INTRODUCTION
In this unit, we will study another aspect of Nigerian literature which has to do with the use of pidgin or special English forms. In the process of domestication of English or in the process of creation of literatures that should serve the purpose of reaching the educated and the uneducated, some Nigerian writers have used Pidgin English or Special English forms in their literary works. Ken Saro Wiwa called the English language he used in his novel Sozaboy, ‘Rotten English’. Some other writers, especially poets, have used Pidgin English completely in their works. We shall examine this special English forms as used in some Nigerian literatures.
3.1 General Overview
It is a general belief by some Nigerian writers that Pidgin language provides an appropriate medium for the exploitation of oral traditions in literature, for it acts as a bridge between the orality of verbal communication and the formality of the written word. For instance, Nigerian Pidgin poetry is constructed as part of this utilization of oral resources, which has revitalized the literary scene and the poetic tradition. However, the development and utilization of Pidgin as a language medium in Nigerian poetry owes its manifestation to the reality of its profuse use along the coast and also in the hinterland, where the indigenous Nigerian languages predominate.
All the same, the origin of Nigerian Pidgin has been stated in a pioneering study as "essentially a product of the process of urbanization, while its origins lie historically in the early contacts between Africans and Europeans. The rapidly growing towns of Nigeria have increasingly become the melting pots of the many tribes and races which constitute Nigeria, and Pidgin seems to be today a very widely spoken lingua franca, many town and city dwellers being at least bilingual, in Pidgin and an indigenous language" (Mafeni, 98). Similarly, a later study which examines the origins of Nigerian Pidgin confirms that it "arose from the urgent communication needs of the contact between the visiting Europeans (in the end the English) and their multi-lingual Nigerian hosts. Stabilization of this contact led to the stabilization and expansion of Nigerian Pidgin (NP)" (Elugbe and Omamor, 21). These assertions emphasize the prevalent view discernible in the definition of Pidgin as a "communication system that develops among people who do not share a common language. In early stages of contact, such as the first encounters between British sailors and coastal West Africans or between American soldiers and the Vietnamese, a make-shift system emerges involving a few simple structures - mostly commands - and a limited number of words, drawn almost entirely from the language of the dominant group" (Todd, 3). Although the issues of domination and its appendage, exploitation, provided a political focus in the areas in which Pidgin was a medium of communication, the development of the language was affected by several other socio-cultural factors.
The most prominent socio-cultural factor was the fact that Pidgin was associated with a lower social status, which aided in the social stratification of the people who use it. This feeling of contempt was originally informed by a false sense of racial superiority, which has now been replaced by a misdirected sense of elitist superiority. Pidgin has made a noticeable linguistic advance in spite of the stigma that has often been attached to its use, especially in elitist circles. Although some educationists and other literates still snobbishly and hypocritically condemn the use of Pidgin, claiming that it leads children to make a poor use of the 'Queen's English, ' it is true that among the people in the Anglophone region and for quite a sizeable number in the francophone zone, Pidgin is the main linguistic medium of communication. Nevertheless, the existence and development of Pidgin are the result of its own internal dynamics, and this internal dynamism of Nigerian Pidgin particularly has been aided in recent times by the production of works of literature in Pidgin and also by the arguments of critics who have found either merit in such works or possibilities in the language.
Some critics believe that Pidgin is a "practical, viable, flexible language distilled in the alembic of our native sensibility and human experience. This lusty language, which transcends our geographical and political boundaries grows daily before our eyes. It is our natural, unifying weapon against the divisive forces of English. It is believed that the adoption of Pidgin will automatically make the writer national by domesticating his outlook and sensibility and on adopting Pidgin and becoming a real nationalist the Nigerian writer can now speak with the knowledge of an insider (35), although Osofisan takes exception when he argues that "the use of Pidgin cannot automatically make any writer patriotic or progressive; that will depend finally on other factors, such as the consciousness and purpose of the particular artist" (Osofisan, 43). However, he agrees that Pidgin is a viable language and capable of sustaining works of literature.
It is clearly this capability of Pidgin to sustain works of literature - since it is a language that bridges orality, a language that absorbs several cultural elements as it communicates - which has made it yield creative possibilities for the Nigerian writers. However, a stress on Pidgin poetry in this study does not mean that it is only in poetry that the Pidgin language has been utilized. Although in the works of the popular Onitsha market literature there is no indication of a sustained use of Pidgin as a language of creative communication, Emmanuel Obiechina points out that "some authors make their illiterate or semi-literate characters speak in West African Pidgin English. Sometimes they take pains to explain such idiosyncratic usages in their prefaces" (Obiechina, 86). But the later works that emerged after the literary outburst of the Onitsha market literature indicated artistic dimensions to the use of Pidgin in Nigerian literature.
SELF-ASSESSMENT EXERCISE 1
Discuss the importance of Pidgin English in Nigerian literature.
3.2 Pidgin/Special English in Nigerian Novel
Nigerian novelists have been in the lead in terms of experimentation with English language in their works. There are handfuls of Nigerian novels written in either Pidgin English or special English form. In this sub unit, we will use two novels for the study. Interestingly, both of them are war novels written about two decades apart and by an old and a younger writer: Ken Saro Wiwa’s Sozaboy (1985) and Uzodinma Iweala's Beasts of No Nation (2005). The English language forms used in both novels seem alike except some syntactic and lexical differences. Ken Saro-Wiwa called the English use in Sozaboy, rotten. However, the English used in Beast of No Nation has no such tagging but we choose to tag it special English form because there are mixtures of Standard English and Pidgin English in the narration.
1. Ken Saro-Wiwa’s Sozaboy (1985) [Rotten English]
The plot of Saro-Wiwa’s civil war novel, Sozaboy (1984) revolves round the young hero whose real name is “Mene”. In this novel, the emphasis is not on action, but on character. It is not the events, but the man that makes the events possible. Attracted by fine uniforms, glittering buttons, and the glamorized life of a soldier, Mene yields to his young wife’s pressure to join in a war he knows nothing about. He becomes so confused that he ends up fighting unwittingly on both sides of the conflict without noticing any difference between the two. His metamorphosis from an apprentice-driver into a “sozaboy” (soldier- boy) marks a significant phase in the development of his character and life. He undergoes a physical, as well as a spiritual journey and plies the route from innocence to maturity. Because he is constantly on the road and because of his garrulous nature, he sees everything and tells us everything he knows about the two sides of the conflict. The journey motif is symbolically linked with the quest motif in the story. The quest motif manifests in various ways: the quest for manhood which is also linked with the quest to become a combatant soldier. His perception develops gradually, with each experience, each incident, each encounter, each trip, helping him to gain a clearer insight into the true nature of things. Along the line, he marries a young beautiful city-wise Lagos girl whose beauty, femininity, pragmatism and boldness intoxicate him. To earn and maintain her love, he enlists in the army to become a “sozaboy”: “I will do anything so that this fine girl can be my wife and I can be sleeping with her on one bed every night,” he says (37).
The corrupt recruitment officers into the army extract a large fee from him before enlisting him. As a new recruit, he is very proud of his uniform and his gun. His gun almost becomes an object of worship. He cuddles it, adores it just as he does his wife Agnes. But as he is unable to raise up children by his wife because he has to dash off to war soon after marrying her, he is also not able to fire his gun because the rifle assigned to him is faulty. He does not quite succeed in realizing the three ambitions he sets his youthful heart and energy to accomplish. The war thwarts his plan to become the first licensed driver in his hometown, a task he has committed everything in life to accomplish. His honeymoon with his beautiful bride is also cut short by his enlistment in the army. His efforts, vision, passion and money are wasted as the war claims his wife and his mother- the two people that matter most to him in life. And having joined the army at a great cost, he is unable to experience the fulfillment of an accomplished soldier. He loses all that is dear to him in life in order for him to gain full awareness of himself, his environment, and life generally. Both as a civilian and as a soldier, Mene is not a violent person. He never even fires a shot throughout his stint in the army.
He keeps on asking why the war is being fought, but no one either within or outside the army is able to give him any answer. But at the end he learns when his romantic ideas collide with his painful experiences, that war and military life involve death, suffering and pain. Things, events, actions, people and the war must now be seen in their correct and realistic perspectives. It is bygone to those alluring “sweet dreams” . He sees the meaninglessness and the futility of war in one instant not as preached by pacifist or by a senior adult, but as it really is when all the officers and many of the company boys are butchered in the first air raid. Now every instinct in him tells him to desert. He runs through forests and creeks not minding “Whether tiger or snake or leopard or any dangerous animal is in the forest” (113).
Saro- Wiwa uses the new maturity and insight that Mene has just gained to undercut the glory of war by making him experience hardship, danger, disappointment and bereavement. He gains maturity from the ordeals and stresses he undergoes. With the benefit of experience he tries to redefine war, throwing into the ditch his earlier fanciful notions about warfare. War is a double -edged sword, capable of cutting this way and that way. The tragic death of his mother, wife and the destruction of his house in a bomb blast inflict a permanent injury on his psyche. He discovers that he has given too much of himself to the machinery of war. Mene would have loved to return to the protective arms of his mother and his wife and continue his life. But he realizes that the old life has passed away. The war has ended, but not until it swept away the nature and texture of the pre-war society. The search for his mother and his wife through all the refugee camps enables him to see at first hand the tragedy occasioned by a war in which he was an enthusiastic participant. He witnesses for himself the sufferings of the civilian population, the loss of life and property and the ruthless annihilation of many communities. One very important theme of this novel is the experience of the common people who are caught up in the war. The war which had promised to build up Mene’s personality ends up destroying his dream and hopes: “…war is useless …uniform and everything is just to cause confusion … (172). “War is a very bad and stupid game,” he concludes (151). Saro-Wiwa has chosen this young hero to make his comments on the Nigerian Civil War and to offer a deep and direct insight into the fate of the common people who were caught in this tragic drama of destruction.
The young loquacious soldier is beyond embarrassment in his chosen idiolect as he strives to communicate in a language he has hardly mastered. But he gets by in a very funny and interesting way. He distorts, concocts, breaks, remolds and transfer words and phrases from British English to Pidgin idiolect without guilt and without sensitivity to the established grammar of the language. He is completely excited by the language he has fashioned to express himself in. There is no doubt that the novel embodies the profound essence of the Nigerian Civil War experience. The author concentrates on the downtrodden, the class of people on which the war and any war for that matter has its most devastating effects. The success of the novel rests on the innovative stylistic and narrative techniques the writer has chosen to objectify the experience he expounds in the text. The narrative captures the shock, confusion, and dehumanization that the war produces in the young, the helpless and defenseless population. The novel shows the personal and social consequences of war in a way that many other novels about war do not. The following extracts should guide our understanding of the language:
i. "And as I am marching with gun and singing, prouding, all the people will come and look at me. They will say how I am brave man. Very brave man. Then Agnes will like me. And Zaza cannot make yanga for me again ... And no woman whether Simple Defence or no Simple Defence cannot begin to give me order on the road ... And I will wear uniform!" (Sozaboy pp. 54)
ii. "Suppose as the soza captain come talk, enemy begin enter Iwoama? Then he will kill all of us plus myself. Then he will enter every place plus Dukana. Then they will carry away my mama plus Agnes and then begin to use Agnes." (Sozaboy pp. 87)
iii. "[he] will just get a license and [he] will find lorry to drive. Then [he] will get plenty money and my mama and Agnes and myself will be happy". [9]
Here, we notice the use of English in ways that do not define a given standard. The expressions above show pidgin, wrong usage and standard forms. In essence, the language is rotten
2. Uzodinma Iweala's Beasts of No Nation (2005) [Special English] Uzodinma Iweala's Beasts of No Nation derives its title from a coinage made famous by Afrobeat King Fela Anikulapo-Kuti in his popular critical song of the same title. This debut novel about children in armed conflict has striking parallels with Fela’s song for its social commentary and poignancy. The book is about the egregiousness of allowing the most valuable asset of our humanity –children- to be sucked into the horrors of war. It is about lost innocence and a children’s story replete with horrors and realities of contemporary African politics and the destructive consequences of its unending civil strife.
Just as it began, Iweala’s book ends with a whimper, “And I am saying to her, fine. I am all this thing. I am all this thing, but I am also having mother once, and she is loving me”. What the end does not capture, is the torment and conflicting emotions embedded in this pint sized but powerful book. And neither does the end capture the blood-soaked reality of children caught in the vortex of armed conflict, of which cause they are none the wiser. This book is just as much about lost innocence as it is about failed societies and their decrepit values. Child soldiers, their hellish lives and the mayhem they cause on the African continent is no longer an aberration. Anyone lucky enough to have been shielded from this gory reality needs to pick up this book for some lessons learned- “All we are knowing is that before the war we are children and now we are not”. Using with great dexterity a mix of refined Pidgin English, truncated syntax, and a flourish of nuanced and flowing style befitting of his Harvard pedigree, Iweala entraps the reader, as if one is entranced on a vivid life-sized play, which unfolds in a macabre fashion.
The slanted reportage form, coming as it were from an innocent but transformed child adds vigor and panache to the storytelling. This is clearly a script cleverly written from an insider’s perspective or wealth of research, but it is invariably the handiness of Iweala's language that gives this debut work of fiction its powerful enchantment and unquestionable originality. Set in an unstated war ravaged country in West Africa (There are many from Sierra Leone to Liberia) the lead character, a teenage boy Agu (Nigerian?), is conscripted – indeed kidnapped- into the ranks of a guerrilla unit as the drums of war engulfed his homestead. Having lost his father to another set of brigands, and hunted incessantly by that reality, from which he had narrowly escaped, Agu elects to survive by the laws of the jungle and the conventional wisdom of beat them or join them after the rest of his family had been evacuated by the UN. But his youth renders him inescapably susceptible to the machinations and dodgy, yet protective nature of his new commander. This was by itself a recipe for disaster. And so the mis-education of Agu and boys of his kind begins that soon enough, the victim become the oppressor as Agu rehashes the wickedness visited on his father by taking on the wicked ways of war and the seemingly normal tendency to commit remorseless atrocities, if that was indeed the only way to stay alive and survive the vicissitude of a war without norms.
Iweala has certainly drawn from the richness of the homeland of his ancestors in writing this book. Born well after the Biafran war, he must have tapped richly into the residual tales from his family about that gory civil war in which young lads were abducted from their defenseless parents and from refugee camps and deployed as spies (Boys Company) into enemy camps on reconnaissance missions. In reality, however, this work is a poignant reminder of the collective failure of societies to protect children from the scourge of war. It is also about the mindlessness of combatants to win every battle at all cost, even if it means the annihilation of pubescent broods, who in seeking out to kill, become themselves easy targets of friends and foes alike.
Beasts of No Nation is a tug of war, in which the combatants and not just the ganja weed-type militants exist in a restive environment and must contend with the drag between rationality and foolishness, reason against futility and abnormality against spirituality. How else does one contemplate and indeed explain, the transformation of an otherwise loving, bookish boy reared by a Christian mother into a zombie, capable of audacious mayhem and indiscriminate and unprovoked killings, safe for his being drugged or brainwashed. As Agu reveals, “But these things are before the war and I am only remembering them like dream”. The essence of abnormality also comes in different forms and modes to the extent that absurdity becomes real and palpable; “Everyone is looking like one kind of animal, no more human”. Inescapably in such an incoherent setting, it is little wonder that Agu metamorphosed into a killing machine clearly distanced from normality and divorced from reality as well as from his days of innocence. His past in its totality is fleeting; merely a cameo recall of the life he once knew – a fun-filled life of schoolyard friends, loving family, religious and church activities, and in sum, a life of unfettered adolescence. Characteristically cultist, Agu’s life follows a dependency spiral to nothingness, except for the braggadocio and gun-backed confidence. Meanwhile, for fear of ostracization and as much as from lack of a credible alternative, his everyday living becomes gang like, and one in which he must survive by his wits, by the trust and camaraderie of his fellow soldiers and the deceptive altruism of his commander, while seemingly oblivious of his descent into the inhumane and bottomless abyss of war.
Beasts of No Nation may also be symmetric to indigenous rites of passage and coming of age. Bloodletting, but certainly not homicide or brutal murder has in the African context, been a way for a child to claim his manhood. Regrettably, some have stretched this notion to its breaking point as a way of proving that manhood is achieved when man can dominate his environ and those around him either legally or otherwise. Hence killing with impunity as rankling as it might be, has become a new niche that amplifies the cliché that all is fair in war and love. But the reality is that no one argues with a mad man with a loaded gun and there are plenty of guns in the wrong hands including children in many parts of Africa –guns that that sustain the profit lines of those who make and trade them.
Agu’s escapism into the throes of war is not incidental nor a matter of rationalized choice. If there was truly a choice, it was not to suffer the fate of his father, who was shot in his presence. Being a boy soldier, however, offered Agu outlets and assurances of food, power, acceptance and perhaps, the guarantee of being alive another day. Soon enough, yielding to the fear of being taunted, he machetes a man to death nonplussed. Later on, he kills a woman and her daughter, as if butchering them were his final induction rite. Perhaps it was his provenance of being a damn good child soldier. Through it all, Agu’s subdued value haunted him unceasingly. Add to this his personal trauma of being a toy boy to those who must satisfy their sexual proclivities and depravity at all cost. Through the seamless strands of roiling guns, blood, sex, hunger and mayhem, Iweala insinuates a twist of serendipity to an already twisted life, when Agu seeks elusive redemption from his very conflicted existence. But hope is furlong and out of reach.
If Agu had a choice it was to live or die. He opted for the former. And given such options, most grown men would probably capitulate and do the same. Unsurprisingly in the face of such an ironic choice Agu validates his role by asking, “What else can I be doing?” In a true show of survival instinct, he befriends Strika – his dumb, dingbat tormentor, who would not dare offer an answer to the question, “What is it like to be killing somebody?” The bestiality in this book is beyond redemption. Yet it does offer a modicum of redemption by delving into a heinously vexatious subject. What else, beyond mind-warping drugs, psychotic “gun juice’ and blatant bestiality will make it impossible for a person, be it child or man to distinguish between his fellow human being and a goat. But like Agu confirms, “I am not knowing what is farmer and what is goat” .
Beast of No Nation is a nerve-racking novel that raises more questions than it attempts to answer or shed light on. When Agu for the umpteenth time asks another contemptuous question, “How can I know what is happening to me?” it becomes stark to the reader that such questions are - their simplicity and rhetorical flourish notwithstanding - unrepentantly gut wrenching. Indeed, how can this be happening to Africa? The answer, like the old song says, is blowing in the wind. Consider the following extracts:
i. “And I am saying to her, fine. I am all this thing. I am all this thing, but I am also having mother once, and she is loving me”
ii. “But these things are before the war and I am only remembering them like dream” .
iii. “Everyone is looking like one kind of animal, no more human”
iv. “What else can I be doing?” “What is it like to be killing somebody?”
v. “I am not knowing what is farmer and what is goat” .
Like Sozaboy, there are marked pidgin and standard forms combined. The language here is used as characterization to capture the age, education and experience of the narrator
SELF ASSESSMENT EXERCISE 2
Differentiate clearly the Rotten English in Sozaboy from the Special English in Beast of no Nation.
3.3 Pidgin/Special English in Nigerian Poetry
Historically, among the pioneer poets of West Africa there were writers who made use of Pidgin even as they created other poems in English. In his collection Africa Sings (1952) Dennis Osadebay, a pioneer poet, makes use of Pidgin in one poem entitled "Black Man Trouble." Here, he is much more adventurous than even many contemporary Nigerian poets, as he dramatizes the themes through the use of a character who is lamenting not only the injustice of his race but also his oppression as a colonial subject. This four-stanza poem commences with a general examination of the fate of the black man. The syntax of the Pidgin poem is not taxing, for Osadebay is clearly influenced by the ideas associated with the placement of words in English. However, the artistic element in the poem that is portrayed through the deliberate dissociation of the persona from the issue of the lament in the first stanza contributes to the arousal of empathy in the reader. The poet indicates that the black person encounters enormous problems ("face big strife") in order to acquire even "some little food" for "him belly" (his stomach). Thus unconsciously the reader agrees with the poet in the subsequent stanzas that his "heart be clean, my word be true," but "why must my feet be in your chain?" and "you must chase me with your cane?" Even the issue of religion is utilized in this poem to demonstrate the unfair treatment of the black persona, who "no get gun," "no get bomb," and "no fit fight no more." The aspect of this hopeless situation which the poet most detests is the hypocritical use of the "cross" to "make me dumb," with the result that he is asked to close his eyes in prayer as the priest's "brudder thief my land away." The poet therefore laments the use of religion to camouflage materialistic aims. The emphatic note on which the poem ends reiterates the poet's thematic objective:
I no fit listen to more lies
I done see everything;
Dis tam I open wide my eyes
And see de tricks you bring;
You play me fair, I make you glad;
Play me selfish, I make you sad (17)
There is no doubt that this poem illustrates quite early the blend of serious issues and language experimentation which contradicts some of the recent prevalent views that Pidgin is suited for only comic situations. That erroneous impression must have developed through the popular use of Pidgin in Nigerian newspapers like Lagos Weekend and Lagos Life and on such television programs as "New Masquerade" and "Samanja." Osadebay's poem may appear humorous in some sections, but it captures with telling accuracy the problems of colonialism during that period of Nigerian history.
The achievement of that pioneer poet is extended in the early sixties by Frank Aig-Imoukhuede, whose poem "One Wife for One Man" was given in manuscript form to Gerald Moore and Ulli Beier and was subsequently published in the 1963 edition of Modern Poetry from Africa. In this poem, Aig-Imoukhuede adopts a jocular tone to satirize the religious injunction that polygamy is abnormal. The poet does not advocate polygamy, however, and in fact he presents several reasons for questioning the practice. The use of polygamy here as a theme serves the twin function of providing the poet with an issue that is not only traditional but also capable of forming a substantial subject for the interrogation of the cultural-conflict reality. The persona has been inundated by the injunction "One wife for one man" in the churches and law courts, with the result that he is almost deaf or, as he puts it, "my ear nearly cut." In the second stanza he argues that his ancestors "get him wife borku [plenty]," although he agrees that "dat time done pass before white man come" (the time is past). After these seemingly trivial assertions, the persona proceeds to tabulate the reasons of infertility, excessive pride, the lack of home training or formal education, and the issue of producing male children to continue one's lineage as justification for not allowing "one wife for one man." The final stanza ends with the words:
Suppose, self, say na so-so woman your wife dey born
Suppose your wife sabe book, no'sabe make chop;
Den, how you go tell man make 'e no' go out
Sake of dis divorce? Bo, dis culture na waya O!
Wen one wife be for one man" (Moore and Beier, 128-29).
This issue of language development through the absorption of elements from other languages is noticeable in the verse of Mamman Vatsa whose Tori For Geti Bow Leg adds yet another dimension to Pidgin poetry, since his work is the product of cultural experience from the northern region of Nigeria. In the forty-one poems of Vatsa's collection he explores diverse themes in such a way that he seems to have combined the attentive perception of social ethos with his own natural flair for light-heartedness. The first poem in this collection, "Our Country Law," sets the scene, as it illustrates the devious ways in which laws are fashioned to restrict womanhood. It must be stated that many of these Pidgin poets consider fundamental and worthy of castigation all issues related to the treatment of women in society. Vatsa's poem, for instance, charges that in most segments of society women are forbidden to smoke or to engage in polygamy. But the basic idea which he makes persuasive is that some of these laws are often circumvented, and he turns those instances of circumvention into metaphors in the poem.
Vatsa also criticizes prevalent attitudes that he deems detrimental to the development of society. In the poem "Woman, You Be Manure" (31) it is the punishing high rate of fertility without commensurate financial weight that merits his displeasure, while in "Wayo Man" (29) he castigates unreliability and dishonesty. As a Pidgin poet, Vatsa is certainly interested in the elimination of social vices and pretentious behaviour, like the other Pidgin poets considered here. In a poem entitled "Yanga" (which means "Useless Pride") he feels that many of those people who behave as if they possess physical power are often deluded and weak, like "chicken/im feda/wey wind/dey blow" (15). The admonition is made more forceful by the image of the chicken with its feathers flattened by the wind. It is in this use of apt imagery that Vatsa makes a striking mark as a Pidgin poet. In the poem "Apartai," which is informed by the obnoxious apartheid policy that existed for so long in South Africa, he extends the issue to incorporate all forms of discrimination. For instance:
Bigi man latrine
wey smaller man no fit
use
dat na apartai."
Elsewhere we read:
Ten people
wey de rule
ten tousand people
bicos dem
get plenty moni
an' diffren-diffren colour
dat na apartai" (12)
Vatsa artistically elaborates upon the subject of discrimination in most human interactions in order to persuade the reader that even the trivial incidents one is likely to ignore are all appendages to the great discrimination that is transformed into the law of "apartheid." It is through this use of familiar symbols to treat social issues via new perspectives that Vatsa's poetry widens in scope. In his verse Vatsa the military man does not spare the deficiencies of the members of his profession, for the poems "Drink-Drink Soja-Soja" and "Ol' Soja Jolly Time" criticize the habit of soldiers who drink intoxicating wine excessively. At the same time he shows awareness for some of the unpleasant effects of the profession on low-ranking military personnel, for in the poem "Priva Soja Cry-Cry" he sympathizes with the ordinary soldier who bears the brunt of the labour in the barracks.
It is this awareness of social injustice which makes the poet argue in "Judgmenti Day" that, in the final analysis, each person, irrespective of his material possessions, is bound to pay for his unjust actions, since on the day of judgment "argument/no go de" (11). The stress on this "day of judgment" is clearly Vatsa' s way of drawing attention to the futile nature of such abnormal habits as the acquisition of expensive cars, as he shows in the poem "Obokun Odabo," where a "man no geti room/for sleep/e dey drive/Obokun" (39). In using the name "Obokun," said to be a Yoruba name for an expensive fish but also a term applied to Mercedes- Benz cars, the poet is satirizing an excessive acquisitive mentality, as he does again in the poem "Country Make Me Good." This poem admonishes covetousness, which makes "ya troat long," and at the same time asserts the values associated with farm work - an injunction that is needed in a society which craves finished products without appreciating the labor associated with them.
It is certainly this issue of misplaced values that makes the poet criticize the fact that emotions often overcome the senses in human affairs, as in the title poem "Tori For Geti Bow Leg," in which a man confesses to his wife that if he had listened to his friend, she would not have been his wife. This confession leads to altercations, and Vatsa, in presenting this poem, is stressing the importance of applying a dose of wisdom to emotional issues. Thus, in his criticism he tackles all those characteristics that are foolish, like the modern woman in the poem "Modan Moda" who is unwilling to breastfeed her babies so that she can maintain erect breasts, the unpolished woman in the poem "Ye-Ye Woman" (32), the disrespectful woman in the poem "Gara-Gara" (48), and the women who gossip excessively in "Madam Tok- About" (54). Vatsa does not single out only women for censure, for he also criticizes men, as in the poem "Make-Make-Man," and especially when they engage in profitless activities in order to create false impressions. Such men are among the politicians he castigates in the poem "Promise Wey Boku" for not taking beneficial actions but instead only spouting frivolous speeches, with the result that, before the general public can benefit, "dem/Billi for Killam!" This ironic perception indicates that those who are expected to benefit from parliamentary bills put forward by politicians usually become victims of the ill- conceived ideas of those same politicians. It is clearly this perceptive power in Vatsa's poems that persuaded one critic to state that, as in "Tori For Geti Bow Leg," "Vatsa ever wrote genuinely popular poetry, poetry rooted in the accents, rhythms and feelings of common people, not versified banalities masquerading as simple, accessible 'popular' poetry" (Jeyifo, 291). In Vatsa's Pidgin poetry these feelings of common people range from the political to the social, from the personal to the public, from the mundane to the spiritual, from the psychological to the philosophical.
The pervasive nature of social criticism in Pidgin poetry reaches a high point in Ken Saro-Wiwa's "Dis Nigeria Sef." The tone of this poem emerges quite early, as the poet compares Nigeria to "water wey dey boil." The personification of Nigeria here is a means for examining the country's prevalent social ills, disorganized social services, and dilapidated infrastructures. One poetic device used by the poet is the creation of a dialogue involving the persona and Nigeria. The poet indicates that the country's soldiers, policemen, and nurses do not provide the necessary services associated with their professions, while the citizens lack originality in their religion, language, and acquisition of names. The exasperation of the persona, which emerges at intervals as the poem progresses, becomes part of the poet's technique in the addition of a folkloric dimension, as Nigeria is scolded: "Oh yes, you be foolish yeye man/Look as you dey laugh as I dey talk/You tink say I dey joke?" (39). This abusive tone becomes clearer as a deliberate shock device when Saro-Wiwa adopts a different tone later in the poem: "But I beg you oh, Nigeria/No talk say I dey cuss you/True to God no be say, I no like you" (41). It is this patriotic love which the persona has for his country that is behind the poetic attitude, for the poet perceives the ostentatious nature of the people as responsible for the social anomalies despite the fact that the "rivers and de ocean/full of fish and oder good tings." The final segment of the poem extols the positive qualities of the country in terms of food, and Saro-Wiwa insists that some of the people
na better man
Dey work from morning till night
weder soza nurse or police
or farmer wey dey cut bush plant
or trader wey dey sell petty petty for market
or akowe wey dey siddon for him office" (44).
The perception of contraries in terms of the country's positive and negative characteristics takes the poem beyond the level of cataloguing impressions, for this poetic attitude is stressed in the last stanza as "dis I- love-no-love Nigeria" mannerism. This attitude also parallels that of the majority of the people, who are troubled by doubts of patriotism. Thus the poem is both a statement and an injunction, as Saro-Wiwa reflects the syntax and spelling of Pidgin words like soza (soldier), which is influenced by his mother tongue.
The collections of verse published by Mamman Vatsa and Aig- Imoukhuede in the eighties emphasized the progress which Pidgin poetry had made in two decades. But those collections were not the only works of Pidgin verse that the reading public encountered, for such well-known writers as Ken Saro-Wiwa, Tanure Ojaide, and Tunde Fatunde and such lesser- known poets as Pita Okute, A. Ajakaiye, Ogunlowo, Erapi, Udenwa, Ojeifo, Bello, and Osita Ike published Pidgin poems in various anthologies. Both these well-known and lesser- known poets illustrate the basic orality manipulated through the choice and placement of Pidgin words. For instance, Ojaide, whose reputation has been established by the publication of several collections of verse in English - Labyrinths of the Delta, The Endless Song, The Eagle's Vision, The Fate of Vultures, The Blood of Peace - includes one Pidgin poem in The Eagle's Vision.
In this poem, entitled "I Be Somebody" (Ojaide, 69), he employs contrast as a rhetorical and artistic device as he manipulates the orality of the Pidgin language while choosing and placing his words in a manner to enhance the effect of his ideas. The persona in the poem is proud of his abilities to "shine" shoes "like new one from supermarket" and "carry load for head from Lagos go Abuja." In addition, this persona is fertile, for his "children reach Nigerian Army" in their numbers. It is possible to argue that the fertility which this "poor man" asserts as a quality may not be positive considering his limited financial resources. However, what the poet is indicating ironically is that it is unjust and unwise to regard one's compatriots with contempt, especially when the persona is noble and selfless in helping "push your car from gutter for rain." Although the persona's reward is the splashing of "poto-poto" (watery mud) on his body, the poet still implies that his selfless services are essential.
Tunde Fatunde, has published three poems in Okike, The Anthill Annual, and Voices from the Fringe in which he exploits the resources of descriptive poetry. For example, in "Woman Dey Suffer," published in Okike, he describes the unpleasant aspects of the experience of women in society. He depicts the woman as receiving little pay despite her hard work at the office, having to return home in the evening to labor for her husband and children, and, in addition to all this responsibility, encountering several religious restrictions on her womanhood. The poet's basic contention is that:
As we get beta woman
Na so we get Yeye Koni-Koni man
Yeye woman dey
Beta Man dey
If dis world good
Na man and woman
Make am good
If dis Obodo Nigeria bad
Na woman and man
Make am bad (98)
The poet is advocating equal treatment for all sexes, which is why his conclusion stresses social harmony.
In another poem, "Bad Belle Too Much," published in The Anthill Annual, Fatunde again advocates amity and harmony in social interactions. His concern is clearly to highlight the forms of injustice in the society, which is probably why he subjects his themes so seldom to complex philosophical ruminations. In addition, his poems are topical, as in the case of "Denis Obi Don Die," published in Voices from the Fringe. The poem is based on a real-life incident in which Denis Obi, a ten-year-old schoolboy, drowns while trying to catch fish in a small river near Sabongida-Ora in Bendel State. The poet attributes the boy's death to social injustice, which denies him parental guidance and financial protection - "Bekos in Papa and Mama/No fit pay im School fees/Na only fifteen naira" (Garuba, 145) - and leads the headmaster to drive him away from school. All the same, it is still possible to read this poem as a metaphor in spite of its topicality, which to some extent militates against Fatunde's utilization of relevant poetic devices. His Pidgin poems are nevertheless faithful to the social and cultural tensions in contemporary Nigerian society.
Other poems in Voices from the Fringe present new thematic perspectives for both the creation and the appreciation of Pidgin poetry, as their variety of subjects touch on most aspects of modern reality. The poem "Common Wealth" by A. Ajakaiye takes up the concept of the Commonwealth of Nations, in which a "former colomaster" and several "former colo servants" are expected to assume a unitary view of reality. These Pidgin poets consider such deviant motives fundamental, and there is confirmation in Anthony Ogunlowo's "Dem Dey Kill Dem Sef" in which the poet condemns the violence of soldiers who periodically exterminate their comrades, especially "for dis time/when war no dey" (137). Complementary to this poem is Godwin Erapi's "Chopping Freedom", which demonstrates the dishonesty of one of those soldier- leaders who denies his people freedom of expression, freedom to live, and freedom to acquire education in spite of promises to the contrary. This issue of military politics is also prominent in Onuora Udenwa's "Who Send You," a poem in which he challenges the idea of "civilianized Soldiers".
In effect, the use of a persona whose ordinariness is obvious is, in most cases, not intended by the Pidgin poet to create the impression of naivete or simplemindedness. In the articulation of themes, the Pidgin poet, like other Nigerian poets who employ either English or one of the various Nigerian languages, makes use of the parabolic mode associated with the poetic persona in addition to the adoption of proverbial structures, metaphors, symbols, ironies, images, contrasts, refrain, rhythm, alliteration, and onomatopoeia. The language of the poem is mediated, but in this mediation there are varied levels of competence, which is really what determines the success of the works.
SELF-ASSESSMENT EXERCISE 3
Discuss the effectiveness of Pidgin English in Nigerian Poetry.
3.4 Pidgin/Special English in Nigerian Drama
The question of language has continued to confront the Nigerian dramatist. Dapo Adelugba’s Three Dramatists in Search of a Language, therefore, would make a very interesting reading. From Ola Rotimi to Wale Ogunyemi and Tunde Fatunde among others, different experiments on language have been carried out in their literary creativity. On a broad perspective, a few Nigerian playwrights write in their mother tongue. The reason for this is not far-fetched; the local audience for whom they write could be easily reached. Such writers do not bother much about a national or an international audience. Worthy of mention are certain Yoruba performing artists in the Western part of Nigeria like Afolabi Olabimtan, Kola Akinlade, Adekanmi Oyedele, Adebisi Aromolaran, Adeboye Babalola, Olu Owolabi and others. In the Northern and Eastern parts of the country and among the ethnic minorities, a few others exist but their creative outputs are known only to an audience of their immediate communities for whom they write.
In the South-Eastern part of the country, one of the emerging voices in indigenous playwriting is Sonny Sampson-Akpan. However, aware of the need for a national and, perhaps, an international audience, his plays like Mfon and Asabo Tale have been translated to English. A good others whose works meet international standards have had their works translated into English, the nation’s lingua franca. Plays of Duro Ladipo and Kola Ogunmola fall within this category.
However, for the Nigerian dramatist, writing in English, the question of language is a different ball-game. While Ola Rotimi has approached the matter entirely from an interpolation of cardinal indigenous Nigerian languages, sometimes representing the six geo-political zones of the country, and sometimes going further to capture the dialects of some unsung minorities in an ingeniously creative manner, Wale Ogunyemi has approached the matter in a purely transliterative manner deploying a medium which Dapo Adelugba has aptly described as “Yorubanglish” – a peculiar “Englishizing” of Yoruba expressions, words and parables. Tunde Fatunde, on his part, approaches the matter employing a special brand of Nigerian English known, simply, as “Pidgeon English” – a corrupt form of English notorious among the low-class of the society. These groups of people are in the majority, population-wise, and the medium is language-friendly to them. It should be noted that out of a population strength of over one hundred and twenty million in Nigeria, only about twenty per cent of this number is literate in the true sense of the word. While Tunde Fatunde’s effort in plays like Oga na Tief Man and No Blood, No Sweat are commendable literary strides, the question of language continues to bog the minds of creative writers.
The adoption of “Pidgeon English” may not be the water-tight solution needed for the problem. This is because there are different varieties of “Pidgeon English”. The “Pidgeon English” that is spoken in Nigeria, varies among ethnic groups from the West, East, North and among the ethnic minorities like the Ijaw and the Ibibio of Niger-Delta. With a little effort, anyway, one could pick one or two meanings of the different expressions here and there. Until the Nigerian Government shows more commitment to the advancement and promotion of education, this problem will continue to persist. Another problem with this medium is that since it is employed by academically-inclined people, it is removed from the targeted audience since plays that are written in this medium have never actually been known to have been performed in villages but in school theatre auditoria where the ready audience is already literate.
Adelugba has argued that 'the language barrier is more on the level of ideas than reality.' Elsewhere, in respect of the National Troupe, he says: 'Theatre language is not Yoruba, it is not Hausa, it is not Igbo. It is theatre and that is why the countries that have chosen the dance model have got round their problem. Once we choose the language of movement, sound, expression, then you get round the problem.' All this is true if the medium is not verbal. The moment one begins to deal with the cold texts that constitute a large part of the Nigerian theatre, the question of language becomes all too urgent.
Ogunba, almost 20 years ago, expressed the 'hope that as it (modern African drama) matures in years, it will become even more distinguished and finally achieving a form uniquely African... To do (this) however, the language question will have to be resolved in many parts of the continent.' He was aware then of the problem, underlined by the involvement of those who had chosen an idea which frustrates rather than facilitates communication. Etherton who usually takes the pain to examine every problem critically finally confesses that 'the language used in African drama is a problem for which there is no ready solution.' Yet Nigerian dramatists have made conscious efforts to relate their works to their perceived audiences. Clark-Bekederemo, who had earlier written 'The Legacy of Caliban’, believes the writer has to search within his culture. 'The task for an Ijaw', he remarks in 'Aspects of Nigerian Drama', a later essay, 'and I dare say, any Nigerian or African artist writing in a European language like English is one of finding the verbal equivalent for his characters created in their original context.' Rotimi has also stated his own approach to the issue thus: 'English, as you know, is the official medium of communication in Nigeria. Inevitably, I write for audiences who are knowledgeable in this language. However, in handling the English language in my plays, I strive to temper its phraseology to the ears of both the dominant semi-literate as well as the literate groups with ease in assimilation and clarity and identification.'
Any of the plays of Soyinka termed as 'difficult', shedding the language could have evolved from the imagination of a traditional artist. The use of traditional and accessible motifs like myth, ritual, dance and dirge situates them within a context to which Akinwumi Isola reaches in translating Death as Iku Olokun Esin which Ojewuyi directed in 1994.
But Soyinka claims he writes 'in the firm belief that there must be at least a hall full of people who are sort of on the same wave length as mine from every stratum of society and there must be at least a thousand people who are able to feel the same way as I do about something. So... I write in the absolute confidence that it must have an audience.' Osofisan, who arguably has written more popular plays than any other Nigerian literary dramatist, once translated Who's Afraid of Solarin into Yoruba as Yeepa! Solaarin Nbo, with the collaboration of Dotun Ogundeji, a teacher of Yoruba language. There is a coinage, 'Yorubanglish' by Adelugba. 'This is not just Yoruba or English or Yoruba mixed with English but the many-sided attempts to catch the flavour, tones, rhythms, emotional and intellectual content of Yoruba language and thought.' The question of English language as a possible medium for an authentic Nigerian literary drama, a drama which can reach vast audiences is now no longer a serious problem.' Plays have had very wide appeal in spite of the language. But there can be no question that a great number of the people that such plays intend to address have been excluded. Even at the very bare level where Mike now operates in the developmental theatre, vestiges of the language problem remain, and will remain for as long as English is used by only a few influential people in these parts. The origin of this problem, which constitutes for the contemporary theatre a crisis of relevance is, as hinted earlier on, to be found in the nature of education that the pioneers of the Nigerian theatre received.
SELF ASSESSMENT EXERCISE 4
Pidgin English is not the solution to proper theatre practice in Nigeria. Assess this statement properly.
4.0 CONCLUSION
Some critics argue that Pidgin English is "used for humour as well as for character portrayal" and can also be "employed to explore deeper meanings, to explain the reasons behind a character's actions, and to project and foreground certain themes". There is no doubt that Pidgin has been deployed interestingly in the novels of Achebe, Cyprian Ekwensi, and Adaora Lily Ulasi and in the plays of Soyinka and Ola Rotimi. There are also other works that are written entirely or to a great extent in Pidgin, like Ken Saro-Wiwa's Sozaboy, Segun Oyekunle's Kata-kata for Sufferhead, and Tunde Fatunde's No More Oil Boom, No Food No Country, Water No Get Enemy, Blood and Sweat, and Oga na Tief-Man. These works portray the varied dimensions in the use of Pidgin to enhance modern Nigerian literature. However, it is in poetry that this language has been most effectively employed to create a bridge of orality, especially in the attempt to domesticate, develop, and exploit its artistic resources, as we find in the works of Frank Aig- Imoukhuede, Mamman Vatsa, Ezenwa- Ohaeto, Ken Saro-Wiwa, Tunde Fatunde, and Tanure Ojaide amongst others. There is no doubt that the thematic range and artistic qualities of the Pidgin literatures discussed in the foregoing portray both a development and successful experiments. The lyric quality of the poems and the use of irony, metaphor, and imagistic characterization combine to produce innovations which have helped blend the resources of Pidgin to the needs of serious poetry. The essence of these works makes it clear that the language is not an end in itself but a means to an end, thus confirming the view that language is used for the external manipulation of human thoughts [and] for man's understanding of the world in which he lives. The use of Pidgin by these poets is intended to make that manipulation and that understanding artistically better, for it portrays a medium quite close to African orality although the language has not been standardized.
5.0 SUMMARY
These Nigerian Pidgin/Special English writers have established a viable literary tradition, and in their achievement by bridging the gap between oral communication and the written medium. In addition, in their use of language they exploit its resources through the use of a folk poetics and a sensitive deployment of a range of rhetorical styles while synthesizing formal features of poetry and verbal resources to generate a new vigor in the Nigerian literary tradition. Although this study indicates that the strengths of the poets vary and that sometimes their creative works possess flaws, the conclusion is that Pidgin literature is part of the literary traditions that coalesce to make modern Nigerian literature worthy of critical attention.
6.0 TUTOR-MARKED ASSIGNMENT
Answer the following questions carefully:
1. Explain what is meant by domestication of English in Nigerian literature.
2. Discuss the importance of Pidgin in Nigerian poetry.
3. Assess the success of Pidgin English in Nigerian prose fiction.
4. Nigerian dramatists used various language forms in their art. How effective has been their experimentations?
5. Distinguish between Pidgin English and Special English as used in Nigerian literature.
7.0 REFERENCES/FURTHER READINGS
Aig-Imoukhuede, Frank (1982). Pidgin Stew and Sufferhead. Ibadan, Nigeria: Heinemann.
Elugbe, B. O., and A. P. Omamor (1991). Nigerian Pidgin: Background and Prospects. Ibadan, Nigeria: Heinemann.
Garuba, Harry, ed. (1988). Voices from the Fringe: New Nigerian
Poetry. Lagos: Malthouse.
Iweala, Uzodinma (2005). Beasts of No Nation. London: John
Murray Publishers.
Ohaeto, Ezenwa. “Bridges of Orality: Nigerian Pidgin Poetry”. World Literature Today, Vol. 69, 01-01-1995, pp 69(9).
Osadebay, Dennis Chukude (1952). Africa Sings. Ilfracombe, Eng.: Arthur Stockwell.
.
Ken Saro-Wiwa (1985). Sozaboy: A Novel in Rotten English. Port
Harcourt: Saros International Publishers.
--- ---(1986). Poems in Time of War. Port Harcourt: Saros International Publishers.
Vatsa, Mamman Jiya (1985). Tori for Geti Bow Leg and Other Pidgin Poems. Lagos:Cross Continents.
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