The Rain That Beat the Eagle: An Ironical Twist in Igbo Discourse

By

Obododimma Oha

As we well know, ironies spring an element of surprise on us! We would be expecting something to happen, but its opposite, complete opposite, happens. Life is full of such surprises. But  my attention in this short essay is how this ironical twist that comes with a surprise is encoded in Igbo proverbial discourse  and used to articulate experiences. I have woven the discussion around the eagle, much revered for nobility in Igbo discourse. This is because the eagle is symbolic and the idea of the rain beating a bird and making it both bad-looking and miserable is a very graphic one we can be familiar with. In fact, in Igbo discourse generally, the rain beating a bird is a pitiable narrative often used to evoke pathos and to attribute altruism to its helper, as in the Igbo proverb, ọkụkọ anaghị echezọ onye kworo ya ọdụ n’udummiri (The domestic fowl will always be grateful to the person that removes its tail feathers in the rainy season). The logic behind such gratitude is that the tail feathers easily get wet and make the bird uncomfortable, its movement awkward. Removing them entirely, just like prunning a tree, is some act of love. Of course, the feathers would grow back later. In this regard, one would like to see how Igbo discourse represents the eagle drenched by the rain.

In fact, being beaten by the rain is not always a good experience. It can even be used as a figurative expression to evoke pity for the victim. Little wonder Chinua Achebe, in one of his essays, writes about the need for Africans to know where “the rain” started beating them. That was an idiom borrowed from Igbo discourse. Of course, we know Achebe and his discursive celebration of Igbo culture!  He was, in fact, talking about the need for consciousness, or, as my late father would also put it, nkita m na-egburu ngwere asabehị anya (The puppy for which I am killing and storing lizards is yet to open its eyes). When the puppy opens its eyes or comes to awareness, its redemption would begin. Thus, mistreated people should know where and how this mistreatment started. Anyone wishing to keep them under subservience would not want them to ask where the rain started beating them. Didn’t we see this strategic use of ignorance in the relationship between slave owners in America and Africans enslaved? The slaves were prevented from learning to read and read so that they would not find something out in the books and interrogate their masters. Not even the reading of the Bible, the holy book, was allowed. For the enslaver, it is better and safer to keep the enslaved ignorant. Once the enslaved comes to awareness and could ask question, enslavement is over! Didn’t we see that happen in America?

The proverbial angle. Proverbs are often treated as wise ans tested sayings, although some by encoding fallacies and negative sentiments, suggest themselves as suspect. But, in spite of that, the encoding of the rain beating the eagle and making it more beautiful in a proverb is one way of appealing for its acceptance as a something springing forth from deep thought. Isn’t the fact that its springs forth from deep thinking a mystification and therefore even more revered?

The Igbo proverb that is somewhat central to this ironical twist says: mmiri mara ugo, achaala ugo ahụ (The rain that drenched the eagle has made it even more beautiful than before). Is that not surprising? But we were expecting the eagle to catch cold or to die of cold! Who would climb those heights of its lofty perch to remove its tail feathers or light the fire for it?

It is surprising, too, that, instead of making the eagle look awkward, it rather makes it look more beautiful. Rather than being a mere adulation, the irony invites us to look more closely at life and notice that it is a project. Each soul is a project. Our being here or meeting here is part of the project. Every project has a plan.You see, it is risky, very risky, to subvert this project, especially when one has no power over it.

Allow the eagle to play its eagleness. It is the project. Don’t try to baboon it! At your own risk.

The rain that beat the eagle is not only an ironical twist that shows that we are not in control, it also tells us that we may be assisting what we think we are opposing. That is also an irony. What we don’t like is the eagleness of the eagle; that means we are opposed to the project called the eagle. That is risky. We should be lucky if we are only reformatted so that we can be functional. Terrible if the program is entirely  erased!