Scotland Yard has just been handed a poisoned chalice. Detectives from Scotland Yard have arrived in Nigeria, at the invitation of the Nigerian government to help unravel the truth behind the assassination of Funsho Williams, the politician brutally murdered in his bedroom in Lagos last week. Call me a cynic but I suspect the motivation of the Nigerian governement in inviting them. Working in unfamiliar terrain, arriving almost 24 hours after the event and lacking the necessary infrastructure/materials (CCTV etc), I suspect they'll have their work cut out. And if they fail, I can just imagine the Nigerian government crowing "Well, even the experts from Scotland Yard couldn't crack it, so you can't blame us, can you?"
I finished Londonstani and my verdict remains- readable, insightful but not a great book. Not even the not wholly plausible last minute sting in the tale saves it from being an average read. And to think some people were actually talking about it being nominated for the Booker...
Ditto for Alentejo Blue, Monica Ali's latest book, after Brick Lane. It's beautifully written- great prose and vivid pictures, but there's just too much going on. As she attempts to chart the lives of the inhabitants of a Portuguese village in the Alentejo, it feels as if she's trying to cram in every snapshot, every vignette, every story thread that she's ever stumbled across in the Portuguese village where she apparently owns a house with her husband. She should probably have focussed on four major characters max, or as an alternative written a much fatter book to allow all the different stories play out properly.....
Two weeks ago, I had an e mail forwarded to me from a friend. Apparently the Nigerian Immigration Service had cancelled a whole bunch of passports and circulated the numbers without informing the passport holders. So some people had found themselves refused entry at airports because their passports had been cancelled. I was sent a link to the NIS website http://www.immigration.gov.ng/index2.htm to make sure that my passport was not on the list displayed there. Thankfully it wasn't but what I did stumble across was this list of requirements for obtaining a Nigerian passport , http://www.immigration.gov.ng/passportypes.htm which for married women apparently includes a letter of consent from their husbands. There is no similar requirement for married men. Not too long ago, Jeremy Weate of naijablog published a post that began "it's 2006 abroad but in Nigeria it's 1956". That post provoked a lot of angry comment. Methinks that as far as this ridiculous requirement stands it's the 19th century in Nigeria. Do Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala, Dora Akunyili and Oby Ezekwesili and the rest of Obasanjo's amazons know about this requirement? I sense an opportunity for a brief, effective campaign, any takers?
Monday, July 31, 2006
Friday, July 28, 2006
Some good news,reading Londonstani, musing on stubbornness and another callous murder
Had some good news last night, just as I was leaving work. My phone rang and I took it out, answering casually, lazily"hellloo?"..... Is that Uknaija? the crisp, clipped voice said- It's Y here from Company Z.... It took a while for the words to register and for me to realize that this was a very important telephone call and a company topshot at the other end of the phone. "I was just ringing to let you know that we thought your proposal was the most credible and innovative and we will be going with it? We'll be sending out detailed paperwork tomorrow but I thought I'd let you know" And then the voice goes on to ask..."Are you surprised?" Am I !!!! "I'm stunned" is my response. The timing couldn't be better as I'd had a bit of a blip at work this week.....
On to the library where I bagged two of the books that had long been on my hit list- Gautam Malkani's Londonstani about a group of British-Asian "rudeboys" growing up in Hounslow and Monica Ali's Alentejo Blue set in a Portuguese village. Both haven't had great reviews, but I'd read an excerpt from Londonstani in Prospect a while ago and was intrigued by the experimental language in which it was written- a mishmash of Cockney, African-Caribbean, South Asian and hip-hop gangsta slang. I'm about halfway through and can see why the reviewers weren't so excited. It's a great and original theme exploring what it means to be a young British Asian man in London in 2006, but you can't help feeling that the author's trying too hard to over-analyze and extrapolate and theorize at the expense of the credibility of the story and the characters. And you can tell that the author writes for the Financial Times-he litters the book with economic phrases and arguments, sometimes putting them in the mouths of his characters in a way that detracts from the story. Perhaps he needs to write another non-fiction book outlining his economic theories. Nevertheless, it's an interesting story so far and gripping enough to keep my attention and the insights into another immigrant culture are valuable. I'll finish it off over the weekend.
To celebrate my good news I went with a friend to dinner at this fab new restaurant- we had lobster, potato and rocket salad to start and then slices of duck breast with caramelized endive in a peppercorn sauce and turnip gratin. The main was fabulous with the bitterness of the endives cutting the rich duck meat but also softened by the caramelization process; and the peppercorn sauce providing a spicy counterpoint to the richness of the creamy turnip gratin. Washed down with glasses of cold crisp, white wine, sitting on a quiet terrcae high up above the city, it was another delightful summer
On the radio, a representative of Muslim Brotherhood declaring that Israel has no right to exist as a nation, despite several attempts to make him modify his assertion, he is adamant. Meanwhile Israel thanks the international community for "giving it permission" to go ahead with its Lebanon campaign, and declares that everyone still in South Lebanon must be a terrorist as they had long been given notice to evacuate the region. As if it were so simple. With attitudes like these, it's unlikely that there will be progress made in peace talks. Sad but true.
Even sadder and more depressing is the news of the brutal callous murder of Funsho Williams, the grey bearded affable engineer who had consistently for the past ten years made no secret of his ambitions to rule Lagos State. Stabbed several times and then strangled in his own home by unknown assailants in spite of a heavy police armed guard, the news this morning was an ominous portent for politicking ahead of the 2007 elections. The Inspector General of Police has vowed to track down those responsible, but I can't help thinking of the long list of unsolved murders- from Chief Bola Ige, the late Minister of Justice assasinated in his own home to Chief Dikibo, Marshall Harry- and how we were also promised that "the perpetrators would be brought to book" One of the prime suspects in the Ige case today sits in the Senate as a "Distinguished Senator". Until we entrench accountability, the principle that actions have consequences, into our national life, we will sadly continue to see brazen instances of murder such as this.
On to the library where I bagged two of the books that had long been on my hit list- Gautam Malkani's Londonstani about a group of British-Asian "rudeboys" growing up in Hounslow and Monica Ali's Alentejo Blue set in a Portuguese village. Both haven't had great reviews, but I'd read an excerpt from Londonstani in Prospect a while ago and was intrigued by the experimental language in which it was written- a mishmash of Cockney, African-Caribbean, South Asian and hip-hop gangsta slang. I'm about halfway through and can see why the reviewers weren't so excited. It's a great and original theme exploring what it means to be a young British Asian man in London in 2006, but you can't help feeling that the author's trying too hard to over-analyze and extrapolate and theorize at the expense of the credibility of the story and the characters. And you can tell that the author writes for the Financial Times-he litters the book with economic phrases and arguments, sometimes putting them in the mouths of his characters in a way that detracts from the story. Perhaps he needs to write another non-fiction book outlining his economic theories. Nevertheless, it's an interesting story so far and gripping enough to keep my attention and the insights into another immigrant culture are valuable. I'll finish it off over the weekend.
To celebrate my good news I went with a friend to dinner at this fab new restaurant- we had lobster, potato and rocket salad to start and then slices of duck breast with caramelized endive in a peppercorn sauce and turnip gratin. The main was fabulous with the bitterness of the endives cutting the rich duck meat but also softened by the caramelization process; and the peppercorn sauce providing a spicy counterpoint to the richness of the creamy turnip gratin. Washed down with glasses of cold crisp, white wine, sitting on a quiet terrcae high up above the city, it was another delightful summer
On the radio, a representative of Muslim Brotherhood declaring that Israel has no right to exist as a nation, despite several attempts to make him modify his assertion, he is adamant. Meanwhile Israel thanks the international community for "giving it permission" to go ahead with its Lebanon campaign, and declares that everyone still in South Lebanon must be a terrorist as they had long been given notice to evacuate the region. As if it were so simple. With attitudes like these, it's unlikely that there will be progress made in peace talks. Sad but true.
Even sadder and more depressing is the news of the brutal callous murder of Funsho Williams, the grey bearded affable engineer who had consistently for the past ten years made no secret of his ambitions to rule Lagos State. Stabbed several times and then strangled in his own home by unknown assailants in spite of a heavy police armed guard, the news this morning was an ominous portent for politicking ahead of the 2007 elections. The Inspector General of Police has vowed to track down those responsible, but I can't help thinking of the long list of unsolved murders- from Chief Bola Ige, the late Minister of Justice assasinated in his own home to Chief Dikibo, Marshall Harry- and how we were also promised that "the perpetrators would be brought to book" One of the prime suspects in the Ige case today sits in the Senate as a "Distinguished Senator". Until we entrench accountability, the principle that actions have consequences, into our national life, we will sadly continue to see brazen instances of murder such as this.
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
A dark day, musical memories and reading dark Shriver
It's going to be one of those days, when you wake up and you just feel like going straight back to bed and staying there- not eating, not sleeping, not doing, just being. Looks like it's time for a break from work. I've got one coming up in a couple of weeks, but I'll need a tremendous amount of willpower to get through the next few days.
Yesterday, walking past some houses, I overheard someone playing Whitney Houston's "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" and I was taken back instantly to the first time I heard the song (or maybe it wasn't the first time, just the one time it became etched in my memory). A darkened living room somewhere in the posher sections of Festac Town, a bunch of teenagers trying to feel too cool for school- the boys huddled in conspiratorial groups in various corners; the girls coalescing, laughing loudly- too loud, maybe to hide their nervousness, and then the first notes of this song blare out and the open space in the middle of the dance floor is packed with writhing bodies, and I am in the middle of it all......
Strange how some songs are indelibly associated with certain memories- Sister Sledge's Frankie will always conjure up memories of a "lit day"(Lit coming probably from the fact that these events usually happened under the guise of a Literary and Debating Society Day- though very little literature or debating went on) as our school social events were then called with three girls strutting in unison, rhythmically swaying to the sound. They were from the American styled private school, not far from us and were allowed to wear make up with their school uniforms, which made them seem incredibly sophisticated, and made them the object of hatred for girls from the myriad other schools around......each time I hear the opening bars, I remember those three girls, all respectably married matrons now in far-flung corners of the globe, strutting their stuff, snapping their fingers and swaying ever so slowly to the beat.......
I'm currently stuck in the middle of We Need to Talk About Kevin- Lionel Shriver's Orange Prize 2005 win. It's haunting and disturbing-tracing the life of a teenage mass killer through letters from his mother to his father. I've wanted to read it for a long time, especially because many of my friends who have children said they had found it particularly disturbing. I haven't been able to put it down- but perhaps it's partly to blame for my low mood today....
Yesterday, walking past some houses, I overheard someone playing Whitney Houston's "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" and I was taken back instantly to the first time I heard the song (or maybe it wasn't the first time, just the one time it became etched in my memory). A darkened living room somewhere in the posher sections of Festac Town, a bunch of teenagers trying to feel too cool for school- the boys huddled in conspiratorial groups in various corners; the girls coalescing, laughing loudly- too loud, maybe to hide their nervousness, and then the first notes of this song blare out and the open space in the middle of the dance floor is packed with writhing bodies, and I am in the middle of it all......
Strange how some songs are indelibly associated with certain memories- Sister Sledge's Frankie will always conjure up memories of a "lit day"(Lit coming probably from the fact that these events usually happened under the guise of a Literary and Debating Society Day- though very little literature or debating went on) as our school social events were then called with three girls strutting in unison, rhythmically swaying to the sound. They were from the American styled private school, not far from us and were allowed to wear make up with their school uniforms, which made them seem incredibly sophisticated, and made them the object of hatred for girls from the myriad other schools around......each time I hear the opening bars, I remember those three girls, all respectably married matrons now in far-flung corners of the globe, strutting their stuff, snapping their fingers and swaying ever so slowly to the beat.......
I'm currently stuck in the middle of We Need to Talk About Kevin- Lionel Shriver's Orange Prize 2005 win. It's haunting and disturbing-tracing the life of a teenage mass killer through letters from his mother to his father. I've wanted to read it for a long time, especially because many of my friends who have children said they had found it particularly disturbing. I haven't been able to put it down- but perhaps it's partly to blame for my low mood today....
Monday, July 24, 2006
Impressed by Virgin, unimpressed by Yahoo and the delights of an English summer weekend
Not a bad weekend. Friday saw me at Heathrow, seeing off friends going back to Nigeria. They were flying Virgin Upper class and I was impressed by the service, the pick-up limo, the luggage whisked through check in, etc etc, especially as it contrasted so starkly with me seeing off a friend's father flying business class back to Nigeria on KLM recently whose treatment left a fair bit to be desired. Two of his three suitcases were overweight, which I grant was his fault but the disdain with which the check in staff treated him, as he struggled to repack and redistribute the weight was appalling. This is the second time I've been impressed by Virgin. The first was my last trip to New York when I was well-impressed by the entertainment system- each seat had it's own video/television which you could pause and restart as needed, without being held captive by a centrally coordinated film system. In addition, the array of new films they had was impressive. Sadly on the flight back, it was the bog-standard central system.
At a party Friday night I find myself chatting to this guy who works for Yahoo. I make a mock cross-sign when he tells me who he works for and he asks why. I cite the case of the Chinese bloggers and he responds by saying that what the media reports fail to recognise is that their China offices were stormed by gun-wielding Chinese police. I'm skeptical and make this clear, and then he makes a comment which I find worrying. After all, he says, people haven't got any choice- they'll need to keep using Yahoo and Google because they are the best available, no matter how much they hate their policies. For their sakes, I hope he doesn't work in strategy, because I think that while people may not have choices now, dissatisfaction with the status quo is a potential growth area and a potential chink in the armour of the big guys. The attitude of "You have no choice" seems shockingly similar to New Labour's laid back attitude and look where it's leading them......
Saturday I'm at a dinner party and our host has prepared the loveliest roast chicken with roast potatoes. We eat outside in the Zen influenced garden and for once, I can actually understand a bit of what the fuss about English summers is all about. The first course is an amazing Stilton ice cream- a juxtaposition of cold and savoury which is perfect for a summer dinner....
On Sunday, to Tate Britain to see the Howard Hodgkin retrospective- I'm skeptical when a friend invites me but the vibrant colours and the way in which he is able to convey moods through colours and brushstrokes has me glowing gently all day....
All through the weekend the Middle East crisis preys on my mind- and I am particularly touched by the plight of the Lebanese people- the grass suffering as it is trampled,caught between the elephants of Hizbollah and Israel.....
At a party Friday night I find myself chatting to this guy who works for Yahoo. I make a mock cross-sign when he tells me who he works for and he asks why. I cite the case of the Chinese bloggers and he responds by saying that what the media reports fail to recognise is that their China offices were stormed by gun-wielding Chinese police. I'm skeptical and make this clear, and then he makes a comment which I find worrying. After all, he says, people haven't got any choice- they'll need to keep using Yahoo and Google because they are the best available, no matter how much they hate their policies. For their sakes, I hope he doesn't work in strategy, because I think that while people may not have choices now, dissatisfaction with the status quo is a potential growth area and a potential chink in the armour of the big guys. The attitude of "You have no choice" seems shockingly similar to New Labour's laid back attitude and look where it's leading them......
Saturday I'm at a dinner party and our host has prepared the loveliest roast chicken with roast potatoes. We eat outside in the Zen influenced garden and for once, I can actually understand a bit of what the fuss about English summers is all about. The first course is an amazing Stilton ice cream- a juxtaposition of cold and savoury which is perfect for a summer dinner....
On Sunday, to Tate Britain to see the Howard Hodgkin retrospective- I'm skeptical when a friend invites me but the vibrant colours and the way in which he is able to convey moods through colours and brushstrokes has me glowing gently all day....
All through the weekend the Middle East crisis preys on my mind- and I am particularly touched by the plight of the Lebanese people- the grass suffering as it is trampled,caught between the elephants of Hizbollah and Israel.....
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Cooler weather now but incensed at avoidable tragedy in Nigeria, reading Burroughs and watching a family
Yesterday was scorching hot and we actually had an e mail at work detailing that we could "dress down", reminding us that we should drink plenty of fluids and asking that we monitor the temperature in our offices as there are apparently legal limits to how hot it can be in an office....
Thankfully today there's still good weather but there are more breezes and it's not so brain-fryingly hot....
Sad to read in the Nigerian newspapers today of a collapsed building in Ebute Metta in Lagos in which twelve people were killed. Two things that incensed me were- first, the fact that the developer had apparently been given permission for a two storey building but had ended up building a four storey building; and second, the fact that the rescue efforts were hampered by the absence of the necessary heavy equipment needed to rescue those trapped in the rubble. In the end, equipment was borrowed from a construction company........the lack of value attached to human lives in Nigeria still haunts me....
And in a reminder that accidents happen everywhere, 25 people were taken to hospital after one of the game rides at Alton Towers, a major theme park here, malfunctioned. I've always been wary of these fairground rides- call it my Naija unsophisticated naivete- but the thought of being hurled high up into the sky by a contraption is one that I'm uncomfortable with. Now, now, I can hear you snigger- but you fly so often in planes- I know- it's perverse and illogical but it's me.
I finished Augusten Burroughs' Sellevision yesterday and I found it quite funny, in direct contrast to his two previous books- Dry and Running With Scissors which were touted as being very funny but which I struggled to finish.
Last night, having a drink in the bar with friends, there was this very interesting family-Grandfather, father and son and a rather glamorous woman of a certain age who I assume was wife/mother- they seemed to be Greek or Turkish and the two older men click-clacked on their worry beads the whole time they were there. Father, brash and successful in his sleek blazer and large gold watch downed Scotch after Scotch to the irritation of distinguished, dignified, grey-haired grandfather who vociferously upbraided him in their language. Wife and son, disinterestedly flicked through what looked like brochures for one of the local universities, as their husband and father scowled in resentment at his father's chastisement. With the scowl on his face, I imagined I could see him as a little boy being chastised like this by his father and putting on the very same scowl, which education, money and success could not erase.....
Thankfully today there's still good weather but there are more breezes and it's not so brain-fryingly hot....
Sad to read in the Nigerian newspapers today of a collapsed building in Ebute Metta in Lagos in which twelve people were killed. Two things that incensed me were- first, the fact that the developer had apparently been given permission for a two storey building but had ended up building a four storey building; and second, the fact that the rescue efforts were hampered by the absence of the necessary heavy equipment needed to rescue those trapped in the rubble. In the end, equipment was borrowed from a construction company........the lack of value attached to human lives in Nigeria still haunts me....
And in a reminder that accidents happen everywhere, 25 people were taken to hospital after one of the game rides at Alton Towers, a major theme park here, malfunctioned. I've always been wary of these fairground rides- call it my Naija unsophisticated naivete- but the thought of being hurled high up into the sky by a contraption is one that I'm uncomfortable with. Now, now, I can hear you snigger- but you fly so often in planes- I know- it's perverse and illogical but it's me.
I finished Augusten Burroughs' Sellevision yesterday and I found it quite funny, in direct contrast to his two previous books- Dry and Running With Scissors which were touted as being very funny but which I struggled to finish.
Last night, having a drink in the bar with friends, there was this very interesting family-Grandfather, father and son and a rather glamorous woman of a certain age who I assume was wife/mother- they seemed to be Greek or Turkish and the two older men click-clacked on their worry beads the whole time they were there. Father, brash and successful in his sleek blazer and large gold watch downed Scotch after Scotch to the irritation of distinguished, dignified, grey-haired grandfather who vociferously upbraided him in their language. Wife and son, disinterestedly flicked through what looked like brochures for one of the local universities, as their husband and father scowled in resentment at his father's chastisement. With the scowl on his face, I imagined I could see him as a little boy being chastised like this by his father and putting on the very same scowl, which education, money and success could not erase.....
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
London is hotter than Abuja- who'da thunk it
Just realized, looking at the BBC website that it's 32 degrees here and only 29 degrees in Abuja today......but as my colleague pointed out, the difference is that in Nigeria it's normal and expected and so you're kind of geared up for it. Here, there's allegedly power outtages and computers freezing and roads allegedly melting....and there are predictions that the temperature may even reach 37 degrees this week. Now if that isn't global warming, tell me what is....
Monday, July 17, 2006
Still hot, eating at Nyonya, arguing about the Middle east and musing on the Natwest 3
The heat wave continues and so the weekend passed in a blurry haze of exposed bodies, the slap of flip-flops (bathroom slippers, as they were less poetically known in Nigeria) and invitations to barbecues. It was a restful weekend despite the heat and I was able to snare a couple of books that I had wanted for a while from the library. First on the list was Lionel Shriver's We Need to Talk About Kevin which won the Orange Prize last year. It's been so in demand at the local library that I've only just got my hands on it. I was also able to get hold of Everyman's Rules for Scientific Living which was shortlisted for this year's Orange Prize. I'll be reading them in the days ahead, while lying on my couch after work sipping margaritas or perhaps a menta fresca- a non-alcoholic cocktail of mint and apple juice whic I first tasted over the weekend.
Saturday saw me at Nyonya a very nice Malay Chinese restaurant near Portobello Road. I first went there about a year ago and it was good to see that it was still doing good business and that the Nasi Lemak was still as good as ever. Described as a hawker favourite in Malaysia, the meal consists of coconut rice served with a chicken curry, fried mackerel (fried crunchily bone dry like you would get on the streets of Lagos), groundnuts, half a boiled egg, cucumber slices and sambal( a hot, sweet peppery sauce a bit like a fiery Lagos stew). I've never been to Malaysia, but the meal did seem authentic- you could almost imagine the hawker deftly slicing the hardboiled egg in two and then sprinkling a few groundnuts over the top....it was a great meal, not like the usual Thai, Chinese or Indian to which my experiences of Asian food have largely been limited....and the restaurant is one worth checking out. Funnily enough it isn't miles away from Angies, my favourite Nigerian restaurant on the Harrow Road, the only place that does jollof rice with that smokey, burnt flavour reminiscent of Nigerian party jollof rice...
Now to more somber thoughts- the face off in the Middle East. I got into another argument at the weekend. A friend had condemned Israel's heavy handed rsponse and I had agreed but pointed out that it was unclear what Israel was supposed to have done in the face of the kidnapped soldiers. His response was that Israel should have in a mature way sacrificed the kidnapped soldiers by refusing to negotiate with the kidnappers and therefore undermined them. I wasn't so sure as I felt that part of the Israeli national ethos is that sense of every citizen knowing that the state will go to extraordinary lengths to secure your future, and perhaps this is what Israel was trying to maintain......
Speaking of states and their citizens, many of the commentators on the Natwest 3 got failed to get to the heart of the issue. The Natwest 3 are the British bankers who were allegedly involved in the Enron scandal and who, having unsuccessfully tried to fight extradition, were extradited to face charges in the US last week. They were extradited under a bilateral treaty between the UK and the US, which while it has been ratified by the UK Parliament, is yet to go through Congress in the USA. What rankles me (and I suspect many others) is not the question of whether these men are guilty or not and whether they deserve punishment or not. It is the knowledge that NEVER would the US meekly hand over its citizens if the positions were reversed......this is clear from the way they blocked any possibility of US citizens appearing before UN tribunals- this I suspect is at the heart of the public outcry against extradition which produced an unlikely coalition of human rights campaigners and City businessmen, driven, I suspect by different motivations.....
Saturday saw me at Nyonya a very nice Malay Chinese restaurant near Portobello Road. I first went there about a year ago and it was good to see that it was still doing good business and that the Nasi Lemak was still as good as ever. Described as a hawker favourite in Malaysia, the meal consists of coconut rice served with a chicken curry, fried mackerel (fried crunchily bone dry like you would get on the streets of Lagos), groundnuts, half a boiled egg, cucumber slices and sambal( a hot, sweet peppery sauce a bit like a fiery Lagos stew). I've never been to Malaysia, but the meal did seem authentic- you could almost imagine the hawker deftly slicing the hardboiled egg in two and then sprinkling a few groundnuts over the top....it was a great meal, not like the usual Thai, Chinese or Indian to which my experiences of Asian food have largely been limited....and the restaurant is one worth checking out. Funnily enough it isn't miles away from Angies, my favourite Nigerian restaurant on the Harrow Road, the only place that does jollof rice with that smokey, burnt flavour reminiscent of Nigerian party jollof rice...
Now to more somber thoughts- the face off in the Middle East. I got into another argument at the weekend. A friend had condemned Israel's heavy handed rsponse and I had agreed but pointed out that it was unclear what Israel was supposed to have done in the face of the kidnapped soldiers. His response was that Israel should have in a mature way sacrificed the kidnapped soldiers by refusing to negotiate with the kidnappers and therefore undermined them. I wasn't so sure as I felt that part of the Israeli national ethos is that sense of every citizen knowing that the state will go to extraordinary lengths to secure your future, and perhaps this is what Israel was trying to maintain......
Speaking of states and their citizens, many of the commentators on the Natwest 3 got failed to get to the heart of the issue. The Natwest 3 are the British bankers who were allegedly involved in the Enron scandal and who, having unsuccessfully tried to fight extradition, were extradited to face charges in the US last week. They were extradited under a bilateral treaty between the UK and the US, which while it has been ratified by the UK Parliament, is yet to go through Congress in the USA. What rankles me (and I suspect many others) is not the question of whether these men are guilty or not and whether they deserve punishment or not. It is the knowledge that NEVER would the US meekly hand over its citizens if the positions were reversed......this is clear from the way they blocked any possibility of US citizens appearing before UN tribunals- this I suspect is at the heart of the public outcry against extradition which produced an unlikely coalition of human rights campaigners and City businessmen, driven, I suspect by different motivations.....
Thursday, July 13, 2006
The day before, words versus headbutts, two arrests and making headway with Soyinka
Tomorrow is a big day work wise and so I am in that kind of place where everything appears anti-climactic; and sitting at my desk and looking out on to the sunlit square opposite with skimpily dressed men and women sprawled basking in the sun, I get the sense that I can hear the buzzing of the heat, as if the air is treacle thick, yet clear......
A few days ago on the train I fell into a heated argument over whether or not Zidane was justified or not. While I chanted my mantra, long honed in my childhood playground "Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me", my friends were as resolute in saying that sometimes words could cut as deep if not deeper than blows.....as the temperature in the train carriage soared, so did our passions, as we slung our arguments back and forth....in the end we stopped as normally-reticent London tube travellers swung their heads in our direction.....I've mused on this, long and hard but still struggle to accept that the spoken word, no matter how hateful can be equated with physical violence, but perhaps this is coloured by who I am and my experiences........
This morning on the news, Tony Blair's tennis partner and confidant Lord Levy is arrested on suspicion of peddling peerages. Perhaps this cash for peerages scandal, innocuous as it seems may end up having more serious repercussions than we think......
Meanwhile, back home in Naija, Mike Adenuga, the multibillionaire Chairman of Globacom the telecommunications company who's alleged to have close links to Babangida was apparently also arrested and is now under investigation by the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission, just as the Vice President Atiku Abubakar's bank records are seized by "security operatives" Obviously the stakes for 2007 are rising, especially as Atiku and Babangida recently met to join forces towards 2007
Last night I stayed up late reading Wole Soyinka's "You Must Set Forth at Dawn" I'd tried a few months ago and lost interest, mired in the dense opacity of the first few chapters but yesterday lying on the couch, I went back to it and ploughed through, and once past the first few chapters am now enjoying it...as eclectic and inscrutable as the man himself
A few days ago on the train I fell into a heated argument over whether or not Zidane was justified or not. While I chanted my mantra, long honed in my childhood playground "Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me", my friends were as resolute in saying that sometimes words could cut as deep if not deeper than blows.....as the temperature in the train carriage soared, so did our passions, as we slung our arguments back and forth....in the end we stopped as normally-reticent London tube travellers swung their heads in our direction.....I've mused on this, long and hard but still struggle to accept that the spoken word, no matter how hateful can be equated with physical violence, but perhaps this is coloured by who I am and my experiences........
This morning on the news, Tony Blair's tennis partner and confidant Lord Levy is arrested on suspicion of peddling peerages. Perhaps this cash for peerages scandal, innocuous as it seems may end up having more serious repercussions than we think......
Meanwhile, back home in Naija, Mike Adenuga, the multibillionaire Chairman of Globacom the telecommunications company who's alleged to have close links to Babangida was apparently also arrested and is now under investigation by the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission, just as the Vice President Atiku Abubakar's bank records are seized by "security operatives" Obviously the stakes for 2007 are rising, especially as Atiku and Babangida recently met to join forces towards 2007
Last night I stayed up late reading Wole Soyinka's "You Must Set Forth at Dawn" I'd tried a few months ago and lost interest, mired in the dense opacity of the first few chapters but yesterday lying on the couch, I went back to it and ploughed through, and once past the first few chapters am now enjoying it...as eclectic and inscrutable as the man himself
Monday, July 10, 2006
Miliband, an idea and Wiwa's new post
Rumours that the youthful David Milliband is being considered by the Blairites as a replacement for beleaguered hapless John Prescott. The idea is that he will fend off any potential disloyal Labour candidates or people from Gordon Brown's camp which could potentially weaken Blair.....
I'm instinctively distrustful of Blairites, as I am of most ideologues and yet there's something about the idea that's attractive. Labour needs someone young and fresh if they are to counter Cameron with his "hug-a hoodie" and "intelligently planned immigration is good for us" and "hey look I cycle to work" messages.....
It's sad but true, that in modern politics, image is pretty much half the battle won, and for all that Labour may snipe about Cameron's "content-free" policies, it's largely his image that's propelling his ascent in the polls. Gordon Brown will never be a match but perhaps a smart young Deputy might help. It doesn't have to be Milliband- just someone young, smart, articulate and media-friendly.......dare the Labour party think radical?
Meanwhile I see Ken Wiwa has joined the Nigerian government as a special assistant to the President on conflict resolution. I hope it all works out for him, that he isn't just being used to buy credibility.Plus, is he ready for the cut and thrust of Nigerian politics? I wonder what his uncle Owen who was long involved in the Ogoni struggle (before fleeing into exile in Canada) thinks.
I'm instinctively distrustful of Blairites, as I am of most ideologues and yet there's something about the idea that's attractive. Labour needs someone young and fresh if they are to counter Cameron with his "hug-a hoodie" and "intelligently planned immigration is good for us" and "hey look I cycle to work" messages.....
It's sad but true, that in modern politics, image is pretty much half the battle won, and for all that Labour may snipe about Cameron's "content-free" policies, it's largely his image that's propelling his ascent in the polls. Gordon Brown will never be a match but perhaps a smart young Deputy might help. It doesn't have to be Milliband- just someone young, smart, articulate and media-friendly.......dare the Labour party think radical?
Meanwhile I see Ken Wiwa has joined the Nigerian government as a special assistant to the President on conflict resolution. I hope it all works out for him, that he isn't just being used to buy credibility.Plus, is he ready for the cut and thrust of Nigerian politics? I wonder what his uncle Owen who was long involved in the Ogoni struggle (before fleeing into exile in Canada) thinks.
Addicted to news
As a child in what was then affluent Nigeria, my parents subscribed to various foreign magazines from TIME magazine and Newsweek to Africa and West Africa. And so every Monday morning, the newspaper vendor who came by on his motorcycle would bring that week's edition of these magazines as well as a raft of local newspapers and magazines.
Looking back now I realize that in that vendor and our relationship can be traced the story of the Nigerian economy. For from him zooming round on his motorcycle, he stepped down over the years as the economy deteriorated- first to a bicycle and then -to peddling his wares on foot. Similarly we stopped buying the foreign magazines and then reduced our order of local magazines and then stopped having him deliver, only going to the stand where he had ended up, and buying when there was something particularly newsworthy. Otherwise, as a member of the Free Readers' Club (the jocular name given to those that could not afford to buy but who would hover around newsstands browsing and copping a free read), I would hover around and browse....until one day, even free reading was banned and Vendor (as we called him) brought in a new rule......even to browse, you had to pay a fee.....
Why I am remembering this just now, I'm not sure, but it only serves to remind me how precious my 24/7 access to BBC and Nigeriaworld and all the other news outlets is, or should be.....
Looking back now I realize that in that vendor and our relationship can be traced the story of the Nigerian economy. For from him zooming round on his motorcycle, he stepped down over the years as the economy deteriorated- first to a bicycle and then -to peddling his wares on foot. Similarly we stopped buying the foreign magazines and then reduced our order of local magazines and then stopped having him deliver, only going to the stand where he had ended up, and buying when there was something particularly newsworthy. Otherwise, as a member of the Free Readers' Club (the jocular name given to those that could not afford to buy but who would hover around newsstands browsing and copping a free read), I would hover around and browse....until one day, even free reading was banned and Vendor (as we called him) brought in a new rule......even to browse, you had to pay a fee.....
Why I am remembering this just now, I'm not sure, but it only serves to remind me how precious my 24/7 access to BBC and Nigeriaworld and all the other news outlets is, or should be.....
Meeting Ken, a bit of NY in London, Italia,enjoying Emer McCourt and a rash ban
A funny old weekend. At the RISE anti-racism festival in Finsbury Park, organized by the Mayor of London I bumped into the man himself getting orange juice for his two delightful kids, who seemed to be having the time of their lives. It's funny how people look larger than life in the media, Ken Livingstone always comes across as this dapper, vibrant, powerful figure. Yet on Saturday in his old T-shirt and jeans, slightly wearied by the sun, he just looked like another middle-aged father frazzled by his toddler children.......The festival was fun and a great day out, and coming so soon after July 7, there was no better time to celebrate the theme : London United.......
During the week, walking down Cheapside near St Paul's in the City, as the traffic poured down the street, I suddenly spotted a yellow New York cab making its way down the street. Then a second and a third. I'm not sure what it was about, but it made me (and a couple of other bystanders I suspect) execute a double take. You know the kind of feeling where you're thinking "Am I dreaming or is it real? Where am I? New York or London?" Someone thought it might be in solidarity with London over the anniversary of the 7th of July bombings.....
Then last night, the World Cup finals which I watched in a local pub- I shouted myself hoarse with the bubbly Italians that seemed to swarm all over London in their blue Azzuri shirts and the red-white -green tricolore. I wondered if there were any French living in London at all. There was one lone voice in the pub who occasionally chipped in with a brave "Allez le bleues", but he was no match for the Italian contingent who sang, danced and were generally as over the top as all the stereotypes- witness the carryings-on by the team themselves when they went up to receive the cup. I was supporting Italy for two reasons- first because of their dazzling performance in the semi-final against Germany and second because I was incensed to read that some French people were not supporting Les Bleues because they were not white enough......with that I thought, if you can't all get behind the team, then you really do not deserve to win. I did feel for the individual French players though, who played with passion. Particularly Zidane and his moment of madness and Thuram who cried like a baby when they lost and Henry stoic in defeat......Now that the World Cup and Wimbledon are both over, what will occupy our minds and conversations, at work, on the train and in the pubs?
I just finished Emer McCourt's debut novel Elvis, Jesus and Me, about two siblings growing up in Northern Ireland during the Troubles. It's written in a very humorous tone and yet there are deep dark issues that she manages to explore humorously without trivializing them....
On a final note, I understand the Nigerian video censors board has banned the film The Da Vinci Code from being shown in Nigeria, which is sad and symptomatic of the closed-mindedness that seems to be sweeping across my country. A faith that cannot stand questioning, perhaps needs to be re-examined......and by banning it, the Board has only given it more prominence, painting it with the attractiveness of the forbidden
During the week, walking down Cheapside near St Paul's in the City, as the traffic poured down the street, I suddenly spotted a yellow New York cab making its way down the street. Then a second and a third. I'm not sure what it was about, but it made me (and a couple of other bystanders I suspect) execute a double take. You know the kind of feeling where you're thinking "Am I dreaming or is it real? Where am I? New York or London?" Someone thought it might be in solidarity with London over the anniversary of the 7th of July bombings.....
Then last night, the World Cup finals which I watched in a local pub- I shouted myself hoarse with the bubbly Italians that seemed to swarm all over London in their blue Azzuri shirts and the red-white -green tricolore. I wondered if there were any French living in London at all. There was one lone voice in the pub who occasionally chipped in with a brave "Allez le bleues", but he was no match for the Italian contingent who sang, danced and were generally as over the top as all the stereotypes- witness the carryings-on by the team themselves when they went up to receive the cup. I was supporting Italy for two reasons- first because of their dazzling performance in the semi-final against Germany and second because I was incensed to read that some French people were not supporting Les Bleues because they were not white enough......with that I thought, if you can't all get behind the team, then you really do not deserve to win. I did feel for the individual French players though, who played with passion. Particularly Zidane and his moment of madness and Thuram who cried like a baby when they lost and Henry stoic in defeat......Now that the World Cup and Wimbledon are both over, what will occupy our minds and conversations, at work, on the train and in the pubs?
I just finished Emer McCourt's debut novel Elvis, Jesus and Me, about two siblings growing up in Northern Ireland during the Troubles. It's written in a very humorous tone and yet there are deep dark issues that she manages to explore humorously without trivializing them....
On a final note, I understand the Nigerian video censors board has banned the film The Da Vinci Code from being shown in Nigeria, which is sad and symptomatic of the closed-mindedness that seems to be sweeping across my country. A faith that cannot stand questioning, perhaps needs to be re-examined......and by banning it, the Board has only given it more prominence, painting it with the attractiveness of the forbidden
Thursday, July 06, 2006
A controversial question, being Italian and memento mori
Sunday was hot and humid and as I dragged my weary feet through the greenery of Hyde Park, wishing that I could strip off my shorts and shirt and plunge into the cool pool of water running through a shaded cove in the park, I came upon a Middle Eastern family on a similar stroll, the boys and men all dressed in cool white tobes, the women swathed in black abayas. At the risk of provoking controversy, I couldn't help but think "Who on earth decided that women should wear black, a colour that from my early physics lessons I recall, absorbs heat in soaring temperatures?" And that men should wear cool heat-repelling white? Convention, culture, religion? It did seem rather unfair to my ignorant simplistic mind......
It's official, I'm Italian now. After the dazzling performance of Italy in their semi-final match against Germany, I can't help but join the Italian fan team. I've already blogged before about how Wole Soyinka calls the Italians the Nigerians of Europe -from the flamboyance to the garrulity to the relaxed attitude to rules exemplified on my first visit to Italy by the two carabinieri I spotted smoking right under the no smoking sign in the airport, it's obvious we share a lot in common....so come Sunday I'll be screaming Italia with the rest of them.....
John Prescott, the Deputy Prime Minister has got himself in yet another muddle. Following quickly on the revelations of an affair with his diary secretary and an unfortunate photograph of him playing croquet on the lawns of the grand mansion that was part of his perks of office, comes the revelation that he had spent a weekend at the ranch of Philip Anschutz, a US billionaire who is hoping to get planning permission to open the UK's first super casino; and that Prescott (or Two Jags as he used to be fondly known because of his two official Jaguar vehicles) had held meetings with him no less than SEVEN times in the last two years. Allegedly they had discussed their shared fondness for William Wilberforce, the abolitionist who was born in Hull, Prezza's constituency. The reaction of the Labour Government to this new scandal shows just why they do not get it. How can they not see the incongruity of someone who made much of his starting life as a ship steward becoming so seemingly dazzled by the lifestyles of the rich and famous? It is the pure arrogance of power that has dogged their every step in the recent past. Perhaps it's inevitable, having been in power as long as they have. I think the Romans had it right, when they had someone walk beside conquering generals in their victory parades, muttering in their ear "memento mori- Remember thou art mortal" Perhaps that's what Tony Blair and Obasanjo need, a constant reminder of their mortality and infallibility.
Oh, by the way I read Cloth Girl over the last two days and it's a good read- it starts off in a slightly pedestrian way but it picks up and is particularly interesting in the way it explores Ghanaian and English cultures and attitudes in the 40s and 50s.The language and style may be a trifle simple, but it's a gripping story of two women, one English and one Ghanaian in colonial Accra and how their lives become intertwined......
I finally read the Nigeria story in Tokyo Calling and it's called The Flyover and is set near Balogun market, under the bridge- I think the author captures the sense of Lagos well andI was only sad that it was so short......
Next up on my reading list- two novels by young British Asians- Gautam Malkani's Londonstani and Nirpal Singh Dhaliwal's Tourism
It's official, I'm Italian now. After the dazzling performance of Italy in their semi-final match against Germany, I can't help but join the Italian fan team. I've already blogged before about how Wole Soyinka calls the Italians the Nigerians of Europe -from the flamboyance to the garrulity to the relaxed attitude to rules exemplified on my first visit to Italy by the two carabinieri I spotted smoking right under the no smoking sign in the airport, it's obvious we share a lot in common....so come Sunday I'll be screaming Italia with the rest of them.....
John Prescott, the Deputy Prime Minister has got himself in yet another muddle. Following quickly on the revelations of an affair with his diary secretary and an unfortunate photograph of him playing croquet on the lawns of the grand mansion that was part of his perks of office, comes the revelation that he had spent a weekend at the ranch of Philip Anschutz, a US billionaire who is hoping to get planning permission to open the UK's first super casino; and that Prescott (or Two Jags as he used to be fondly known because of his two official Jaguar vehicles) had held meetings with him no less than SEVEN times in the last two years. Allegedly they had discussed their shared fondness for William Wilberforce, the abolitionist who was born in Hull, Prezza's constituency. The reaction of the Labour Government to this new scandal shows just why they do not get it. How can they not see the incongruity of someone who made much of his starting life as a ship steward becoming so seemingly dazzled by the lifestyles of the rich and famous? It is the pure arrogance of power that has dogged their every step in the recent past. Perhaps it's inevitable, having been in power as long as they have. I think the Romans had it right, when they had someone walk beside conquering generals in their victory parades, muttering in their ear "memento mori- Remember thou art mortal" Perhaps that's what Tony Blair and Obasanjo need, a constant reminder of their mortality and infallibility.
Oh, by the way I read Cloth Girl over the last two days and it's a good read- it starts off in a slightly pedestrian way but it picks up and is particularly interesting in the way it explores Ghanaian and English cultures and attitudes in the 40s and 50s.The language and style may be a trifle simple, but it's a gripping story of two women, one English and one Ghanaian in colonial Accra and how their lives become intertwined......
I finally read the Nigeria story in Tokyo Calling and it's called The Flyover and is set near Balogun market, under the bridge- I think the author captures the sense of Lagos well andI was only sad that it was so short......
Next up on my reading list- two novels by young British Asians- Gautam Malkani's Londonstani and Nirpal Singh Dhaliwal's Tourism
Monday, July 03, 2006
Heartbroken over England's loss,trying to make sense from rumour & a saddening assault on free speech
Who would have thought that after my last post that I would be so upset by England losing to Portugal? But there was something about the heart with which they played with ten men against eleven that won me completely over. Aaron Lennon and Crouch were both playing with all their hearts and you couldn't but wish them well. Every minute from the 62nd when Rooney got sent off was a cliffhanging, lip-chewing one....and when it all ended in tears, I found myself with a lump in my throat as well....It was such a shame that Rooney fell victim to the provocation, but then when all's said and done, he is ONLY a 20 year old....I'm sure there'll be lessons for him in this. To add insult to my English friends' injury, France won THEIR match, going on to the semifinals. At the end of the England Portugal match, my friends had said, "Now we're supporting anyone but France"....Oh I said "Do you dislike the French more than the Germans then?" "Of course" they all spat with one voice, leaving me yet again bewildered by the hierarchical nature of these intra-European rivalries.....
Had friends visiting from Nigeria over the weekend with disparate rumours about why Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala was moved from Finance. One school of thought was that it was to clear the path for building up a war chest for the 2007 elections. The other (less complimentary) was that it had to do with the brouhaha over commissions for the debt buy back. I've come up with my own theory- a middle ground combining both: in order to build war chest, commissions brouhaha is waved in the air to secure acquiescence...or perhaps there is no shred of truth in it all.....
Freedom of speech is under threat both in Nigeria and the UK. In the UK, Steven Jago was arrested under the Serious and Organized Crimes Act for carryinga placard and copies of a Vanity Fair article entitled Blair's Big Brother Britain outside Parliament. News of this led me to go out and buy Vanity Fair so I could read the offending article by Henry Porter, a columnist in The Guardian. I must say the picture he paints is quite scary, but what is even scarier is the deafening silence from the press and members of the public. Why on earth should demonstrations be banned within one kilometre of Parliament- a radius that very conveniently includes 10 Downing Street? Security measures are already in place and tourists are free to mill about so it cannot be about that. Or perhaps the police are worried about spontaneously combusting placards? The mind boggles......
Taking a leaf from our erstwhile colonial masters, the Nigerian State Security Service arrested journalists who questioned the safety and security of the newly acquired presidential aircraft were arrested and charged with sedition.
Since Tony Blair recently put in a proposal for a new executive plane, perhaps he'll be taking a leaf from his good friend Obasanjo if any dare criticize the move......
Had friends visiting from Nigeria over the weekend with disparate rumours about why Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala was moved from Finance. One school of thought was that it was to clear the path for building up a war chest for the 2007 elections. The other (less complimentary) was that it had to do with the brouhaha over commissions for the debt buy back. I've come up with my own theory- a middle ground combining both: in order to build war chest, commissions brouhaha is waved in the air to secure acquiescence...or perhaps there is no shred of truth in it all.....
Freedom of speech is under threat both in Nigeria and the UK. In the UK, Steven Jago was arrested under the Serious and Organized Crimes Act for carryinga placard and copies of a Vanity Fair article entitled Blair's Big Brother Britain outside Parliament. News of this led me to go out and buy Vanity Fair so I could read the offending article by Henry Porter, a columnist in The Guardian. I must say the picture he paints is quite scary, but what is even scarier is the deafening silence from the press and members of the public. Why on earth should demonstrations be banned within one kilometre of Parliament- a radius that very conveniently includes 10 Downing Street? Security measures are already in place and tourists are free to mill about so it cannot be about that. Or perhaps the police are worried about spontaneously combusting placards? The mind boggles......
Taking a leaf from our erstwhile colonial masters, the Nigerian State Security Service arrested journalists who questioned the safety and security of the newly acquired presidential aircraft were arrested and charged with sedition.
Since Tony Blair recently put in a proposal for a new executive plane, perhaps he'll be taking a leaf from his good friend Obasanjo if any dare criticize the move......
Saturday, July 01, 2006
Disarming honesty, books to look forward to and echoes of 7th July
At the train station last week, I was in a hurry and so rushed to use the newly installed machines thinking I could avoid the queues that way. Precious minutes after, the silly machine spewed out my credit card with a signal saying "Sorry this transaction cannot be completed at the moment"....gritting my teeth I went to join the now even longer queue, certain that I'd missed my train. Sure enough I had and so I complained to the gentleman behind the counter. In a burst of extraordinary frankness he confided that the machines weren't always very good at processing transactions, and that he hoped that this state of affairs would continue because he would be out of a job when the machines started to work promptly and efficiently. Honest as he was I did wonder if it was wise saying this to a stranger, after all for all he knew I could have been a manager in the train company......
Browsing in Daunt's, a lovely oak panelled independent bookshop I stumbled across recently, I noted a number of new books which will surely keep me busy in the weeks ahead.The great thing about Daunt is that their books are arranged in geographical sections, so going to the USA section, you can find anything from the latest biography of Condi Rice to Philip Roth's latest novel, to a California travel guide.
In the Africa section, I saw Aminatta Forna's novel- Ancestor Stones. Having enjoyed her The Devil that Danced on the Water, a memoir of her father, one of Sierra Leone's leading early politicians, I'm looking forward to seeing her turn her gracefully eloquent hand to fiction. Also catching my attention was The Cloth Girl, set in mid forties Ghana, written by Marilyn Heward Mills who's half Ghanaian and half Swiss. It's not often we find contemporary books set in that era so am looking forward to it as well. Monica Ali's second novel Alentejo Blue which hasn't received great reviews, also caught my eye but I'm sure that after the runaway success of Brick Lane, anything that she produced subsequently would struggle with the critics......Finally Marie Fatayi-Williams who eloquently and courageously summed up the grief of many the day after her son Anthony was killed in the July 7 bombings has written a book explaining how she got through those dark days. Proceeds will go the Foundation set up in her son's memory. Anthony son of a Muslim father and a Roman Catholic mother, scion of English and Nigerian heritage was a potent symbol of the senseless killings of last year......
Disappointingly while the Nigerian section in Daunt had the Bradt travel guide and a few Chinua Achebe novels, there was no Soyinka, not to talk of Adichie, Atta, Abani, Afolabi, Habila. It made the shelf look a bit sparse which is such an unfair representation. Which maddens me- because let's imagine a book lover strolls over to Daunt's and thinks "Hmmm I'd like to read something Nigerian" and then saw the sparse offering they'd think nothing much was happening in Nigerian literature. Which of course is patently untrue. So when even an alternative, off the beaten track bookshop still struggles to stock popular, prize winning books by Nigerian and African writers, how are they supposed to make a name for themselves?
At the moment I'm reading and enjoying Rana Dasgupta's Tokyo Cancelled, a sort of contemporary rendering of The Canterbury Tales- several travellers are stranded at an airport when their flight to Tokyo is cancelled and they end up passing the time telling stories, there is a surreal, medieval quality to the tales which is compelling. I'm looking forward to the story set in Lagos.....
Our five days of summer are here and as I prepare to go and watch England play Portugal I wonder if the English will end up stumbling their way to the World Cup. Watching Brazil is sheer poetry, the fluidity of movement, the balletic passes, England always ends up getting there, but with only the occasional flash of brilliance. In any case I'll be flying my St George flag, got free with my evening newspaper yesterday..... I noticed the vendor hesitate before offering it to me, perhaps he wondered if I'd find it offensive- I didn't.....
Yesterday, half the London underground was closed suddenly at rush hour and as I tried to make sense of the conflicting reasons the staff gave, I hoped and prayed it was nothing more sinister.....
Browsing in Daunt's, a lovely oak panelled independent bookshop I stumbled across recently, I noted a number of new books which will surely keep me busy in the weeks ahead.The great thing about Daunt is that their books are arranged in geographical sections, so going to the USA section, you can find anything from the latest biography of Condi Rice to Philip Roth's latest novel, to a California travel guide.
In the Africa section, I saw Aminatta Forna's novel- Ancestor Stones. Having enjoyed her The Devil that Danced on the Water, a memoir of her father, one of Sierra Leone's leading early politicians, I'm looking forward to seeing her turn her gracefully eloquent hand to fiction. Also catching my attention was The Cloth Girl, set in mid forties Ghana, written by Marilyn Heward Mills who's half Ghanaian and half Swiss. It's not often we find contemporary books set in that era so am looking forward to it as well. Monica Ali's second novel Alentejo Blue which hasn't received great reviews, also caught my eye but I'm sure that after the runaway success of Brick Lane, anything that she produced subsequently would struggle with the critics......Finally Marie Fatayi-Williams who eloquently and courageously summed up the grief of many the day after her son Anthony was killed in the July 7 bombings has written a book explaining how she got through those dark days. Proceeds will go the Foundation set up in her son's memory. Anthony son of a Muslim father and a Roman Catholic mother, scion of English and Nigerian heritage was a potent symbol of the senseless killings of last year......
Disappointingly while the Nigerian section in Daunt had the Bradt travel guide and a few Chinua Achebe novels, there was no Soyinka, not to talk of Adichie, Atta, Abani, Afolabi, Habila. It made the shelf look a bit sparse which is such an unfair representation. Which maddens me- because let's imagine a book lover strolls over to Daunt's and thinks "Hmmm I'd like to read something Nigerian" and then saw the sparse offering they'd think nothing much was happening in Nigerian literature. Which of course is patently untrue. So when even an alternative, off the beaten track bookshop still struggles to stock popular, prize winning books by Nigerian and African writers, how are they supposed to make a name for themselves?
At the moment I'm reading and enjoying Rana Dasgupta's Tokyo Cancelled, a sort of contemporary rendering of The Canterbury Tales- several travellers are stranded at an airport when their flight to Tokyo is cancelled and they end up passing the time telling stories, there is a surreal, medieval quality to the tales which is compelling. I'm looking forward to the story set in Lagos.....
Our five days of summer are here and as I prepare to go and watch England play Portugal I wonder if the English will end up stumbling their way to the World Cup. Watching Brazil is sheer poetry, the fluidity of movement, the balletic passes, England always ends up getting there, but with only the occasional flash of brilliance. In any case I'll be flying my St George flag, got free with my evening newspaper yesterday..... I noticed the vendor hesitate before offering it to me, perhaps he wondered if I'd find it offensive- I didn't.....
Yesterday, half the London underground was closed suddenly at rush hour and as I tried to make sense of the conflicting reasons the staff gave, I hoped and prayed it was nothing more sinister.....
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