Akeem Lasisi
Another giant tree fell in the revered forest of Nigerian literature on Sunday when veteran poet, Gabriel Okara, passed on.
Okara was one of the best gifts that the muse gave Nigeria, based on his proficiency and quality of his output.
He was said to have died at the Federal Medical Centre, Yenagoa, Bayelsa State, where he had resided and was adored like a jewel by the people.
With his passage at 98 years short of just a month, a big hole has again been created on the country’s literary firmament as the passage is comparable to those of Chinua Achebe, Akinwumi Ishola and Elechi Amadi, the last being the author of the fine novel titled ‘The Concubine’.
As a resilient poet who straddled some four literary generations, Okara represented practically every thematic phase that reflected the sociopolitical and cultural evolution of Nigeria.
His early works, for instance, captured the pre-colonial era while he was also one of the writers who fervently documented the colonial and civil war epochs.
But that Okara remained relevant all through could be measured by his concern in ‘The Dreamer, His Vision’, the collection of poems with which he jointly won the Nigeria Literature Prize – with Ezenwa Ohaeto, also late.
Okara dedicated the work to winner of the June 12 presidential election, which was annulled by the Babangida junta. It was a surprise move by a poet who many would otherwise regard as being apolitical and ‘gentle’, compared to his contemporary, Wole Soyinka, who is ever creatively and physically in the trenches.
Yet, Okara had arguably achieved poems for which he will for long be remembered decades before he celebrated Abiola in 2004. While a poem such as ‘Once Upon a Time’ remains a shining example of the most iconic reflection any thinker can make about the past and modernity, his ‘The Call of the River Nun’ remains canonical in terms of its adoration of culture and nature and its examination of the transient character of life.
No wonder, the poem remains one of the most studied and is usually on the lips of pupils across generations. Ironically, the old man of a million images has finally heeded the ultimate call, one that is so final that even the great River Nun herself cannot but be sober for the loss of her legendary son.
While tributes have started pouring on Okara’s memory, the Association of Nigerian Authors, Bayelsa State chapter, in a statement by its chairman, Mrs. Bina Ilagha, said, “The association is ruffled by the news because it came at a time when preparations were in top gear to celebrate his masterpiece, The Voice, at 55.
“We are saddened by the news, but are consoled that he left behind lofty legacies.
“Pa Okara, through his literary exploits, put Bayelsa on the map of literary excellence.”
Also, the speech writer to the governor of Bayelsa State and one time chairman of ANA, Mr. Michael Afenfia, in a statement in Yenagoa said: “It is with great sadness that I received the news of the passing of the renowned poet and novelist, Gabriel Okara.
“Even in passing, I am sure your poem, Piano and Drums, will minister to me in many ways.
“Your words are an inspiration! Your concerns about the African culture in the face of Western threat as expressed in Once Upon a Time are ever before me.
“Thank you for leaving us with so much to remember of your time here with us.”
The Call of the River Nun
I hear your call!
I hear it far away;
I hear it break the circle of these crouching hills.
I want to view your face again and feel your cold embrace;
or at your brim to set myself and inhale your breath;
or like the trees, to watch my mirrored self unfold and span my days with song from the lips of dawn.
I hear your lapping call!
I hear it coming through; invoking the ghost of a child listening, where river birds hail your silver-surfaced flow.
My river’s calling too!
Its ceaseless flow impels my found’ring canoe down its inevitable course.
And each dying year brings near the sea-bird call, the final call that stills the crested waves and breaks in two the curtain of silence of my upturned canoe.
O incomprehensible God!
Shall my pilot be my inborn stars to that final call to Thee.
O my river’s complex course?
