, C. Womanism: The Dynamics of the Contemporary Black Female Novel in English. University of Chicago Press. 1985. Print. Perkins, K.A (ed.) African Women Playwrights. Urbana and Chicago: University of Illinois Press. 2009. Print. Ruddick, S. Maternal Thinking: Towards a Politics of Peace.Boston, MA: Beacon Press. 1989. Saville-Troike, M. The Ethnography of Communication: An Introduction. Wiley-Blackwell. 2008. (3rd Edition). Print. Searle, J.A. Classification of illocutionary acts. Language in Society. Vol. 5. 1976. 1–23. Trudgill, P. Applications of Sociolinguistics. London: Academic Press. 1984. Print. Walker, A. In Search of Our Mothers’ Gardens: Womanist Prose. London: Phoenix. 1983/2005. Wood, J.T. Gendered Lives: Communication, Gender and Culture. Belmont, California: Wadsworth Publishing Company. 1993. Print. Wood J.T. and L.F. Lenze. ‘Gender and the development of self: Inclusive pedagogy in interpersonal communication’, Women’s Studies in Communication, Vol. 14, 1991. 1–23. Yerima, A. Basic Techniques in Playwriting, Ibadan: Kraft Books Ltd. 2003. Print.

10 Misandry and conspiracy of silence in Zainabu Jallo’s and Tosin Tume’s plays Adekunle M. Adeyemi

Introduction This chapter examines the feminist construct that yokes the dramatic preoccupations of Zainabu Jallo and Tosin Tume in their respective plays, Onions Make Us Cry and Not That Woman, against the backdrop of deepseated patriarchal inhibitions which they believe have continually suppressed and pushed the female gender to the precipice. Unlike an earlier generation of female writers, which features eminent literary figures like Zulu Sofola, Mabel Segun, Flora Nwapa and a host of others, who wrote more for children and explored a myriad of family issues, Zainabu Jallo and Tosin Tume, like many of their contemporaries, have demonstrated an unflinching resolve to expose the many acts of injustice arising from physical, psychological, emotional, financial and sexual violence that women are subjected to in their day-to-day engagements with the menfolk. In doing this, they seek to establish and propagate a template for an acceptable mode of relationship between both sexes. To the two writers, the strict patriarchal arrangement in Nigeria that arrogates the power of a lord and master to the man and allows him to almost determine the fate of a woman, especially in a marital union, should have been forgotten in the dustbin of history. In analysing the themes of both plays, I attempt to extrapolate the concerns of the playwrights from their larger literary world and find out whether men should really and solely be pilloried for the misadventures suffered by women in their marriages.

Zainabu Jallo Unlike a horde of other unapologetic feminist writers that dot the literary landscape, Jallo has never seen herself as a feminist. However, many playwrights probe into the inner recesses of the society to bring out the good and the bad, the profane and the sacred, the high and the low in order to ensure societal equilibrium. They are seen as the “ears” and “eyes” of the society. As the conscience of the world they live in, playwrights dig up their materials

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from the society and present a processed product back to that society; hence, the people, as audience, become the judges of the issues raised in the text. However, a careful reading of Onions Make Us Cry, Jallo’s unarguably flagship play, reveals a strong feminist bias. Nonetheless, Jallo is a skilful playwright who weaves conversational idiom with poetic precision. Her unusual style of presentation makes her message more strident and compels more critical discourse. Zainabu Jallo’s Onions Make Us Cry was first drafted at The Royal Court Theatre London in August 2008, where she was an International Playwright in residence. Onions Make Us Cry has won the National Theatre Studio London Africa Project award and was shortlisted for the NLNG literary prize, 2010. The play has been performed in the United Kingdom, New York, Sweden and Lagos. Apart from Onions Make Us Cry, Jallo has published Saraya Dangana (2008) and Holy Night (2012). Other books by the same author are These Feelings, Caught in The Blank, My Sultan Is a Rock Star, The Revolutionary Carrot and White Elephants. She also has a collection of open style poetry, Some of the People I Am. Jallo is a Fellow of the Sundance Institute, Chateau Lavigny, writers Ledig-Rowohlt Foundation House, Laussane, Switzerland, Instituto Volusiano of Artes, Brasil and a Fellow of the Royal Society of Arts. Her modest achievements within a short period of literary creation, her constant engagements with the issues that make or mar the relationships between the male and the female in the society, her message and style, and most importantly, her speak-up advocacy which condemns women’s attitude of enduring marital pains and keeping quiet, have all made Jallo an imperative choice for the subject of this chapter. Onions make us cry Published by AuthorHouse in 2009, Onions Make Us Cry is a one-act, eight situations tragic exposition of the marital life of the major character in the play named Malinda Jandayi. The setting is the first room in Ward Six of an unnamed psychiatric hospital somewhere in Nigeria. Malinda is a 36-year old patient with post-traumatic stress disorder awaiting trial for homicide. She had killed her politician husband during the last of their day-to-day squabbles. Another prominent character in the play is Lola Gambari, a clinical psychologist, whose duty is to engage inmates in “psychotherapeutic” talks. Through the discussions by, and sometimes outbursts from these two characters, Jallo is able to reveal the odds, difficulties and domestic violence that most women go through in their respective abusive marriages and which lead to Malinda’s admission into the psychiatric hospital. The doctors run many tests on the patient and none of them shows any positive result of a psychotic disorder but she is still being kept in the hospital from where she will be moved to court for trial.

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Malinda began her love journey on a smooth affectionate scale when her path crossed that of a loving young man called Daniel Jandayi at a club. Here is what she says about the beginning: Malinda: (Looking out dreamily) if I I’m asked, “who really are you Malinda?” I should like to say, “I am what I want to be.” Can’t be too sure now … see? Fate’s arrows got me wounded badly. Shame. In club Havana, we met. Between silly giggles and a few drinks; the stage was set. Him a post grad student, me, an aspiring painter. Found out we had a shared love for Afrobeat. Helped turn up the heat. We’d both visit the shrine inhaling prohibited smoke. Like peas in a pod, we were just fine. Like an heir and heiress, we would dine on exotic tables not minding if we went broke. Oh DJ would fly us from Lagos to Kano just to watch the Pillars play. If I were to keep any memories, they would be of these. Miserably, the black clouds would not allow me. You know, Lola dear, “twas an uncanny transformation. Before Zulei, he was a spotless lamb. After the maternity ward, he became the devil’s assistant.” ( Jallo 29) It is evident that Malinda and Daniel were lovebirds, almost inseparable when their affair started as soon as they met at the Club Havana. Daniel was, without doubt, a caring and loving gentleman who would do the unthinkable, including emptying his account to satisfy his woman. Malinda testifies to this when she says, “We would dine on exotic tables not minding if we went broke” (29). He would arrange a flight for himself and Malinda from Lagos to Kano just to watch a football match. He treated her like a queen and made amends whenever he noticed that he had done anything to hurt her. Although their union was subsequently marked by incessant frictions, where, in some instances, she was callously beaten and battered, Malinda confirms that her husband is sometimes overtaken by emotion and remorse when he sees her agonising. In one of her reminiscences, she says: Malinda: My fondest memory … He hurled me into the kitchen cabinet. Had a cut here (above her left eyebrow) with the speed of a cheetah, he got the first aid box. In his eyes there were tears … real tears … I’d never seen him cry … ever. I cried with him, we sat on the kitchen floor for hours … holding unto each other like cold orphans. Don’t know why he cried … I cried only just because he cried. I loved him more. Here was DJ the lamb. ( Jallo 47) Malinda herself seems to be in a quandary and cannot say precisely what is responsible for the sudden transformation of Daniel from the “lamb” he used to be to a beast, the “devil’s assistant” as she puts it. She thinks of two things that may be responsible for her husband’s dramatic change towards her. First, it may be the birth of their first child because she noticed the

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change during this period; and second, it may be the inability of Daniel (DJ as she calls him) to make anything meaningful out of politics. She says, “Can’t tell if it was the first child that unveiled a beast, so wild. Then came the politics. Brought nothing but theatrics… DJ’s venom spread faster than I could control…” ( Jallo 30). The situation continues to degenerate until the day Daniel charges at her in a fit of anger and, in a reflexive defence, she grabs a mortar and smashes his nape. At that point, she knows that either of them will be “spiritually accompanied out of the sphere by some seraphic beings … or the dark one with evil horns” ( Jallo 25). Malinda also confirms her involuntary action during one of her sessions with Lola when she says, “You pretty much said it all. Pestle met with nape in utmost antagonism … unimaginable reflex ever” ( Jallo 31). In spite of the untoward experiences that give birth to indignation in women, Jallo (44) believes that they prefer to discuss their predicament with nobody, and according to Malinda, if anyone chooses to know why women cry, they only tell them, “Onions, it is the onions that make us weep so.” In all of this, however, the author cleverly refuses to give the deceased any chance to state his side of the story by making him die before the commencement of the play. Affirming this position, Egwuda-Ugbeda and Ezeh (75) state: “The playwright succeeds in telling a one-sided story. Husband to the aggrieved wife is not given any little opportunity to air his views… Perhaps, the playwright feels that men are good shock absorbers, which whatever their wives do to them are inconsequential to their psychological makeup.” Nonetheless, there is ample evidence in the play to suggest that the brutality and ignominy that Malinda suffers in her marriage lead her to the killing of her husband, although there may not be a sufficient reason to justify the taking of another person’s life. She believes in keeping her marriage and raising her children in her matrimonial home despite all odds. She endures all the battering because of the undying love she has for her husband. Most times she trudges on with head bumps, broken tooth, black eye, cracked ribs and bruised limbs but she keeps everything to her chest and hopes that things will take a better turn someday because she detests washing her dirty linen in the open. She does all this, according to Chigbu et al (140), “because she cares so much about saving face, about what others will say concerning her marriage, than she does her own existential survival.” In other words, just as it applies to many women, Malinda’s marriage means the whole world to her and she does everything possible to protect the marriage even at her own peril. As observed earlier, Malinda’s and Lola’s ordeals serve as a microcosm of the larger inhumanity suffered by the female gender. Ellen, a third character that we never see, who occupies the next room to Malinda’s in the medical facility, is another case of relationship fiasco that women endure and which, in some instances, leads to mental imbalance. At the inception of their encounter, Lola finds Malinda too frigid and uncooperative in the former’s attempts to discharge her duty as a caregiver. However, an important feature

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that will culminate in the resolution of the conflict created by the author is revealed in the reversal of roles that is subsequently established between the inmate and the caregiver. Lola has been married to Ali Gambari for two years without a child. All her previous pregnancies have been aborted due to constant beatings by Ali, but she tries furtively to hide her pains and be as professional as she can. Malinda’s personal experiences in domestic violence are, however, too overwhelming for her to be deceived by Lola’s subterfuge. In one of their encounters, Lola appears in Malinda’s room with a bumpy head and tries to conceal the cause of her protruding head by telling a lie but Malinda, from experience, immediately knows that Lola is hiding the truth from her. She tries to suggest to Lola that she actually knows the cause of the bump on her head. “How is Ali Gambari?…is he… ( Jallo 20) Malinda probably wants to link Ali with the bump on Lola’s head but the latter quickly shouts her down just because she does not want her marital issues to become a subject for public discussion. The conversation between the two women shows that as much as Malinda tries to open a discussion on the trauma she has noticed in Lola, the latter brings up a different subject to silence Malinda or divert attention away from her situation. She probably feels it is better to keep whatever transpires in her matrimony to herself and continue to endure and probably pray until her situation improves. If for any reason she must share her marital pains with someone, Malinda will definitely not be the right person because of the patient-caregiver relationship that exists between them. She prefers to keep whatever she goes through in her matrimony a secret. However, an unrelenting Malinda, in Situation Four of the play, tells Lola part of her own story and from that point, both women become united as a result of shared brutal marital experiences. On this, Nnanna (148) notes: The intensity of this emotional communication between Malinda and Lola is sustained till the end of the play. As the two bid each other farewell they find strength in each other and any trace of their erstwhile patient-caregiver relationship is completely obliterated. We only see two women who are glad to have met each other and shared something emotionally valuable. Eventually, Lola is compelled to divulge her secret pains to Malinda and we see the caregiver become the patient and vice versa. After being encouraged to speak up and getting sufficient attention from Malinda, Lola finally discloses her resolve to leave her husband and put the abusive marriage behind her. Thus, as critical and dicey as the case of Malinda is, despite the possibility that she may earn a life sentence for her offence, considering also the soul-wrenching thought that she may not see or enjoy again the company of her loving children, whom she has suffered for all her life, she still manages to extricate a fellow suffering woman “out of a life-threatening relationship,” (Igwe 22) as Igwe captures it.

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Tosin Tume Tosin Kooshima Tume teaches at the Theatre and Media Arts Department of the Federal University Oye-Ekiti, Ekiti State, Nigeria. She holds a Ph.D. in Performing Arts from the University of Ilorin. Tume is a playwright, director, choreographer, actor, dancer, singer and a budding theatre scholar. With an experience spanning over fifteen years, she has participated in several theatrical productions, festivals, carnivals and conferences within and outside the shores of Nigeria. She has produced a number of published and unpublished plays and dance scripts. Her works include The Pact (2013), Tribal Marks (2014), Mojogbayi (2015), Gimbiya, The Future is Now, Iyefemigha, Arodan, Roll Out the Drums, Blood on My Hands, Hello, Nowhere, and Man Pikin. Her play, The Pact, won the first place at the NYSC Annual Cultural Festival in Bauchi, 2009. Also, her play entitled Sweet Poison was among the selected scripts for the 2015 ASSITEJ SA New Writing for Young Audiences in Africa programme, which was run in partnership with The Kennedy Centre’s New Visions New Voices project in Washington DC, United States, and The Soweto Theatre in Guateng, South Africa. Her play Not That Woman was selected as the only Nigerian entry for staging at the Women Playwrights International Conference, Chile in 2018. Tume’s concern for women and the suffering they go through in and outside of marriage, her strident speak-up campaign, which she believes is a vital antidote to the perennial cases of spousal abuse in the society, are compelling factors for the choice of her play for this chapter. Not that woman Like Onions Make Us Cry, Not That Woman is also a didactic one-act play that chronicles a myriad of life-threatening family or marital circumstances that the girl-child and women in Nigeria have found themselves. The patriarchal institution that has taken a deep root in the society makes it an uphill task for the woman to find her voice and shake off the shackles of oppression, more so, as the cultural configuration within which the man and the woman relate presupposes that the woman is “to be seen and not to be heard.” The setting of the play is a sparsely furnished office of the Succour for Women Refuge (SWR), a non-governmental organisation established by Madam B, to assist women who are going through any form of abuse or experiencing domestic violence, especially in their marriages. Through the events that shaped the lives of five female characters, the playwright dramatises the travails of women before and in marriage and reasons that the female gender must be prepared and encouraged to jettison the conspiracy of silence that has been a major albatross to their wellbeing and speak up when they find themselves in any abusive relationship so that they may attract help. The play opens on a mournful note where we see Folake, Nkechi and Zainab ruing the death of Madam B, their benefactor, and considering the

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steps to take to make sure that the culprit, Madam B’s husband, is brought to book. While they are on this, they take turns to reminisce on and explain how each of them came to the fold of the SWR. Folake’s parents were so poor; they could not afford to keep her and her younger brother in school at the same time, hence she had to go and live with an uncle who graciously agreed to take care of her education, but with a saddening cost. He turned her into a sex slave and after graduation, he seized her certificate and made her to serve in his shop without a pay. The uncle apparently took advantage of the young girl and engaged in the continuous incestuous act because of her vulnerability and the parlous economic condition of her parents. This is also a commentary on the evils of sending a female child to live with a family member. Luckily, Madam B came to Folake’s rescue by paying every dime that her uncle had spent on her education and that was how she became a member of the SWR. Nkechi’s story appears more tragic. She had an indigent drunkard as a father. Besides being “glued to the bottle,” her father was an unrepentant wife-batterer. Indeed, he allegedly beat his wife to her grave. After the ignominious death of Nkechi’s mother, her father directed his libido to her and began to abuse her sexually. The incestuous act continued until he finally married off the young Nkechi to one of his drinking goons. The husband subjected Nkechi to constant beatings and other forms of maltreatment. After a bout of pummelling one day, the young girl was presumed dead until a passer-by, Madam Peace, came to her rescue by taking her to the hospital but she never knew she was moving “from frying pan to fire.” Madam Peace operated a baby factory, where vulnerable young girls were camped for the purpose of producing children that would be sold to needy couples. She subsequently took Nkechi to the camp and handed her over to Mandigo, a resident serial impregnator, hired to sleep with the girls until they become pregnant. After an initial resistance that was subdued, Nkechi became a member of the house and had a baby boy that was sold out without her knowledge. She was paid seventy thousand nairas for her effort. However, she was rescued from the camp by Madam B, who acted on a tip-off and got security men to raid the baby factory. Nkechi was subsequently hospitalised and later diagnosed with HIV. Zainab’s case is an exemplification of the child marriage that is pervasive in the Northern part of Nigeria. She was 11 years old when her father married her off to a 63-year old man, who already had a number of wives. She became pregnant at such an impressionable age. When she was due for delivery, she could not deliver the baby by herself hence, she was moved between traditional birth attendants and native doctors. On the 15th day of her labour, a stick was thrust into her vagina to remove a dead foetus, in the process, she suffered internal injury which made her to drop urine and faeces uncontrollably. Her husband’s other wives urged the man to send Zainab away since she had become an irritant as flies trailed her everywhere. He did. It was Madam B who later found Zainab and took her to the hospital where she was

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diagnosed with an extreme case of VVF. “Her urethra, bladder and vaginal wall were completely eroded. Over four years, she had to undergo twenty repair operations to rehabilitate her.” (Tume 24–25) Joyce is a friend to the members of the SWR. She is heavily pregnant for an irresponsible and adulterous husband, Larry, after four children. She keeps coming to her friends for an assistance to pay her children’s school fees despite the fact that her husband is a businessman. Larry forbids her from interacting with any friend or going out of their matrimonial home. In fact, she was forced to abandon her legal practice in order to remain a full housewife. Each time she secretly visits her friends at the SWR, she goes back home to face an unfettered beating. Her friends keep advising her to do something before her husband kills her but she is always quick to defend Larry and sometimes sees herself as deserving of the ill-treatment she gets because she “provokes him a lot” and thinks probably beating her “is just his own way of expressing love.” Joyce also holds onto spirituality as she emphasises the fact that her pastor has always advised her to “intensify” her “prayer and fasting.” (Tume 45) Folake, however, feels otherwise. It is her opinion that Larry got Joyce to abandon her “thriving” law practice “for his own selfish interests” (Tume 45). It is the position of the playwright, rightly too, that religious dogmatism plays a crucial role in ensuring women’s pliability and endurance when they find themselves in an abusive marital union. Many women prefer to open up to their pastors and go with whatever the latter ask them to do, and whatever the circumstance, religious leaders are quite circumspect in advising a woman to leave her husband. Thus, the woman prays and fasts for the husband to turn a better leaf, exercises that are most times futile. Although Larry is not a visible character in the play, we are told through the women’s conversation that he is having an affair with his secretary, whom he organises a lavish birthday party for while he keeps telling his wife that he does not have the money to pay his children’s school fees. With a husband that displays such level of irresponsibility and insensitivity, Joyce still says of their marriage: “No way! What will people say? You do know that we are a model couple, openly admired by our church members. I cannot afford for it to become public knowledge that I have marital problems. I can’t expose myself in that manner” (Tume 47). Larry keeps on battering his pregnant wife until the day she eavesdrops on his telephone conversation with his secretary, where he tells the unnamed secretary how he has been gradually poisoning his wife and how he plans to elope with the secretary to Ghana and marry her there after the death of his wife. This revelation from the “horse’s mouth” greatly unsettles Nkechi. She quickly packs a few things into a bag and flees from the house with a resolution to end the marriage. To her at that point, it is better to live and continue to be the mother of her children than to die for a one-sided love. This is an indication that beyond any proportion of love most women profess for or show their husbands, the wellbeing and grooming of their children take precedence in their scheme of affection and they will rather abandon any

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man who works towards preventing them from achieving this aim than live with such a husband. Towards the end of the play, Madam B, who is believed to have died, makes a frightening appearance at the SWR office to the consternation of all the other women except Folake, who has been part of a plan by doctors and security agents to make everyone believe that the philanthropist is dead so that her husband, the supposed killer, will not come after her again. It is an irony that what Madam B stands and fights for in the society is exactly what she is going through in her own marriage too. Thus, according to the playwright, no woman is exempted from spousal abuse. She is her husband’s punching bag and anytime she appears in the office with bruises, she always has a lie to tell her colleagues in order to protect her marriage and prevent the horrible comments that people may throw at her. The playwright’s position here is that a woman’s status in the society does not prevent her from being abused by her husband; men’s violence against women does not respect or dignify anyone. Women in high places have their own share of the socio-cultural, economic and psychological imbalances thrown up by patriarchy. The position here is supported by Tyson (87), where she posits: Whenever patriarchy wants to undermine a behaviour, it portrays that behaviour as feminine. It is important to note, too, that the patriarchal concept of femininity – which is linked to frailty, modesty, and timidity – disempowers women in the real world: it is not feminine to succeed in business, to be extremely intelligent, to earn big bucks, to have strong opinions, to have a healthy appetite (for anything), or to assert one’s rights. Although there are still relics of discrimination against and suppression of women in the Nigerian society, especially in communities where strict adherence to culture is non-negotiable (for instance, women have no right to inheritance in some parts of eastern Nigeria), education and civic enlightenment are bridging the gap between the male and the female in terms of the heights a woman can attain. The fact that there are successful businesswomen, lawyers, doctors and other professionals in most societies partially negates the foregoing claim by Tyson. The play concludes with a strong plea to women in abusive relationships or circumstances to always speak up before it is too late. It also suggests that it is not a must for women to remain in a marital union where spousal impertinence, insensitivity, superiority and indignity are rife. The insidious role played by religious and cultural docility is equally condemnable as many women continue to suffer in their marriages by holding to the tenets of religion and culture which forbid them from either leaving their matrimonial homes for whatever reason or relating their harrowing experiences to a third party.

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Comparative analysis of Onions Make us Cry and Not That Woman The tenor and method of Jallo’s and Tume’s creative discourses in both plays suggest a striking hatred for or an aversion to everything the man stands for in the life of a woman. That is one major reason, perhaps, for the deliberate dearth of visible or active male characters in the plays and this will suggest that the playwrights are creating a world where the presence and relevance of the male are thrown into insignificance in the lives of the female gender. Apart from the conjugal hatred that men suffer generally as a result of the gross irresponsibility being displayed by a handful of them, the ingrain conspiracy of silence that women employ to deal with the horrible situation they find themselves as a result of marital violence is the focus of this chapter. Besides, misandry is an area that has enjoyed little or no critical consideration as far as both plays are concerned. Throughout the plays, we are confronted with devilish, malevolent, emotionless men, condemned for their alleged bestial deeds without an opportunity to personally defend themselves. A realistic terrestrial experience wouldn’t have shown a society blessed with solely cruel men whose only mission is to see or put their spouses in pain. The female characters are, however, angelic, they hardly come across as ever offending their men, although Tume differs a bit from Jallo on this. This seeming one-sided view probably prompted Egwuda-Ugbeda and Ezeh (75) to reason that “Zainabu creatively and intellectually agrees to men’s superiority over women, hence she fails to bring out the effect of women’s debacle, traumatic and catastrophic impact on men from women.” Jallo sees domestic violence as a product of men’s callousness and irresponsibility. She believes that women should and must be able to put their conspiracy of silence in the face of the bestialities they suffer from men behind them and speak up to attract help before the die is cast. Tume equally aligns with this position but differs from Jallo on those really responsible for the violence against women. It is her strong opinion that women don’t like one another and their actions or inactions equally contribute to the travails of the female gender. Moreover, both authors see women in marriage as an endangered species and believe that matrimony should not be a do-or-die affair. Once a woman’s life is threatened physically, emotionally, psychologically, sexually and economically, she should know the appropriate time to quit before either of the sexes in the union does something that will cause a life-long regret or death. Tume does not seem to believe in the institution of marriage any longer as three of the five major female characters in her play remain unmarried despite their mature ages. At the close of the play, the individual life-threatening experiences of the remaining two women have made them to leave their husbands, with a strong resolve to keep away from their marriages forever. It is noteworthy that while Jallo is from the Northern part of Nigeria, Tume is from the South. Interestingly, however, Tume’s play presents a more

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national outlook, covering the major ethnic configurations in the country. Folake as a character, represents the West, Nkechi stands for the East, Zainab is from the North and Joyce from the South/South. More importantly, Zainab’s pathetic case is a representation of the pervasive but condemnable child marriage ordeals that the girl-child is harmfully exposed to in the North. Both playwrights, however, seek a more egalitarian society where the basic principles of feminism like equality, choice and care are upheld by every stakeholder so that the female gender will drop the toga of second-class citizens. They advocate that women should not shy away from telling somebody, especially someone that can help them out, when they find themselves in an abusive, life-threatening relationship. That is why Malinda in Onions Make Us Cry regrets the fact that she has kept quiet for too long and her bottled-up anger resulted in the inadvertent killing of her husband. To prevent Lola from leading herself into a similar situation, she becomes more determined, almost desperate to make her voice out her pains as a result of the marital woes she suffers. She recollects the fact that apart from outsiders, she did not allow her own children to know or think that something was ever wrong between her and Daniel, her husband. If the children had any reason to suspect anything, she would quickly tell them that their father really love them. All of this suggests that Malinda lived a fake matrimonial life all through and now that she has realised her mistakes, she is ready to do everything possible to make sure that other women do not fall into the same pit of regret like she has done. In the same vein, Tume, in Not That Woman, advocates for the creation of more women bodies that can take up the cases of violence against women. That is why in the play we see a women group, Succour for Women Refuge, which is devoted to extricating women from their web of suffering either in marriage or outside of it. It is instructive that all the women in the group have suffered or are suffering varying degrees of cruelty orchestrated by men, and through the activism of the body they become liberated although their liberation might have come with a major sacrifice, that is not the focus of this article. Misandry is a dislike of, derision for, or deep-rooted bias against men. It is the hatred for the male gender. Whether in its disguised or outright form, the feminist construct in both plays examined in this chapter exudes a measure of hatred towards the male gender. That is why Daniel Jandayi, Malinda’s husband, despite his centrality to the play, Onions Make Us Cry, will not be dignified with a physical appearance throughout the text and neither is he availed of the opportunity to explain his actions or inactions. Ali Gambari, Lola’s husband suffers the same fate. The attorney, Ezekiel Bajomo, is the only male character seen and heard in the play. His engagement is, however, too passive and bereft of any palpable assistance towards the exoneration and possible acquittal of Malinda in court. The world of the play is, therefore, suggestive of the uselessness of the male gender in the life of the female and this reality has translated to the hatred against men in extreme cases of matrimonial

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disharmony. The situation is breeding a form of all-female groups or unions, where women find solace in and give the love meant for the opposite sex to other women like themselves. That transfer of love is seen in Malinda and Lola, whose argumentative relationship graduates into an affectionate bond towards the end of the play. Nnanna (149) puts it this way, “As a result of their shared unpleasant relationship experiences… the emotional attachment between Malinda and Lola may have assumed an erotic dimension.” Relatedly, and from a legal perspective, Upchurch (657–660), in a review of Legalising Misandry: From Public Shame to Systemic Discrimination Against Men, quotes Paul Nathanson and Catherine Young as saying, “‘Ideological feminism’ has perpetuated the hatred of men and this hatred has seeped into and shaped modern legal frameworks.” It is not in doubt that some women have unpleasant marital experiences, but it will be an aberration to assume that all women share this ugly experience and by implication, all men are diabolically irresponsible. Tume (56) shows this in the following conversation between Folake and Nkechi towards the end of Not That Woman: NKECHI:  And

do you really blame them? What help can they get in a patriarchal society like ours where men hold all the cards? FOLAKE:  That is not completely true. The people who helped me out with Madam B’s case are all men. There are still some good men out there… The proportion of hatred towards the men in Tume’s Not That Woman is, however, realistically moderated even though there is no visible male character in the play. We never get to see all the men in the lives of the women that populate the play but we are inundated with their bestial deeds as told by the women. It is the view of this writer that this is one of the weaknesses of the feminist slant prevalent in most literary creations of this nature by female African writers, who x-ray the frosty relationships between men and women in marriages. Perhaps their views would be more strident and appreciated if they de-emphasise the exclusion of male characters and allow men to speak for themselves. However, it is commendable for Tume to hold the view that men should not be absolutely blamed for the patriarchal structure that breeds beasts among men and that women are, indeed, collaborators and executors of the whole scheme. This is seen in Not That Woman, where Larry’s mother never sees anything wrong in her son’s cruelty towards his wife ( Joyce) and Joyce’s mother considers it an abomination to advise her daughter to leave her husband even if and when she faces a life-threatening situation. This is from Larry’s mother to her daughter-in-law: (In an affected accent.) Joyce, I am highly disappointed in you…Have you no shame? What has my son done that no man has never done before? Is he the first man to engage in little indiscretions? And you go about broadcasting to the entire world that he is cheating on you?… (Tume 33)

NKECHI  (AS LARRY’S MOTHER):

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Likewise, here is the position of Joyce’s mother: (Demurely.) Joyce my dear daughter, a woman’s place is with her husband. Let me tell you, a woman without a man is nothing. See, men only beat the women they love. You have to stay in your husband’s house and endure the beating (Tume 34)

NKECHI  (AS JOYCE’S MOTHER):

The above shows that both mothers-in-law are part of the reprehensible system that entrenches male chauvinistic behavioural patterns towards women as the playwright rightfully posits in Not That Woman. Besides, Tume concludes that women are the worst enemies of themselves. This she exemplifies by pointing out the obvious fact that it is a woman that trains and brings up the male-child who becomes a wife-beater; it is the same woman that trains the girl-child to be patient and submissive in marriage. The following conversation by the ladies is instructive: FOLAKE: 

Visualise this; women raise their daughters to be good wives and to nurture male privilege. On the other hand, the same women raise their sons to act like “men” and to lord it over their women… ZAINAB:  Folake is making a valid point. Do you realise that for every woe that befalls a woman, another woman is involved, directly or indirectly? MADAM B:  Exactly. Who raises the wife-beaters? Who raises the female child to defer to every male in her life? Who makes sure the girl-child knows how to cook, wash, clean the house, and care for her brothers, while the boy-child is encouraged to go play football, watch action movies, and generally idle away? (Tume 57) The foregoing is a commentary on the complicity of women in the hardship they face in matrimonies, in particular, and in the discrimination they are exposed to, in general, in their day-to-day dealings with the menfolk. It is an explicit admission that men should not be exclusively pilloried for the woes of women. The implication of this is that women will have to redefine their roles in the actualisation of the patriarchal demands of the society. It is commendable that both authors endorse the speak-up advocacy because without an effective communication, there will be chaos in the society. More striking is Jallo’s style of presentation, which is rich in versification, a style that is not so common among contemporary female writers in Nigeria. The style is successfully deployed and it makes the playwright’s message more stentorian. Similarly, Tume’s use of the play-in-a-play technic is a plus for her stage directing considerations. It makes the play less populated with characters and easier for directors to manage. The use of fewer characters (mostly women) in both plays to achieve the objective of the authors to develop a template for the actualisation of women’s freedom from violence and other forms of oppression is also commendable but it may not be totally correct to assume that only women can solve the problems that women face in marriages since

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both sexes are involved in the conjugal relationship. However, a major weakness in the plays is the creation of a world of alienation for the female gender. There is a suggestion that if and when there are abuses in a marriage, creating a safe haven for the woman by severing all ties from the man will seem to be the best option, not minding the fact that it is impossible to create such separation in a society where the male and the female will always have one thing or another to do in common. Both sexes actually depend on each other for a meaningful co-existence.

Conclusion This chapter has been able to examine the various forms of violence against women and their possible consequences in the Nigerian society as dramatised by Zainabu Jallo and Tosin Tume in their respective plays, Onions Make Us Cry and Not That Woman. Both plays are written in the feminist tradition and bring to the fore the marital worries that have made the female gender a beast of burden in matrimonies. The chapter submits that men are portrayed as slyly pretentious and unapologetic in their savagery towards women. Their brutish mien, to the playwrights, is almost turning the marriage institution into an abyss of frustration, dilemma and everything that is grotesque. Women’s complacency and conspiracy of silence in the face of the ill-treatment meted out to them by men do not seem to help their circumstance hence, the speak-up advocacy that both plays endorse. Beyond all of this, however, the chapter finds that there is a tone of generalisation which makes the man-woman relationship a debacle viciously planned and implemented by the man with the consequence of a growing female hatred for the male gender. Perhaps it is arguable to reason that this unmitigated hatred for men is partly responsible for certain deviant indulgences like lesbianism in the society.

Works cited Chigbu, A. Chigbu, Gideon U, Umezurike and Chibuzo Onunkwo. “From Un-concealment to Nothingness: Nihilism in Henrik Ibsen’s A Doll’s House and Zainabu Jallo’s Onions Make Us Cry.” International Journal of Applied linguistics and English Literature, Vol. 7, No. 4. Australian International Academic Centre PYT Ltd., 2018. Egwuda-Ugbeda, F. and Ezeh M.A. “Zainabu Jallo: A Psychograph and Psychogram Dramatist.” Journal of Multidisciplinary and Advanced Studies, Vol. 1, No. 1. European Centre for Research Training and Development UK, 2017. Igwe, Ezinne. “Subtlety of Tears: Theatrical Exploration of Women’s Psychological Battle with Domestic Violence.” British Journal of Psychology Research, Vol. 3, No. 4. pp. 19–28. European Centre for Research Training and Development UK, 2015. www.eajournals.org. Jallo, Zainabu. Onions Make Us Cry. Bloomington: AuthorHouse, 2013. Nnanna, Ndubuisi. “A Psychoanalytic Interrogation of Trauma, Anxiety and Sexual Identity in Zainabu Jallo’s Onions Make Us Cry.” African Female Playwrights: A Study of Matter and Manner. Emeka Nwabueze (ed.). Enugu: ABIC Books & Equip. Ltd., 2016.

154  Adekunle M. Adeyemi Tume, ‘Tosin. “Not That Woman.” Contemporary Plays by African Women. Yvette Hutchison and Amy Jeptha, (eds.). London: Bloomsberry Publishing Plc, 2019. Tyson, Lois. Critical Theory Today: A User-Friendly Guide. New York & London: Garland Publishing, Inc. 1999. Upchurch, Angela. “Legalising Misandry: From Public Shame to Systemic Discrimination Against Men — A review.” Family Court Review, Vol. 45, No. 4. pp 657–660. John Wiley & Sons, Inc., 2007. https://doi.org.

11 Se “Iya” ni’wo yi?: Questioning motherhood in Bosede Ademilua-Afolayan’s drama Saheed Bello

Introduction In Nigeria like elsewhere in the continent, contemporary women writers, such as Irene Salami, Tess Onwueme and Akachi Ezeigbo, write back to attack or resist women’s oppression, subjugation and marginalisation with the hope of fostering their emancipation or liberation within highly “patriarchal Nigerian society.” Writing on Nigerian women dramatists, Bello (30) maintains that “their writings apart from having Marxist undertones are also influenced by various Western feminist ideas.” In other words, the language of criticism in which women are referred to as weak, second-class citizen, marginalised, oppressed, sexual objects, and so forth are influenced by a Marxist theory of class struggle. In trying to attack the perceived marginalisation of women, without paying adequate attention to cultural realities within which the “marginalised” appear to exist, the scholars and writers have focused significant attention on women’s plight and overlooked their privileged position in the African feminine agenda and their fundamental role towards positive transformation of human society. For instance, Molara Ogundipe-Leslie’s “Stiwanism” and Catherine Acholonu’s “Motherism” present ideas of feminism in an African context. In a similar way, Ngoco Lauretta, in African Motherhood – Myth and Reality, tries to develop the ideas of motherhood in relation to feminism from the African perspective. However, it appears that Marxist ideology has more influence on their writings than the cultural and socio-political reality of the people they try to explain. Like other feminists with similar ideological rationale, Ngcobo (534) emphasises the major weakness rather than the strength of women in African society. She asserts that “the major weakness in this formidable role of motherhood is that women can only exercise it from the outside, for they remain marginalised at their new husband’s home.” Marriage, as an institution, involves the union of two partners who form a family of their own and under normal circumstances play their roles independent of their parents. It may be sentimental to think that a woman would carry out the role of motherhood in her parent’s home because of the taboo, (among Yoruba people), for her father to father her children.

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Scanty or no attention has been given to the concept of “Iya” (motherhood) as embedded in Yoruba philosophy and represented in its literature. Pursuing this argument within the Yoruba femininity and its socio-cultural context leads to extending the concept of motherhood by explaining the following questions; who is “Iya”? How complex is the institution? What are her/its weaknesses and strengths and how does it appear in dramatic narrative? This chapter’s aim is not solely to understand “Iya” (motherhood) as a state of being but also as a concept which gives content to dramatic narrative.

Se “iya” ni’wo yi?: Yoruba concepts of motherhood The question – Se Iya ni’wo yi? – “are you really a mother” – is not intended to suggest that a woman is not the biological mother of a child but that her state of being as a mother (motherhood) is being questioned among the Yoruba. The question arises when a mother does not conform to the role as expected among her people. The meaning and essence are complex and flexible (referring to both a human state and an institution). It is used as a prefix in referring to Iya-mi (my mother), Iya-wa (our mother), Iya-lode (social mother), Iya-Loja (market mother), Iyawo (wife), Iyale (first wife) or Iya Agba (oldest or elderly mother), Iyaami (Aje/witches)1 and so on. These examples define how the various transformations of “Iya” are derived from the conceptualisation of mothers in Yoruba society. It is arguable to say that the in-depth understanding of the concepts of motherhood is embedded within the process of maturation, transformations, transfigurations, transpositions of Iya among Yoruba people. For example, Olajubu (16) asserts that “motherhood as a biological function is symmetrical with the “motherhood cult” (iya mi) in Yoruba religion. Among the Yoruba, then, motherhood manifests meanings at two different but interrelated levels.” She validates the above assertion through the conceptualisation of symbolic visual images that refer to the dimensional nature of women’s power and explains further that the “images of kneeling and breastfeeding figures (ikunle abiyamo and omu iya) in the arts…. reinforce the motif of motherhood as an avenue of power (Olajubu, 16).” The image of kneeling, (ikunle Abiyamo), signifies women’s painful position and experience during labor. The image of breastfeeding (Omu Iya) symbolises the process of nourishing and nurturing a child by giving the sacred milk of life. Essentially, these ideas are pointing to the dynamic actions of mothers in performing their biological roles among the Yoruba people. Therefore, Ngcobo’s (534) assertion that “the position of motherhood is socially and cosmologically very central” is a good beginning to philosophical explication of “Iya.” Ngcobo’s assertion on African motherhood as an institution finds theoretical relevance in Yoruba culture. A woman’s womb is central to perpetuating human existence through “the land of the unborn, the land of the living and the land of the ancestors” (Ngcobo, 534).2 This is best explained by a line from the Yoruba Ifa corpus of Ika-Meji as documented

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in Emmanuel’s (122) thesis that “Agbado tinu Iya s’omo tuntun wa’le-aye” – corn from a mother’s womb gets transformed into a new baby. Corn, in this context, refers to ova. In such a concept, motherhood as an institution is about child rearing and wombs are doorways to existence (see Washington, 15). In other words, the mystery of controlling and nurturing human life or rearing children is a fundamental role of “Iya” which begins in the womb. Due to this biological power and control over life, motherhood is at the locus of mysticism which Hoch-Smith explains as follows: “among the Yoruba, all women are potential members of the Iya mi cult (witches), since all women are mystically linked through the menstrual blood” (Olajubu, 14). Through the “Asee” (menstrual blood), motherhood controls not only life and death but also initiates man into the position of fatherhood, for “Awon Iya waa control reproductive organs and are bonded through the power of menstrual blood and the lives it promises” (Washington, 217). Motherhood as an institution is very powerful in our society (Ngcobo, 535) and that Orisha Oko and Osun3 as the guardians of marital fertility, safe child birth and domestic stability are the archetype of mothers in Yoruba myths. In fact, “as a result of the summation of all these attributes, Osun is venerated as the great Magician (Osun Sengese) the peaceful aspect of feminism, the universal mother (yeye) and source of mysteries (Osun Osoro Efon)” (Emmanuel, 187). There is a Yoruba saying that Orisha bi’ya kosi – there is no deity like “Iya” who is rated higher than other gods or deities. This powerful position of “Iya” as controller of women’s fertility may have been overlooked by some scholars who assume that women’s fertility and its products (children) belong to her husband because he has paid a dowry. Ngcobo (533) holds that “the basis of marriage among Africans implies the transfer of a woman’s fertility to [her] husband’s family group.” Conversely, the Yoruba people believe in the communal ownership of children which is best explained in Ika-Meji, the oral poetry of Ifa’….Okawu ni para eekan biribiri, Iya l’akaagbon, Baba l’akaagun, Olota won l’akaka-kara eyin agbasa…. (In this giant city, mothers are called Akaagbon, fathers are called Akaagun and every family in the city bears a name with “ka” in it (Emmanuel, 129).4 In this sense, Ngcobo’s statement is at odds with Yoruba mothers as the guardian of marital fertility and the possessor of the power to know the true paternity of a child. In this case, if child bearing is the essence of marriage as an institution, then it may be logical to think that as the spiritual controller and giver of life, a woman is more powerful than a man because she controls the spiritual links to human existence. According to Olajubu (9), “the existence of gender construct[s] among the Yoruba does not translate to notions of oppression and the domination of women by men, because it is mediated by the philosophy of complementary gender relations, which is rooted in the people’s cosmic experience.” Considering the sacred duties and values of “Iya” in the socio-religious sphere, Yoruba believe that one may be childless and still attain the position of motherhood by linking the private and public space and thus “shape

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the lives of those who occupy the public space in their capacity as mothers and people who nurture” (Olajubu, 10). Although some feminists hold that African women are relegated to the private space of their family, in Yoruba history, we have learned of Susan Wenger (1915–2009), an Austrian artist, who found home in Osogbo, Osun State and devoted her entire life to the worship of Osun, the deity of women’s fertility, safe child birth and children well-being. Susan Wenger in spite of her childlessness attained the prominent and powerful position of motherhood because “she was entrusted by one of the last truly Oshun Priests, Layi Olosun to bring up most of his children, one of those children is Doyin Fabiyi and Susan also adopted Shangodare Gbadamosi Ajala at the age of 5 (Merzeder, 10)” and the adopted become prominent figures in the hierarchy of Yoruba tradition.” She was renamed Adunni Olorisha – (Adunni the owner or the worshiper of river-goddess). Similarly, through oral mythology, Queen of Sheba, (a biblical woman figure during the era of King Solomon), is said to have travelled to Ijebu Ode, (present day Ogun State, Nigeria), in search of a child. Queen of Sheba was renamed Bilikisu who died as a notable communal mother buried and deified at Oke Eri, a spiritual destination in the State. Finally, Efunsetan Aniwura (1820–1874), perhaps the most powerful Iya-lode in the history of Ibadan, Oyo state, was a childless woman who lost her only child and became prominent and wealthy through slave trading. Comparing the role of Efunsetan Aniwura in Akinwumi Ishola’s historical drama of Ibadan to that of Adunni Olorisha in Osogbo or Bilikisu in Ijebu Ode, one might say that mothers were notable for building as well as destroying society. These women died childless. But based on the Yoruba belief that “all children were regarded as belonging to the community (Osuntokun, 2),” Adunni Olorisha and Bilikisu were communal mothers who ensured the spiritual wellbeing of other peoples’ children while Efunsetan Aniwura bought, enslaved and sold other peoples’ children into slavery. Given her psychological state of mind when she lost her only child, Efunsetan became enemy of the community because she destroyed children (the future of the people). Motherhood, as personified in Yoruba pantheon exemplified by Osun (the river-goddess) closely followed by her devotees (Yeye Osun), may be a more complex and powerful concept than that of biological mothers. Osun devotees might not have their own children but are called Iya Abiwere or Iya Abiye by the virtue of their commitment to easy and safe child birth. They are also referred to as Iya Agbomola traditional nursing mothers.5 In their complex roles, they are sometimes referred to as Aje which can have a positive or negative connotation. Washington (17) maintains that the power that Odu and Aje wield is complex, elemental, and profound. What is more, it is not merely the biological act of giving birth but the entire concept of creating, and the mysteries surrounding how to sustain and develop creation, that signifies Aje Odu and her ownership of Oro.

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The Yoruba concept of motherhood is complicated by the communal role that places older woman at the position of Iya Agba (older woman) or what Washington calls Agbalagba Obirin (elderly woman). Perhaps, the concept of being Iya Agba in Bosede Afolayan’s Once Upon an Elephant is influenced by Yoruba consciousness of Iya Agba as the most secretive, sacred and mystical within the Yoruba religious and socio-cultural plane but not unconnected to the domestic and/or public well-being. Washington (16) explains that: among the Yoruba, the postmenopausal era does not signify obsolescence; instead, when life bearing ends, spiritual magnification begins. An elderly woman is heralded as the one with the vagina that turns upside down without pouring blood. With the acquisition of the beard of old age, an Agbalaagba Obirin acquires not masculine aspects but dual spiritual material mobility. She is abaara meji, one with two bodies, and oloju meji, one with two faces: Her spirit becomes a force equal to or greater than her physical being.

“Iya” in Ademilua-Afolayan’s drama Beginning with the consciousness of Yoruba philosophy, Bosede AdemiluaAfolayan in Once Upon an Elephant (2015) develops “Iya” in dramatic literature and shares the religious, social, cultural and communal experience of Yoruba. Engaging this communalysis (the representation of the Nigerian communal way of life),6 this chapter explores the concepts of “Iya” as represented Ademilua-Afolayan’s plays. Bosede Ademilua-Afolayan, as a dramatist, comments on societal problems. Her drama is a medium through which she draws attention to the shortcomings in human society and thus instigates positive social change, which she first addresses in “Poetics of anger….” Given her consciousness of the similarity in socio-economic problems in Britain in 1956 and those in contemporary Nigeria, Ademilua-Afolayan transposes the narrative of social issues in John Osborne’s Look Back in Anger to the world of her play, Look Back in Gratitude. In the play, she replaces Jimmy Porter in Osborne’s play with Jagunlabi Fijabi, an unemployed Nigerian youth, who voices his anger and exposes the social problems in contemporary Nigeria. Look Back in Gratitude dramatises the story of love in the private life of Jagunlabi and Tokunbo and addresses social issues such as corruption, inequality, bad governance and unemployment in the public sphere of Nigerian society. The love across social ladder not solely exposes the frustration in the subconscious mind of the poor Jagunlabi who married a rich man’s daughter, Tokunbo, but also brings down the walls of social stratification in the minds of the poor and rich people. Jagunlabi condemns the status quo and challenges the system that spurs unbecoming social dysfunction in the modern society. In her author’s note, Ademilua-Afolayan avers that “all the disillusionment and political disgust of young people find a spokesman in the cantankerous

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Jagunlabi Fijabi (2013: 6). That political disgust in the public sphere of the society influences the travails in the private home of Jagunlabi and Tokunbo. Look Back in Gratitude opens amidst conversation between Landlady and a troubled Younger Woman who is in a period of disagreement with her husband. As a more experienced wife – Iya(wo), the Landlady advises the Younger Women and explains the nature of African men based on her experience. She holds that African men are traditionally polygamous as they cannot be faithful to their wives as a result of their insatiable quest to taste various women. Landlady placates the Younger Woman as she uses her story of divorce as a springboard. In spite of her opinion that African women leave in a male-dominated world, the Landlady does not solely maintain that wives are the mothers who keep African homes together but also raise a question that challenges the concept of motherhood. Talking to the Younger Woman, Landlady says that “we try our best to keep our homes, but is our best ever enough? Think about it and wipe your face, go home to your husband and be a good wife” (13). In this context, the landlady questions and also challenges the young lady to be up and doing in her motherhood roles. The story of the Younger Woman is that of Tokunbo who experiences ill-treatment in the hands of her husband – Jagunlabi Fijabi. The complexity of the relationship is not unconnected with unemployment rate that leaves Fijabi jobless for years. He is frustrated and feels ridiculed by the socioeconomic reality that places his wife in the position of a breadwinner. Given his psychological state of mind, he tries to repress that he does not take pride in the fact that Tokunbo takes care of every responsibility in the family. However, he releases his frustration by finding faults in everything she does. Finding faults in her spiritual and religious inclination, he calls her Iya Ijo – congregation or church mother. In that context, Iya Ijo has a negative connotation as it questions her motherhood roles in a church and in relation to her relationship with the pastor of the church. TOKUNBO:  Jags,

please open the door. (whispers) The neighbours are already looking at me and I am sure they have been listening to everything. Please. JAGUN: (shouts) why does that bother you? Don’t they see you and the way you carry on with your pastor? Half the respect you give to your pastor, you don’t give me. Iya Ijo, go and sleep in your church. (25) While Jagun calls his wife Iya Ijo, he also refers to the Landlady as Mother Teresa. The Landlady, who has been playing a motherhood role of mediator, receives insult from Jagunlabi Fijabi. The Landlady strives to mend the broken home of Tokunbo and Jagunlabi, the Old Woman – Tokunbo’s grandmother takes care of the spiritual wellbeing of the family. Old Woman appearance in Tokunbo’s dream world reveals Ademilua-Afolayan’s consciousness of motherhood idea of Abiyamo ki su among Yoruba. This idea is based on Yoruba belief that Abiyamo is a protector and sleepless mother who

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watches over her children even from the abode of the dead. The Old Woman calls in Tokunbo’s dream: OLD WOMAN’S VOICE: 

Omotokunbo Agbeke, wake up (taps her on the shoulder) wake up, my child. TOKUNBO:  (half-asleep, half-awake.) Hmmh, who is this? Old Woman: It is me. TOKUNBO: (recognizes the voice) Grandmama, is that you? OLD WOMAN:  Yes, Agbeke, omo owa, omo ekunlafin. (chants her cognomen) You, the daughter of the lion, Agbeke, the one to carry, pet and pamper. The child of great hunter of Eshinmo. What are you doing alone, outside, at this time? (does not wait for an answer.) I have seen your travails, child, wipe your tears. You will laugh again. (29) The dream and words of hope provide spiritual healing as an invaluable idea which is not uncommon in the resolution of family issues or communal unrest in Ademilua-Afolayan’s plays. That resolution, in Ademilua-Afolayan, comes from experienced and mature women as in the case of Landlady and Old woman. The Landlady gives motherhood advice and even fight against the quarrelsome and cantankerous Fijabi, the Old Woman provides spiritual healing through the words of hope for a better future. That role of a mother and a peacemaker is later played by Tokunbo who seems to be more matured after years of marriage. She advises Jagunlabi: JAGUN: (stammers.)

I… I never prayed for this kind of life. All I have ever wanted is to succeed, to be somebody useful in life. TOKUNBO:  Then stop blaming others and move on. Stop thinking about the past, because it doesn’t exist anymore. Stop allowing your shameful past tie you down. Rise above all these noise and poverty and be a man. Do anything and everything, within the law, and be successful, so that this child, our child, can one day say that I did the right thing by marrying you. So that this child, our child, can say “I am proud of my father!” ( Jagun stands and walks away. Tokunbo follows him.) You have it in you, Jags. I know you do because I saw it. Bring it out. Use it anyhow, but just succeed with it. ( Jagun turns, looks at her intently, walks up to her and embraces her……) (63) The characters of Landlady and Old Woman in Look Back in Gratitude are later revamped into the character of Iya Agba in Bosede Ademilua-Afolayan’s second play – Once upon an Elephant. Like Iya Agba, the Landlady is married and divorced by her beloved husband. The Landlady plays the role of a mediator, between Tokunbo and Jagunlabi, as played by Iya Agba who settles dispute in her community. In addition, the Old Woman’s spiritual role in Tokunbo’s life is synonymous to that of Iya Agba in the well being of her community. Although, the personality of Landlady and Old Woman in Look

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Back in Gratitude could be found in motherhood roles of Iya Agba in Once Upon an Elephant but the two of them combine are not strong enough to personify the character of Iya Agba as discussed later in this chapter. Once Upon an Elephant opens with Ajanaku’s ritual of Olubori7 at the shrine of Ogun (the god of iron and the pathfinder). Performed by Serubawon, the ritual prepares Ajanaku to ascend to the throne despite the existence of the people’s king. As it is a taboo to enthrone a new king while one king is still alive. It is surprising that Serubawon (the chief priest) who is the medicine man for the dying king masterminds the enthronement of Ajanaku (or Olaniyonu) and invites other kingmakers (Ogundele and Odejimi) to witness the ritual. Ogundele and Odejimi realise that Serubawon is performing the ritual of Olubori for Ajanaku and challenge him. Ogundele laments: “Spirit of our father! Serubawon, that boy’s father yet lives! Our King lives!.” However, the ritual alters the tradition of the people and subsequently paves the way for the usurpation of the throne by Ajanaku after the mysterious death of King Akinjobi. Metaphorically, Ajanaku’s usurpation of the throne represents “the issue of dictatorship, “sit-tightism,” or what some critics have referred to as self-perpetuating syndrome” (Ademilua-Afolayan, 2015: 7) among Nigerian and other African leaders. Neither Ajanaku nor his insatiable quest to become immortal and unconquerable at all cost could exist if not for the role of other characters, particularly female characters in the play. Unlike other Nigerian women writers who project their female characters as flawless as possible, the women characters, in Ademilua-Afolayan’s play, find themselves in an embattled situation not unconnected with their own actions and mistakes. The dynamic suspense results from Ademilua-Afolayan’s unbiased representation of “the role of women as cause and sometimes, a solution provider in a story in which they may be complicit (Ademilua-Afolayan, 7).” The tension in the play originates from intimacy (an aberration in morality) between Serubawon and Olori Adebisi (King Akinjobi’s younger wife) in which Serubawon’s sperm wets the seed of a bastard which, thus, develops in the womb of Olori Adebisi is the beginning of social unrest in the play. Perhaps, this is the reason for Yoruba saying that ti idile kan ba ntoro, omo ale ibe ni ko ti d’agba – that is, a calm and crime-free family implies that the bastard therein has not grown up. This saying attests to the Yoruba belief that an ideal home cannot contain a bastard. Iya Agba (King Akinjobi’s first wife) remarks “the unthinkable happened and with it a series of other calamities.” While Akinjobi was legitimately sharing the bed with his wife, unknown to him, his blood was also mixing freely with that of a bastard child. Soon, he develops a strange ailment. The same Serubawon sharing the bed with his king’s wife was also his medicine man (73). The play then establishes its concept of “Iya” through the figure of Adebisi who starts the role of motherhood outside of matrimony. Adebisi’s character is perceived weak because she allows a man other than her husband to share her bed and is impregnated outside of wedlock perhaps knowingly to

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usurp the throne or through manipulation by Serubawon who wants his own blood-line to become heir to the throne. Her strength lies in knowing the paternity of Ajanaku but she refuses to disclose that the child is illegitimate. Subsequently, Adebisi and Serubawon commit more offences while trying to disguise the one already committed. Adebisi’s motherhood role and the power of giving life to a tyrant (Ajanaku) disrupt the socio-political arrangement, altering the destiny of the people. Adebisi’s motherhood power makes it easy for Serubawon to mix his blood with that of the royal family. Olori Adebisi represents a destroyer rather than a builder of human society. It would have been impracticable for Serubawon to single-handedly enthrone his own son, if not for Adebisi who betrays the trust of matrimony and throws the entire community into a pathetic turmoil at the hands of Olaniyonu who rules authoritatively over the people. The exposition is made possible by Iyale, perhaps the leading woman figure who dispenses wisdom in her dealing with other women and the community. Iyale is the only person who believes that Iya Agba is not insane and sees wisdom and truth in what she says. Even Odejimi (Iyale’s husband), (who relentlessly struggles against Serubawon and Ajanaku), cannot see wisdom in what Iya Agba says. Engaging her husband, Iyale expresses that “life is a bunch of proverbs, Baale mi. You can never know it all. Iya Agba speaks the truth (30).” The above assertion suggests Iyale as a symbol of marital stability and communal sustainability. Iyale’s knowledge of the chaotic situation helps in finding a solution to the community’s problems and then stops Ajanaku’s reign of terror. The situation seems irreversible until Ajanaku uses Desola (the only daughter of Demoke and Serubawon) as the sixth virgin to complete his ninety-day rite of Ijedodo ritual. Unknowingly, he deflowers his only sister for the ritual of Ijedodo and thereafter enters a conflict with Serubawon and Demoke. Meanwhile, “Ijedodo has no cure. It feeds on the blood of the virgin to keep whoever has done it alive, while that virgin dies a slow and painful death!” (Iya Agba, 74). Hence, in her effort to save Desola, Iyale begs Iya Agba on behalf of Demoke and the entire community. She explains: IYALE:  Iya Agba, your children are greeting you. IYA AGBA:  I can’t remember having any child for Akinjobi. IYALE:  I mean your children … the villagers. IYA AGBA:  Did they say I have been adopted as mother-effigy?

Nobody told me that. Anyway, who would even talk to a mad woman, except Iyale, my only friend? (69).

At that point, Iya Agba exercises supreme control over the community, for she knows the genesis of the people’s problem. Iya Agba nurtures and protects the community’s children as supreme mother who gains respect and veneration among the villagers. In Yoruba culture, Abiyamo ki gbo ekun omo re komo

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tati were – when a good mother hears her child crying, she responds promptly and Iyale explains IYALE:  You

told me Desola was born on a day something good happened to you in spite of the tribulation you suffered at the hands of this land. Because of that, you adopted her as your own daughter. You even pray for her sometimes. Iya Agba, your Desola is here. She dies slowly. She needs your help. She is dying. IYA AGBA:  Where is Desola? YOSOLA:  She is right here IYA AGBA:  Ah, my child! Can’t she sit up? (71). However, the motherhood role becomes complex when Iya Agba catches Serubawon and Adebisi amid their shocking and abominable acts. What would she have done? Report them to Oba Akinjobi? Or simply keep quiet? And when she keeps quiet, the criminals play smart and turn King Akinjobi and the entire people against her. If she reports them to Oba Akinjobi, the entire village might take it for jealousy. Being the first wife in the polygamous family of Oba Akinjobi, her position is that of mother to all (the owner of the house), she keeps the secret hoping that they would repent. This singular act of Iya Agba not only creates the suspense but also complicates the incidents in the play. For she also knows about their (Adebisi and Serubawon) subsequent atrocities, her life gets transformed to that of mad woman and then Iya Agba. However, she eventually exposes them at the end of the play and resolves the entire narrative: IYA AGBA:  Serubawon,

what did you call me just now? (Silence) I want you to call my name again. (Silence. Iya Agba shouts at him) I said call my name! SERUBAWON: Fadeke! IYA AGBA:  Fadeke. Omofadeke Adunni… that was my name. But, you lied and cheated, then used your treachery to change my name. Suddenly, I became that mad woman, and then Iya Agba, all because you wanted to cover up your atrocities. I was once a respected queen in the palace of Akinjobi. You turned my husband against me. You connived with Adebisi, my younger wife, and Demoke, your wife, backed up your lies. She even swore to what she never saw, and both of you crashed my own world. Akinjobi believed you because he trusted his friend and medicine man. What else will the elders do? Now tell me, that night I saw you and Adebisi in her room doing what only my husband had the right to do with his wife, did you think I was going to expose you? Did Adebisi not tell you that I swore never to say anything provided you stop the abominable act? Oh, she did, but you both had enjoyed it so much that you couldn’t stop. You completely betrayed the trust of those close to you. No one can turn back the tide of time. It is too late now to cry. I did a

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lot of crying, alone, miserably, but that was in the past. I have only one question for you. Who is Olaniyonu’s father? (Silence) who is Ajanaku’s father? SERUBAWON:  (Quietly.) I am! (p. 72–73) Meanwhile, the palace has turned to a place for rearing bastards. Ajanaku, who is conceived outside of wedlock, also snatches Omoyeni who carries Delani’s child in her womb. At the end of the play, Iya Agba does not only expose the evils but also challenges Demoke’s motherhood role. She says “what do you know about motherhood? Of course, her role of nurturing and protecting Desola is eventually played by Iya Agba. And during Jobele festival, when Ajanaku is preparing to become immortal, Iya Agba prepares certain rite and leads Desola to the palace. Subsequently, Desola snatches back her life from Ajanaku who begins to react strangely while Omoyeni gives birth. The situation symbolises the moment of purgation and spiritual rebirth in the history of the people.

Conclusion Evidently, “Iya” is a strong personality in Ademilua-Afolayan’s drama. She keeps secret, settles dispute, stabilises family and harmonises the community. Pain and gain may be inseparable from the process of creating, nourishing, nurturing and mentoring in the complicated and enduring responsibility of motherhood. As a result of mothers who are weak in undertaking their motherhood roles, society suffers destructive consequences. Considering the duality of being, “Iya” could be considered as both a builder and destroyer of human society. The phenomenological account in Ademilua-Afolayan’s Look Back in Gratitude and Once Upon an Elephant, does not solely represent the significant and prominent roles of women in transforming society but also reveals the inevitable tensions and conflicts that resulted from inter/intra gender power struggles in the community. The complexity of “Iya” gives essential ingredients or narrative contents and, thus, creates dramatic conflict as well as fascinating suspense in Ademilua-Afolayan’s plays.

Notes

1. Although, this is a derogatory term, but the idea to stress the power and unusual ability of certain set of women is the priority. 2. This is actually a restatement of Soyinka’s concept of Yoruba worldview. See: Myth, Literature and the African World (1976). 3. See Abosede Emanuel, Odun Ifa (Ifa Festival) (2000) for detailed explanation on Orisha Oko and Osun. 4. See Wande Abimbola, Ijinle Ohun Enu Ifa Apa Keji (1969) for Ifa poetry of Ika Meji. 5. Perhaps they are guided by Yoruba philosophy and old wisdom that says “Eni bi’mo omo lo ma sin, Eni ti o bi’mo omo loma sin, - whoever gives birth will be buried by a child likewise a childless person will buried by a child.

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6. See Saheed Bello, Communalysis: A Realist Representation in Nigerian Theatre and Cinema (2015) for understanding of the critical term. 7. Olubori is the essential rite of coronation for a new king.

Works cited Abimbola, Wande. Ijinle Ohun Enu Ifa – Apa Keji, UK: Wm. Collins, Sons and Co. Ltd. 1969. Ademilua-Afolayan, Bosede. Look Back in Gratitude, Ibadan, Nigeria: Kraft Books Limited, 2013. . Once Upon an Elephant, Ibadan, Nigeria: Kraft Books Limited, 2015. . “Poetics of Anger in John Osborne’s Look Back in Anger and Femi Osofisan’s The Chattering and the Song.” British Journal of Arts and Social Sciences, vol. 5, No. 1. 2012: 123–141. Bello, Saheed. “Communalysis”: A Realist Representation in Nigerian Theatre and Cinema, Germany: Lambert Academic Publishing (LAP), 2015. Emmanuel, Abosede. Odun-Ifa (Ifa Festival), Nigeria: West African Book Publishers Limited. 2000. Ishola, Akinwumi. Two Yoruba Historical Dramas: Efunsetan Aniwura, Iyalode Ibadan and Tinubu, Iyalode Egba, Eritrea: African World Press. 2005. Merzeder-Taylor, Gusti. Susanne Wenger: A Fulfilled Life. 2009. Accessed online 23/08/2016. Ngcobo, Lauretta, ‘African Motherhood – Myth and Reality.’ African Literature: An Anthology of Criticism and Theory, eds. Olaniyan. T. & Quayson. A. Australia: Blackwell Publishing, pp. 533–541, 1988. Olajubu, Oyeronke. Women in the Yoruba Religious Sphere, New York: State University of New York Press. 2003. Osuntokun. Jide, ‘Colonial and Post Colonial Culture of Nigeria,’ Cultural Studies: Theories, Concepts and Practice, eds. Obafemi. O. & Yerima. A. Kuru, Nigeria: National Institute, pp. 1–14. 2011. Washington, Teresa. Our Mothers, Our Powers, Our Texts: Manifestations of Àje in Africana Literature, Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2005.

12 Orality as a means of projecting authorial vision in Osita Ezenwanebe’s Withered Thrust and Shadows on Arrival Mulikah Adeyemi Lawal Introduction Like most modern African writers, Osita Ezenwanebe employs oral features in her plays. These oral elements serve as the background of most written African literature as the writers (Africans) use them in presenting their own realities. This domestication of the English language by the African writer helps to ensure the establishment and transformation of such oral features to a wider audience. As the notable Nigerian poet, Christopher Okigbo says, “the artists” vocation is a priestly office charged with maintaining the culture of his/her society as a whole (Adu-Gyamfi 104). Thus, these writers write to change the colonialist view about Africa as well as to maintain their cultural heritage. This they do by the blending of oral forms into writing, what Soyinka calls “double writing” (Adu-Gyamfi 104). Hence, we can find elements of oral African literature in the works of modern African writers. The ambit of this chapter is to examine the elements of orality in two plays by the Nigerian female playwright, Osita Ezenwanebe. Thus, this chapter investigates the various elements of orality that Ezenwanebe employs in Shadows on Arrival and Withered Thrust. Also, this article hopes to show the contribution of the elements of orality to the author’s intended meaning in the play. That is, how the elements of orality add to the intended meaning (authorial vision) and style of the playwright as well as the progression of the plots of the plays. At this juncture, it is pertinent to define the major concept in the topic, viz – orality. This is important in order to avoid misconceptions and make general clarifications about the elements of orality. In Studying Literature, Goring et al (400; emphasis mine) define orality as: A term used to denote an extended complex of elements associated with oral cultures-that is, cultures either unaffected by literacy and the written word or only marginally affected by them. Walter Ong distinguishes primary orality in pre-literate societies and secondary orality in literate societies in which new technologies reintroduce forms of orality.

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Putting it more succinctly, Gunner (67) in her “Africa and Orality” writes that: Orality was the means by which Africa made its existence, its history long before the colonial and imperial presence of the west manifested itself. In this sense, orality needs to be seen not simply as “the absence of literacy” but as something self-constitutive, sui generis. From the above scholarly explanations, certain key words can be deduced. The word “culture” in Goring’s definition emphasises the fact that orality cannot be removed from the culture of a people and “literacy” refers to the medium in which orality is manifested today. The idea that orality is related to the cultures of societies and its relation to literacy in modern literature confirms that modern African writers craft their arts to preserve their culture thereby fulfilling Okigbo’s task upon them. Thus, as Irele (75) notes, writers use oral literature or orality as a source of inspiration for their works as well as give the works “a semblance to African culture.” This latter part is important because of the mode in which the works of modern African writers are written today, viz – in European languages. It should also be noted that Goring et al’s (400) definition of orality identifies that the term orality denotes “an extended complex of elements associated with oral cultures.” Critics have always engaged in the identification of oral genres or elements in texts. This, Abiola Irele in his “Orality, Literacy and African Literature,” attributes to the scholarly interest with which orality has been studied in recent times. Giving reasons for this interest, Irele (74) notes that this important aspect of African literature has been emphasised by structural linguistics as “the basis of language” as well as “a primary modality of literary expression.” This is indeed true. The primacy of orality is that it is encountered first before literacy or writing. We learn to talk before learning to write. This further debunks the misconstrued superiority of literacy over orality because of what Irele (75) calls the former’s “greater adequacy in organizing human experience.” On another spectrum, the truth is that human experiences are also adequately organised via oral means (Ong 6). People usually think in their first languages which is usually the language of their oral forms. To successfully show the importance of the oral basis of language in writing, two drama texts – Osita Ezenwanebe’s Withered Thrust and Shadows on Arrival – have been meticulously chosen. In both plays, the writer employs the use of oral elements to further plot her stories and enrich the meaning of the texts. This shows the significance of orality in both plays and literature, in general. Thus, this study seeks to show the importance of orality especially as it relates to the meanings of the thematic focus of a text or its plot in a bid to encourage readers to learn consciously the elements of orality so that they can understand the motives of a writer. It should be noted that in a bid to situate what orality is, critics have noted that orality is related to oral traditions or cultures that are relived and

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transmitted from one generation to another by means of the word of mouth. Thus, the elements common to oral tradition are directly the elements of orality too. Yaw AduGyamfi in “Orality in Writing, its Cultural and Political Significance in Wole Soyinka’s Ogun Abibiman” identifies some elements of orality. In his opinion, these elements include tonal lyricism, poetry of the primal drum and flute, proverbs, riddles, myths, songs, folktales, antiphonal call and response styles, praise poetry, rhythmic repetitive, digressive and formulaic mode of language use. Notably, these elements are what African speakers use in their day-to-day communication and which writers use in their written works to uphold the beauty of the heritage of the African language. One of such elements is praise poetry. Also, called panegyrics, praise poetry as the name implies refers to speeches or poems dedicated to the praise of an individual, a group or a society. In panegyrics, the good sides, characteristics and abilities of a person are celebrated. It also sometimes tells the history of a place or society and the lineage of a person. When chanted for kings or rulers, panegyrics serve the function of a reminder that tells them what the people expect of them in form of societal development. In war poetry also, praise poetry is infused to serve as a morale booster for the warriors. Myths are another important aspect of oral literature. Okpewho (58) (in Affiah and Osuagwu 58) states that “the word myth has also frequently been used for describing a tale in which gods or divinities recognized by a community of people (not just fairies or ordinary spirits are the protagonists ….” The authors conclude that myths are “… originally, oral narratives, serious and sacred, often with ritual backgrounds, having gods or men or monstrous creatures with both qualities as characters” (58). By inference, myths are ancient stories explaining in a literary way, the history of a group of people, natural events or some statements of facts. Myths also tell the genesis of issues. Myths are usually anonymous and vary from time to time or place to place as they are being passed around. This is why there are varying examples of the creation myth depending on the belief and culture of a people. Like myths, proverbs are also an example of oral elements that portray the belief system of a people. In his Introduction to African Oral Literature, Akporobaro (69) describes a proverb as “an aphorism, a wise saying based upon people’s experience and is a reflection of the social values and sensibility of the people.” Proverbs are believed to be a mark of wisdom and expertise in oratory or rhetoric. Thus, Africans believe that a good speaker must be able to use lots of proverbs. Proverbs are used as a means of illustrating the speaker’s message. Africans also believe that proverbs explain a message better. Chinua Achebe puts it succinctly thus: “proverbs are the palm oil with which words are eaten.” Proverbs also show the age, rank and authority of the speaker. Elderly people perhaps because of their experience are, thus, expected to use more proverbial statements than youths. As such, youths are expected to seek the permission of adults in a gathering of both generations before using proverbs in their speech. In the opinion of Balogun (35), proverbs “are not aimless expressions, but modes of conversing, which embody and convey the cultural

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essence and ritual sensibility of the people.” In other words, proverbs encode important messages that reflect deep thought. The poetry of the primal drum and flute is another element of orality. In Africa, the drum and the flute are much more than musical instruments. They perform varying functions. The drum and flute in Africa are capable of performing therapeutic, didactic, entertaining, informative and aesthetic functions. The drummer or flutist is believed to be possessed when engaging in his art. The two instruments can therapeutically heal the mind, and the message being passed can teach lessons. These instruments also entertain people and are aesthetically used in celebrations. The drum and the flute could also be informative when they tell about current and past happenings in the community or even the history of the people. Also, during wars or wrestling competitions in the villages, drums are beaten telling the warriors about the honour and prestige involved in winning. Thus, each wrestler or warrior is encouraged and attempts to win at all costs. This is what Chinua Achebe illustrates in his Things Fall Apart in the fight between Okonkwo and Amalinze the cat. Unoka, encourages his son, Okonkwo, in the fight with his flute and Okonkwo succeeds in the wrestling contest (Achebe 3). Okara in his “Piano and Drums” also describes the various functions of the drum and the joy Africans derive from listening to it. Thus, the two literary texts Achebe’s Things Fall Apart and Okara’s “Piano and Drums” parade the primacy of the poetry of the drum and flute in African oratory. Thus, as noted earlier, these elements are usually embedded in the works of modern African writers. For instance, Efua Sutherland bases her The Marriage of Anansewa on the form of the oral trickster tales with Ananse, the main character himself, being the trickster figure that cunningly gets rich by tricking some chiefs to pay his daughter’s bride price. When these chiefs come to get their bride, Ananse tells his daughter Anasewa to pretend she is dead. He, thus, becomes rich via his tricks like the trickster character does in most folktales. Also, Wole Soyinka makes use of very many poetic expressions particularly proverbs in his Death and the King’s Horseman. These expressions help to portray the world-view of the place setting of the play-text. Bosede Ademilua-Afolayan’s Once Upon an Elephant employs very many examples of praise poetry. The play’s main character, Ajanaku, also self-praises himself on several occasions. In fact, the name by which he is known – Ajanaku – is a personal praise name. In addition, in Africa, or more specifically Nigeria, there are usually poetries for various occasions. There is the bridal chants sung by brides on their wedding day, the hunters’ chant sung by hunters while hunting, satirical songs to satirise the conduct or behaviour of people, funeral dirges, etc., this is another important form of orality. These occasion-specific forms are emphasised in the context of certain incidents. There is a sort of ritualised elements that occur or are done on particular occasions. This is the genesis of the pivotal thesis of this paper to examine the elements of orality in relation to the intended meanings and plots of some works of Osita Ezenwanebe.

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The nexus between orality and authorial vision in Shadows on Arrival As noted earlier, Osita Ezenwanebe, being a modern Nigerian writer, employs many oral features in many of her works. This section examines the elements of orality in her Shadows on Arrival. At this juncture, it is perhaps necessary to say that Ezenwanebe is a writer from the Eastern (Igbo) part of Nigeria. This fact is necessary to note because we have identified that orality is related to the cultures of people. Hence, Shadows on Arrival is mimetically true to life because of the subject it discusses and more so because of the elements of orality it utilises particularly as it relates to the cultural background of the playwright. First published in 2012, Shadows on Arrival as noted in the author’s note focuses on “abuse of office” as a subject (Ezenwanebe 6), this is, therefore, taken to be the author’s vision to expose the ills and project the need for a better society. The play revolves around Egoyibo and Agbomma, her only child. Agbomma is to be sacrificed to Agbala Oha, the Earth goddess of Umueze – one of the towns in Umona – as a priestess. The sacrifice is engineered by Ezemuo, the chief priest of Idemili, because he wants to revenge Egoyibo’s refusal of his love advances. However, the strong mother of Agbomma, knowing the real reason behind the “sacrifice,” tries to save her daughter and prevent Ezemuo’s revenge. In the end, Ezemuo is killed by Agbala Oha supposedly for his selfish acts. Aside from the major subject matter of abuse of office, the play has themes such as religion and sacrifice, lust, revenge, class structure as well as the portrayal and roles of women in the society. In plot quite linear (except for a few flashbacks by Egoyibo), Ezenwanebe employs major oral elements in her play. One notable element of orality in Shadows on Arrival is praise poetry. In Shadows on Arrival, there is a flat character in the praise singer whose duty is to chant the panegyrics of the Igwe, the traditional leader of Umueze. He recants thus: Praise singer- Igwe you will live forever…. Igwe Ochendo, our cover! Our Shield! Defender of the defenseless, Igwe Ogbu Agu! Killer of lions! You are the fearless one, the lion that enters the forest and sends lesser animals into hiding with his roar. The elephant whose feet rock the trees of the forest; I greet you. Igwe Ochili Ozuo1 the sustainer of the helpless! The father of Umueze, you are second to none among your people except the gods. Our voice; the custodian of our traditions; the defender of the life that make us one for which we now gather ….we know who you are, what you are and what you can do! We greet you! (48) The chiefs and citizens of the town also hail the king using his panegyrics. There are many instances of this in the text. For instance, 1st Ichie says – “Igwe Ochendo1 he who continues grazing, defying the bullet fired by an ignorant hunter.” (49) Apart from the Igwe, the chief priest of Idemili is also praised variously in the text. Agwudo, Agbomma’s father says of

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him: “Ezemuo Igaadi! You are half spirit, half man; you see what mortal eyes cannot see; the future is in your palm and the day holds no secret for you. I greet you.” (33) From the illustrations given above, it is clear that the playwright uses much praise poetry in the play. It should be noted that this oral element aids in the portrayal of the playwright’s authorial vision. The praise poetry used variously in the play to eulogise important people is what brought about the subject of the abuse of power. Ezemuo thinks so highly of himself because of the praises he is always being showered with. This is why he attempts to use his perceived absolute power to cheat Egoyibo and Agbomma. The king is also believed to be the father of all and cannot be questioned. Thus, Agwudo is reported to him for not wanting to sacrifice his daughter to Agbala Oha because it is believed that Igwe can compel him to obey. It can, thus, be argued that there is a nexus between the praise poetry used in the text as an element of orality and the playwright’s intended meaning. Another important element of orality used in the play is the myth. Wole Soyinka expatiates on the creation myth using Ogun in his “Idanre.” The myth has it that Ogun, the first blacksmith, created the first iron with which he cleared a path to earth after numerous gods had tried and failed. This is why Ogun is regarded as the pathfinder – the one who created the path and led the gods to earth. In the same vein, Ezenwanebe uses the ogbanje myth to explain the powers of Agbala Oha – the earth goddess – and Idemili. So much reverence is placed on the gods. Agbala Oha is the earth goddess in charge of stopping the ogbanje cycle in sympathy for the suffering mothers. She also gives blessings to the children and the people. Agbala Oha is also believed to be in charge of giving bountiful harvests to farmers. This is why the community makes sacrifices to her in anticipation of good harvests. Idemili, on his part, is a god. Perhaps not as powerful as Agbala Oha, however, helps in severing the cycle of the spirit child – ogbanje. It is with the help of Ezidemili that Agbomma is saved. The playwright also mentions Amadioha, the god of thunder. He is portrayed as a god of justice as Ichie Dike wonders why Agwudo is not punished for blaspheming the gods when he – Agwudo – complains that the message that Agbomma be made priestess should have come from Chieme, the priestess of the earth goddess and not the chief priest of Idemili. Amadioha is one of the gods in the eastern part of Nigeria known for punishing people for offences committed. Thus, the people are usually in fear of him and always in awe of him. The 1st Ichie says – “that is my worry, Ichie Dike. Why has Amadioha, the god of thunder, whose name puts fear in everyone, not scattered Agwudo’s head?” (50). Whether fictional or not, the myths explaining the powers of these gods enshrine the fact that Africans believe so much in their gods. More interestingly, the playwright espouses the ogbanje myth. Ezenwanebe explains the concept of the ogbanje and the people’s reaction to it. In the voice of Egoyibo, she explains that the ogbanje are children “who are born to die to re-enter their mother’s womb to be born to die and continue their vicious cycle of coming and going” (36). The people, however, have a way of stopping the

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ogbanje’s cycle of birth and death and this is how Agbomma is saved and lives as the only child of Egoyibo after three initial pregnancies. The way in which the playwright uses the Ogbanje myth to expatiate the power and sacredness of the gods lends credence to the fact that Ezemuo wants to use them – the gods – to abuse his power. The gods are portrayed as being powerful with varying degrees of power. Thus, people are afraid to offend them without having another strong backing, like the Whiteman’s god. Ironically, Ezemuo in a fit of power drunkenness brings upon himself the destruction he wishes for Egoyibo. This alludes to the biblical law of Karma as well as the maxim that “what goes around comes around.” Proverbs as an element of orality are also variously used in the play. Being characteristically African, Ezenwanebe uses many proverbs in the speeches of most of her characters. In the play, Ezemuo, the chief priest of idemili, uses proverbs in his speech thus: “Ezemuo: when a mad man dances in the market it is his relatives that bear the shame…. A toad does not run in the daytime for nothing.” Ezemuo uses these proverbs to create fear in the mind of Agwudo, whom he has come to tell about the danger of disobeying Agbala Oha’s directives to make Agbomma a priestess. Ezemuo in the proverbs also intends to inform Agwudo that his visit to him is as gravely important as the toad’s play in the daytime. Also, Agwudo while trying to tell Agbomma the god’s decision as related to him by Ezemuo shows his helplessness in the situation when he says “when a man is held by the groins, he follows his tormentor aimlessly like a leaf blown about in the wind” (39). This statement shows the state in which Agwudo is in. Agbomma’s reply lends credence to the fact that youths do not readily understand proverbs because of their limited experience as she takes the proverb at face value and asks him to tell her those holding his groin. While cautioning Egoyibo when she and her friends do not avoid the meeting of the titled men and risk being accused of eavesdropping, Agwudo tells Egoyibo that it is a person who eats a rotten nut that releases a foul fart” (15). He also continues by saying: “whatever firewood you gather with your two hands, you carry it on your own head” (16). On another occasion, Agwudo retorts: “what an elder sees from a sitting position, a young man cannot see even from a roof top” (24). Indeed, proverbs abound in Ezenwanebe’s Shadows on Arrival as characters continually use proverbs to illustrate their messages and one cannot expressly exhaust them like it is inexhaustible in African oratory. Also, the proverbs used in the play show the ways women are denigrated in the Igbo society and the level in which they are placed. This is what the playwright seeks to change by allowing Egoyibo to display the strength in women when she refuses to be oppressed by Ezemuo. Another interesting element of orality in Osita Ezenwanebe’s Shadows on Arrival is the poetry of the primal drum and flute. Ezenwanebe shows this interesting element of orality in the play under review. In the play, the ekwe drum is used to invite the titled men (chiefs) of Umueze to important meetings. The playwright describes the instrument as “the talking ekwe” (9). It is a means of passing information about things gravely important such as the death of an important person or another upcoming event. The whole town

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also hears the instrument and is warned not to go near the meeting place of the men in order not to be accused of eavesdropping. It is in fact after the chiefs have met, that they then go to inform the people about their decision. It is, thus, after this meeting that Agwudo is informed that his daughter has been chosen to be the next priestess of Agbala. This is why the women cannot go to sweep the village square during the meeting and Agbomma and her friends cannot go to the stream at the usual time. The king’s panegyrics are also accompanied by the drum instrument in order for it to serve as a form of entertainment. Also, during the initiation of the new priestess, Ezemuo is followed by a flutist who sings his praises using the flute. This enshrines the idea that Ezidemili is a powerful priest. The element of the primal drum and flute is the means through which the villagers become aware that something important is about to happen. It sets the tone for the progression of the plot of the story and opens the conflict in the play.

Withered Thrust’s indebtedness to orality Set in both urban and rural geographical settings, Ezenwanebe’s Withered Thrust, is the story of Mr. Lucky Peter Echidinma who was murdered by some corrupt cabals set to defraud the bank he worked for. Ironically, Mr. Lucky himself is corrupt and tries to checkmate his bosses only for the cash rewards he hopes to get by assisting the bank in its anti-corruption war. But the cabals are faster than him and kill him before he gets his reward leaving his unemployed wife and young children in limbo. An important element of orality used in the play is folktale or storytelling. Folktales are stories about real or imagined situation and characters. Africans have been known to tell stories by the moonlight. This is displayed in various works of Chinua Achebe. An elderly person gathers children and tells them tales about things. Usually, these tales are meant to be didactic, teaching some moral lessons. They also try to explain the reason or history behind natural happenings. Hence, tales are told about why the tortoise has a broken shell, etc., these tales also vary from culture to culture. In Withered Thrust, the playwright starts the story in-media-res and the actual story is told by the old man – Maazi Nnorom – because it is believed that “elders know everything.” Thus, it is with the character of Maazi Nnorom that the story is told, actions are explained and the plot progresses. Hence, it can be said that, Ezenwanebe has shown her expertise by using a genre of oral literature – folktale – to tell the story in Withered Thrust. The story in the form of a flashback helps the progression of the plot. The play also thrives on the use of funeral dirge as a genre of the occasion specific poetry. In the play, the funeral songs and dirges aside from mourning Mr Lucky Echidinma also paint the pictures of the tragic end that corruption brings to man. Like dirges, the songs philosophise on the nature of death and bemoan the transient nature of life. Mrs. Echidinma also sings some songs to show the troubled and sad state the bereaved can be over the death of a loved one.

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Remember the day of death Everybody, remember the day of death (twice) Which is ordained for every man (twice) The beneficial thing for you is that There is reward for your life …. You’ll leave money (twice) Wealth and things of fashion (twice) The only thing that’ll be of benefit to you, Is only your good deed We are sinners Proudly walking about, Stop in front of a corpse, And see what you’ll be (3–4). The lines above elucidate the idea that death is an inevitable end that will come when it is ordained. It also admonishes the living on the need to be good. This is the nature of funeral songs. In the play, Ezenwanebe is concerned and discusses the subject of the banality of corruption. To her, corruption is not only in government but actually resides in individuals. There is even corruption in the private sector. In the author’s note to the play, the playwright puts it succinctly thus: In a situation where the order of things is twisted, and money, which is meant to be man’s tool to nurture life, now towers above him and turns him into a tool for swelling it bounds, moral decay and from the ruin, corruption erupts as mindless viciousness propelled by selfish greed. Corruption becomes prevalent, cutting across every social strata, polluting motives and deflecting words and deed, leaving only shaft (viii). She is, thus, motivated by a need to project the effects of corruption on individuals. This subject as will be shown is further expatiated via the oral elements the playwright employs. The play opens at the funeral ceremony of Mr. Echidinma with his wife and other mourners led by the chorus singing dirges to mourn his death. The words in the dirge provoke emotion and tears for the nature of the life of man. These songs give the mourners a sense of psychological relief. In the opinion of Gyamfi, “these functions of relief and motivation are perhaps the true essence of sorrow songs” (122). For instance, the chorus sings: Big man in the morning (twice) Corpse in the evening (twice) The king of everyone The food for ants (3). It should be noted that most of the songs are written in the Igbo language by the playwright but were translated into English for wider accessibility.

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This singular act foregrounds Paul Goring’s idea that oral elements are culturally bound. It also emphasises the idea that oral forms predate written forms. These oral forms help to convey the African world view that might not be suitably discussed/explained by the English language. As said earlier, though not set in a strictly rural environment where culture is mostly upheld and orality established, Ezenwanebe’s Withered Thrust parades some important elements of orality. The first element we come across from the beginning of the play and perhaps the most profound is the use of occasion-specific poetry. The occasion-specific poetry used in Withered Thrust is funeral song and chant. There is also the use of proverbs in the play. Characters spice up their speech with proverbs and words of wisdom. Also, the use of proverbs expatiates the author’s note that man brings about his own downfall by “selfish greed.” Maazi Nnorom says: “he that fetches ant-ridden firewood invites the service of stinging Ido ants” (17). Also, chief Badmus says: “our people say it is wiser to stop water when it is at the ankle than wait until it reaches the neck, at which time, drowning is imminent” (27). These proverbs are deep expressions that summarise what the speaker’s intention is. Maazi Nnorom uses the proverb quoted above when he wants to start the story of how Mr. Echidinma brings about his own downfall due to greed. Thus, he is the one that brings ant-ridden firewood and is stung by it. Figuratively, Mr. Echidinma is stung to death by the ants of corruption. In the same vein, chief Badmus’ proverb suggests that the bank wants to nip corruption in the bud before it becomes pervasive and drowns it. Thus, it can be said that proverbs are used to further the progression of the plot of the story.

Conclusion This chapter has attempted to investigate the elements of orality in two plays: Shadows on Arrival and Withered Thrust by Osita Ezenwanebe. Beyond that, it notes the nature of these elements and the purpose they perform in the plays. While doing this, the chapter also examines the definition of orality as well as the elements critics have attributed to it. It also emphasises the idea that orality is culture bound and very dear to the African culture. The article finds that these oral elements can help a writer to expatiate his authorial vision. These oral elements can also provide the basis of the progression of a plot. The article can, thus, be a reference point on orality in African literature specifically in the works of Osita Ezenwanebe.

Works cited Achebe, Chinua. Things Fall Apart. USA: Heinemann Educational Books Ltd, 1985. Reprint. Adu-Gyamfi, Y. Orality in Writing; its Cultural and Political Significance in WoleSoyinka’sOgunAbibiman. Research in African Literatures 33.3, 2002. 104–124, project MUSE. Web. 7 May, 2016. https://muse.jhu.edu/

Orality as a means of projecting authorial vision 177 Akporobaro, F.B.O. Introduction to African Oral Literature. 3rd edition. Lagos: Princeton Publishing Company, 2006. Print. Affiah, Uwem and Ndubuisi Osuagwu. From Orality to Print: An Oraliterary Examination of Efua T. Sutherland’s The Marriage of Anansewa and Femi Osofisan’s Morountodun. Journal of Culture, Society and Development 1, 2013. 55–60. Print Balogun, Lekan. Ritual in Feminism; Feminism in Ritual: Osita Ezenwanebe’s Shadows on Arrival. International Journal of Humanities and Social Science Invention, 2.10, 2013. 30–39. Print Ezenwanebe, Osita. Withered Thrust. Lagos: University of Lagos Press, 2003. Print. Shadows on Arrival. Ibadan: Kraft Books, 2013. Print. Goring, Paul, Hawthorn, Jeremy, and Mitchell Domhnall. Studying Literature. 2nd edition. USA: Bloomsbury Publishing, 2013. Reprint. Gunner, Liz. Africa and Orality in African Literature: An Anthology of Criticism and Theory. Eds. Tejumola Olaniyan and Ato Quayson. USA: Blackwell Publishing, 2007. 67–73. Print. Irele, Abiola. Orality, Literacy and African Literature in African Literature: An Anthology of Criticism and Theory. Eds. Tejumola Olaniyan and Ato Quayson. USA: Blackwell Publishing, 2007. 74–82. Print. Okara, Gabriel. Piano and Drums in West African Verse. Ed Donatus I. Nwoga. Nigeria: Longman, 1966. Print. Ong, Walter.Orality and Literacy: the Technologising of the Word. London: Methuen, 1982. Print.

13 The urban woman in an urban space A study of selected plays of Chidinma Daniel-Inim Kehinde Samuel Olukayode Introduction When readers are faced with a critical work whose title bears the notions of gender and womanhood, many readers assume that such a work must be about feminism. To be sure, there are aspects of feminism that are irrelevant in the African space even when gender issues are involved. In that regard, this chapter critiques Chidinma Daniel’s Deacon Dick, Married and Single and King Daybreak of Etioba based on three objectives: to investigate the concept of individual “survivalism” of women, to explore the attitude of the playwright to women and issues affecting women and to investigate the representation of women characters within the context of the plays. A brief explication of the operational terms constitutes the first part of the work. In the second part, I argue that, as a more central role than the apparent feminist undertone in Chidinma Daniel’s dramaturgy, the playwright’s creative venture is characterised by the quest for survival. To be considered a feminist movement for the survival of women, such a quest must progress from an individual engagement to a humanist state. This individual engagement has been termed “individual survivalism,” a term first used by Julius Adeoye (2013) in his thesis. However, in a bid to further engage this concept, this study promotes the view that, rather than being in a gender battle, the women in the selected plays are engaged in a quest for individual survival – self-reliance for herself and her children. In this regard, an attempt is made to explicate the concepts of individual survivalism and the urban woman as a progressive agent in relation to motherhood and to underscore women’s struggle for survival and social justice.

The survival generation It is important to state that Chidinma Daniel belongs to what can be regarded as the third-generation of dramatists in Africa, whose ideological engagement is not on nationalism or mythopoesis. The third-generation of literary artists engages not in revolutionary aesthetics but in “individual survivalism” explicitly marks out their literary creations from previous generations. In addition to

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their primary preoccupation, they engage concurrently with the consequential issues confronting the post-colonial transitional states in Africa. The ideology of the Nigerian third-generation dramatists is an attempt to survive in a conflict-ridden society. As noted by Julius Adeoye, “individual survivalism” could be regarded as the strategy and subculture of individuals or groups anticipating and preparing for future possible disruptions in the local, regional, national or international socio-political order. In this chapter, I wish to expand upon this definition by including the issue of choice. Choice making could, therefore, be regarded as a strategy for survival, since humans are essentially products of their choices, which affect them not only as individuals but as a society. Most of the third-generation dramatists began their careers in the 1980s as a form of experimentation. However, by the late 1990s, their ideas had evolved into a distinctly established concept. Most of the issues the dramatists engage in, which are within the socio-political context, emancipation and individual survival strategies. The notable female playwrights in the generation are Onyeka Iwuchukwu, Osita Ezenwanebe, Tosin Tume, Adedina Adebunmi, Fasoranti Abiola Olubunmi and Bosede Afolayan who has written plays such as Look back in Gratitude and Once upon an Elephant. The collective enterprise of these female writers, in addition to the theme of survival articulated in the form of emancipation (material, economic, political and educational), principally seeks to highlight the role of women in societal re-construction. Similarly, the male playwrights who have distinguished themselves within this generation include Hope Eghagha, Ogunfeyimi Leke, Bode Ojoniyi and Lekan Balogun. The classification has nothing to do with age but the time of writing. Praise Chidima Daniel-Inim holds a PhD in Theatre Arts from Igbinedion University, Okada, where she teaches. She holds an MA in Drama and BA (Hons) in English & Literary Studies from Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria and University of Calabar, respectively. As a scholar, she has published on local and international platforms and as a playwright, she has published several plays including Tears in Marriage, King Daybreak of Etioba, Deacon Dick, Married and Single, Ebiere My Love and Wrong Foundation. Within the theatrical circle, she has also engaged in the production of some home videos. At present, she is studying Law and her scholarly works are primarily focused on discourses on gender and media. For two reasons – the first of which has already been stated – this chapter does not interrogate Chidinma Daniel’s creative space from a feminist perspective but form the individual struggles of the female characters in her selected works. Unlike prose, which, to a greater degree, could be seen as originating from the west, the dramatic genre could be said to have originated in Africa in African religious worship. On this, Iyorwere Hagher argues that the African theatre is closely connected to the concept of culture, which accounts for the ritual regalia existing (without any contradiction) in a production, as seen in Tears in Marriage. The point here is that the African worldview and metaphysics affords (perhaps offers) the African dramatist a reality that is

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“incomprehensible” to the western critic. Hagher further opines that when the western (including African) critic was confronted with the metamorphosis, it was realised that the western critic might have to accept a different set of criteria if he or she comes to terms with African drama and understand it. Furthermore, the cloth of African festivals is woven and dyed with several threads and colours of the multi-ethnic groupings that exist in African society. Each thread and colour is a cluster of many cultures, each having a peculiar form of traditional performance and each imbued with oral tradition, which cannot be accounted for by the principles of feminism. Conceptual definitions The urban woman: This refers to a person of the female sex who lives in a town or city. There is a difference between an “urban” and a “traditional” woman. “Urban” captures modernity while “traditional” captures indigenous and (or) rural life. It is my argument that regardless of some evidence of traditional elements in the play, the women characters in the plays are urbanised in both ideology and outlook. Individual survivalism: This refers to the strategy of self-reliance. As Julius Adeoye submits, it refers to the strategies and subculture of individuals anticipating and preparing for future possible disruptions in local and regional social justice. However, I also engage this concept further to encapsulate the choice process of an individual. In this chapter, individual survivalism refers to the choices, strategies and subculture of an individual set in motion with the sole aim of survival and self-reliance – be it socially, culturally, economically, politically or even religiously. Following Soyinka’s (16)suggestion, “the writer must for the moment at least be persuaded to postpone that unique reflection on experience and events, which is what makes a writer and constitutes himself into a part of that machinery that will actually shape events.” As such, Chidinma’s dramaturgy captures these two positions. On the one hand, her plays are tools for social reformation and reconstruction that shape the events and experiences of women as individuals and as foot soldiers of feminism. On the other hand, it is a reflection on experience, whether personal or public. The writer takes her space as a privileged female playwright who is placed above the narrow-minded vision of a feminist-ridden orientation. Her works assume a deeper and more concerted level that presents her as an individual who needs to survive in a conflict-ridden post-colonial milieu. Consequently, as unequivocally demonstrated in her creative endeavours, the playwright argues that the female, as against the male, is also engaged in a quest for survival.

The notion of motherhood In this section, I explain the notion of motherhood in King Daybreak of Etioba, Deacon Dick and Married and Single. To this end, “motherhood” refers to a state or condition of being a mother. This is one of the central thematic voices

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that run through the playwright’s creative enterprise. However, the notion of motherhood is not limited to sexual reproduction but extends to how women survive as individuals in an urban space. Moreover, what constitutes the joy of motherhood differs in societies across the world. Little wonder that there seems to be a bit of rush for the rite of passage, which in most times is laced with serious landmines unknown to many. Certainly, the (West) African tradition is one characterised by such a rite of passage. Married but Single maps the evolution of Uwa, who is married but does not enjoy the benefits of the union, given that her lawyer husband (Seth) contributes little or nothing to the family welfare. The writer, thus, suggests that women should also fend for themselves and be empowered. Deeming marriage to be a criterion for measuring a woman’s success, in the opinion of the playwright, might be misleading since primacy ought to be given to a woman’s personal development. However, the playwright does not completely relegate the institution of marriage, as she celebrates it in her other plays, particularly in Ebiere my lover and King Daybreak of Etioba. Married but Single portrays Uwa’s travail as a married but single mother who is determined to survive either with an underemployed husband or on her own. Uwa tries to save herself and her family from the shame of a possible eviction by their landlord. Her effort to save her family is first a selfish and an individualistic intention geared towards saving herself from the shame of homeless. UWA:  Madam please, at least consider my children. MADAM HEMEHE:  You too consider my own children.

You keep talking as if I don’t have children to be considered too. UWA:  No, it’s not that, please. MADAM HEMEHE:  You are a woman like me? Go and struggle and build a house and rent. UWA:  I know it is painful. But, please just a little time to find an alternative. (12) Evidently, the playwright tries to point out that motherhood is a determining factor for justifying both the actions of the female characters and what is ideal of a mother who loves and wants to protect her children. The communal sense in Africa is not only restricted to the economic context but also extends to the social aspect of motherhood. I submit that motherhood is a “cult” and a woman is initiated into it at childbirth, with the travails of childbirth as the rite of passage; hence, the general belief that the circle of motherhood is not only limited to the private space (woman’s home) but also to the public space (society). Since caring for children in the African society would not be considered the exclusive role of the biological mother, women could generally be seen caring for and protecting children who are not biologically theirs. This, in itself is selfless. This notion of the “communal ownership” of children is reflected in Deacon Dick (2013), a play that accounts for man’s fickleness and its consequences, as portrayed in the character of Deacon Dick, who uses his position

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in the church to take advantage of young female members. The play also affirms that marriage should be an act not be a battleground but a union that must be enjoyed and equally beneficial to the parties involved, as exemplified in Eunice’s marriage to Deacon Dick and in her subsequent marriage. Furthermore, the writer highlights the inevitability of nemesis; to put it differently, what goes around comes around. The notion of motherhood can be seen when Mama Chinyere’s friend, Mama Ijeoma, registers her concerns and observations about Chinyere: MAMA IJEOMA:  …

let’s talk about something more profiting. How is your

daughter? MAMA CHINYERE:  Very

fine. The God of widows is helping us very well. Though she was feeling a bit sick when I left her. MAMA IJEOMA:  It is always like that now. Encourage her to eat well. (20) Furthermore, as noted in King Daybreak of Etioba, it is important to underscore the fact that the playwright is unapologetic about her religious philosophy. The play is an adaptation or a “write forward” to the story of the Judeo-Christian King Solomon, whereby two women sleep in a room with their babies and one of the babies is killed. Chidinma’s dramaturgy extends the frontiers of the story and opens up the readers to the development of the boy from childhood to adulthood in an African setting. The playwright stresses the Judeo-Christian belief of “forgiveness,” stating that no matter the sin committed by a person, there is still room for forgiveness from God, as in the case of Peninnah who later gives her life to Christ. However, she does not disregard the traditional belief system. The notion of motherhood is also depicted in the play during the fight between Hannah and Peninnah over Hannah’s son, Charley Boy, as agreed during their witchcraft meeting: PENINNAH:  Your son is for the pot today. HANNAH:  God forbid! Give me my son. PENINNAH:  No. I will not give him to you. He is to be sacrificed today HANNAH:  I reject that in Jesus’ name. PENINNAH:  Reject all you want. All I know is that we are going to drink

his blood today. HANNAH:  I told you that I have given my life to Christ KING DAYBREAK:  Is it true? PENINNAH:  Yes, your highness. KING DAYBREAK:  Where were you taking him to and why? PENINNAH:  Last year, we agreed and ate my own child and we agreed that this year, we would eat her own. Just as it is nearing the time, she leaves our group, now claiming that she is born again. (1– 4) The above conversation shows the extent some mothers can go to protect their children. It also points to Hannah’s strategy for survival, as her exit from

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the group is a strategy set in motion to protect her son. This strategy can be described as an act of transgression – an act that is done with sole aim of survival. In addition to the above, the playwright elevates her female characters from their culturally and socially assigned conventional duties to a more superior position as kings or regents and as priests as noted in King Daybreaker of Etioba: QUEEN MOTHER: Our

ancestors, you have always protected us. From the hands of our enemies. You were with my husband when he was alive until that wicked witch took his life. I know it does not show that you failed. It just showed the wickedness of man. You have been with me this past ten years and now my son is matured enough to handle the throne that is why I have brought him to this sacred shrine for his protection. The eyes of our enemies are too much on him. So, our ancestors please guide and protect him….

…. QUEEN MOTHER: 

… the last time I witnessed this in Etioba was twenty years ago, when my husband the last Edidem-Ikpa was coronated. As you are all aware, I ascended the throne because of my husband’s unexpected and untimely death. (12)

Women as progressive agents for social justice As established in the previous section, transgression is one of the strategies for survival used by the female characters in the selected plays. Since the female characters are all in a quest for their own survival, the playwright casts doubt on the notion that marriage is the mark of success for females as against their self-development and survival. Consequently, my primary aim in this section is to also examine the female characters in the selected plays as progressive agents. “Progressive” refers to the state of something happening or developing gradually or in stages. As such, understanding how the females progress from their challenges to finding their feet in the society, as well as how this progress aids or leads to social justice, constitutes a central preoccupation. It is noteworthy to state clearly that our engagement of progress does not mean the progress must always end in victory; no always. What I mean by progress is how they are able to handle or overcome – not in totality – basically effort or step made towards finding a lasting solution to the challenges they are faced with be it social, economic or even emotional. In Deacon Dick, Eunice can be seen as a progressive agent as depicted in the play. She is seen surmounting the bitter experience of her marriage to Deacon Dick that was characterised with domestic violence, unfaithfulness and emotional blackmail. She moves on to another marriage where her joy was fulfilled. She notes:

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Eunice: …. I was forced out of my matrimonial home since I was unable to conceive after ten years. Surprisingly, I re-married and gave birth to not only one child but three children to my husband. So far, what I witnessed about in this court today was all I know and so what the problem was about our childlessness remains a mystery till today. (37) The playwright seeks to pass two messages here. The first is that divorce is not a bad idea when the marriage is not enjoyed or it is crisis ridden, most importantly when it is characterised by domestic violence and infidelity as stated above. The second is that life itself is in progressive sequences – it stretches from birth to death and rebirth (the traditional African view of life). As such, human beings (in this case, women) must at always seek to progress, no matter the challenges they face. This is also an underlying thematic preoccupation in Chidinma’s dramaturgy, which is regardless of the challenges, it is expedient that women look forward to better and brighter days ahead and not relegating their dreams and aspiration for men. She also engages this in her play King Daybreak of Etioba wherein she depicts the characters Queen Mother, Hannah and Sylvia as “progressives” who seek their own advancement and that of the culture and tradition of their people. This is the case of Queen Mother, who, in fulfilling the late king’s last wish as stated in his will, agrees – after the coronation of her own biological son: BARRISTER JUSTICE: I

am Barrister Justice, of David of Chambers, Lagos. My late father was king Daybreak’s Lawyer. He died some months ago. KING SOLOMON:  You can see that nobody is ready to sympathize with you. BARRISTER JUSTICE:  While searching for a document in our chambers a few days ago, I stumbled on a will, the will my father wrote for the late King. KING SOLOMON:  I am the only son in the royal family, so nothing new can be in that will. BARRISTER JUSTICE:  On the contrary, there is. KING SOLOMON: What? BARRISTER JUSTICE:  The will says: if after twenty years, there is still no male descendant in the royal family, then the adopted son…. (p. 72) …. QUEEN MOTHER:  The

will of the gods must be done. It is like it is that boy’s destiny to rule Etioba now. (73)

From the long excerpt above, we can deduce that the queen mother accepted and allow the law to take is cause, as a result justice was served. Additionally, in the case of Hannah, who forgives her friend Peninnah for all her wicked

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acts. This act of forgiveness mark her progress from the point of bitterness to a point happiness and joy: PENINNAH:  Please,

I would like you to take me to Hannah’s house I need to forgive her completely.

…. HANNAH: It

is alright. We have forgiven you, so forgive us and yourself

too. (53) In Married but Single, Uwa can be identified as a progressive agent. She ends her marriage with her husband Seth, who is unable to provide for his family and left his wife and children in a state of discomfort and helpless: UWA:  What are you doing here? SETH:  I have returned home.

…. Seth:  We are still married UWA:  You and who? You left and told me I would come begging you, who is here now? UWA:  Seth, Satan or whatever you call yourself, my house, my life, my career cannot accommodate you anymore (48) From the above, the progress of Uwa as an individual from financial struggle to liberty and from a space of martial discomfort to a space of individual comfort is noteworthy. As started earlier that the playwright made great effort to clarify the wrong notion that a woman cannot succeed outside marriage. As such, with Uwa she further clarifies this, as she places Uwa at the centre of the conflict.

Conclusion This study has addressed the concept of “individual survivalism” as espoused by Adeoye to examine the selected plays of Chidinma Daniel-Inim. It establishes the concept of individual survivalism as strategies put in place by women for self-reliance and coping with challenges in relation to their choices as individuals in an urban society. It has been argued here that, asides the feminist undertone in Chidinma’s creative space, the playwright is mainly concerned about the individual’s development and progress of women in the 21st Century urban space. As a third-generation dramatist, she tries to establish the fact that women too can contribute to the social, political and economic development of not only their families but also the society at large. In her works, she places her female characters in serious crises and conflict and, thus, we are able to see how these female characters handle the conflicts in the end.

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However, the playwright needs to avoid her dramatic space being regarded as a slaughter space for men, as she appears to always depict her male characters in bad light. Hence, there is the need to balance her male depictions for a realistic and objective view.

Works cited Daniel-Inim, Praise Chidinma. King Daybreaker of Etioba. Ibadan: NelPhil, 2015. Print. “ Married but Single and other Plays.” Daniel-Inim, Praise C. Married but Single. Sango, Ibadan: Kraftgriots, 2013. 9–55. Print. Deacon Dick. Sango, Ibadan: Kraftgriots, 2013. Print. Hagher, Iyorwere. “The Aesthetic problem in the criticism of African Drama.” Ufahamu: A Journal of African Studies, vol. 10. 1981. Jays, Julius-Adeoye‘Rantimi. The Drama of Ahmed Yerima: Studies in Nigeria Theatre. Ph.D. Thesis. Australia: Leiden University, 2013. Web. Soyinka, Wole. Art, Dialogue and Outrage; Essays on Literature and Culture. Great Britain: New Horn Press, 1988. Print.

Index

Abiyamo 156, 160, 163, Acculturation 135 Acholonu, Catherine 11 Aesthetics 170 Adaptation 10, 105, 105, 115 Adaugo 128, 130, 131, 135, 136 Adedina, Bunmi 11 Adejobi, Oyin 1 Adeoti, Gbemisola 11 Adeoye, Julius 11 Adeyemi Kunle 10 Adichie, Amanda 11 Advocacy 130, 131 Afolayan, Bosede 9, Ademilua-Afolayan Bosede 10, 105, 107, 114, 115, 124, Look Back in Gratitude: 10, 120, 121, 124, 125, 126, 135, 137 Afenifere 66 Africa: African 121, African mask performance 76; African women 121, 126 155, 157, 158, 160, 162, 165; African female writers 121 Aggression 110 Agunloye- Salami, Irene 4, 8, 9 Ajanaku 125, 126, 132, 133, 134 Aidoo, Ama Ata 1, 8, 120, 24 Ailments 77, 79, 83 Akpabio, Uduak 11 Alimi, Nurayn 7, 13 Amadiume, Ifi 1 Amazon 17 Anthropology 120 Apprenticeship 135 Appropriation 106 Arewa 66 Aristotle, Poetics 9, 92 Atta, Sefi 4, 9, 64, 71, 90 Attributive meaning 135

Ausbeth-Ajagu, Anuli Ayeni-Tzevende, Bose 11 Babalawo, Dibia 85 Balogun, Lekan 10 Barrenness 11 Belief system 124 Bello, Saheed 10 Bongani 83–84 Brechtian 35 Bridal chants 170 Bride wealth 112 Bubonic plague 80 Burukutu 74 Chants, hunters 170 Chemotherapy 77, 79 Children: 155, 157, 158; Child trafficking 121; child bearing and nurturing 3 Chuma-Udeh, Ngozi 11 Clark, Ebun 1 Clark, JP-Bekederemo 2, 4, 13, 24, 65 Cleansing ritual 85 Code switching 135, 137 Collective transgression 80; collective and community 80 Colour identities 121 Colour, woman of 64 Communal behaviour, interactions 123 Communal regeneration 86 Communal structure 124 Communal will 76 Communality 86 Communicative code, behaviour 123 Concealment, of conventions 80 Contemporary literature 121 Corruption 87 Conversational dominance 128 Conspiracy of silence 140, 145, 149, 149, 153

188  Index Countries, third world 31 Creation myths 171 Customs, culture 120, 123, 133, 134 Cultural values, exchanges, practices 121–125, 134–135, 137 Daniel-Inim, Chidinma 11 Dehumanisation 77, 79 De-mythicisation 79 Deprivation 107, 108 Dialogue 125, 132 Discourse Analysis 124 Disequilibrium 115 Divorcees 95 Diversity 9 Domestic themes: 3; domestic violence 10, 11, 64, 141,145, 149, domestic conflict; 121, 122 Dominance 120, 125 Drama: 120, 155, 159, 165; African 14, dramatic production; dramaturgy 3, 9, 120, 124, 126, 135, African theatre; 13, dramatist, the art; 91, dramatists; 120, dramatic irony 126, dramatic imagination; 133, dramatization; 131, transformative dramatic idioms 24 Ego 42, 43 Elegbede, Adebusola 11 Emerging playwrights 120, 137 Endemic exploitation 78 Engagement, the 90 Enuani 17 Ethnic identities 137 Ethnographic 138 Ethnography of communication 120, 123 Ethnography of speaking 123 Euripides, The Bacchae 10 Evwierhoma, Mabel 1, 2, 5, Experimental 29 Experiential 29 Exploitation 78 Existential issues 25 Ezeigbo,- Adimora Akachi; 1, 2, 3, 4, 11, Snail-sense feminism 64 Ezewanebe, Osita 10, 11, 120, 122, 124, 129, 131, 135, 137 Fate 106 Female bonding 96 Female drama in Nigeria: 9; Female dramatists; 121, Female voices; 121,

127, female Nigerian dramatist and matriarch of Nigerian theatre; 27 Femme fatale 21 Female image 54 Female question 2 Female genital mutilation 9, circumcision 121 Feminine ideas and ideologies: 2; feminism 9; feminist ideology 64, 76, 79; feminist theory 76; radical feminism 64, 155; feminist 140, 141, 150, 151, 153; female assertiveness, 121; female emancipation 121; militant feminism 76, 77; feminist reading 27; feminist vision 28 Flora Nwapa 120 Fidelity criticism 106 Folktale 174, folklore 106 Freewill 106 Funeral dirge 179 Gender: 120–125, 178; discrimination 5; transnational 9; relations 125, 127; education 124; constancy 124; equality 121; stereotypes 131; construct 131; discourse 124; roles 124–126, 130, 135; codes 121; conflict 130; speech patterns 127; gender differences 124; differentiation 135; gendered beings 124 Genre, female 25, 26 Global North 29, North/ south polarisation 29 Girl-Child Education 121 Group identification 122 Henshaw, Ene 26 HIV/AIDS 9, 76, 77, 78, 81–84, 87, 121 Hazel auf Zamfara (The Sentence) 71 Hudson-Weems Carole 120, 121 Hussaini, Safiya 71 Hutchison, Yvette 71 Ibsen, Henrik, A Doll’s House 97 Id 42, 43 Identity 126 Ideological mass mobilisation 77 Idioms 133, 134 Illness 78–81 ILO (International Labour Organisation) 30 Immunological defenses 79, 80 Individual survivalism 179

Index 189 Ifa, corpus 10, 156, 157 Igbo: 121, 122, 135; Igbo-English; 137, patrimonial nouns 136, salutation 136 Inclusiveness 126 Interactional patterns 124 Intertextuality 10 Ijelodo 134 Ire-oma 64 Iwuchukwu, Onyeka 6, 11 Iya 10, 155–157, 159, 160–165 Iya Agba 125–128, 132, 134–135 Iya Egbe 1 Iyale 122, 126–128 Iyalode 1 Iyaloja 1 Jallo, Zainabu 10, 140, 141 Jegede 121 Kleptocratic ruling elites 31 Kingship, norms132, ritual 132, 136 Kolanut 136 Ladies Who Launch, LWL 95, 96 Ladipo, Duro1 Language: 120, 122, 124; practices 124 Liberation 24 Linguistic resources 122 Lawal, Amina 71 Lawal, Mulikah 11 Leviration 110, 112, 113 Literature 122, 137 Love, a little bit of 83 Marginalisation 3 Makerere University 83 Male child preference 9 Malfeasance 87 Male: domination 121; see also patriarchy, dramatists 5, 120; ego 130; speech 128; protagonist 127 Mandela, Nelson 81–83 Marriage: child 9, marriage 143, 144, 145, 147, 147, 148, 149, 150, 153 marital infidelity 11, 93, 94, marital crisis, 121, Materialist interpretation 25 Matzke, Christine 71 Mbeki, Thabo 81–83 Medieval concept of tragedy 105 Metaphor: 79, 87; metaphoric genealogy 77; military metaphor; 76–77, 79

Metropole 31 Mobilisation 76–79 Modern Drama 122 Monologue 71 Morality: 8, 40, 42, 44, 50, 51, 106, 108, 109; moral judgement 86 Mothers: 10; single mothers; 95, motherhood; 181, motherism; 64, maternal instinct; 127 Misandry 140, 141, 149, 150 Mule, Kitiwa 8 Multicultural gender 76 Mythology 79, 106 Narrative diegetic 34 Ndigbo 66 Nego-feminism 64 Neo-Platonic love 106 New Toyi Toyi 76, 78, 84–87 Ngcobo 10 Nigeria: 13; northern 10; south 10; nation and independence; 66 Nigerian drama: 54; male-centred Nigerian dramas 27 Nigerian female dramatists 1, 3, 5, 6, Nigerian women 64 Norms 107 Not that Woman 140, 145, 150, 151, 152, 153 No Vacancy! 25, 32, 33, 35 Nnamani, Oby 11 Nwapa, Flora Obafemi, Olu 9, 26 Obsolete 110, 111, 112 Odejimi 126, 128, 129, 132 Ogundele 132 Ogunjimi 132 Okonjo-Ogunyemi 121 Olajubu 10 Olaifa, Tope 11 Olaiya, Moses 1 Olubori rites 132 Olufunwa, Harry 95 Olukayode, Samuel Kehinde 11 Oluwole, Adunni 2 Ogochukwu, Promise 11 Ogun 1, 171 Ogunbiyi, Yemi 2, 26, 65, Ogunde, Hubert 1 Ogunleye, Foluke 11 Ogunrinde, Folashayo 11 Ogunshola, Ishola 1

190  Index Ogunyemi, Wale 26 Okafor, Chinyere 4, 9 Okekearu, Jane-Frances 11 Okoh, Julie 4, 6, 9, 64 Okweshie, Queen Ijeoma 11 Omoluabi: 8, 42, 43, 45; Omoluabisuperego; 44–48 Omotosho, Kole 9, 26 Onions Make us Cry 140, 141, 145, 150, 153 Onunu ojo 18 Onunu oma 18 Onwueme, Tess: 4, 5, 8, 24; oeuvre 24; stage 34; dramaturgy 25; revolutionary theatre; 29 Onyewadume, Felicia 11 Oppression: 120 125; oppressed 24; oppressive situations 24 Orality: 11, 167, 171, 174, 176; oral features 167, 171; oral elements 168, 176 Orthodoxy 117 Osborne John 10; Look Back in Anger Osofisan, Femi 9, 13, 19, 32 Osun 1 Osundare, Niyi 33 Oya 1 Oyedepo, Stella 4, 8 Outside children 95 Onwueme, Tess 120 Oyewumi, Oyeronke 1, 96 Patriarchy: 1, 108, 109; male dominated; 1, patriarchal values; 62, 103; patriarchal; 140, 145, 148, 151–152 Performative space 29 Periphery 31 Personal identity 123, 124 Pidgin 137 Plastow, Jane 71 Playwrights 125, 133, 135, 137, 138 Plaque 80 Poetry, praise: 169, 172; poet-persona 77 Political activism 127 Political dramaturgy 126 Popoola, Olumide 11 Postcolonial literary expression 77; postcolonial national theatre 26 Power relations 124, 129 Precarity: 8, 24, 25 31, 32, 33; precariat consciousness 33; idioms of precarity 24; politics of precarity 25 Pregnancy, early 9

Proverbs 133–134 Psychoanalysis: 42, 44; psychological pressure, variables, of oppression; 108, 107, 112, 113, psychotherapy 79 Publication 6 Radical mastectomy 79 Rape 84, 85 Ranco, Funmilayo 2 Renovation 90 Representation 52 Restiveness, Youth 10, 107, 108 Rights and freedom of women 5 Rites, widowhood 9 Rituals: 76, 123, 124, 125, 133, 135, 136; practices 125; processes 132; scene 125; ritual heritage; 109 Role identity 123 Rotimi, Ola 2, 4, 14, 65, 69, 24 Salutation 134 Sango 1 Sangoma 85 Sentence, the 71, 74 Separation 93 Serubawon 129, 132, 134, 135 Sex 125, roles 125, Sexes 121, 125, 128, 130 Shadows on Arrival 167 Shakespeare, William 10, 105, 106, 109, 117 Shared values 124 Shaw, George Bernard 69 Shodipe, Mojisola 10 Sisterhood 96 Siphithemba Choir 82 Social: behaviour 123; condition 131; groups 123; order 124 125, 127; practices 123; pressure 124; processes 120; roles 123; setting 125; structure 123; social context 107, 108, 109 Social disequilibrium 107, 108 Socialization 123, 124, 131 Social mobility 107, 108 Society, norms 124 Sociolinguistics 120, 122, 123, 136, 138 Socio-political, activism 127, issues 135, 137 Sofola, Zulu: 2, 3, 4, 10, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 65, 105, 107, 108, 109, 111, 113, 117, 120, 24 Solidarity 122 Songs 69, 71 Sontag 76, 77

Index 191 Sowande, Bode 26 Speaking, ways of 128, 133 Soyinka, Wole: 2, 3, 4, 7, 10, 13, 65, 24; Nobel prize for literature (in 1986) 27 Star-cross’d lovers 109 Speech, acts theory 124, community 123,124, patterns 124,135 Stage directions 125, 135 Standpoint theory 123 Stereotypes 131 STIWANISM 64 Superego 8, 42–45, 47–48 Sutherland, Efua 8, 170 Swaziland 80 Symbolic, interaction 123–4, representation 127 Systems of culture 123 Tradition 107, and custom 108, 110 Traditional, Nigerian societies: 1, 3, 155–158, 165; communities 158, 161, 163, 165; practices 132; traditional value system 109, 110 Travelling theatre troupes 1 Trickster Tale 170 Tume, Tosin 10, 140, 145 Turn taking 128 Ubuntu 82 Udoka, Pamela 11

Uganda 82 Umukoro, Julie 11 Undegwu, Ngozi 3 Utoh-Ezeajugh, Tracie 11 Urban space, woman 11, 179 Urban livelihood 136 Verbal, aggressiveness: 125, 128; confrontation 135; exchanges 129 Vesicovaginal fistula VVF 67 Violence: 115, 116; violent temper; 115, 116, 117, 118 Vision, author’s 11, 167, 171, 172 Walker, Alice 121 Waler Reed Project 83 Wedlock of the Gods 14, 18, 105–110, 113, 117 Withered Thrust 167 Women: 1, 155–158, 160–162, 165; women writers 2; womanhood 120, 121; playwrights 120; rights 120, 121; writings 121 Womanism: 52, 64; Africana womanism 121; perspective 121 Yemoja 1 Yoruba: 1, 42–43, 66, 121, 135, 155–159, 162, 163, 165; Yoruba-English 136 Zuma, Jacob 82, 85