By Gregory Austin Nwakunor
IT was about half-past nine on a December night. This writer, in company of some journalists, who had come to cover the third Garden City Literary Festival in Port Harcourt, chatted at the lobby of Hotel Presidential. Helon Habila was waiting for a call from them so that they could all hangout that evening.
Suddenly, this writer’s phone beeped and it was Helon.
“Where are you guys?” he asked.
“At the lobby,” I answered.
“And you?” I asked.
“In the room,” he responded.
He had been in the room for more than two hours before he called to confirm where everybody was.
Ten years ago, he was feted as Nigeria’s next best thing in literature. In 2001, he had won the Caine Prize for African Writing for a short story, Love Poems.
After winning the prize, he received a book contract with Norton to publish the collection of short stories as the novel, Waiting for an Angel. The novel, which came out in 2002, went on to win the 2003 Commonwealth Literature prize for the best first novel by an African writer.
Habila had gone on to publish the book, as well as write other books. And now, become a ‘teacher’ of writers in the United States. A thought that was far remote when he came into limelight.
This cool evening, he was just about hungry to feel the local side of the Garden City. He needed to eat local delicacy, and a walk across the road took him to a spot where he bought suya and ate with relish.
“This is exactly the place to be,” he said in a gentle voice, as his eyes searched the faces of people passing.
As the literary train retired to a quiet corner in the hotel to continue with the feast on suya and red label, he made a confession to this writer, who stood like a priest to bless him.
“I’m too busy to relax, I don’t have a free time believe me; I tell people and they don’t find it easy to believe. I don’t have a life apart from my family and work and that’s strictly what I do. I have to take my kids to their school and games. In America, parents have to be there, it’s not like here. But the lucky thing for me is that I enjoy writing, so, when I want to enjoy myself, I just pick up my pen and write.”
So, does he have time to read other people’s books with such a crammed programme?
The dark, broad shouldered writer breathed in a very positive manner. “Yes, a lot of them. Between now and when I resume classes, I’m free, so, I bought these two books, Dalmon Galgut’s In A Strange Room and The Summer Time, which I have to read before going back. These are things I do and I don’t really have much time for pleasure because most time I have to teach between 15 and 20 books and I have to read them all.”
Does he go back to his book again after publication? “I do go back,” he smiled. “There are times you look at the books and you feel there are thing you want to change, for the older the better; at times, look at some and say I would have been more efficient in these areas.”
Recently, his new book, Oil on Water, an exploration of the Niger Delta crisis, was nominated for this year’s Commonwealth Writers’ Prize. It was nominated for the Best Book for the Africa region.
When this chat held in Port Harcourt, Habila was not expecting to be nominated for the awards. He just wanted to give it a shot as a creative writer.
Habila recalled: “I was approached by a movie company in England, they wanted me to write a movie script on the Niger Delta, but I told them I was not from there and lacked adequate knowledge to do it. But the way they put it, showed they were concerned about the happenings; so, that touched me and I decided to write a fiction on the place, using the research I did for the movie as a base.”
So what does it say about the sincerity of the book, whose creator is remote from the issue, so to say?
“I have always instinctively seen things from the point of view of the powerless to those who are not hurt. That has been my concern and it’s reflective in all my books. I think a lot of violence is being done to the people, not those who result to carrying guns, but ordinary people, who can’t fight for themselves; they need to be spoken of.”
For somebody, who has written a book on the Niger Delta and carried out research on the place, he is appalled with the manner government is handling issue. Habila said, “people are concerned about the money made in the region and the obstruction of work without bothering about the powerless, who can’t defend themselves and are killed every day; I try to capture their life in the book.”
Acknowledging the injustice meted on these people, he said government should do more than it’s doing. “We should not go on blaming the companies or the people for fighting, rather government should do more because it’s her duties to take care of the citizens, provide and protect them. In the US, once there is spillage, the government easily steps in to proffer solutions and turns the hard-line on the company because government spends so much in damages, which is not happening in Nigeria.”
For the writer, who has been in the klieglight for over a decade, what could have fascinated him to writing?
“Different authors have different things that fascinate them, if you look at their works, you keep seeing those things. With me, I celebrate the journalist, not just because I used to be one, but that I can see what they are doing, they have not been celebrated, they single handedly championed the anti-dictatorship fight in the country, they are doing a lot of work and of course, there are corrupt ones among them they could still do more than they are doing; but I think they have not been honoured enough for their works. This is my way of celebrating, using it as a kind of metaphor; a judge in sitting over judgment, he asks questions and challenges the status quo, so it’s not just the seat of the judge, but what it symbolises.”
Has your work been able to sustain you?
A long laugh. He sipped from half filled glass in his hand. “Hmmh,” he exclaimed. “There is this glamour about the author, people think you are just rolling in millions; the thing is that I’m just a working writer. Though there are some pecuniary returns, it’s not always enough to make a living out of writing and that’s is why I’m working, if the returns had been much rewarding, I would just sit at home and write, because that’s what I enjoy doing.”
He paused. He took the remaining piece of his suya and munched gently. “You just don’t start making a living when you start writing, unless you win the Booker Prize or any other prize with your first work, which is one in a million. The surprising thing is most writers can’t even afford to buy gas for their cars. Though there are those that write fantasy fiction or general fiction for money, which I don’t do; I simply write because of my conviction of what I believe, not necessary for money or sale. I write because I’m an artiste and as a way to express myself, so, I enjoy what I do and happy to be resident in the West because it gives me opportunity to do it, the infrastructure is there and they respect writers, so, I’m fortunate to be there and I have no regret being a writer.
He looked kind, serene and exceedingly healthy. His skin shone brilliantly under the floodlight. There was something else about him; he looked calm even in most difficult situation, especially when asked why he has not been helping young writers. He reacted resentfully: “I have been asked this questions in one of my lectures in Lagos, they said I have not been helping writers and asked if I’m now changing; the truth is, it is not my obligation to help young Nigerian writers. If I want to do it, I just want to and not a right. There is this misconception that as a writer, you must just begin to teach people or to help; no, most don’t do that and if they do, they don’t have to advertise it. I do on my own, because I have to, not because the society owns anybody. I appreciate where I came from and know how I suffered to be a writer, so, I really know what it means to be a starter. Though, some people helped me with money, I really had to seek for the publishers, which nobody did for me.”
He, however, said softly, “I do mentor and teach because I know it’s very hard and they still need encouragement. Sometimes, people forget that such things also come as an opportunity, people don’t bother to ask, has he been invited to a workshop, or must he come down with his little money to organise workshops and all of that; they seem not to know that some of these things come as an opportunity, it’s not easy and when the chance comes, I do capitalise on it.”
Habila grew up listening to stories, then began to read and get informed on ways of looking at the world and desired for a structure.
He recalled, “I was a kind of lonely kid, which gave me the privilege to read. I grew up in Gombe, which was a big town and my parents had to send my other brothers to the village to learn the language, leaving me with them, which made me lonely up to my secondary school until the holidays when they come to visit or I go to them; so, in a way, it was lonely, which enabled me go through so many stories to fill in the gap and to develop interest in writing; in a way I never thought of becoming one.”
He added, “there were times I had to go to the British Council to source for information. Some of them think that they are stuck here because they are in Nigeria, you are not going to be published if you are in New York either, it is not where you are, but the quality of your story. If you are good, you will get a publisher and if you really hunger enough, you will find a way to a publisher, which is just the truth. Look at Adaobi Tricia Nwaubani, she wrote her book here and she found a publisher, it goes for me, too. They should stop seeing themselves as victims, handicapped or disabled; writing a book and getting it published is a thing they can do.”
So, how is the transition from the former right owner to the Nigerian right owner the sale of his book?
“I’m just happy that my book is read in Nigeria and it’s also a way of promoting the publishing industry; I appreciate what Farafina and Cassava Republic and others are really doing. They are really doing good great work.”
“I think we have come of age long time ago, imagine Nigeria without Chinua Achebe, Wole Soyinka, Femi Osofisan? There will be no Nigeria literature, because these are the people that tell the story of Nigeria, they put country in the world map of literature, what else have we not done. I think we are sometimes underestimated and celebrated.
I think it is high time government had stamps with pictures of Soyinka and Achebe on them, named streets after them to celebrate literature and encourage the younger people to value their culture, our creativity and the people,” he said.
“My book before this was on contemporary issues, but Measuring Time though historical, is about what happened in middle belt and Northern Nigeria. Most of my books deal on immediate things I chose to write on what is happening and the only way to do it is to think, observe and dramatise it. Adaobi is also like that; writing about contemporary issues, at times people want us to write like Chinua Achebe, they should realise that we are not in the same era, so, the content, times, style and generation should be different.”
Which century would you say have impacted so much on you and which would you want to belong to?
“Interesting! I’m happy with this our time. I would have said the Greek era, but goodness is not limited to any century, you can be the best you can in any age and times, you find yourself. I have no regret being part of this century, because we are lucky with the technologies and research at our disposal. This is like the most exciting age of all the ages of mankind; as Obama once said ‘history tends to perfection’. This age is so full of researches of all sort, medicine, space, science, just name it.”
And the Internet?
“It has helped publishing to open up. It has introduced alternate way to publishing and move most people away from the conventional method in which people will need to read your work to see if it falls into what they want and if you write what they don’t understand they will throw it out and you are doomed. But now, while they condemn your work, you can simply send it to America via the Internet and before you know it, you are published. Nigerian writers can send their manuscript to the publisher through the Internet. I have heard people say they are going to India to write and publish, which when I started there was no such opportunity; then you had to be published in America, Britain, Nigeria or even China.”
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