Nigeria is full of scary stories – Emelumadu

Bookshelf: You are among the five shortlisted for this year’s Caine Prize for African Writing. How would you describe this year’s contest and what does it feel like being part of the action?  Chikodili Emelumadu: Tough, as I imagine it always is for any shortlisted writer. Everyone on the list stands an equal chance of […]

Bookshelf: You are among the five shortlisted for this year’s Caine Prize for African Writing. How would you describe this year’s contest and what does it feel like being part of the action? 

Chikodili Emelumadu: Tough, as I imagine it always is for any shortlisted writer. Everyone on the list stands an equal chance of winning. I cannot wait to meet my fellow nominees.

If by action you mean the pomp and pageantry surrounding the Caine prize, then I am a little overwhelmed. I’m just taking the next few weeks to breathe and prepare myself. However, I am also excited to talk about my work. Writing for the most part is a solitary activity; you do the work, day in, day out, shop around for a medium in which to get it published and then people react to it when it does. This way, meeting people, engaging in discussions, will be a much more gratifying experience because the feedback is instant. 

Bookshelf: What exactly were you thinking about when your story, ‘Bush Baby’ took root in your mind?  

Emelumadu: I was thinking that I needed to write a scary story. I had just been contacted by Fox Spirit Books in the United Kingdom to be part of a themed anthology called ‘African Monsters.’ I remembered when I was growing up, of stories of a creature called a ‘Bush Baby’. I never saw it myself, but the story went that the Bush Baby’s cries sounded like that of a distressed human baby, coming from the bush. When one went to check, they met their doom. There was much speculation as to the nature of this ‘doom’, by the way; being ripped apart, in some cases, disappearance in others. It terrified me, as did another monster called a ‘Gwei-gwei’ or ‘Gwai-Gwai’ depending on how one spells it. I just conflated the two and voila, a new monster was born. I hope reading that story keeps a few people up at night.

Bookshelf: A lot of readers were left wondering how Ihuoma, the central character in your story, would pull off her plan for a face-off with the Bush Baby. Why did you end the tale in such a manner?

Emelumadu: I did not think that the story needed its ending spelt out. A lot of the time, the fear of something is greater than the thing itself. That sense of creeping horror, is her brother becoming the bush baby’s vessel? Would Ihuoma have to fight and kill him instead? Was what I was trying to achieve. I don’t think we should meet the creature. Its powers had been built up so much, that meeting it at the end would have been anticlimactic, I think. People are free to disagree. I have certainly received tweets on the matter.

Bookshelf: What did you aim to achieve with the story?

Emelumadu: I’m more interested in what people got out of the story. That will tell me if I achieved my aim or not. I’m on twitter.

Bookshelf: Your short story, ‘Candy Girl’ earned you a nomination for the 2014 Shirley Jackson Awards presented for outstanding achievement in horror, psychological suspense, and dark fantasy fiction. What draws you to writing scary stories? 

Emelumadu: Nigeria does. I’m sure I don’t need to tell any of your readers this. Nigeria is full of the scary and the fantastical; birds hitting high-tension wires and falling down as women, arrested criminals turning into goats at police stations, women giving birth to yams, and so on. In addition, my mother told my siblings and I stories when we were young. They were usually Igbo folklore, morality tales full of admonition and lessons; don’t take things from strangers, don’t pick money off the floor, be humble, be kind, listen to your elders and so on. In those stories, children who listened and obeyed their parents, came home safely. Children who did not, got into big trouble. I’m naturally drawn to horror, to the dark side of art.

Bookshelf: How do you view the development of African literature and horror genre in particular?

Emelumadu: I’m glad a lot more people are doing horror now and speculative fiction in general, which includes horror, fantasy and science fiction. I think that there is a certain freedom that comes from writing what one wants. Horror as I have said, is natural to our environment, so why should our literature not reflect that? In the past, I think most of the stories that made the lists were of a certain bent; poverty and rape and war. We should tell these stories, definitely, especially with our people in Northern Nigeria suffering on all sides, women and children most of all. But there is also room for all experiences in African literature, rich, poor and everything in-between. Even in IDP camps, I’m sure people will momentarily forget suffering by sharing fantastical or folkloric stories. Our literature should reflect those aspects too. It makes for a more robust body work.

Bookshelf: How did creative writing begin for you?

Emelumadu: It began for me as a child. I’m sure I have said this somewhere else before but I thought everyone was like me, making up stories in their heads, trying to figure people out; listening, observing and imagining what their lives must be like. As soon as I could write, I started doing plays. They were easy to do: a name, and action and then dialogue, neatly laid out. It was people’s reactions to my plays and later, poems and prose, that told me everyone was not the same. They would ask ‘How did you think of so and so?’ It always surprised me that it was not apparent. Writing however, is a job like any other. You must show up for work every day. Having talent is simply not enough.

Bookshelf: What were your early writing influences? 

Emelumadu: I read everything I could find, encyclopaedias, newspapers, magazines and novels which in hindsight were probably too mature for my age. I was around seven or eight. I loved the African Writers Series, the works of Chinua Achebe, Elechi Amadi, Charles Dickens, Flora Nwapa, Sir Henry Rider Haggard, Buchi Emecheta, Ifeoma Okoye, Zulu Sofola. When I turned nine or ten, I discovered Zaynab Alkali’s ‘The Stillborn’ which thrilled my heart with its simplicity and beauty. I have just finished reading ‘The Virtuous Woman’ by the same author. I wish that book was longer.

Bookshelf: You have been working on a novel. What is it about? 

Emelumadu: My novel tells the story of a girl, Ozoemena, who comes into her ancestral inheritance as she reaches womanhood and how she deals with the troubles that follow.