The Wole Soyinka Prize for Literature in Africa, awarded biennially,
is, to many, the most prestigious prize of the fiction genre in Africa.
Touted as “
Africa’s NOBEL prize,”
it is supposed to earn the recipient the much treasured recognition
among his/her peers globally. The activities constructed around the
prize giving ceremony make it an envy of every writer and connoisseur
of African culture. This is a prize that, given the name of the patron
and targeted excellence, has the potential of becoming one of the ten
culturally relevant literary prizes in the world.
Like
the Nigerian (NLNG) literature prize, Wole Soyinka Prize for Literature
is though not without a genetically debilitating snag. While the
Nigerian national prize in literature is open to only Nigerians
resident in the country, a condition that has attracted considerable
controversy, the Wole Soyinka prize excludes books “that have
won any other awards.” This is a major pitfall that will deny
the prize the grandeur and global relevance that it deserves.
To
understand the contradictory logic inherent in the prize, it is helpful
to ponder that it is established to reward excellence, but
systematically excludes any book whose excellence has already been
recognized by other agencies. What the exclusionary clause suggests,
put in a very simple language, runs thus: This is a prize for
excellence; if your book is excellent, please do not apply.
It
is important to note that I am not particularly against the books that
have won the prize (indeed the two books rewarded so far have their
individual merits). I am worried by the spirit of exclusion that has
accompanied it. It is just difficult to believe that the prize that is
awarded to books that haven’t won any prize at all, is, or
will ever be, a trailblazer. Nor can it be an ultimate confirmer of the
literary value inherent in a work in the manner of Nobel Prize, which
it ironically emulates. It will forever be known as the prize for
“the best of the rest.”
This
being said, it is mind-boggling that a continent that has still a lot
of spaces to make up for in excellence, smuggles through the backdoor
silly exclusionary clauses that end up making parts of its
constituencies feel unwanted.
At
the inception of the Nigerian Prize in Literature, (NLNG Prize), in
2004, many Nigerians abroad protested their being excluded from the
prize. Some even termed it outright disenfranchisement. To be sure, one
of the entry requirements states that Nigerian authors must be
“resident in the country.” It goes on to define
residency as “minimum of three of the four years covered by
the competition” (
Website).
Given the name of the prize, Nigerian Prize in Literature, it is no
surprise that Nigerian writers living abroad, be it in Ghana or
Germany, in Canada or Cameroon, feel excluded and reduced to aliens in
their homeland. The truth though is that there is an unwarranted
anxiety that those who reside outside the country would dominate the
prize because they are said to have better opportunity to write and
publish. The thought that merely being outside of Nigeria regardless of
where one is or what one does already puts one at an advantage is not
only empty, it is also unfair.
But
the calculated tactic of exclusion in the two major literary awards
held in Nigeria is only symptomatic of the moral workings of the
culture we inherited from our ancestors whose world was largely
characterized by sharp binary oppositions. The world of our ancestors
was one guided by a form of “Us” and
“Them,” a world where the meaning or the sanctity
of “Us” is guaranteed by the mere fact that the
other group, the “Them” is excluded. That world,
however much we embrace it as part of our heritage, entertained no grey
area, no in-betweens, no threshold. That, of course, means that reality
is already molded, and cannot be negotiated. There cannot be
discussions and compromises; you either accept what is given or you
just walk away. Any society that operates in this way has very little
chance for growth from within. This is because exclusions cement its
realities into unshakable essences. Perhaps a few examples could help
us understand my thinking here.
Growing
up in my village a relatively weak boy, I was made to feel important
when I was finally initiated into my village’s masquerade
cult. From that point on I lived with the belief that I was superior to
some people: women; I was superior to my mother and my sisters and all
those girls who might have laughed at me as a weakling. I was superior
to women because they have been excluded from something special, from
the cult of men.
As
a son of the soil of my village, (a few Kilometers from the city) I was
also made to feel superior because I knew that a particular group of
people we called foreigners (never mind that most of them had been
living there before I was born) was excluded from certain claims to the
reality of that part of the world. These people were not sons of the
soil; they couldn’t lay claims to any aspect of our reality.
In short, they were inferior. Their putative inferiority made me
superior. It should surprise no one to know that this is an essential
pillar of every racist, feudal and oppressive society. Their logic is
that of exclusion. Just exclude and feel comfortable with the rest.
Wasn’t this what actually brought about the falling apart of
the Umuofia community?
Our
twenty-first Nigerian society is also a direct progeny of military
culture whose mentality is branded by exclusions. Nigeria experienced
more than thirty years of brutal military regimes which notoriously
ruled by fiat edicts calculated to suppress reason and dissenting
voices and above all kill excellence. The army uniform confers on the
wearer the feeling that he is more valuable than the rest who are
excluded from the club.
With
exclusionary clauses appended to most of our otherwise modern and
universal activities, and in our thinking, we, unfortunately,
demonstrate our affection for the traditional, oppositionary categories
even when our times and cultural idioms have changed. In so doing we
reveal our inability to expand our moral imaginations and to really
make room for excellence and democratic spirit.
At
this stage of our history, we need excellence from any part of the
world as long as it bears even the remotest hint or link to Nigeria.
Wole Soyinka stands among other things, for global world outlook. Any
prize bearing his name must entertain no exclusionary clause or measure.