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Spring
2001
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Marge
Shannon Snoeren, Editor
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Vol.
5, No. 3
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Unrecognizable,
Yet the Same
Interview
with Norm Rush
by Jane Toby, (08) 63-65
"It is night and Tilley lamps are burning....." A distant memory of life in Nigeria when the Tilley lamp light engendered a certain way of being—a way we Americans had forgotten, a way Nigeria is now forgetting, too.
Jan. 1 Kofi, a student from my 1963 PCV days, writes from Lagos: "A gift for Christmas. Electricity! The nights were brightly lit for young and old to walk around safely and happily. The air was filled with music instead of the strident whines of generators. But, today, life is back to 'normal'. Electric lights are blinking and generators are warming up."
Jan. 10 Royal Dutch Shell Nigeria said it shut off 46,000 barrels per day after an oil spill in Ughelli West, near Warri. Shell denied news report that farmlands were affected.
Later Ijaw protesters shut Shell down for several days, demanding benefits for the poverty-stricken people of the Niger Delta. Shell denies attacking Ogoni people and plans to return to Ogoniland. The Human Rights Violations Investigation Commission calls for an investigation.
Jan. 29 Kerosene lanterns and stoves lit during a power outage explode, shaking Benin homes, killing and maiming. "Killer kerosene" came from authorized dealers who got it from the NNPC Benin depot. The kerosene was contaminated. No one accepts responsibility.
Jan. 31 Colonel Paul Okuntimo, whose security task force terrorized Ogonis during protests against Shell, testified before a human rights investigation panel. Ledum Mittee, president of Movement for the Survival of the Ogoni People (MOSOP), told the same panel that human rights violations started in the late 1950's when oil was discovered.
Feb. 23 From Kofi: "We are going through yet another oil crisis. The government, in its determination to hand over the domestic oil trade to local and international predators, is now preaching deregulation. To ram this down our throats, an artificial scarcity of petroleum has been created. It is water, water everywhere but not a drop to drink. The kerosene tragedy in Benin is the latest in a series of unnecessary and avoidable disasters." The Nigeria Labour Congress (NLC) plans deregulation protests in all 36 state capitals.
Mar. 21 Seven states hold deregulation protests. The President invites labor leaders for talks. Over 2000 protesters march to the residence of the Kano State Governor; 3000 pack a Katsina rally. To reduce nationwide power outages, the Federal Government begins construction of power plants in Rivers and Delta States. The Government allocates N67 billion for electricity projects in Bayelsa and construction of 123 power lines to connect Odi to the national grid.
Mar 28 President Obasanjo accuses oil companies of underpaying government royalties and doing little for the welfare of Niger Delta host communities. He stresses the need for solidarity among oil-producing countries in Africa.
Pipe Dream, The West African Gas Pipeline Project and the Environment, by Environmental Rights Action of Nigeria/Friends of the Earth, is available from Doifie Ola disera@infoweb.abs.net. Oil Resistance in Africa is a listserve providing news on oil struggles in Africa, on solidarity campaigns, on American foreign and military policy that contributes to "oil colonization" in Africa. To join, e-mail caril@moles.org with the subject "Subscribe Oil Resistance in Africa Listserve." ▪ Return to the Top
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| Ed Gruberg (R), (05) 62-64, with some of the other guest lecturers at the International Brain Rsearch Organization's course in Benein City last fall. |
I said yes before I read the State Department’s Travel Warning. It was not encouraging. But a long-time Yoruba friend who lives and works in Boston was in Lagos at the time, and Adaji promised to host me for two nights in Lagos.
Unlike the days when Pan Am flew New York to Lagos, it took over 20 hours to get to Lagos via Europe. When we landed at Murtala Muhammad International Airport only one other plane was docked at a mold-covered building. Inside, air conditioning, fans, and moving sidewalk were not working. I breezed through a still too-small customs and baggage area.
Lagos is unrecognizable and yet the same. Its population is 6 or 8 or 10 million, and it has expanded beyond Ikeja with its expressways. But the frenetic pace, the vast numbers of people on foot, the ubiquitous roadside stands, all seem the same.
Protected by Ajadi's family, I had no sense of peril. I heard the current news as we drove to Ajadi’s brother Karimui’s house: lorry drivers who deliver petrol were on strike and the few gas stations with petrol had long queues.
It was getting dark when we arrived at Karimu's two-story house on a compound surrounded by an eight-foot wall with a solid steel gate kept locked from midnight to 6 a.m. I was shown my room and we had a chance to eat and have a cold Star before the electricity went out. Daily outages can last for hours.
In the morning Ajadi, Karimu, their nephew Olu, and I walked to a neighbor's house. Afolabi thrives as an import/exporter. Three walls protect his home, one around the neighborhood, one around the cul de sac, which includes Karimu’s home, and one around his compound. An architect designed the house with its cathedral ceiling, imported furniture, manicured landscaping, and garage for three Mercedes. We drank beer on the porch, talking politics and sports.
Then we were off to a naming ceremony for the 27th grandchild of Ajadi's other brother. Belau is a cheerful, no-nonsense barrister with a successful law practice. I had visited his house in 1974 for an outdoor wedding reception for his oldest son. The huge compound had generously accommodated four simultaneous parties—each with a band and 50-75 guests. The spiffy house had a 40x25 foot living room with terrazzo floor, glass doors running along both sides, comfortable furniture, and bar at one end.
With difficult economic times, Belawu had moved his law offices into the house. The living room now holds cubicles for law associates and a private office at one end. Solid walls replace the glass doors. Plunked down in the once-spacious backyard is a concrete duplex for Belawu's son and family in one flat, Olu's family in the other. The side yard has a small nursery school.
Karimu's wife Mero was outside helping make party food on open fires. She was less ebullient than when I saw her last 30 years ago. There had been economic and political turmoil, but most importantly, she had lost her daughter Lawanle. Beautiful, stylish, well educated, Lawanle was married with children when she was killed in an automobile accident.
Dipo just nine when I last saw him, would preside at the naming ceremony for his fourth child, a placid, seven-day-old boy. When his cheerful wife vowed this was the last baby, Dipo said nothing. Even educated, wealthy families still have large families. Six or eight children is not uncommon.
The naming ceremony had a Christian part followed by a traditional rite. Everyone, including the baby tasted water, palm oil, salt and sweet. People proposed names for the baby. A minister in blue jeans and sports shirt led songs praising Jesus and left. Then we feasted on moyin moyin, fried plantain, and egusi stew. Some guests came only for the traditional ceremony.
The next day I joined two fellow guest lecturers and our host, Professor Toni Ebeigbe for the 200-mile ride to Benin City. An expressway now runs north from Lagos to Ibadan and beyond. Halfway to Ibadan, near Shagmu, we turned onto a four-lane toll road and headed straight east to Benin City. The entire way went through open country, over sturdy bridges and along well-maintained tarmac except for short stretches that washed out during the rainy season. Road repairs don't begin until the dry season so drivers think nothing of traveling the wrong way at high speed to avoid potholes.
Enormous air-conditioned buses with refreshments and toilets on board provide luxury travel from Lagos to eastern states. But drivers stop at night because holdups after dark are common.
As we left Yoruba country we encountered a curious scene. At 80-foot intervals along the medial strip, little straw mat lean-tos were each manned by a beggar. They are lepers. Since government support was cut back, they beg.
We stayed at the Precious Palm Royal Hotel just off the toll road west of Benin City. It is isolated and resort-y. The University, still outside of town, is half a mile further east. The hotel complex is surrounded by a security fence with a uniformed guard at the gate. Inside, the driveway is flanked by acres of palm-shaded picnic area. A second guarded security gate beyond the picnic areas encloses the hotel. On the right, the main building houses the check-in, restaurant, bar, and meeting rooms. To the left, is a parking lot and recreational area with outdoor swimming pool, weight room, showers, bar. Straight ahead is a third guarded fence and inside, motel-style rooms each with a parking spot in front. Rooms have a king-size bed, color TV, toilet, hot water tank, shower, fridge, telephone, and air conditioner. The hotel generator keeps electrical outages to a few minutes at most.
After settling into our rooms we went to see the University. An expanse of tree-lined drives and widely spaced buildings, the campus bustles with students on foot or motorcycles. One-story buildings make up the physiology block, which houses Toni's office in back of a sparely equipped teaching lab.
Friendly and soft-spoken Toni was poised and obviously in charge of our logistically complicated program. KLM delays made a Stanford instructor a day late. The Nigerian High Commission in London lost an Oxford instructor's passport, which caused him to cancel all together. Air France lost the baggage of an instructor from Mexico City.
Toni saw to welcome speeches by the State Governor and university Vice Chancellor, as
well as our audience with the Oba. He adeptly ensured the right projectors were in the right rooms, arranged coffee breaks, and had lecture notes copied by inadequate university facilities.
Our program facilities were two adjacent halls with tiered seating. One room had 12 overhead fans. Three worked; most of the lights did not. The other hall had no working fans or working lights.
Graduate and medical students came from Calabar, Lagos, Zaria, Sokoto, Shagamu, Forcados, and Benin. Biochemists, physiologists, anatomists, and clinicians attended. People got along well. They seemed more Nigerian and less tribal than in the old days.
Each day’s program ran from 9 to 5. Students were bright, attentive, and asked good questions. But, they felt educationally and scientifically isolated. For example, not one of Nigeria's 40 universities receives Science or Nature, scientific weeklies available at every Western university. Some sophisticated but common scientific implements are not available in Nigeria.
The University limps along. Faculty and staff had not been paid for two months and because of strikes, the school year end had been extended from June to October. In the middle of our stay, students (not ours) went on strike for a day. Toni kept us away from the university until that afternoon. Lagos papers reported eight people arrested in a student rampage.
I heard that strikes like this are the work of non-student cultists, non-political gang members who disrupt universities for fun and profit. There were signs around the university to work against cultists and some suggested that officials close the university and send students home for two weeks. The students went on strike to protest university privatization which they fear will cause tuition to rise.
Faculty and staff went on strike the next day because they had not been paid. The federal government, to stop payments to ghost workers, demanded a complete list staff and faculty, and the University had not yet complied.
On
the plane to Lagos I sat next to a Yoruba engineer trained at Dartmouth. He
had worked in Europe and the United States because there had been no opportunities
in Nigeria. In March 2000, Compaq started a branch in Nigeria, and he was one
of the first people hired. He really liked the idea of going home and working.
Compaq hoped to have a sales and technical force of 37 people within two years.
It took only seven months to reach that goal. Let's hope this is a sign of
better things to come. ▪
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by Ron Singer, (10) 64-67
Born and raised in the San Francisco area, Norman Rush was a conscientious objector during the Korean War. After graduating from Swarthmore in 1956, Rush worked as an antiquarian book dealer and college teacher. From 1979-83, he and his wife, Elsa, were the Peace Corps' first co-directors, serving in Botswana and visiting seven other African countries. Out of that experience came Whites (1986), a story collection, and Mating, 1991 National Book Award winner for fiction. The third volume of the Botswana trilogy will soon appear.
FON: In retrospect, what has been the Peace Corps legacy in Botswana? I think you recommended that the program be phased out?
RUSH:
Yes, Peace Corps is out of Botswana now. As for lasting effects, the most obvious
and substantial were in secondary education. But Peace Corps Volunteers performed
significant training functions in many fields. In addition to teachers, they
trained nurses, borehole operators, automotive mechanics, TB control officers
... . It's hard to quantify these effects. On the other hand, the idea that
PCVs could be emissaries of change, of innovation in ways of living, was a non-starter
--e.g. the promotion of appropriate technology schemes. Projects like that needed
a long time to work, longer than Peace Corps tenure, and Volunteers lacked the
heft to succeed at them. Even youth could be a handicap because of the culture.
Some older PCVs had surprising successes.
FON: How can Africans accomplish rural development and lessen the gap
between rich and poor? What notable successes and failures have occurred since
independence?
RUSH: Enclave rural development projects like Rural Industries Innovation Centre in Kenya have had some successes, especially in promoting low-tech sorghum- and maize-milling machines. Getting the balance right in development projects between bottom-up-top-down is hard. Donors, local leaders, the government, and the basic memberships of the projects often have conflicting interests and agendas. The Tribal Grazing Land Policy, the big land reform project [in Botswana], has continued, but is seen by most NGO observers as a sellout to large livestock owners. But traditional society has provided useful mechanisms through which to address inequality, such as mafisa, a process by which stray cattle are given to the poor.
Nyerere, an exemplary man, in his way, a Tolstoyan practitioner of narodniki paleo-socialism, organizer of farmers' unions, had a vision of building society from rural to urban. But Nyerere went too fast, forming his system from his own aesthetic ideas rather than organic elements in Tanzanian society.
Patrick VanRensberg, one of the models for Denoon [a protagonist of Mating], based his rural Botswana development Brigades project on the Mophato (age-regiment) system. Quitting the youth African diplomatic service, he went into exile in Botswana. VanRensberg was charismatic, staunch, macho, a workaholic, totally assimilated, fluent in Tswana, and egalitarian--against the Chiefs. For a while he succeeded and looked like expanding into Zimbabwe and the new South Africa. But success sunk the enterprise: Botswana's civil service took over, disrupting the whole dynamic. The last I heard, VanRensberg had started a newspaper to fight back, sparking some press suppression, and...I don't know what happened.
FON: What are your feelings about political developments in Africa, especially Botswana and Nigeria?
RUSH: I'm glad that Nigeria is back under civilian rule, but the underlying conditions the new government has to face are pretty ominous (separatisms, environmental crises, etc.). Zimbabwe is a train wreck. South Africa has not so far distinguished itself in regional policy initiatives. The hybrid authoritarian/democratic set-up in Uganda is something I don't know much about.
On the positive side, democratic institutions in Botswana are managing mineral resources; drought relief has been relatively efficient; and welfare services have been extended to the poorest. The effective use of local judicial mechanisms reduces strain on the courts. A balance among nationalities has kept out ethnic strife. The Botswana government is relatively uncorrupted, and one reason may be that a number of the elite founding generation were graduates of a progressive Christian school of social work located at Tiger Kloof [Ravine], in South Africa.
Negatively,
inequality is bad as ever, maybe worse. Public safety is a greater issue now
than even ten years ago. In the seventies, it was a point of pride that the
country got by without a regular army, relying solely on border police, but
now the military receives an ever-growing share of resources. Then, of course,
there is AIDS. The percentage of the population infected with HIV is the highest
in Africa. The implications for the future are unimaginable.
FON: How did living in Africa affect your thinking and craft?
RUSH: I realized that systems we see as normal, which work for us, don't necessarily work in Africa. I also became more critical of the aims of official policy. I came home with a deeper sense of the unintended consequences of our actions, of how polices go astray, etc. There was also a huge change in my style. I stopped being an experimental modernist and wrote more in the vernacular, in simpler language.
FON:
Would you give us a taste of the new book?
RUSH: I'm typing the final draft now. The book began as Kerekang
the Incendiary; new working title Mortals (which will also change,
I think). It's all I've been working on for the last couple of years. The
new book is the part of the trilogy, which goes deepest into cultural questions
underlying the "contact," the underlying roots of Western interest
in Africa. Religion is a major focus. Indigenous religions are embedded in
their societies in very complex ways, yet Westerners under duress have veered
toward these belief systems. The book is based on a love triangle (as Mating
was a spin on boy-meets-girl): a black American doctor who hates Christianity
and its effects on Africa; a CIA contract officer; and his disaffected wife.
Set in 91-92, the story is not affected by recent African events, but it is
mightily affected by the Soviet bloc collapse, the most important historic event
of our time. ▪
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