tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45197591733552977632024-02-02T10:25:37.114-08:00ARTitudeART, Attitude, & a Touch of StrangenessObododimma Ohahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12343801060254012161noreply@blogger.comBlogger102125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4519759173355297763.post-43036757696832531272022-09-26T15:56:00.019-07:002022-09-28T01:36:34.036-07:00From Argument to Argument<p><br /></p><p>By</p><p><br /></p><p>Obododimma Oha</p><p><br /></p><p>Have you ever participated in an endless argument, or argument that leads to another argument? Maybe you have. Just read this.</p><p>I have a friend who likes arguing. You would get tired of his argument and tell him, "Ok, you have won." He would turn and ask, "How have I won?" That would start another round of argument!</p><p>So, how has he won? You want to escape? An argument leads to another argument. You cannot escape. Plan it on the chessboard, but it would not work out. "How has he won?"</p><p>If one says that he has won, it means that one is both a competitor and judge. Unacceptable. Very.</p><p>One has to prove that he has won, even if it means arguing to favour him! Imagine! Arguing to favour what you oppose! Like suicide. Suicide in discourse. How best to destroy your own side in a debate.</p><p>That means, if you are his captive, sorry for you. No escape. You think this is your social media? You have fallen into a trap.</p><p>How has he won? This question is a strategic one. What a clever way of working on the side of an opponent in an argument!</p><p>So, you want to change the topic? We have seen that move already. It is blocked. Changing the discussion. To something on your dining table. No way! Road closed. A new discourse and a new escape route!</p><p>This is not USAAfricaDialogue or your WhatsApp group. You want to escape? Why should USA, a country, dialogue with Africa, a whole continent? No escape for you. Road closed!</p><p>Oh, you think that he was arguing to win? Not at all. Championship is for beginners in the business. Road closed here, too.</p><p>This one is not your academic exercise in which you explain argument as having conclusion, evidence or data, from which one could reach a claim or conclusion via backing and its relatives. No. This is endless thing, where Y does not necessarily lead to Z.</p><p>This brings up the issue of quarrels and arguments we witness on social media platforms. The interaction on social media is not for argument and quarrels!</p><p>What makes the situation very delicate is that those arguing do not physically see those with whom they're arguing. Certain pragmatic requirements tend to be relaxed. Arguments on social media should not be to advertise ourselves. It could eventually work against us. It's a global community! Road closed for suicide.</p>Obododimma Ohahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12343801060254012161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4519759173355297763.post-3449885634859508132022-08-18T13:22:00.015-07:002022-08-18T13:56:45.614-07:00Logicality and Relationship between Updates and Comments on Facebook<p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>By</p><p><br /></p><p>Obododimma Oha</p><p>By logicality, I simply mean the relatedness or link in a text. I want to discuss how and why comments should be linked to updates on Facebook. I have a visible presence on Facebook and do interact with friends there regularly, learning a lot in the process.</p><p>I asked for permission to use particular updates and comments. But since there are widespread discomforts, I have dropped the idea of an empirical analysis, settling for just a theoretical discussion for now. The features could easily be picked.</p><p>But what many people seem to running away from is the mention of the illogicality of their comments and updates or the tricks that they have played. This article amounts to a negative comment that they want to avoid.</p><p>Let us first consider the various ways through which this logicality is created. </p><p>(1) Repetition of some expressions or words used in the update.</p><p>(2) Dwelling on the same issue or content.</p><p>(3) Related weblinks</p><p>One does not need to over-stress it. The logicality helps readers. We need to know what the comments are responding to. This reminds one about the IRF model of conversation provided by Sinclair and Coulthard. Spelt out, IRF means Initiation, Response, and Follow-up.</p><p>In this regard, the conversation could be between updaters and readers, or between reader and reader.</p><p>We are helping readers to make appropriate connections between updates and comments. But there is a presupposition here: that the writer of the comment has read the update it points to before and has understood it.</p><p>If the writer of the comment has not first read the update, we should expect a weak connection or a pronounced lack of connection. What writers of comments do to escape the demand of logicality include:</p><p>(1) Greeting the updater</p><p>(2) Diverting the discussion to something else</p><p>(3) Writing generally about the update or updater.</p><p>Let us now examine the specific means of creating logicality in the discourse.</p><p>In the repetition of some expressions or words used in the update, we have a linguistic linkage. The idea is that meaning is held together by reminding the reader about linkages and that one of such important linkages is in the words or expression used.</p><p>It is like the commenter is pointing at language, at medium. Some updates or comments may be poetic, calling special attention to language.</p><p>It very important to point out that the language of updates and comments on Facebook is changing. It is no longer language as we know it. Visuals and audio are now incorporated. So, logicality may even be treated as a thing of sound and vision.</p><p>What is particularly expected is that the comment should dwell on the same issue as the update. But sometimes this is not the case. Commenters may sometimes not be able to make the necessary logical connections to show that they are reasoning well. Things that may work against them include:</p><p>(1) Excitement with the update</p><p>(2) Previous knowledge of the updater</p><p>(3) Poor skill of the handling of logic in discourse</p><p>(4) Distractions from other updates</p><p>Naturally, readers of postings on Facebook should take logicality as a serious demand. Facebook is not just a place to show a smiling face or nice clothes. It is much more. And logic in the discourse guides judgement.</p><p>Some updates may deliberately be slippery and make logicality difficult for commenters. If commenters are not careful, they won't notice an avoidance of reference and the trap laid. If commenters choose to become specific, that is their own headache.</p><p>Weblinks connect discourses and discourses. So, the weblinks that are used in updates and comments create greater global logicality. They extend cohesion of the update or comment.</p><p>Weblinking points to the necessity of making the web text properly linked up, internally and externally. Weblinking is web logicality.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Obododimma Ohahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12343801060254012161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4519759173355297763.post-2504061331387906972022-08-03T12:02:00.008-07:002022-08-03T12:07:10.491-07:00The Cow and the Road<p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>By</p><p><br /></p><p>Obododimma Oha</p><p><br /></p><p>Various Igbo highlife musicians have said it in their songs, but it is the special rendition by Sir Warrior that engages the attention of this article: the cow and the road:</p><p><br /></p><p>E libe ụzọ,</p><p>Libe ehi,</p><p>Mụ ewere ụzọ,</p><p>Hapụ ehi.</p><p>E ribe ehi</p><p>E richaa ya.</p><p>Ụzọ ụzọ echi echi....</p><p><br /></p><p>(If the road is put on a leash</p><p>The cow put on a leash</p><p>For me to choose out of the two,</p><p>I would choose the road</p><p>And leave the cow.</p><p>The cow could be eaten up completely</p><p>But the road, never!)</p><p><br /></p><p>Indeed, both the cow and the road could come to an end. But the cow ends quicker. A road could be temporarily closed or permanently, but a replacement constructed. Not so with the cow. So, both are not exhaustible in the same way.</p><p>Sir Warrior in "Elu uwa" sings about his bewilderment in life. Those who think that life is like cowmeat are mistaken. It's inexhaustible like the road. This world seems to have no head and no tail. Life is a mystery.</p><p>Sir Warrior would like us to stop treating earthly life as we treat cowmeat. We cannot completely finish life. It's an unending road.</p><p>This life is strange. It cannot be compared to a cow. Even the path the cow makes may become a road eventually. That's one reason for us to be very careful in life.</p><p>This configuration of life as a road is very profound, indeed. The day of birth is not the beginning of the journey and death is not the end. The road stretches on. The end of the road is not in sight.</p><p>But there are roads, not just one. he road to Venus and the road to Plutoa The road to Putin is not the road to Zelensky. There are even roads in roads. </p><p>Sir Warrior would pick the road and leave the cow. But he knows that the road may diverge. So that various voices would talk about the cow and the road differently.</p>Obododimma Ohahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12343801060254012161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4519759173355297763.post-81368509037805714162022-06-20T04:09:00.020-07:002022-06-20T04:36:31.055-07:00"Nwanne M Peter, Nwanne M Paul": The Errors in English We Didn't Know Were Errors<p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>By</p><p><br /></p><p>Obododimma Oha</p><p><br /></p><p>The Nigerian English as a Second-language context could be full of interesting challenges and surprises. There are creative reuses and there are errors.</p><p>Why would there not be errors? First, English is not the native language. This meant interference from the knowledge of the native language.</p><p>The children' s teachers shared in this interference, although they had attained higher education. Native use is native use. The nonnative expert needs some humility here.</p><p>There are many other factors, including physiologies, teaching methods, etc.</p><p>It was our days in the primary school in English as a Second Language context. There were some words that we uttered but didn't know were wrong. Either the adults from whom we heard them uttered them wrongly, or we heard one thing and uttered another. Or what we thought we heard was not what was uttered!</p><p>The main contexts of this experience was songs. Usually, the learners were many. So it was difficult to make sure each child heard and repeated what was heard rightly. In a song, it was given:</p><p>(1) I want to live eternal life</p><p> God save my soul</p><p>But we sang:</p><p>I want to live internal life</p><p>God save my soul</p><p>I hope that God understood. Whether the singers wanted to live eternal life internally or to live internal life eternally, it mattered less. God should understand. The words, "eternal" and "internal" are related, only that they have allowed some syllables to separate them. Thanks to the poet looking for a rhyme. They are together again!</p><p>Song learners who are also second-language learners do face a lot of challenges. Interference is just one of them. A sound in the song that they are learning in English may resemble the one that they have in the first or indigenous language. This could cause the problem of generalisation. Thus they would begin to utter the wrong sound.</p><p>Learners, faced by interference problem, may alter original words. A case that could be cited is that of "covenant, " wrongly realised as "convenant." This alteration is common among the semi-literate and may even be considered appropriate and fashionable.</p><p>Another interesting case is seen in (2) below:</p><p>(2) Two little doves sitting on a branch</p><p>One named Peter</p><p>One named Paul</p><p>Wrongly realised as</p><p>Two little doves sitting on a branch</p><p>Nwanne m Peter</p><p>Nwanne m Paul</p><p>Curiously, poetry class is the context in Nigeria, an English as a second-language environment. In that context, we can imagine strange uses of language.</p><p>"One named Peter"and "One named Paul" are uttered as "Nwanne m Peter/Nwanne m Paul." This is simply a case of taking the English sounds as Igbo sounds or mistaking of English words as Igbo words, thinking that what was heard was the English word. The English expression, "one named, " sounds like the Igbo "nwanne"!</p><p>Some errors become style when they become popular and are used regularly. This seems to be the case with "brother" ("broda") in Nigerian English. Same for "sister" ("sista") and "uncle." As in</p><p>(3) Broda/ Sista welcome.</p><p>Broda or Sista may not be from the same womb with the speaker. Just a big boy or girl who is socially more important or can offer gifts to the speaker. It is therefore an encoding or suggestion of respect. Same for "uncle" who may not in any way be related to the speaker.</p><p>Paradoxically, a brother is not a brother and sister is not a sister in this error speech. It is hoped in the teaching of the language that one day a brother would become a brother and a sister sister. Just hope that informs teaching methods.</p><p>Error is just a stage. The children would surely pass this stage and something would take over. Either they unlearn and relearn or they inflict their error on the society.</p><p><br /></p>Obododimma Ohahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12343801060254012161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4519759173355297763.post-50881659184519509202022-06-06T06:12:00.022-07:002022-06-08T05:19:08.080-07:00A Move Prompted by the Other Move: Learning from Comments on Updates<p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>By</p><p><br /></p><p>Obododimma Oha</p><p><br /></p><p>It is now known that readers' comments on updates on Facebook walls are important fields that can expand the discourse. Facebook itself has been idealised as a classroom. It is not only that teachers can use update fields as virtual classrooms, creating groups for courses they teach, but comments on updates can throw more light on issues and educate readers. Thus, there are classroom comments that are group dealings and there are classroom comments that are merely imagined.</p><p>Although comments on Facebook, which are sometimes visualised, are means of helping resdership, we know that some people comment just to run others down and to advertise themselves. That means that they are not just there to help. They are there to kill!</p><p>More on visual comments. These may be stereotypical, being used in the same form in another update.</p><p>Nothing new added. It may be giggle, clapping, laughing, etc.</p><p>Thus, they could reveal attitude to people, issue at stake, the update, a comment, etc.</p><p>Also, comments represent the idea of free participation in public debate. But they are subject to censorship. Wall owners can delete comments or even block commenters! But it is not always good to act in anger and delete comments. In making comments we can expose ourselves. Our wisdom and foolishness would show. Our enlightenment and ignorance would be exposed. Just like the update itself that exposes the updater.</p><p>Types of comments we can find are worth noting:</p><p>(1) Comments on other comments;</p><p>(2) Comments that have no direct relevance to the update;</p><p>(3) Commenting as a routine to boost the ego of the person who has made the update;</p><p>(4) Comments that extend the discourse in the update.</p><p>Some comments focus on other comments. This is not necessarily bad or diversionary. It is an attempt to extend or expand the discourse. Actually, comments expand and extend the discourse. It is natural that a comment that invites another is treated as an extension.</p><p>Comments on other comments are follow-up moves in the discourse. The Initiation move is actually the update. It is what has prompted a reaction or response.</p><p>One problem is that making comments on comments without first reading the update may lead to another error of diversion.</p><p>This brings me to a class of comments that I find interesting: comments that have no direct relevance to ongoing discourse. The commenters seem to leave them to fulfill all righteousness. It's as if commenting is a must and so people commenting have complied as required.</p><p>This reminds me of some people not waiting for the typing of the update to be completed before making their comments. Why the rush? The author of the update may still have some editing to do!</p><p>What else do we expect of discourse in the public space? Some contributions would merely cause confusion or try to disrupt a coherent and ongoing one.</p><p>Commenters may also show an awareness of the need to avoid infringement on other's wants as in normal conversation, wants like includedness, abilities, and pursuits. Interestingly, Facebook has been developed to help readers clearly indicate whom the comment is addressing. Specificity is ensured through the mentioning of linked names, not just through the normal flow of the discussion.</p><p>We expect a comment to extend the discourse. A comment can extend the discourse by</p><p>(1) Citing another case that could throw more light on the issue at stake, make a refutation, etc. Such extensions provide useful inroads to intertertextuality or cohabitation of texts. Indeed, updates invite other texts, making intertextuality unavoidable.</p><p>(2) A comment can extend the discourse by addressing another aspect of the theme that is not given attention. Readers may be interested in this trajectory.</p><p>Indeed, we may be educated through comments. That is one reason we should not treat them as something unimportant.</p>Obododimma Ohahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12343801060254012161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4519759173355297763.post-17941500157481311112022-04-21T05:05:00.008-07:002022-04-21T05:12:45.835-07:00Silent Storms<p> </p><p dir="ltr"><br /></p>
<p dir="ltr">By</p>
<p dir="ltr">Obododimma Oha</p>
<p dir="ltr">The title of this essay is from a poem by Bimbola Faith. Naturally, storms are noisy and do frighten some of us. So, to talk of "silent storms" is to make the reader think twice. Poets use expressions that confuse us, to force us to scratch our heads, sometimes contradictory expressions . In that kind of case, one just has to read and re-read. After reading and rereading Faith's "Ray of Hope" and encountering "silent storms," I thought deeply about its meanings.</p>
<p dir="ltr">When I think of storms, what comes to my mind is destruction, tearing, mangling, explosion, death and pain.</p>
<p dir="ltr">But applied to human life, we are told by psychologists that some storms are good for us. A little stress keeps us well exercised.</p>
<p dir="ltr">The poem interestingly puts storms against smiles. So, these "storms" are not the normal ones we know. Different experiences understood as "storms." The poet even qualifies the storms as operating silently within many the human being.</p>
<p dir="ltr">But culture is there to help us."Dimpled smiles" and even "ray of hope." Rays give warmth and dimples are seen as indexical signs of beauty in many African cultures. But that dimples are indicators of presence of beauty is simplistic. There is nothing in that depression on the temple that can signify beauty. In fact, elsewhere and other times, dimples could suggest ugliness.</p>
<p dir="ltr">"Ray of Hope" is calming. Consoling. Ray is actually hope, a connotation that is welcoming. It suggests a good management of the silent storms.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Let us consider the storm more closely.<br />
(1) It is not heard outside the person.<br />
(2) They are still destructive (" ravaging").<br />
(3) They are deceptive in the signification that follows.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Tears are also signs of pain from the storm. The storms bring sadness. They give birth to "tearing eyes." </p>
<p dir="ltr">But there is still hope.</p>
<p dir="ltr">The poet chooses to be elliptical about the acts of the silent storms. So, we have to imagine them? Biting instead of kissing? Frisking instead of hugging? Slapping instead of laughing foolishly? </p>
<p dir="ltr">I don't like storms, whether metaphorical or real. They scare me. Last time I read <span style="color: #888888;">*</span><i>Kontiki Expedition</i><span style="color: #888888;">*</span>and <span style="color: #888888;">*</span><i>Treasure Island</i><span style="color: #888888;">*</span>,I had to hold the person nearby to be able to sleep.</p>
<p dir="ltr">No poem, they say, is ever finished. Only abandoned. And so I believe that we are only given the introduction in "Ray of Hope." The full poem is on the way, just like this brief essay.</p>Obododimma Ohahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12343801060254012161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4519759173355297763.post-7527603829608112352022-03-24T01:56:00.005-07:002022-03-24T01:56:33.657-07:00I Miss Canaan City<p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>By</p><p><br /></p><p>Obododimma Oha</p><p><br /></p><p>I miss Canaan City</p><p>I miss the sweet breeze</p><p>And filtered air that kisses my nose</p><p><br /></p><p>I miss Edikang Ikong</p><p>And menu prepared with washed hands</p><p>Honestly, food is ready!</p><p><br /></p><p>I miss smooth skin</p><p>And life well-looked after</p><p>I miss life</p><p><br /></p><p>I miss Canaan City</p><p>And her pleasures</p><p>I miss the land</p><p>That keeps my heart.</p>Obododimma Ohahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12343801060254012161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4519759173355297763.post-40448134885615131692022-03-02T01:13:00.003-08:002022-03-02T01:15:59.296-08:00A Trouble-maker<p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>By</p><p><br /></p><p>Obododimma Ọha</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>In a world where things are standing</p><p>On their heads, if you still know</p><p>Your right and your left</p><p>Then, you're a trouble-maker.</p><p><br /></p><p>If tell people to do the right thing</p><p>How do you know</p><p>The right thing?</p><p>What makes the right thing right?</p><p><br /></p><p>Only trouble-makers</p><p>Talk of the right thing</p><p>Or do the right thing</p><p>Peaceful souls see and deny.</p><p><br /></p><p>In this new world</p><p>Right is terribly wrong</p><p>And wrong is wrong</p><p>Because it is hidden.</p><p><br /></p><p>So, Trouble-maker, you are wrong</p><p>Because you know right things still.</p><div><br /></div>Obododimma Ohahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12343801060254012161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4519759173355297763.post-16398006354221136342021-12-09T13:04:00.023-08:002021-12-09T23:03:53.444-08:00Brother Dash Me <p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>By</p><p><br /></p><p>Obododimma Oha</p><p><br /></p><p>There was a time that in local areas in Nigeria one was considered lucky to inherit things used by one's elder brothers and sisters. One always looked forward to wearing the same clothes, shoes, handbands, etc or carry the same bags they carried as young people. It was like following their footsteps or waking on the same road that they walked. It was a thing of pride and one was glad to be involved.</p><p>From what some spiritualists tell us, putting on someone's clothes is like wearing that person's skin. Wearing a brother's or sister's skin could be a good thing, after all they were both housed in the womb for some time. That is an important connection. Creation has a plan in this togetherness. So, it is a good idea to wear brother's or sister's skin. </p><p>Those who wanted to kill one's joy or were dying of envy would label the inherited things "Brother of Me." It could be observable that what one was wearing was inherited because it might not be one's size exactly. So, it was dismissed as "Brother Dash Me" and as owned by someone else. If a Brother gave out a pair of trousers, the inheritor just had to go and see a tailor later with it. Same for skirt or blouse. It was very easy to recognize a "Brother Dash Me." </p><p>But, before the fuller discourse, let us look closely at the language used in the labeling. The senior is a "Brother," with a rising on the first syllable of the word. If that is not a phonological appeal, what else is? Plus a gratitude. "Brother's" place as the high in the discourse is still preserved, but that is to "undress" the proud wearer of oversize.</p><p>There is also some Nigerian pidgin there - - "dash." A gift is just a "dash," which means the giver does not really need it and has no reason not to give it away. That is an indirect way of saying the gift is worthless. </p><p>It is not a birthday gift. It is not a gift from Father Christmas. It is purely a discard. That is a greater way of using language to kill the spirit of the wearer. Little wonder many have now kept away from "Brother Dash Me." </p><p>One interesting thing about this "Brother Dash Me" is that what someone used to cherish has gone to someone else. That reminds me about our valuing of our offices and things as if we would keep them forever. Don't they say in Nigeria, "Soja go, soja come. Barrack remain"? ("Soldier goes soldier comes barracks remains"). Our personal office today will be someone else's office tomorrow. We cannot be around forever. That is why it is important to make the future strong, indeed, stronger! That baton must be handed over to the next mate in the race. </p><p>"Brother Dash Me" did many other things that I liked very much. It did something to relationship. It made it become stronger and warmer. Of course, one expects someone covered by another person to be warmer. And so we are not surprised at this warmth in the relationship.</p><p>"Brother Dash Me" further reveals one vital thing about sustenance in the society where it occurred. It shows that the inheritors did not expect parents to provide clothings and other things all the time. It is true that parents have played a major role in bringing people into this world but don't have to be the ones to provide all their needs. So, we find some rural areas laboring and doing things to be able to help themselves. Even their communities have lived not to wait for government but simply depending on the goodwill of citizens to build bridges, repair roads, build schools and hospitals, even police posts! So, brothers and sisters even have macro application. Brothers would always "dash", as we find in many parts of Nigeria's South East. </p><p>"Brother Dash Me" means that Brother cares and will continue to care. Brother is your covering and your warmth. Sister, too. In this journey. In this weather. </p><p>On another note, one could see the spirit of communalism and sharing at work. That spirit of the communalism is interrogated in the "Brother Dash Me" ridicule of individualism. The womb of our meeting and housing is no longer considered. </p><p>In Nigeria these days, one sees used things from overseas on sale. Clothes. Shoes. Bags. Even underwear! These are not "Brother Dash Me" again for they have been bought from the market! They are not someone's life going to another person. One has paid to have them. They are not items for "dash." </p><p>Brother, sister, look back, at your back, and continue to "dash." </p><div><br /></div>Obododimma Ohahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12343801060254012161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4519759173355297763.post-64097818979639361832021-11-30T06:29:00.024-08:002022-07-05T07:33:41.548-07:00Daddy's Stuff <p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>By</p><p><br /></p><p>Obododimma Oha</p><p><br /></p><p>I gave my son my computer to use for a while beccause his own was bad but warned him not to tamper with my files. He promised not to. When he returned the computer, the files were intact (to my great joy) but l discovered that he had done something worth thinking about. He had created a folder for my files and had named the folder "Daddy's Stuff." It was not just just that he spared my files to avoid trouble or created the folder. It was more : the language that he used in the naming was something else. Stuff? He must have wondered what to call the folder of things I valued. OK, look at my music! Albums from Osita Osadebe, Oliver de Coque, Oriental Brothers, Warrior! No hip hop! From their cobwebbed music you shall know them! This stuff fellow must be living in the past, he must have concluded. These and other things were just "stuff" to him.</p><p>It was also possible that there was an attempt to use Daddy's Stuff on that reading table to read Daddy's Stuff on the computer : half-eaten kola nut, many open books, bush lantern facing an ancient electric reading lamp, a grandfather clock, etc. The computer must have have become the new porter helping Daddy to carry all these stuff in the marketplace of life! </p><p>Okay, just think about what the stuff fellow's desktop would look like. Things and things! In fact, a desktop of things, of stuff and stuff! </p><p>I lent out my computer but that was a world encountering another world and showing its exception in language, in its major signifying system. I exposed my world and should learn from it. Technology sharing would not save the day. Language is, indeed, more helpful, more revealing. </p><p>The choices we make in language can suggest what we are and where we are. If "stuff" designates my "orishirishi," the unrecognizable, what does my language also say about that other language, at least as a way of talking back? </p><p>Well, the stuff fellow's world does not use derogatory description. The values of a world and its technology are all there to do something. So, my" stuff" may look strange but that "stuff" has done much for me. It is worlds armed with language as a weapon and which see values as "stuff" that need to be pitied. It is that world where life means nothing, where nests could be set ablaze, that need to be pitied. </p><p>My music suggested difference and strangeness. Yes. Strangeness! Not even Michael Jackson! How could I value albums by Oriental Brothers and Osadebe? That was crazy, it seemed. But what if these musical albums are a kind of hip hop? That means that stuff rappers should also start thinking of relationships of things thought not to related. Is it not possible that every item is just a stuff? </p><p>I would have been rejoicing if my son copied and played any of my music stuff! "Lai! Lai!" as they say in Nigeria. Has he finished playing his hip hop and "Yankee" music to think of playing stuff music? That would be stranger than strange! </p><p>My stuff music gives someone belly ache, I was told, and the retaliation comes in the form of loud hip hop or "Yankee." So, I respect and protect my stuff world, even if its music cannot inspire other worlds. </p><p>Daddy's Stuff is a folder for some reasons. In it someone has folded up a world. But the challenge is to open up a closed world, to explore that world for opportunities and to learn lessons. </p><p>Now we know that Daddy's Stuff is Daddy's world. Strange or Estranged world. But, importantly, the stuff is not only music. It is a world of things. The music saying deep things, giving out philosophies. There are paintings and drawings and debates in social media. In fact, Daddy's Stuff is a great puzzle. A strange world. </p><p>A world should not remain closed. It has to give and be ready to receive. Not folding or closing up. It has to have something to give, not just lie and receive. And it should think about what it is giving. </p><p>Now Daddy's Stuff is not here within reach! </p><p>Welcome, my stuff. You could have been deleted! And replaced with a movie or reigning musical. What would he do? At most, he would rave and rave and disturb the whole forest. He would make noise and threaten hellfire. Then, moody for days. And that's all. The stuff is gone forever, gone for good and the forest is safe again. </p><p>So, welcome really my stuff. You could have gone for good. Welcome from Hades. You could have gone forever! </p><p>Daddy's Stuff reminds me about the fact that there is new life and there is a new language in town. It is is better to know it to know where one is. It is better and safer. </p><p>Welcome, my computer. Welcome, things and things. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Obododimma Ohahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12343801060254012161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4519759173355297763.post-66332517031464128492021-11-28T08:20:00.008-08:002021-11-30T07:24:32.398-08:00"He Is My Brother" When We Are Only from the Same Town, not from the Same Mother <p> "He Is My Brother" When We Are Only from the Same Town, not from the Same Mother</p><p><br /></p><p>By</p><p><br /></p><p>Obododimma Oha</p><p><br /></p><p>Relationship of people is not defined in many African communities as it is defined in the Western. Thus, if Biko Agozino is from Anambra State in Nigeria and I am from that state also, he becomes my "brother," even though we are not from the same mother, not even from the same town. Biko is Igbo and I am Igbo. That is one connection. Both of us attended the same university in Nigeria once upon time, but our paths parted. He went his Eskor Toyor way and I Achebe-ed mine. However to be many Africans, Biko is just my "brother," after all, he is Igbo and Obododimma is also Igbo! Translation problem? Perception? Relativity? Communalism? What is happening in this kind of discourse, ?</p><p>For many speakers of Igbo, "He Is My Brother" may be one easy way of running away from the translation problem in" nwanne." Literally," nwanne " means " offspring of my mother. " It is a very poor translation to call a kinsperson or someone from my state " my brother. " That is clearly misleading! In fact, a fraud tendency! So, my brother, you are not my brother! My sister, you are not my sister! </p><p>The idea of " my African brother " or " my African sister," or "Nigerian brother" is just a fiction. Invent and express it, but it doesn't exist or it has ceased to exist. It is one of those fictions that have given you your haircut!</p><p>How am I your "brother"? Did you remember to give me part of the trillions of dollars you borrowed from out there? Truly, my brother, you are not a good brother, if a brother at all! You need to share the thing. </p><p>We know that a speaker may use " my brother" just to negotiate intimacy, to draw closer to the addressee. We know that slippery slope. </p><p>But, apart from this stylistic use, many who prefer "my bother" to other choices actually appeal to a primordial sentiment, talking about about an assumed closeness and asking for support on the basis of this imagined closeness. That appeal to an imagined closeness is fraudulent. It expects preferential treatment and authorizes it. </p><p>Apart from language, religion is another force that promotes the ingroupness in the metaphors of fictional "brother" and "sister." A "brother" and a "sister" are better people and should get better treatment, it is assumed. Can you see how that kind of ingroupness unites? </p><p>Indeed, religion brings in a phonological color! It puts an accent, a rising tone, on the last syllable. That makes a shibboleth a schibboleth at last! </p><p>Recognizing and addressing somebody in the same religious group as "brother" or "sister" could also be deceitful. Who does not know that someone with an ulterior motive could just memorize catch phrases like "God bless you" and "Remain blessed" and use them to pretend to be sincere and get a target easily? So, my brother, you may not be my brother! To be cautious! </p><p>Oh, one may be guilty of appealing to primordial sentiment, too. Although I don't use "brother" and "sister," don't I address my students sometimes as my "children," still invoking the family configuration? I will ask my students to discuss the address tag in this configuration, but with some sympathy in their criticism. </p><p>That reminds me: am I not just referred to as "Broda" by my nephews and nieces, especially in our village? Sometimes the /r/ in "Broda" is stylistically made silent. Another trap with language, only imagined! Who knows what your "uncle" means? You are telling us it's more appropriate? It is cold and not quite complimentary to mouths waiting to chew bread and biscuits. Similarly, that woman who is related to Daddy is "Sista." Call her "Sista" if you want her to rub your hair and give you a special treatment and "that woman" if you want a knock on the head. </p><p>You can also call her "anti," even if you have no blood relationship. You just have to get something from her, something not painful! </p><p>Oh, we are forgetting something : a "broda" could become "uncle." As the need arises. As the spirit moves a speaker. </p><p>And, this earth, my brother. It is now standing upside-down and on one leg only. This dislocation, my brother. Where do you go and hide, my brother? Even in the countryside, you cannot shut your eyes (that is, if the house has not been burned down). This earth, my brother. </p><p>Brother, broda, booda! Strategic transforms, but with very deep meanings! We may not have come from the same mother. But we should know that we could be addressed as "brother" in this world where things strategic are done with words. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Obododimma Ohahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12343801060254012161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4519759173355297763.post-59021170178393240262021-11-25T02:42:00.020-08:002021-12-11T02:35:53.127-08:00Thomas Iyambe <p> </p><p>By</p><p><br /></p><p>Obododimma Oha</p><p><br /></p><p>Anyone who is searching the archives on staff of Cameroon Development Corporation (CDC) would find that one Thomas Iyambe of Banga who "absconded" from duty from the gang clearing the bush for the plantations, later became a young man, so energetic that he was put in the last line of laborers so that he would be forcing escaping wild animals to run to the center, to their doom. What actually happened was that the real Thomas Iyambe disappeared for good and a young man who came from Uri (Uli) in Nigeria agreed to be him, so as to be allowed to work as a laborer in CDC.</p><p>Absence created an opportunity for presence. If the old Iyambe had not "escaped," the new Iyambe would not have come. Two Iyambes: Iyambe of Banga and Iyambe of Uri, an Igbo. So, Iyambe yesterday and today. Iyambe lazy and Iyambe hardworking and energetic. Iyambe old and Iyambe young again. </p><p>It was quite interesting that my late father was "Lawrence" in Nigeria but "Thomas" in Cameroon, not that he was rechristened but had to take another identity in order to survive as a young man. </p><p>It wasn't just that "Thomas Iyambe" had become someone else but shows how labels could mislead us. There's no real Thomas Iyambe anywhere. Thomas Iyambe could become another label. And life in the plantation gang went on. Truly, small no be sick! </p><p>So, my own father was once called "Thomas Iyambe"? He could even have been known as "Paul Biya"! Paul Biya of the CDC plantation. It was just a matter of labeling and re-labeling. </p><p>Thomas Iyambe! Present, sir! </p><p>But I don't know whether the person that was labeled "Thomas Iyambe" would also not mind answering my father's name if required to bear it. We need to find out. This earth, my brother, my sister. You can only guess and let your guess remain a guess. What is good for the goose may not be good enough for the gander. Ganders are choosy these days! </p><p>When one Thomas Iyambe goes, another Thomas Iyambe comes. That is how it should be, ad infinitum. There should be a deferment of Iyambes. Iyambes uncatchable. Iyambes always many, more than legion. </p><p>Maybe one Iyambe would seek to attack and destroy its kind one day. The problem of uncomfortable similarity. Uncomfortable oneness. I won't be surprised if one Thomas Iyambe attacks and tries to destroy another Thomas Iyambe. Maybe destroy the old Iyambe. We are not very comfortable with our kind, what more a replacement! One Thomas Iyambe may want to see justice done. But to self! </p><p>Thomas Iyambe must have suffered in looking for where there was Thomas Iyambe penned down on paper. From plantation to plantation. Looking for self. From Miselele to Banana Bush. From Tiko to Yaounde. Looking for self in the overseer's paper. </p><p>Thomas Iyambe is a sign of vanishing you and reappearing you. Many selves in oneself, one self. Thomas Iyambe that cannot be caught, trapped in one plantation. </p><p>It is clear to me now that "Thomas Iyambe" is just another label put on a human being and could be replaced. Thomas Iyambe, you are just a sign used by humans. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Obododimma Ohahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12343801060254012161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4519759173355297763.post-84257956369600836032021-11-04T03:50:00.013-07:002021-11-04T06:42:38.512-07:00The Children from the City<p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>By</p><p><br /></p><p>Obododimma Oha</p><p><br /></p><p>In those days, children from the city were our big problem. They came to the local area during Christmas or New Year celebrations and showed off a lot. Was it the ways that they spoke and what they spoke? Was it what they took and how they took it? Was it the clothes that they wore? Even the ways that they walked! The children from the city deliberately went for us and against us. And we did not like it. So, they were a problem, a great problem.</p><p>I still remember how one held and drank from a bottle of "Mirinda." Obviously, he wanted me to watch, to die quietly, to see one child deal with precious liquid in a bottle, all alone! And when he gulped down the liquid, I, too, swallowed, but I swallowed no liquid, not to talk of a precious one.</p><p>Only one child drinking a whole bottle! They did not even dilute the drink with some water before he started taking it. Too bad. That's how the city spoils them.</p><p>It wasn't just that one child could drink a whole bottle, but even the way that child drank it and looked at the onlooker, as if to proclaim, "Yes. I did it. Can you also do it? Go and die!" That was clearly more than provocative making one hate the city more.</p><p>As I said initially, they visited mainly during celebrations. Celebrations, indeed. They just ruined everything for us in the village and one secretly prayed that they won't be around. When one should be enjoying the carols and sharing the proceeds, they came to kill the joy. Celebration turned to bitterness and regret. I hated children from the city.</p><p>The children from the city were always arrogant. They are mainly interested in showing children from the village that the city children are different and better. They believed that they had better life, while one in the village had no life. Imagine children who could not climb trees! Imagine children who could not blow the fire! Imagine children who could not fetch fodder for goats, not to talk of knowing the names of the plants!</p><p>They did not eat cassava foofoo. No wonder they didn't have energy. It was only rice! Imagine feeding on bird's food. If one eats bird's food, what does one expect birds to eat? Yam and cocoyam?</p><p>What they uttered was also annoying. They spoke what they called English, "oybo sụprị sụprị." You need to see how those children from the city twisted their mouths as they spoke "oyibo," just to torment us. </p><p>The children of the village knew proverbs and how to embellish speech in the local language. But, who cares? Who really cares for your embellishment in the speech of the past? We just envied the children from the city there.</p><p>Then, their clothes. They had better clothes with lots of pockets for things. I wished I had such. One pocket just for my treasured things. Another pocket for ropes. Another for bread labels. And so on. Well, their clothes had lots of pockets, which was important to me.</p><p>They were proud very proud that they had better clothes and ours were just rags. How could one's clothes for Christmas, Easter, or New Year be called "rags"? I knew that most of them were "ekobe," which was ready-made and quickly done. But they were no rags and must have cost a lot of money obtained painfully through contributions at meetings and gifts at the carols. They were not rags. I knew that the children from the city must have said that to kill one's spirit.</p><p>How could one even forget the ways that the children from the city walked to show that they did not care? The same way that they carelessly widened the mouth while speaking, to show that they could talk rubbish or had no training on speaking. They deliberately walked as if they were drunk or want to take the entire space as people coming in the opposite direction.</p><p>I know that the whole idea was to make an unthinking idiot dislike the village, a place where a child could explore every bush eat every wild fruit with unwashed hands, walk barefooted and even naked. There was no way one was would prefer the city to the village.</p><p>The children from the city need to listen to us, watch us, and learn from us. </p>Obododimma Ohahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12343801060254012161noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4519759173355297763.post-70261919244066675462021-11-03T05:27:00.014-07:002022-03-08T05:56:06.756-08:00Mother Hen Is Chasing Her Children Away <p><br /></p>
<p dir="ltr">By<br /></p>
<p dir="ltr">Obododimma Oha</p>
<p dir="ltr">Hens look after their chicks with utmost dedication. They can even die for them, not to talk of making sure that they are well-fed. So, hens are not wicked when they peck at their young sometimes and drive them away to begin to look after themselves. Experts in poultry farming call this attempt to make the grown-up chicken live on its own "weaning." Among humans, this is similar to what is called "ịchụ ara" (stopping from breastfeeding), which, traditionally, every nursing mother has to do after about one year. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Weaning, in whichever forms it comes, is an attempt to make the young grow up. This growing up involves looking for food, defending itself when attacked, home making, etc. They have to learn how to hide from carnivorous aviators that may want to kidnap them.<br /></p>
<p dir="ltr">But humans are not just good in it. They tend to protect and provide for their young too much. They behave selfishly as if their young is their property, for them alone! In the process they don't really wean. They want the young ones to live close, to make sure they are safe. They don't drive them away!</p>
<p dir="ltr">Mother Hen is telling the young ones: "Grow up from now on. Learn to wrestle with the world. Learn to look after yourself. Your life is yours, your future yours. Go and wrestle with the world." Mother Hen is a realist. Mother Hen is just an agent and should not be turned to the goal! </p>
<p dir="ltr">It's all about dependence and independence. In independence, an entity labours and tries to survive on own efforts, but with dependence, it has to parasite and live on the efforts of others. Unoka of <span style="color: #888888;">*</span><i>Things Fall Apart</i><span style="color: #888888;">*</span> is a good example of the sad things in dependence. He has to record his indebtedness with lines of chalk. A sad narrative, the record tells about his dependence. Taking loans and not bothering about repayment is not good life. Whether at individual or societal level, indebtedness does not guarantee honour or give respect. As the Igbo say, "Onye añụñụ ọgọdọ anaghị agbasi egwu ike" (One who borrows clothes for a dance does not dance energetically or dances extra cautiously). Yes, the clothes may get torn and that borrower would be in trouble. If that person is even commended, somebody may say: "Is it not because of the clothes that fellow borrowed? Don't we know the owner?"</p>
<p dir="ltr"> <br />
Weaning is all about asking the weaned to learn to take initiatives, to make choices, actually, to take a risk, which is what life involves. </p>
<p dir="ltr">The time shall come when we all must go our separate ways. The time shall come. It is a matter of time. The Igbo would say: "Ụkwa ruo oge ya, ọ daa." Can I be helped by my father who was buried more than 20 years ago?</p>
<p dir="ltr">Mother Hen in that homestead is wiser than its owner. It is chasing her children away. It wants them to learn to live on their own. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Mother Hen scratched forwards. Then scratched backwards. Turned and looked at the two. Then asked her chicks:" The accumulated garbage in the front and the one at the back, which is greater?" They answered : "The garbage in the front." She said : "You answered well. From now, my pet name is 'Nkeiruka' (The one in front is greater). Then one in the future or that is coming is greater." They understood and continued feeding. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Mother Hen is a great teacher. A great teacher allows students to teach themselves. <br />
</p>Obododimma Ohahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12343801060254012161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4519759173355297763.post-44974034273728331902021-09-14T04:08:00.006-07:002021-09-14T04:11:37.127-07:00The Return <p> </p><p>By</p><p><br /></p><p>Obododimma Oha</p><p><br /></p><p>If she goes to market</p><p>And does not return</p><p>And he does not look for her</p><p>He is heartless and irresponsible</p><p><br /></p><p>If she goes to market</p><p>And allows herself to be carried away</p><p>By the looks of things</p><p>Things flashy and misleading </p><p>And forgets to go home </p><p>Something may be wrong with her</p><p><br /></p><p>If she turns this fish over ten times</p><p>And haggles over that biscuit </p><p>Maybe she is not buying </p><p>Only touching the market </p><p>And will pretend to have lost an amount </p><p><br /></p><p>If she remains when all have gone home</p><p>She has turned to gofment pickin</p><p>Or has become a vulture </p><p>Tell her people she has to return </p><p>And not turn the market upside-down</p><p><br /></p>Obododimma Ohahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12343801060254012161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4519759173355297763.post-48691182056982487542021-09-12T09:17:00.012-07:002021-09-12T09:34:20.279-07:00Problem-solving in Amos Tutuola's The Palm-wine Drinkard <p><br /></p><p dir="ltr"><br /></p>
<p dir="ltr">By</p>
<p dir="ltr">Obododimma Oha</p>
<p dir="ltr">Many people who read <span style="color: #888888;">*</span><i>The Palm-wine Drinkard </i><span style="color: #888888;">*</span> by Amos Tutuola often focus on his use of language. That is to be expected, but one aspect of the narrative that should interest us is how it pictures problem-solving in Africa. It is along this line of thinking that I examine the novel briefly as a problem - solving narrative. </p>
<p dir="ltr">The narrator-protagonist likes drinking palm-wine but is in a fix because he has lost the person who taps the wine. Worse still, he does not know where this dead man has gone and cannot trace there, to tell him to come back. Nobody is willing to show him how to get there. So, he has to solve this problem. He has to work the solution out somehow. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Obviously, this is a serious philosophical problem for him to try to solve. It is a problem that affects his life and whose solution would shape his future. Normally, the first reaction would be to ask people. But they would not respond to help him solve the problem. So, he has to use cleverness and indirect means. </p>
<p dir="ltr">This shows us something about cleverness and survival, something the tortoise knows very well, as shown in many narratives. As the Igbo would say: "Anụ gbata ajọ ọsọ, a gbanyere ya ajọ egbe" (When an animal in a hunt runs badly, it has to be shot badly). So, the palm-wine drinker has to look for an "unusual" way to solve the problem. </p>
<p dir="ltr">So, what problems are at https://edutitra.blogspot.com/2021/09/problem-solving-in-amos-tutuolas-palm.htmlstake? What does one learn about problem-solving from the narrative? </p>
<p dir="ltr"> 1. According to the protagonist, he had been for days without drinking because his "tapster" was dead. Finding where his tapster was (a spirit), was his obligation. He was looking for his dead tapster. <br />
<br />
2. The second and related problem was the unwillingness of people to help him to locate his tapster. A man he approached in this regard even wanted to extend his "help" to become a punishment for the drinker's "foolishness" and to get rid of him finally by asking him to go and find Death, bind him, and bring. <br />
<br />
3. The secondary problem - - finding where Death lives - - was not simple. Nobody would help him out of fear of Death. So, this avoidance of such a discourse is a big problem. It demands an unusual approach. </p>
<p dir="ltr">The solutions are necessary, though not easy. Just like Africa moving to modernity and vibrant economy. Locating the dead tapster is dependent on locating where Death lives, binding the intangible that must become tangible, and bringing the terrible luggage. Solutions must utilize simple local methods, as we shall see. They require THINKING, not daily drinking of palm-wine. This thinking is what would help the drinkard. <br />
Now, let us see the solutions. </p>
<p dir="ltr"> 1. Locating where Death lives:<br />
As indicated earlier, this required solving another problem - - making the intangible to become tangible! Human discourse would not help too. So, one has to enlist the nonlinguistic. The drinkard goes and lies down legs spread out, at an "orita" or crossroad. This behavior forces some talkative marketpeople to stop and ask: "Who is the mother of this idiot lying at an" orita" with one leg pointing to Deadstown, where Death lives?" That gives away the solution that they are unwilling to give!<br /></p>
<p dir="ltr"> 2. The second is how to make the intangible tangible. This is just hard. Well, the narrative assumes that this is possible and involves switching of realities. In that case, the drinkard descends into a deeper fiction where Death is found, tied up, and brought to human world. Doesn't this constitute a big problem? These days, realities can switch places! <br /></p>
<p dir="ltr">Even though we could argue that too much drinking of wine could elicit this kind of fantasy, we know that some drunkards can see and say things. It is possible for a drunkard to catch death, tie the fellow up and bring him to the world. Even the possibility of making death tangible is what a drunkard could affirm.</p>
<p dir="ltr">What this suggests is that our Western logic and book knowledge would be wrong in giving the impression that all problems have to comply with straightforward thinking. In some contexts, the Western model would not work. The animal is running badly in the hunt and needs to be shot at badly. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Think about COVID-19. A local African may find remedy by plucking and eating some leaves or boiling some leaves as grandfather did, steaming thoroughly to clean the respiratory track. COVID-19 could avoid this Mr. Bones!</p>
<p dir="ltr">Many indigenous people in Africa that want to get confused after colonization, especially book people, should throw away their logic or think they can be Western. They are deceiving themselves. They can never be Western. </p>
<p dir="ltr"> Problems ask for solutions and in many indigenous societies in Africa, those solutions can be found somehow. Tutuola's narrative is partly about working out or finding the solution. This makes us thinking beings. </p>Obododimma Ohahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12343801060254012161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4519759173355297763.post-84956797424577946132021-08-26T10:32:00.002-07:002021-08-26T10:32:52.269-07:00OldManGuy<p> </p><p>By</p><p>Obododimma Oha </p><p><br /></p><p>Oldman Guy he would walk his bike</p><p>All the way</p><p>He would walk bent double</p><p>OldmanGuy he would growl</p><p>OldmanGuy he would bark</p><p>And you'd be forced to run</p><p>Run to your mother</p><p>Run into your mother's womb</p><p>OldmanGuy is coming</p><p>Coming to swallow you!</p><p><br /></p><p>OldmanGuy he would walk</p><p>As if on all fours</p><p>As if getting ready to pounce</p><p>OldmanGuy from the past of the past</p><p><br /></p><p>OldmanGuy now walking his bike</p><p>And bent double</p><p>In my adult dreams, in which I am still</p><p>Running to my mother for shelter </p><p>OldmanGuy is growling and coming. </p><p><br /></p>Obododimma Ohahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12343801060254012161noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4519759173355297763.post-69765380192841067202021-08-22T03:11:00.015-07:002021-08-30T23:52:15.616-07:00The Cow and What It Will Mop up with Its Tail<p> </p><p><br /></p><p>By</p><p><br /></p><p>Obododimma Oha</p><p><br /></p><p>Some countries have a cow problem. In fact, they can playfully be called "cowtries." In "cowtries" , cows move about freely and enter wherever they like. They are not kept on leash or in ranches. They can enter a garden or a farm and eat up the crops in the name of going natural. If the gardener or farmer complains, the idiot can be shot with AK-47 and nothing would happen. </p><p>In "cowtries," cows are more important than citizens. If a citizen kills a cow eating in a farm, such a citizen could be killed and the law would look the other way. In short, the cow is the law, the only law. The cow should actually wear a wig and sit on the bench. </p><p>But the Igbo have this lovely proverb: "Ehi ga-eji ọdụ ya tere ihe ọ nyụrụ" (The cow will mop up what it defecates with its tail). It is a warning as well as a consolation. So, the cow should stop now and think. It should stop moving around freely and entering wherever it likes. Otherwise, the devil. </p><p>The cow believes that it is defecating for others. No sir! It is defecating for itself. It may not know this but the excrement waits, steaming for somebody. It is a defecation and was cooked and dished out by someone. </p><p>The cow is the authority on excretion and owns excretion. Its tail is busy driving away flies in vain. The visiting flies saw the excretion and would like to report it well. The cow should stop terrorizing the visiting flies. The flies are on duty. </p><p>It is part of mopping up the excrement with the tail. Is the cow surprised? </p><p>One was wrong in thinking that it was only in movies on endtime that strange things could happen. One now knows better. </p><p>Cow rule is indeed an era in the endtime. If the cow takes over power, horns have come. And you know what horns could do. It has to be horns versus horns as the cow also confronts the excrement. Cow rule may occasion hurt, but expect endtime retaliation from the excrement.</p><p>Cows that defecate everywhere they enter should get ready for everywhere mop up. It is not only the garden and the farm now complaining. Everything in civilization is complaining bitterly. That's a lot of trouble. That's a lot of bitterness there.</p><p>That is not to say that you don't have rights, cows. But these are not the right to transgress and beat your chest. It is not right to be wrong, cows.</p><p>As a matter of fact, you ,are the only cows. Country folks are also cows. Don't they have colonies and routes? Don't they follow the herder from Washington to Paris? Don't they follow successful coup plotters and damn unsuccessful ones? They should respect cattle culture!</p><p>Anyway, we will all mop up our defecations. Tailless cows are lucky! </p>Obododimma Ohahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12343801060254012161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4519759173355297763.post-39545607053402061142021-08-18T14:11:00.008-07:002021-08-18T14:30:08.136-07:00The Many Englishes of the Nigerian in America <p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>By</p><p><br /></p><p>Obododimma Oha</p><p><br /></p><p>This essay has been inspired by a Facebook update by the historian, Moses Ebe Ochonu. In the update, Ochonu writes :</p><p><br /></p><p>It just occurred to me that I speak many Englishes. The English I speak to my children is different from the one I speak with my folks in Nigeria, which is radically different from the one with my students and other US folks. </p><p><br /></p><p>You would agree with me that this update is provocative and exciting, not just that it reveals the nature of an immigrant's English pluralism, but it reveals something about standing one leg in the "Inner Circle" of English and the other leg in the "Outer Circle." Braj Kachru locates native speakers of English found in places like Britain and America as belonging to the Inner Circle of English, while those on whom English was imposed through colonization, such as Nigeria and Ghana, belong to the Outer Circle. While the Inner Circle is norm producing (that is, it dictates correctness) the Outer Circle is norm using or norm consuming. Don't scratch your skull. Tokunbo culture could extend to language and language teaching! Did I say anything? </p><p>Anyway, a bit on Ochonu. This man was born and brought up in the Outer Circle but he is a distinguished professor of History in an American university. He has also been living in the US with his family for a long while, only visiting Nigeria once in a while. So, his world is characterized by the twonesss of Inner and Outer Englishness. He also writes regularly on Facebook and his updates initiate important discourses. Obviously, Ochonu is a name among names, among African scholars of the moment. </p><p> Now, that update of his. First, his use of the word "folks" exposes his Americanness. Some other people may be inclined to use that word, but our man carries it as the snail carries its shell. One could perceive America there. In the Outer Circle, people don't say "folks" except when they want to appear American and affected. So, Ochonu is doing something in its choice, suggesting his difference. </p><p>Then, the bigger issue : the version of English with which he communicates with his children is different from the one with which he communicates with his "folks" in Nigeria! Natural. But what is commendable is that Ochonu shows sensitivity of differences of context in doing so. He does not try to show off his Americanness to his "folks" as such in Nigeria. Context puts an obligation on him as a speaker of English. He is not the only diasporic Nigerian that does this anyway. I know so many Nigerian professors living in the US with their families who consciously speak like touts in Onitsha or Lagos whenever they visit Nigeria. Why are they not showing off their Americanness in their use of English? </p><p>OK, if Ochonu tries to speak a Nigerian English while communicating with Nigerians in Nigeria and American English while communicating with his children in America (essentially to be understood), why is his English in communicating with his students and other Americans still different from the one he uses at home (in America)? He uses a variety of the language expected in these contexts so as not to be ridiculed. The music of his speech (which American students would dislike and call accent) could jeopardize his interactions in these contexts. </p><p>This dislike for "accent" in the educational system is getting to other parts of the globe rapidly. It is a kind of shibboleth signifying to learners whom to trusts his or her knowledge and whom to distrust! Imagine. In that case, Outer Circle individuals who want to be natural cannot be so in the Inner Circle. Quite disturbing. </p><p>But the most important thing is what this all suggests about the Outer Circle diaspora person. Such a person is multilingual and multilectal. As in the case of Ochonu, the diaspora person standing between Outer and Inner Circle has to speak many varieties of English or many Englishes. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Obododimma Ohahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12343801060254012161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4519759173355297763.post-36407015940029577662021-07-19T11:45:00.018-07:002021-07-19T14:08:05.985-07:00The Text without a Full-stop<p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>By</p><p><br /></p><p>Obododimma Oha</p><p><br /></p><p>Two things become very clear to me. First, anybody could be a poet. Poets don't have to have grey hair or wear unkempt beard. Just anyone could be a poet. Was that not why an Igbo sage warned that if we have too much on our minds, we might pass a spirit unknowingly and fail to greet?</p><p><br /></p><p>Secondly, it has become glaring that poets are not just writing poems. A poet may be rigorously theorizing. Just as many African ancestors used proverbs and folktales to theorize. Poets' theories on texts, societies, etc could be particularly interesting. It is on that basis that one would like to comment on Bimbola Faith's poem below. </p><p><br /></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"> that full-stop you
saw<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">did not end that
sentence<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">that full-stop<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">was never the closure
to the text<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">for behind every dot
on the page<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">are thousands and
millions of unspoken texts<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">countless pieces of
allophones, phones and phonemes<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">innumerable companies
of allomorphs, morphemes and words <o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">heavy, horrendous,
homongous emotion<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">open, borderless,
boundless, deep, vast feelings <o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">but all approximated
into a grunt, a tear or a smile <o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">many things to say<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">many things unsaid<o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">many things unsayable
<o:p></o:p></p><p><!--StartFragment-->
<!--EndFragment--></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">everything rounded
off to a dot</p><p>One thing that is noticeable is the shape of the poem: first, it is centralized and there is minimal punctuation, especially full-stop, at the end! And the poem is talking about full-stop and text-making! Punctuation marks or pauses could be check-points we create here and there on the highway of the text. They create borders and boundaries to the stream of speech unnecessarily. By the way, did you notice that the poem was given no title? That could be deliberate. Don't titles that we give articles and books imply their having borders of meaning, of ideation? </p><p><br /></p><p>It means the poet would like us to shift from the sentence as we know it to the text and stop thinking of check-points. If we think too much about the sentence or make our grammar too sentential, then we would think of having check-points and they could slow our journey down! </p><p><br /></p><p>But apart from slowing down the journey to meaning, other things in the journey are worth thinking about. One could think of the "innumerable" morphemes and allomorphs, the phonemes and their friends. The unfathomable "vast feelings" and grunts that cannot be accounted for while checking the sentences for correctness. In addition, certain emotions can be uttered, some not uttered, and some beyond utterance. </p><p><br /></p><p>It is obvious that the poet is in the frightening zone of post-structuralism. It is typical of these thinkers who populate deconstruction to focus on texts and to discourage attachment to sentence grammar. Same for the later versions of systemic linguistics. Their fascination is with text grammar. </p><p><br /></p><p>This is clearly exemplified in the poem. The text and the world must be linked up. No boundaries. No check-points. No delays on this search for meaning. That ideological trash and that pragmatic statement about "everything" being "rounded off" can show us where we are secretly going. There is always some gain in checking how text and context are linked. </p><p><br /></p><p>The more I read the untitled poem, the more I learn about the text and test myself on text-making in this troubled world. Same way I learnt some years ago about post-structuralist metafiction, while supervising a PhD project on it. We learn everyday and should be humble enough to allow the poem to theorize about the text and to teach us. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Obododimma Ohahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12343801060254012161noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4519759173355297763.post-44125095564851389852021-07-19T03:28:00.006-07:002021-07-19T03:40:57.974-07:00ENDTIME BLUES <p><br /></p><p>BY</p><p><br /></p><p>OBODODIMMA OHA </p><p><br /></p><p>It is endtime, my friend </p><p>You can no longer sneeze or cough</p><p>If you do that</p><p>At a community meeting</p><p>Everybody would run away </p><p>Wetin e carry?</p><p>COVID? </p><p>E suppose die now! </p><p>There's fire on the mountain </p><p>Run run run</p><p><br /></p><p>Coughing and sneezing should have</p><p>Their own police</p><p>To monitor transgressions!</p><p> </p><p>No coughing allowed here </p><p>No sneezing allowed there </p><p>Says COVID police </p><p>Transgressors and terrorists beware</p><p>Be aware.</p>Obododimma Ohahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12343801060254012161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4519759173355297763.post-82262459722188746702021-06-14T00:34:00.003-07:002021-06-14T00:34:30.612-07:00Squirrels Complaining <p>By</p><p>Obododimma Oha</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>Somebody touches that mango tree, </p><p>"Oh, the whole tree has been sold to Mama X</p><p>And you know she uses juju" </p><p>Somebody touches that orange tree, </p><p>" No, it has been sold to Mama Y,</p><p>And she's a fighter."</p><p>Somebody touches that pineapple, </p><p>"No way, it has been sold to Mama Z,</p><p>And she's only waiting for it to get ripe...."</p><p><br /></p><p>Mangoes and oranges and pineapple </p><p>Are for the market. </p><p>You need the money to pay contributions. </p><p>Later, you can go and buy medicines </p><p>From that illiterate in that shop. </p><p><br /></p><p>No wonder you die suddenly </p><p>" Gone Too Soon"</p><p>You are already dead,!</p>Obododimma Ohahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12343801060254012161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4519759173355297763.post-50446585752597742802021-05-28T23:07:00.002-07:002021-06-28T02:02:05.689-07:00Money TalksObododimma Ohahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12343801060254012161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4519759173355297763.post-57829642270049786792021-05-13T00:39:00.021-07:002021-05-14T13:18:44.247-07:00Onye Ọfọogeri <p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>By</p><p><br /></p><p>Obododimma Oha</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>Young men who are very carefree about life are referred to in Igbo discourse as "ọfọogeri" (literally meaning, "It remains a wife or woman.") However, it means that the referent is</p><p><br /></p><p> -- - wayward</p><p> - - - not focused in life</p><p> - - - not serious-minded</p><p> - - - too casual with life.</p><p><br /></p><p>The literal interpretation is based on an assumption that being married to a woman helps a man to get organized and be focused. So, "onye ọfọogeri" (an ọfọogeri person) is not yet anchored in life and is too carefree. Such a person cannot be entrusted without a serious social responsibility. The fellow is still growing up and needs to see more of life. </p><p>"Ọfọogeri" may be rendered in other Igbo dialects as "Akaroogeri" or "Efulefu." Some would prefer "iforifo." But the sense is the same. </p><p>Ọfọogeri" may be used as a mere commitment to what is not helpful to the making of a man. For instance, someone could have a passion for accumulating carved objects. This may be called his or her "ọfọogeri." In that case, "ọfọogeri" becomes his or her commitment in that understanding. Poor judgment, you may say. </p><p>In that case, it is seen as "ọfọogeri" to be spending one's money (wasting one's money?) buying and accumulating what is considered "not wealth." </p><p>That means that every individual has their own kind of "ọfọogeri." It could even be the accumulation of books, as in my own case. In fact, I had jokingly told one of my booksellers one day: "If I am dead and buried and my children want to auction my books, I would rise from my grave and shout, leave my books alone! In fact, I don't want to die again!" For some, it may even be the case of taking photographs of every lizard that crawls past and posting them on Facebook! Or, somebody may be too attached to the cellphone and always looking out for an opportunity to have a chat. So, my "ọfọogeri"may even be your wisdom! </p><p>Another thing is that some people even make light the idea of "ọfọogeri," adding another decorative term, "ọfọse" to it. Nobody can tell exactly what "ọfọse" means. They just utter "ọfọogeri ọfọse" without bothering about the meaning of "ọfọse." </p><p>A "special ọfọogeri," but one cannot tell what makes the "ọfọogeri" special. Same for "bad ọfọogeri." Where or what is the badness? So, it is possible that "ọfọse" is a mere embellishment. </p><p>Some more on marriage and "ọfọogeri." The referent is being humored for lacking a wife and being foolishly free or enjoying the freedom of foolishness. In that case, "ọfọogeri" is freedom but it is foolishness. It is considered better to have a source of a headache than not to have it at all or to rejoice that one is free from it! Imagine the fallacy! Having a family to take care of or being married does suggest a headache. It could even be a therapy! But the fallacy is the discursive logic and rules life in the society. One, therefore, has no choice than to run away from being called an "ọfọogeri." </p><p>It should be clear now that "ọfọogeri" is just what a society calls a character it does not admire or desire. Implicitly, it is a society that thinks that personal freedom has to be earned and that observers need to see the extent one has lived, fulfilling responsibilities and performing social assignments. Marriage is one context where one can prove to society that one can be entrusted with responsibility, it seems. </p><p>There is also that assumption that the "ọfọogeri" is just doing things without being focused. That is a statement supporting it being presented as the social undesirable. Maybe the "ọfọogeri" has a different model but that model has no place in a context where responsibility is measured by compliance to norms. Maybe the "ọfọogeri" is just a maverick. </p><p>There are some professions that seem to be marked out for the "ọfọogeri," for instance, music or entertainment . Being a musician was particularly seen in the Igbo local area as being lost in life. The feeling was: how can someone be playing music all his or her life and hope to place food on the table? That should remind us about Chinua Achebe's character, Unoka, who liked playing his flute and played it all his life as his main commitment. Musicians were seen as super "ọfọogeri" who were not rooted and could not be rich in life. </p><p>Next to music as the territory of "ọfọogeri" is professional driving. The professional driver is one public figure who meets various kinds of people. Mainly dominated by men, professional driving in a place like Africa is such that the man meets several women and may fall in love with some. So, at every stopping point, he is likely going to have a lover or a woman who is already his wife! So, professional driving is classified as an "ọfọogeri" business. </p><p>But whether a professional driver or a musician, the "onye ọfọogeri" may live longer and happier, managing to attend to home and societal needs. In fact, some "ọfọogeri" persons succeed in accomplishing what socially approved citizens cannot. </p><p>"Onye ọfọogeri" is just a social label. Times change and attitudes must. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Obododimma Ohahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12343801060254012161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4519759173355297763.post-72483361434522736802021-05-13T00:33:00.000-07:002021-06-28T02:02:05.822-07:00Obododimma Ohahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12343801060254012161noreply@blogger.com0