I write the way my grandmother would tell those stories, says Anietie Usen
Village Boy by Anietie Usen is penned in the nostalgic tradition of portraying life in Nigeria’s rural communities, how life was in the 1970s and 1980s. In this intervew, Usen traces his life’s story as teh village boy and what life so memorable in the village in years gone by
Your book is about childhood memories. How much of your own childhood is found in your book?
MY name is Anietie Usen, I was privileged to grow up with my grandmother under the palm trees in my village, smoking rats out of their dark holes for meals and chasing insects desperately at night for snacks. There is a chapter in my book where I called eating of termites as barbecue of termites. As an orphan in the village, I became rugged. I lost my father when I was two years old and I only see him in pictures and that’s how I wound up with my aged grandmother in the village. My father died in the city of Lagos on Broad Street in a motor accident. Going through primary school was a task, but I managed to pass through primary and to secondary schools. My mother sent a letter to some of my father’s friends to remember this your friend that died, that his son is ready to go to secondary school, but there is no money for that. And so five of them gathered together on a Sunday and decided to contribute money for me to go to secondary school.
Immediately, I went back to my grandmother because the marriage between my father and my mother was just three years old. I was the only child then and later my mother gave birth to my brother. I found myself with my grandmother. My maternal grandparents pulled back their grand daughter. I grew up with my paternal grandmother; she was a very impactful woman, hard worker of the highest order. I started the story with her. For me, that was my first appreciation for my environment. Eventually, my mother took over and she was the one that wrote letters to my father’s friends in Lagos. My mother was an outstanding woman.
That was how I was on their scholarship and they used to send money to my school through postal order. The thought of going to secondary school was a challenge. There is a chapter in this book that I said the best bicycle repairer that never was, because I was supposed to learn how to repair bicycles after my primary school; I refused and was adamant. My uncles tried a whole lot in that direction and I said I want to go to secondary. Eventually, with the help of my late father’s friends, I waw able to go to secondary school.
Now, to go to the university was completely ruled out, and I didn’t know that small boys go to the university, but one of my father’s friends employed me in Lagos. He was working with WAEC, and he was sent to become the deputy registrar in Nsukka. When they established Calabar campus at Nsukka, I had just finished secondary school, and I was sitting in his office to be opening admission letters. That was how I found out that young people go to the university and I said to myself that I must go. I spent like six or seven months as a clerk in his office before I got admission. In those days, we were the first set of JAMB in 1978. I went and told my mother that I was going to university, and she said ‘no, you just started working; let us make small money.’ I had a younger brother; my mother was obviously pregnant before my father died. I didn’t tell the registrar about it initially, because I just started work and I was going to put a burden on him.
Anietie Usen
Then I heard that there was a man from my village who was living in Port Harcourt was very rich, and I decided to go and see him, and he promised me that he was going to pay my tuition fees. At that time, the man was an accountant and was working with Nigerian Airport Authority and he owned a hotel. In the evenings when he comes back from work, he would stay in the hotel. It was in the hotel that I went to meet him and I saw someone from my village, who was a cook and he gave me plenty of food to eat while I waited for him. When he came back from work in night, I was taken to his office and was introduced as the son of the late Usen, and he said, ‘oh, you have grown up. Where have you people been? I had a copy of Daily Times under my armpit because the list of those given admission was in that paper and I showed him the paper and said, ‘this is my name and I have admission and I am looking for school fees.’ He said, ‘don’t worry; your father was a good man and we are going to pay for it.’ That was how, I went to the university.
That’s who I am, and I must come to the fact that after university, I was sent to Kano for my National Youth Service Corps. In those days, nobody lobbied to be posted anywhere, because Nigeria was good then. Before then, as a little boy, I was cracking kernels and my grandmother said I shouldn’t go to school that day but stay back to crack kernels. In those days, kernels were very valuable in the village. It was like money and it could be used for transaction. You will enjoy Village Boy because it is a story of village kids and their struggles. Have you noticed that most of the children that have breakthrough are not like children of these days from rich homes? We had no problem about fufu, which was stable and we had to go and buy fish. That day I stayed back to crack palm kernels, so that we could buy food. I was cracking kernels on a quiet morning; only goats and hens were around. There is a chapter in the book that I called ‘Castle in the Jungle,’ which is my grandmother’s house, and I was cracking kernels alone when I saw something that I had never seen before. I saw a convoy of black cars and then it went to a particular house and I saw a big man, the governor of the state at that time, M.I. Okpara come out of the car and go in to the house.
As a little boy, when I went with my grandmother to people’s houses, I was always fascinated with the almanac in their houses and I would take a look at them and read them. When I got to Kano in the camp, the governor, Abubakar Rimi came to the camp to do the opening ceremony and I shook hands with him. Of course, two weeks later I was posted to my primary assignment in Government House, Kano, and I went to look for the place. On my way back, I was given a car to take me back. I was working directly with the governor. I was given a three bedroom flat with a cook, gardener, security, etc. I began to experience that life that I saw in a trance as a village boy. I was the best Corps member in Kano that year and they gave me a job with Triumph newspaper then, but I refused to work. I came back to Lagos and got a job with Punch newspaper and from there joined the late Dele Giwa’s NewsWatch. I was a pioneer reporter at NewsWatch (first five reporters there). I was the first person to be promoted there in four months.
In 18 months, I was already in the board of directors and by God’s grace, I did very well. I won so many awards both internally and externally.
At that time, the only journalism award was sponsored by UAC Unilever and the winner used to go for three months Fellowship in the United Kingdom with Thompson Foundation and Reuters. They took me there, all expenses paid in 1989. I came back and won so many other journalism awards. I have had awards like Excellence in Feature Writing by NUJ among others.
How did you get into writing books?
I have never had a formal training in writing or journalism. I gatecrashed into journalism. I studied Political Science. Folklores and folktales in the village when my grandmother would be telling you stories. Sometimes, you will be gripped with suspense and, if it is a frightening story, you will not be able to sleep. Later on in secondary school, we got addicted to reading books by James Hadley Chase and Pacesetters series, among others, and that was how I write the way my grandmother would tell those stories. Your uncles will tell you stories, and then you jump into James Hardly Chase and compete with your classmates in reading books. I also read Time magazine. When you read those stories, you would love them. When I started writing, unconsciously, I was telling stories like that. I became the General Editor in a very short span of time which was the highest position aside the late Dele Giwa and Dan Agbese. I was all over the world for them. After the (Gideon) Orkar coup, I went there and I captured a picture of mayhem! I was there that same day.
How does being on this longlist impact your future writing goals and ambition? Do you see pressure in moving forward?
No! I transverse both private and public sectors. Sometimes, I pick up political appointments and leave. My last point of call was with Niger Delta Development Commission (NDDC). I was the founding Director, Corporate Affairs in NDDC. I remained there and occupied other positions and became a director, and when I was 60 years old, I left NDDC.
People said that I should retire and I said, ‘no’; rather I will refire. This is the refiring by writing books. People had been saying that I should write. I don’t have pressure about writing because I’m very grateful to God that I am among the nominees. After all, I just started writing recently. Village Boy is about three years’ old. I don’t feel any pressure; I have so many books in the works right now. I am just happy about The Nigeria Prize for Literature has come into the picture and it has encouraged me to do more. This is an encouragement and it is something to really commend Nigeria LNG, because it has inspired me.
Village Boy was just seven weeks in the public space when it drew the attention of United Nations SDG’s Book Club in Namibia. I am inspired and encouraged by The Nigeria Prize for Literature recognition and nomination. I don’t feel any pressure. I am just happy about the prize, and it has encouraged me to do more. More books are coming.
Why did you decide to tell the story now?
You know a reporter’s life. You don’t have any time at all to yourself and when I got into the public service, I was also a director in the boardroom affairs at NDDC. The pressure was much. Immediately I retired from NDDC, I wrote these three books. It was the time that matters.
What is Village Boy all about?
Village Boy is about village children and village life. I just thought that I should get a picture with words about our villages and allow readers to see our villages even when they don’t get there in colours. Covid-19 provided that opportunity for me to write the book. It is about village children, their struggles, the way their mindset, worldview, cosmology, their percept of life and situations. All of these are intertwined; there are different ramifications. For instance, how do they have their medications and treatment? Their type of medications would daze you here. You can’t believe how it works, but it was okay. If somebody, for instance, has epilepsy, they will just put the person by the plantain leaves and leave you there. You will come out after some time healed. How do these children get medication? How they play? How they go to school? How they help their families and in the process become rugged? People used to tell me, how did you go to Liberia, Afghanistan in the middle of wars to report stories? I do tell them that I am a village boy, that I used to run about like chasing rats in the bush. Village Boy is very experiential. There is nothing like writing about your experience. I want to encourage journalists, write something, leave something behind. There is a story all over the place to be written.
If you win the prize, what will you do with the money?
I have a foundation that trains orphans. There was a time that I had 65 orphans in various institutions. But the number has reduced now. I have about 27/28 orphans in various institutions now. I am a friend of orphans. Those parents whose mothers are roasting plantain or corn by the roadside are my friends. I have never befriended or be close to children of wealthy families. My friends are children of people that I can help. I will be happy to have additional funding for scholarship programmes for orphans, care for widows. My foundation, Sheer Grace Foundation is registered as an educational charity. That is the definition of my life, that by the share grace of god, a nobody becomes somebody.
