It's All Coming Back by Kurannen Baaki

Opportunity, they say, comes once in a lifetime. And when it does, you grab it. Senator and presidential aspirant Akaha Ivom was not going to let his pass by no matter what. Among the presidential aspirants, he was with the better chance until funds ran out in the middle of campaign and he had to make the deplorable but only decision of killing his wife.

“I know we anticipated this, but it was not to be this quick,” his campaign manager said. “You know the setback about the fundraising: the death of Chief Zik Anyanwu. Now his estate has denied he made a promise to donate three hundred million naira to the campaign team.”

Little was realized from the fundraising. He was to make history as the first Tivman to become President. The crowd was with him. No one was willing to lend him such money. The only option now was to take the one that rightfully belonged to him. It was a difficult decision. But if he was to become the first Tiv President, strike a balance in the leadership circle and rebrand the country the way he had promised, it was worth the sacrifice. It was worth killing his wife, who had not really supported his ambition, to inherit $5,000,000 in cash. He had told her that after eight years as a senator, he would leave active politics. But it was sixteen now.

For any other person, an assassin was not hard to find, but this was a murder that must not look like murder. It was to be a natural death.

“I have money,” he said to his campaign manager. “But it requires a human sacrifice.”

The campaign manager jumped out of his chair. “I can’t be party to any ritual murder. I am not going to any witch doctor…”

“Nobody is going to a witch doctor, Peter,” the senator said in a tone that sounded too polite for the kind of conversation. “I am inheriting the money.”

“Who are you killing to inherit this money?”

The senator paused.

“My wife.”

“No, no!”

“I am making you minister after this. This campaign would fail and I will go back to the senate as a life senator. You will have nothing. Simply get over it. I am not asking you to kill anybody. I am doing it myself. And if being the first Tivman to become the President of this country does not mean anything to you,” the senator went on, and now the words came out forcefully and a plump finger from his large arm was sticking repeatedly in the campaign manager’s face, “it means the whole world to me.”

“This is a bad idea.”

The senator wheeled his three-hundred-pound bulk on one heel and barked, “If you vomit over five hundred million where you stand then it’s a bad idea.”

A week later, the death of his wife in her sleep was reported as a heart attack. He compounded it with a tearful press conference, joined in by millions of supporters across the country. A month later after he had buried his wife and mourned her for another week, his campaign regained its momentum.

The elections came. And passed.

Senator-For-Life and presidential aspirant Akaha Ivom was already jubilating with his team when the victory news came in. They were gathered in a large room that had been stuffed with tension before the results began coming in. Now they were throwing themselves at each other, screaming and slapping their backs in celebration.

When the door opened, none of them noticed until the leader of the intruders, a tall man in suit spoke.

“I am sorry to intrude, gentlemen and ladies, but we want a word with the President-elect.”

The man walked up to Akaha Ivom and said with a badge stuck in the senator’s face:

“Detective Dennis Duke. You are under arrest for the murder of your wife four months ago. You have the right to remain silent as anything you say will be used against you in the court of law.”

Book Review: The Small Print by Abimbola Dare

I have learnt not to judge a book by its cover. The first full-length novel I read had no cover. I mean, it wasn’t published like that but only to let you know that covers most times do not really mean substance. And if I had bothered about that, I wouldn’t have read the book that inspired me to write thrillers. But when I saw The Small Print, I was tempted. I would have been wrong with my judgment because the book promises an interesting read. When I began reading the book, I instantly was drawn back to a wonderful Christian children’s book God and a Boy Named Joe by Ethel Barrett, written with such skill that even an adult could enjoy. Abimbola Dare has written with a keen eye to wonderful detail, and also with a great sense of humor.

The novel begins with a scene in an office in London with one of the three main characters Wale Ademola reporting for a promotion interview only to his shock, find his ex-wife that he has ran away from in Nigeria sitting right in the room. From this, the reader is guaranteed of an intriguing string of events, especially when Jennifer the other character in the main picture did not show whatever it was that had joined her and Wale. I have not read the whole of this book but the opening chapter alone is a strong indication of something worth reading. Such novels are meant to have two key elements that make them unputdownable: drama and suspense. Abimbola has incorporated all these with a good mix of narration and dialogue.

The Small Print doesn’t appear a classic, though. Apart from the cover’s extra colorfulness, the title does not go down well with me as a compelling novel title, also taking the intrigue the body of the book itself promises out of it. But this can be unnoticed by readers with the book’s high promise of intrigue and suspense.

Abimbola has registered herself as a strong voice in Christian fiction and I give her credit for taking a bold step into an aspect that not too many Nigerian authors find project worthy owing to the huge challenges. The release of The Small Print comes in less than a month and I am waiting to read it. To those that fancy inspirational Christian fiction, Abimbola’s The Small Print would be a good read. And even to those looking for a good alternative to their preferred genre.

Another Perspective: Poetry

My aim was to dedicate this blog to talking about things that would promote the thriller genre that has been neglected by Nigerian authors. Poetry was not in the realm. But I stumbled over something that took my breath away immediately: a poem that had me thinking and wondering, and also inspired. I hardly read poetry. It’s one of the three forms of literature that I have avoided getting so close with. I love drama because of its great sense of humor. The truth is that I have had less to do with poetry because it took too much to understand it. Poems in literature were the toughest things to learn back in school. I wasn’t a great lover of the written word generally; I was dying to draw and paint. Drama tried to settle in around 1996 when I played Gbonka—the limping character and messenger to King Adetusa in Ola Rotimi’s classic The Gods Are Not to Blame—in a drama by our school drama club while I was in my final year in high school at Roots Nursery and Primary School, Yandev, Gboko. It was a wonderful performance which took place on stage and on location in a forest few meters away from the school. It was recorded on video but the sad thing about it until today is that we never saw that video. That was the first and so far, the last role I ever acted in a play.
Back to the poetry.
I was away in Zaria for work. After a hectic day of fieldwork, I was struggling with the compilation at night in my younger brother’s room. He had taken hold of my laptop and was so busy with it, typing with two fingers, I guess. Because when I saw what he had typed afterward, I knew he was that slow. But that was not what interested me; what grabbed me at once was the few words he had put down. I had not known him with writing poetry. I remember he had written a few songs. But he was so unserious with that so seen such intricate writing amazed me. It made me see poetry differently, as not that hard-as-nails piece of writing so nonrepresentational, but a thing of beauty and such of strong emotional intensity that makes us evaluate our lives, understand our being and reshape our standing. Before I leave you with a poem from this young man, Dese Baaki, I also want to quote him in a little writing he titled Imagination:

"Imagination brings about scrap ideas that eventually lead to a comprehensive manuscript. The funny thing about writing is that, it makes you start thinking. Once you’ve started the process, you can’t just stop. It makes you articulate too. It also makes you feel a sense of belonging to your own self, making you feel you are not alone; a buoyant feeling with no trouble at all, making you build confidence within yourself and comparing it with the mutual feeling of passion relating it to your work, which serves as an offspring. If you write and write every day, making it comprehensive or not, you begin to feel that your brain is like a well-preserved machine churning out things that will eventually prove to be of use to someone, somewhere, someday, sooner or later."

As a writer, I find this very true.
Now let’s listen to this prodigy, who has brought our attention back to why we live in this wonderful poem, titled: A Solitary Prayer.
                      
               A SOLITARY PRAYER by DESE BAAKI
When the wind blow,
And the rain fall,
The striking, thundering and lightning of the earth
Makes me feel hell.
The nervousness
Makes me think of the last day,
Which makes me feel there should have been
No birthday.
Premonition has dragged me
To an ominous feeling,
Making me feel morbid
That the world will end soon.
The sorrowful feeling and thought
For series of self questions
“Who will I be?”
“What will I be?”
And ultimately,
“Where will I be?”
Suddenly rushed into my heart
Then I bowed down my head,
And prayed.
Oh Lord God, where will I be, on the last day?
If the wind should blow every day,
If the striking, thundering and lightning of the earth
Should continue every day,
Then my prayer will be
A continuous process.
So, guys, who is saying his Solitary Prayer right now? If everyone would say a solitary prayer, we would not just worry about the last day, but we would worry about now.

Before the Obsession with Thrillers

I am back again with the hype about home-written thrillers.

I have not been writing for quite long. In fact, I wrote my first book “Courage to go on” in 2005. It was published three years later. The book tells the story of a brilliant village boy, Vershima who must strive through the hardship of boarding school if he must obtain a high school certificate, while his parents could hardly afford the fees. Prof. David Iornem wrote in his forward to the book, “…I can see a Cyprian Ekwensi in Kurannen. This book is a tribute to the great writer who has died at this time the book is making its debut...” It is hard to take it that in my first attempt, I was likened to a great Nigerian author like Ekwensi. I am not Cyprian Ekwensi. I can never write the way Ekwensi wrote; not even close to that. He is one of the greatest writers Nigeria has had. But this comment made me understand one thing, that I had that raw talent to write.

My second book The Quest was published this year. The Quest tells the hilarious story of a young man who must survive high school at an age he thinks is too old as he plunges into one bizarre circumstance after another.

Then came the strong desire to write thrillers. When my friend, Mandy started feeding me with thrillers, the focus shifted. I began to think on how I could contribute not only to what existed but to what was significantly missing. First were the story lines. The bulk of Nigerian authors, even within Africa have been writing on war, family problems and witchcraft. I once told a friend that I am tired of the stereotyped Biafran story. Yes, I am. The relevance of the civil war can never be taken away.  It is a fundamental part of the Nigerian history but we have present problems. To those who would say I am wrong, that is their opinion, but I don’t believe in witchcraft in the modern world. It is a distraction from practicality and an insult to human intellect. So I can’t sit and write a whole book about a family living in Lagos or Abuja who can’t give birth and they say it is a curse from their village or a relative or enemy or whatever is using black power to stop them from giving birth. While I don’t discourage any writer from putting down whatever he wants and best suits his comfort, I encourage those who think the same way I do.

In just about four years, I think I have read what works for thrillers and does not more than any writer in this part of the world. My first attempt to write a thriller was a detective story set in Lagos. The story line was good, but lacked a lot of substance. First time. It was a big step. I wrote another, a legal thriller, Grisham-influenced, set in Kaduna. It was better. I gave it out and received a lot of encouragement. I dumped both manuscripts. Then I wrote what I now call the big one: On the Run. Don’t misunderstand me. I’ve not written the perfect book. Is there such thing as a perfect book? I can agree with a masterpiece, but there is no such thing as a perfect book. On the Run is not a masterpiece, but it is something Nigerians have not read from a Nigerian author, and probably have been waiting for. What I believe is when the book finally gets published, people are going to love it. Think about a female protagonist, 50 million dollars, a drug lord, a dangerous and desperate President who must be stopped. Set in modern day Nigeria, precisely Lagos and Abuja, On the Run tells the story of one woman’s desire for revenge taking her deep into a dangerous web of corruption, dark secrets, unstoppable ambitions and murder where the only way to survive is to fight back evil that originates from the top of the country’s leadership.

I still write plain, straightforward stories. While I’m writing my present novel, I am working on a short story for children. But my main focus is to participate in filling the void. Writing thrillers is not my comfort zone, in fact, I said in my previous post that it is very challenging. It is not simple. But to anything that would bring this genre to stay, I am gladly part of it.

The Long Wait for Thrillers from Nigeria:

I have not read a lot of books. I don’t need to read a lot to stumble over a thriller by a Nigerian author. It is a genre Nigerian writers have not exploited. Probably because Nigerian publishers are more interested in getting a book on the school curriculum. So there is a lot of literary fiction everywhere read mostly for examination purposes. Everyone is afraid there is no market for thrillers in Nigeria. But how can there be a market? Until we write. I appreciate the efforts of writers like Adimchinma Ibe, Uche Eze Al…the least has already exhausted, who are paving the way for upcoming writers like us. I fell in love with thrillers around 2005. That is not too long ago, huh? Other people fell in love with James Hardley Chase, Tom Clancy, Sheldon when they were 6. A lot of Isaac Asimov’s should have introduced me to this kind of novels, but reading was not my thing. It is still not but I am learning to grow out of it. I was almost 20 when I took a novel on my own and read without having to write exams about it, Eddie Iroh’s Without a Silver Spoon. That’s late to start reading and then feel that a year after, you could write a book. But I did. I drew inspiration from Without a Silver Spoon. I wrote my first story worthy to be a book in 2005 in two weeks. A professor, David Iornem helped me publish it in 2008. I knew little, no, nothing about book publishing. There was no good editor to work on the book so it came out almost in that draft state that I wrote it. It was like a first step; it was awkward. That awkward step is why I am saying today, three years after, that I have completed a manuscript titled ON THE RUN that would be anyone’s idea of a high-concept thriller set in our own modern day Nigeria. ON THE RUN tells the story of a hard-fighting female NDLEA undercover agent, Kathryn Zoho’s struggle to expose corruption in a system where everyone including Supreme Court judges have been bought, after she had been framed and declared wanted. I read my first thriller around 2005, John Grisham’s The Street Lawyer given to me by a friend. That was when I fell in love with crime fiction. I had told my friend, Mandy, who gave me the book that I must write a book like that. I had exhibited creativity in other aspects like fine arts—that is what I can trace to my childhood, I think the very moment I knew how to scribble. I was going to study fine arts and graphics. My father made me study estate management—I never knew what estate management was and I feel I couldn’t have studied anything better. Now I hardly draw. If I am not working in the day as an estate surveyor and valuer, I am trying to write that great Nigerian thriller at night. It’s something I enjoy passionately. I couldn’t have discovered myself earlier. But if I did, Nigerians would have been reading my books earlier. I am doing my best now to continue being a writer. And a better one. Breaking into writing thrillers is challenging, because of how complex the storyline always is—a lot of characters, twists, fast-paced action, suspense and all the other elements. It is a challenge I enjoy for the sake of self-fulfillment and to offer Nigerians a new thing—something that has been greatly missing. I have not traveled a lot but where I have been, probably in just three states, I see a lot of young people read novels—thrillers. And those novels are all from Western authors. So I wonder whether it is the reading culture that is bad or we the writers as well are not diverse. I am here to help fill a void that is as old as Nigerian literature itself. Also to feed an audience that I strongly believe would welcome this new dawn in Nigerian literature.

I leave you with a synopsis of ON THE RUN.

A desperate President.

A ruthless drug lord.

Fifty million dollars.

One angry woman.

Death in their wake.

Framed for arms dealing in the Niger-Delta uprising, young female NDLEA undercover agent, Kathryn Zoho’s only way out is stealing fifty million dollars. As she plans an escape, one of her accomplices, a bank security guard resurfaces as disgruntled EFCC secret agent Nicholas Bassey with a shocking revelation that leads them to a web of corruption, lies and a secret criminal empire that roots right from the country’s leadership. Now on a collision course with a desperate, dangerous President, and a ruthless drug lord on her trail to recover fifty million dollars, Kate and Nicholas would have to throw in everything as they vie to dismantle a clandestine criminal empire and disrupt a scheme that would put one man in power forever.

Welcome to my blog where you're going to be thrilled! It's new a dawn when thrillers, page-turners would emerge from Nigeria. Just stay in touch and i promise you a great time. If you ever enjoyed a Sydney Sheldon novel, a John Grisham's, a Tim Green's etc., stay with me.