Writers Workshops in Africa
Traditional publishing
in Nigeria is obviously on a speed lane to oblivion, just like everything
indigenous. The Nigerian gods left too. They are seated idly, enjoying
air-conditioned compliment in British museums. They, too, know that there’s a
time to leave behind all that a man started. What we have today may be tagged
rascality. The adjective ‘traditional’ became necessary to be specific of the
nature of publishing that is being referred to, the one which provided royalties
and other fine packages associated with writing. This may include reading tour,
entering for prizes,
and of course, speaking at events and lectures.
I haven’t been to South
Africa. It is probably not doing well over there. Kenya’s brightest star is
Kwani? Maybe Ghana and Liberia, Uganda and Algeria may have theirs. I haven’t
won a travel grant yet. My scope is limited.
But in no distant time, when we go through the books; African classics,
made available by this one-time European owned publishing houses, we shall
realize how much we have lost touch with dedication to literature, publishing,
and distribution, despite the internet and increase in technology.
Sadly, the alternative
isn’t helping. Self-publishing and distribution are not synonymous terms. The
writers who have made some headway are coming back to organise workshops to
assist those who are within Africa. Over the past five years I have attended
quite a handful of workshops. From the Garden City Literary Festival to the
Wole Soyinka Foundation workshop for young writers, held in Lagos, I have
struggled to gain a bit of the enlightenment that a writer needs. Have I had
any fulfilment? I will have to think a bit thoroughly to find an answer.
I have attended a few workshops
in Abuja. The Bold and Beautiful foundation had one that had an impact on me.
In Yenagoa and other parts of Nigeria, I think I have attended a few more. I
can’t recall some of them. They could be very stimulating but then, it is just
a workshop. You learn nothing spectacular. The amazing part is that you
fraternise with fellow writers and chart a new course for the generation. When
there are bottles of beer in front of us, we empty our anger into the glasses
and then move on too.
Our generation is
unfortunate. We are the same people who come online to talk against self-publishing
and we are the same people who practice it more. For what do you call the
publishing company where you have shares? It is the only way to save a dying craft.
The writing and publishing world need some assistance and we are the people who
can save it. I know a few people who go to Asia to print books, distribute it
within their friends’ network and even when sales is poor, the joy that the
mind has been emptied on to the pages of bound materials and distributed gives
the writer some peace. My 2012 publication, a book of poems entitled Salute
to Bori followed similar process. When I approached a publisher and there
was no money, I risked my school fees and together, the work was birthed.
The Caine Prize and
other prizes for African writing in Africa are doing tremendous works in seeing
new writers discovered. When the writers enter for this prize, the Caine,
especially, shortlisted writers have the honour of being published in an
anthology. It is a splendid approach. It has helped a lot of writers. But I
think the prize still battles with distribution. Aside the obvious that a few
books get into the hands of the public and there is a reading tour, the books and
stories die naturally, few months after the release.
The system that has
sustained creative works for a long time has been the university. The trained
critics debate the books and stories, write thesis on it and then the works
keep being relevant. Students use it for projects etc. That’s how the likes of
Walt Whitman become relevant to me. A work is fine but when scholarly discourses
are written on them, they bring out new perspectives each time. I think the
Cainze prize must involve leading private and government owned universities in
Africa and department of English and Literature especially. They must find a
way to fix the stories into the curriculum of these selected schools thereby
stimulating scholarly discussions and review and deliberations. With that, we
can place the young writers permanently in the line of scholarship and sustain
their writings.
I met a friend recently
who was part if the just concluded Farafina Trust writers workshop in Lagos,
Nigeria. He narrated the task, the reading and the writing and it sounded same
to me. The same process of stimulation but there is actually nothing more to
that. Somewhere before the talk was concluded, he spoke with hope, that the
members who attended the workshop wrote new stories and compiled it and of
course, edited it and sent same to the organisers of the workshop which brought
them together. Farafina has agreed to publish the collection. That’s amazing.
That is what workshops are supposed to do. And that should not be the end. If
some of the writers belong to universities, the platforms should be exploited.
The school should find a way of studying and reviewing the stories and the
collections. Writing should be kept alive in this way.
I was part of a group
of young African writers selected under the Writivism umbrella. We were
assigned to mentors who read and corrected our stories. The stories were then
published online. These stories could have been made into a small book, distributed
and used as forms of engagement of the young people. There is nothing that
inspires like seeing your writing in print.
I taught at a 5-day creative
writing workshop few years ago in Ebonyi State. The event was organised by the
Ugreen Foundation and sponsored by one Senator Chris Nwankwo, from the state
too. The organisers selected teenagers and we instructed them in short fiction writing.
At the end of the period, they were given a time frame to complete a project of
stories set in the state. When it was completed, a South African company found
the fresh and promising collection interesting. ABIC Books, Enugu too took up
the job of printing the Nigeria edition. The books were distributed to schools
in Ebonyi State. The students whose stories appeared in the book were paid.
They got the first experience as writers. And they were exposed to the fact
that a writer is entitled to payment for anything that is taken from him, in
form of story or poem. Though I didn’t get payment for my poems and the story
in the book, I was glad the youths had their day.
Workshops in Africa can
do more than the usual charade. They can make mini-stars from the energetic
young adults who attend the workshops, with tall hope to be magically
transformed. Their stories can be shared online. Ms Adichie and Binyavanga can
use world influences to push the likes of the New Yorker and other
internationally recognised magazines to make some of these workshop bright-stars
a deal. It may not cost much. Mrs Kalango, of the Garden City Book festival can
do more too in terms of collating workshop stories. It may just cost commitment.
If there is anything worth doing it should be done well.
Bura-Bari
Nwilo has a diploma in Screenwriting from the New York Film Academy. He writes
from Nsukka, Nigeria.
He
tweets: @BuraBariNwilo
Nk'iru. Njoku: Hmmmm
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