I deliberately place “ecological” before “postcolonial” in the hyphenated word of the subheading. This is an operational strategy of the framework within which the selected texts in this study are read. It is meant to indicate that, as evident in Nigerian history and literature, before the peoples who make up Nigeria today experienced the postcolonial, they had experienced the ecological and have continued to do so.2 In other words, Nigerian literature, perhaps more than any other national literatures in Africa, remains a rich resource with which to validate the argument that nature and the environment, the biotic and the abiotic life forms, and indeed the relations between the human and the nonhuman, have long been thematised in Africa before the emergence of what we now know as ecocriticism. Writing in 2007, William Slaymaker could, therefore, conclude that “Nigerian literature is a treasure trove for the ecocritic and literary environmentalist” (130). To unveil this “treasure trove,” as is my major aim in this book, is to project the aesthetic compass of Nigerian literature from the traditional lore to the modern craft. As my focus here is on the modern craft, which, of course, takes its life from the traditional lore, I return us to the categories of nature, environment, and activism, as they structure written eco-literature. By elaborating on them here, I attempt to construct the particularity of the ecocritical experience in Nigerian literature.
Nature, environment, activism
I use nature as a concept to capture the closeness of humans to their natural-spiritual environment, their interdependence, and the fruitful world of harmony that is imagined by writers. People’s closeness to nature in the precolonial past, their understanding of their ecology, and their spiritual connections to the ecosystems were ways through which they were othered by colonial institutions (government, religion, education) through the discourse of primitiveness. While the colonialists chose to view it as primitive, pagan, and superstitious, the people’s connection with the natural world was such that they saw themselves as part of the world, and the form they took as human was tentative, ephemeral, and impermanent. Life was thought of in the form of a cycle whereby the human dies and returns to the dead and then prepares to return to the world through the process of incarnation.3 The human form, in its transience, becomes something of a bodily ensemble of other life forms, which need attending to in the form of constant recognition and interaction. For instance, connecting himself to Mother Idoto, as Okigbo does in the poem “Idoto,” implies recognising the attributes of the goddess in his lineage, in himself, and constantly interacting with her spiritually and physically since it sometimes entails going to a specified river to perform certain rituals:
Before you, mother Idoto,
naked I stand,
before your watery presence,
a prodigal
leaning on an oilbean;
lost in your legend….
(1–6)
The persona, having strayed into western modernity, chooses to return, now seeing herself/himself as a prodigal. In other words, having compared the two (tradition and modernity), s/he realises that s/he had earlier taken a wrong decision. To return to the water goddess, to the native ways of life, is to privilege nature, as the poem does.
There is also a strong form of interdependence, valued in traditional society as much as taking water out of a river for domestic purposes. This interdependence is a phenomenon that seeks to destabilise the rationality of enlightenment/modernity in the present time whereby some literary works suggest a return to ‘nature’ by staging indigenous epistemologies as a way forward for societal progress. In point of fact, Okigbo’s notion of prodigality is a metaphorical rendering of the agitation, since colonial time, that a retreat from a rather failed west-rooted modernity, indeed a return to traditionalism, is one way for Nigeria to get to know the roots of her socio-political problems. Writers discussed under the category of nature are not necessarily conscious environmental writers in that their interests are shaped by traditionalism or, if you prefer, nativism, and the nature (human-nonhuman relations) described in their works is part of the larger context of the pre-modern social space. This is, however, not to think of nature as being in the past because it is pre-modern. It is, rather, in a continuous conflict with failed modernity in Nigeria – failed because the promises of modernity are yet to be fulfilled, and traditionalism constantly reminds us that rather than continuing to hope on modernity, we need to return to nativism. The points about nature are fully fleshed out in Chapter 2.
In the case of environment, I focus on the aestheticisation of the Nigerian built landscape. That is, the human-influenced environment in literature, from the rural to the urban, especially with the onset of modernity. One of the consequences of modernity is the transformation of rural and urban spaces, described by Emily Brownell and Toyin Falola as a “massive human intervention in landscapes and […] encroachment of the modern world into [African] nature” (1). In colonial terms, this transformation is viewed as western civilisation. By now, people have been persuaded to abandon their natural way of living, their close contacts and interdependence with nature, and to adopt the sophisticated sheltering of modernity. This entails destroying nature to create a built home, western-style. Powerfully drawn to modern consciousness by colonial narratives, Nigerians (especially the emerging elite) acquired a taste and a technology by which they effect the destruction of nature in order to raise structures as a normal way of living. But the urbanisation process, even from the beginning, is fraught with insufficient urban and regional planning. One of the early poems of J. P. Clark titled “Ibadan” captures the potential chaos that will eventually become characteristic of most Nigerian urban centres. The six-line poem reads,
Ibadan,
running splash of rust
and gold – flung and scattered
among seven hills like broken
china in the sun.
The rust of the roofing zincs, when reflected by the sun, gives a gold colour. But it is deeper than that, as the feeling of having gold is what most people feel when they are lucky to have a white-collar job and live in a city like Ibadan. The sense of golden modernity is contrasted with the reality of rust. The city, unorganised, unplanned, and untended, gives the picture of broken china from an aerial view. In this short poem, Clark powerfully interrogates the kind of modernity that bids us to leave the comfort of nature, migrate to the city (notice the reality of overpopulation in “flung and scattered”), and live in rust while having the feeling of possessing gold.
With neo-liberal capitalism, Nigerian landscape becomes severely pressured by the technology of building, of exerting forces on nature. Even before flag independence, what eventually became a large-scale modern invasion of nature in Nigeria began in 1957 with the discovery of crude oil in Oloibiri in the Niger Delta region. The Delta region, till today, remains the most sordid example of the de-naturing of Nigerian landscape, where the effects are vivid and unashamedly left unclean – oil spills, gas flares, abandoned large equipment, polluted waters, etc.4 Beyond human-caused environmental hazards, Nigeria has come to contend with the effects of climate change, which have manifested mainly in the forms of excessive rains, flooding, erosion, desertification, drought, etc. Literary works are increasingly emerging in different traditional genres and in new ones (open mic poetry, stand-up comedy, documentary film) dealing with the fate of the landscape in the present time. The literary works are concerned with the creation of the modern space, through urbanisation, to cater for a modern life and how the creation profoundly affects the physical environment. At this point, the Nigerian writer has become conscious of the environment, particularly its crises, which are, in the view of the writer, the consequences of failed modernity. Chapter 3 is where I further purse the degradation of the environment as a result of human activities and climate change.
Describing the physical environment or the landscape, as some conscious environmental writers do, is not enough. A strand of environmental writing, therefore, pushes the boundary towards activism, whereby emphasis is laid on the instrumentalism of literature to the extent that the writer could be viewed as militant. In this premise, I use the category of activism to draw attention to environmental writing that is aggressively confrontational to institutional powers in zones of deliberate eco-destruction. The notion of activism pursued here is mainly textual to the extent that my attention is on the activisms of the characters in the texts, not necessarily of the authors, although I present the argument that the texts’ focalisers are often the voices of the authors. I, therefore, attempt to shift the focus from the writer-activist (Nixon, Slow Violence 14–16) to the activist imaginary created through the force of literary alterity. It is a fact that environmental activism, the type I deal with here, is more dramatised in what is emerging as the Niger Delta eco-writing – a category that emerged as a result of the judicial killing of Ken Saro-Wiwa, who suffered persecution for his environmen...