“On the day of death, there is no medicine”, wrote Cyprian Ekwensi, well before the grim reaper knocked on his door 10 years ago. Had he been around still, he would have been 96 years young now. Yes, young! With Cyprian Ekwensi, generational boundaries melted. He was at once a young old man and an old young man; a man who seemed to belong to every generation. Everyone called him by his initials, C.O.D, turned by close associates to “Cash On Delivery”.
It’s been 10 years since he joined the ancestral realm but it’s all like yesterday in the minds of those whose lives he touched. Right from the time our paths crossed in DRUM magazine, he earned our respect as a mentor, friend, confidant and teacher in the multiversity of life.
Although he was the proud author of 49 works and had instant name recognition wherever he went, Ekwensi was the very definition of humility. Most times he wondered why people made a fuss about him. Two instances that I recall vividly: Once, he was in Abuja. My good friend and brother, Sanusi Abubakar, of blessed memory, had hinted his wife, Fati, that Ekwensi would be stopping over. She offered lunch. When Ekwensi saw the elaborate trays of goodies, he screamed, “Sanusi, you didn’t tell me I was coming for a banquet. Ha! Do I deserve all these?”
On another occasion when we travelled to Germany, a guest at the hotel had recognised him. She told other guests that they were lucky to be lodging in the same hotel as one of the fathers of Nigerian literature, Cyprian Ekwensi. One thing led to the other and a long queue for autographs formed as we had breakfast. In the evening, a piano session interspersed with readings from the German translation of Jagua Nana, was held in Ekwensi’s honour.
“Hey, these people think I’m more important than I am”, he joked as he thanked them for the impromptu delectable evening.
Born on September 26, 1921, in Minna, Niger State, to Igbo parents who hailed from Nkwelle-Ezunaka in Anambra State, Cyprian Odiatu Duaka Ekwensi later lived in Onitsha and was educated at the Government College, Ibadan, Achimota College, Ghana (then Gold Coast), School of Forestry, Ibadan, Yabatech in Lagos and the Chelsea School of Pharmacy of London University. He briefly lectured in Pharmacy at Lagos and was employed as a pharmacist by the Nigerian Medical Corporation. All the while, his novels were making waves and it was only a matter of time before he left pharmacy for the creative arts.
Ekwensi served Head of Features of the Nigerian Broadcasting Corporation (NBC) and later as the first Nigerian Federal Director of Information in the Information Ministry where he mentored the corps of professionals in the information service of newly independent Nigeria. He wrote for the major newspapers of the time and regularly featured in DRUM magazine where, in one edition, his undying love for Isabella in whose company he had toured all the regions of Nigeria, was celebrated. It turned out that Isabella was his elegant German car manufactured by the Bremen based auto-manufacturer Carl F. W. Borgward GmbH.
Ekwensi spent the Civil War years as Director of the Biafran Broadcasting Service. He returned to Lagos at the end of the conflict to resume what he loved doing best – writing. From his house in Ojuelegba or his home in Enugu, Ekwensi continued to mirror city life. One day, as we looked out of the window at his Ojuelegba office, he tapped me as was he won’t whenever he wanted to say something profound. “Wole”, he said, “See that great crowd on the street? By 2am, this highway will be deserted. Every rat has its hole!”
For a long time I thought about it. True, where do the millions that I see from the top of Oshodi bridge disappear to at night. Every rat has its hole indeed!
Starting with When Love Whispers which he wrote in 1948 but published many years later, Ekwensi was to log hundreds of short stories, radio and television scripts, and several dozen novels, including children’s books in a writing career that spanned about six decades. His People of the City (1954) was the first book to catapult him to international attention but it was Jagua Nana (1961) which established his fledgling reputation as the master storyteller of the city.
Jagua was about the city but much more about a popular courtesan whose name was a corruption of the expensive English auto. Her life personalised the conflict between the old traditional and modern urban Africa. The narration was seductive, even titillating.
The literary world was not surprised when,In 1968, Ekwensi received the Dag Hammarskjöld International Prize in Literature. Several more recognitions were to come later. For a writer born in Northern Region of Parents from the Eastern Region and who was educated in Western Region, Ghana and the UK, Ekwensi was a citizen of the world.
It was fitting therefore that the Federal Capital Territory Administration, Abuja honoured his memory with the naming of its cultural centre after the literary icon. (I hope they’ll now take the next step by increasing the tempo of activities at the centre to make it Abuja’s cultural Disney.) In the same vein the state of his birth, Niger State, has named its state library after Ekwensi. I am still looking forward to his immortalisation by his state of origin, Anambra.
Am I missing him? You bet!
