2 must-read stories from 2015 Caine Prize
The Caine Prize for African Writing is arguably the most prestigious prize for literature aimed at discovering African writers with the capacity to hone out original works. This year, five writers have been shortlisted for the prize, with two from Nigeria, namely Elnathan John for his short story ‘Flying’, Segun Afolabi, for ‘The Folded Leaf,’ […]
The Caine Prize for African Writing is arguably the most prestigious prize for literature aimed at discovering African writers with the capacity to hone out original works. This year, five writers have been shortlisted for the prize, with two from Nigeria, namely Elnathan John for his short story ‘Flying’, Segun Afolabi, for ‘The Folded Leaf,’ South African writers F.T. Kola for ‘A party for the Colonel,’ Masande Ntshanga for ‘Space’ and Namwali, a Zambian for ‘The Sack.’
The Folded Leaf
This story written by Segun Afolabi immediately brings to mind Tope Folarin’s short story ‘Miracle’ which won the 2013 Cain Prize for African Writing. But that’s all it does. In ‘The Folded Leaf’, written in the first person narrative, Bunmi tells the story – which reads like a back stage performance – with a soft voice almost apologetic for breaking the silence, yet unable to push down the inquisitiveness coming from her inability to see life for herself. And so Bunmi who has been blind from birth begin a journey along with her father, Bola, Tunde, Samuel and Mrs. Kekere from a remote place to Lagos where they hope – or at least the whole congregation that has sent them forth – to get healed by a renowned and wealthy pastor the children call with the nickname, Daddy Cool. The children are teenagers and appear less enthusiastic, while Bunmi’s father and Mrs. Kekere seem full of faith and belief in the power of the man in Lagos to heal them via his spiritual connection to God.
Except for Bunmi’s father, Mr. and Mrs. Ejiofoh (the church’s rich benefactors), everyone on this trip to Lagos is plagued by one challenge or the other. Samuel’s is the most obvious from the very beginning as he is wheeled into the bus and given encouragement that he will soon dance after being healed in Lagos. Mrs. Kekere suffers from arthritis, Tunde has a heart condition described as ‘a whole in his heart’ while Bola is the young escort. Bunmi’s blindness is dropped in hints until the reader actually begins to wait for validation from the writer that it’s indeed so. Through her blindness, the story takes form, has smell, taste, sound and touch when every other character is quiet. Bola – who’s fourteen – is her eyes and brings the sights and sounds of the ‘epic journey’ to life, the most remarkable being a crippled beggar who pushes himself between vehicles on tiny wheels only inches tall. So Bunmi begins to picture all these, including the offices said to ‘rise to the sky.’ But eventually, the healing they expect doesn’t come when they arrive amidst a large congregation where Mr. and Mrs. Ejiofoh are given VIP seats while they are shoved to the background despite their obvious needs. In this story, faith and disbelief merge, almost becoming one as the children throw away the former and hope when surrounded by an excited congregation, then just like a pierced balloon, all hope is dashed after paying a huge price – the long haul to Lagos and giving as offering (payment?) all the church back home had raised for them.
Flying
This story is all about an orphan’s quest for identity, written by Elnathan John, who was nominated for the Caine Prize for African Writing in 2013 alongside two other Nigerians, Tope Folarin, Chinelo Okparanta and Abubakar Adam Ibrahim. ‘Flying’ is sojourning into the heart of Tachio, a boy in an orphanage with strange dreams that draw him closer to Aunty Keturah, the founder, sparking a friendship different from any other in the home. His experience flying in his dreams is given interpretations – by Aunty Keturah – that instantly cure his anxiety. Another thing that builds their relationship (he and Aunty Keturah) is the fact that she sees a resemblance between him and her dead child. Like those women who dedicate their lives raising other people’s children or involving themselves in work that involves children, she began hers when pronounced barren by a doctor. Although Aunty Keturah is strict, her love for the children is evident in the way she protects them.
Tachio represents every child in dire need of a mother and someone to look up to, and with the other boys in the home, the typical mischief and curiosity most children possess. Like most children who are closer to authority, he is pushed aside by his peers and battles to stay loyal when he could have reported the fact they (the boys) stole mangoes from the school farm. As dorm leader, Tachio is in charge of keeping clean Aunty Keturah’s office and soon stumbles on a file that tells him how and where every orphan came from. He exercises great willpower in keeping these secrets to himself, even when his peers provoke him and he is tempted to spit what he knows about them. When Aunty Keturah dies and the children come early for assembly, all smart without having to be chased around by the late founder, the love they have for her and their reaction to her – even as disobedient children – only reveals how they took her for the mother they never knew. Finally, her interpretations of Tachio’s dream comfort him when he notices a limping chicken and concludes it is Aunty Keturah in her next life – she had taken time to explain to him about what people were or could be in different lives, before and after death. Now she is gone, but lives in a chicken, as far as young Tachio is concerned, his innocent belief an example of a child’s naivety and tendency to hold unto superstition.
When the writer was asked about his inspiration, he offered. “ As I wrote Flying, I was thinking of dreams.” He also added that he was thinking of the many spaces humans inhabit, of people reinventing themselves, of his own dreams where sometimes he really does fly.