Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart is a transgenerational masterpiece for more than one reason. Some of the obvious reasons are: it’s sold between 15 and 20 million copies, and it’s been translated into over 60 global languages. If these stats are true, then you can trust that so many people all over the world are in love with that book. For foreigners, it would be its masterful exposé of Africa (Igbo); for those of us it projected, the Igbos, Okonkwo’s kith and kin, it fuels our ego to know that the rest of the world are in love with our ways as projected by our very own son.

But Things Fall Apart is a great piece for more than the preceding reasons. It is particularly great for the many lessons and nuggets of wisdom it embodies. The proverbs, for instance. In line with the Igbo-way, Achebe liberally sprinkles the pages his opus magnum with lots and lots of them, and goes on to call them by their traditional proper name: the oil with which words are eaten. Again, Things Fall Apart typifies what a great piece of literature should look like: simple and beautiful. Achebe says big things in sophisticatedly simple ways, and gives them all the coloration with the various and varied literary devices they need to stand out as chic. For instance, Achebe makes allusion to “those days when men were men.” And when he would describe the wrestling contest between Okonkwo and Amalinze the Cat, one would already begin to feel like watching it real-life. “The drums beat and the flutes sang and the spectators held their breath. Amalinze was a wily craftsman, but Okonkwo was as slippery as a fish in water. Every nerve and every muscle stood out on their arms, on their backs and their thighs, and one almost heard them stretching to breaking point. In the end Okonkwo threw the Cat.” Can you feel those lines? Even the cat metaphor used for Amalinze is something!

The part of Things Fall Apart that particularly concerns this particular blog post is a peculiar lesson Achebe leaves us all, those of us that play mentorship. To qualify them as words of wisdom, Achebe puts them in the mouth of the oldest man in Okonkwo’s quarter of Umuofia, Ogbuefi Ezeudu. Needless to say that age is wisdom for the African, especially the Igbo. And so, these immortal words fell from the golden mouth of Ogbuefi Ezeudu to the deaf ears of Okonkwo: “That boy calls you father. Do not bear a hand in his death.” It’s going to be a very long story putting those words in context for those who haven’t read Achebe’s Things Fall Apart. Pardon me that I won’t retell the story; Achebe already did. Read Things Fall Apart for yourself. However, the long and short of it is that “the ransom Ikemefuna” had grown up to know and call Okonkwo father, and the Oracle of the Hills and the Caves had just decreed that he be killed. Since Okonkwo was one of the elders that will execute that decree, Ogbuefi Ezeudu advises him to, while being present at the event, refrain from bearing a hand in the very act of killing Ikemefuna – because he calls him FATHER.

But Okonkwo wouldn’t listen. And like Brutus of the Shakespearean Julius Caesar, it was him who struck the blow that saw Ikemefuna dead. This was exactly what happened:  “He [Okonkwo] heard Ikemefuna cry, “My father, they have killed me!” as he ran towards him. Dazed with fear, Okonkwo drew his machete and cut him down. He was afraid of being thought weak.” Commentators have it that Okonkwo’s defiance to those prophetic words of Ogbuefi Ezeudu was the very foundation for his own ‘things fall apart’; everything dramatically turned against him, and he even ended up in the worst of ways – suicide.

In essence, and my point is: To play father figure to anyone is no mean business; it is big business. When the Catholic Church chose that word for their pastors, they knew the deal they were cutting, and woe betide those “Fathers” that are oblivious of this deal their forebears cut on their behalf. Just for the reason of being called “Father,” the wise Ezeudu knew that Okonkwo was disqualified from bearing a hand in Ikemefuna’s death – inasmuch as he couldn’t stop it. Even the Greatest Man that ever lived – Jesus Christ – had something to say to this effect: “He deserves to have a millstone tied around his neck and then thrown into the sea.” What a fate!

The variant of “Father” most of us can identify with is “Mentor.” They mean the same thing. Someone walks up to you and requests that you guide them through one, more or all aspects of life. Mentorship is the word. I like to announce to you that you’ve just got some responsibility laid on your shoulders and there is no need popping champagne about it. This responsibility leans against the backdrop that the words of George Orwell through his Animal Farm’s Boxer character would always dominate the heart and mind of the mentee: “If Comrade Napoleon says it is, it must be right.” What if the mentor was wrong after all, and had deliberately chosen to mislead the mentee to his/her own advantage? You see why a millstone should be tied to their neck…

In the name of mentorship a lot have gone wrong. And your guess is as good as mine. This must not apply to us. In essence, whoever dares to call us father should be given life not death; should be guided aright not taken advantage of. This is extremely important, for it can turn our fate around – for good or bad.

Ask Okonkwo.

I once heard Nigerian Bishop David Oyedepo say he doesn’t read the dailies; he almost never does! Truth be told, his claim got me thinking, especially as to whether it is possible, and, also, as to whether it is patriotic. While still brooding over Oyedepo’s claim, a certain great motivator, one I respect too much, Robin Sharma, the legendary author of the breathtaking The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari, advised: sell your television. With this witness of two truly great men, the minimum number required for authentic witnessing, I just knew that something must be fundamentally problematic about the mass media.

But I should have known better, earlier. One fine thing studying philosophy at UNN did for me was that it got me into taking a bit of many different courses in the social sciences, arts, general studies, physical sciences… Yes, I did one or more courses with Foreign Languages, Economics, Sociology, Psychology, Religion, Computer Science departments and General Studies Unit. I particularly did four (4) courses with the Department of Mass Communication: Theories of Mass Communication, Principles of Advertising, Features and Interpretative Writing, and Editorial Writing. Of course, I’m not drawing up this list of courses to impress, but to say I got an appreciable insight into what happens on the mass media, and it is this: Bad news is business; good news is no news at all.

In Principles of Advertising, for instance, my professor taught me that it’s all about playing on the gullibility and sensibility of the people. Else, what’s the big deal about signing P-Square and other top-rate Nigerian artists and actors as Globacom ambassadors? Aside cowing their fans into taking Glo offers seriously, what else do they bring to the table? Nothing, actually. You see, that’s the game. Ms Ohaja of Features and Interpretative Writing and Dr. Ukonu of Editorial Writing both agree, and taught me, that it is all about the title/heading and a compelling lead. In their very own words, “Make it catchy.” And catchy is to catch, isn’t it? Let me already say that this is one reason why news shouldn’t be taken seriously. An example will do in this regard. This once ran on Vanguard: “Why I hate Okocha – Oliseh.” Truth be told, they caught me there; I was dead curious about why Oliseh should hate my dear Jay-Jay. And guess what I gathered from my anxious read? “He always beats me in our tennis play at Sheraton.”

On CNN, AIT, NTA, Al Jazeera, BBC, NBC, Vanguard, Punch, Sun, Times, and every other mass media outfit you can remember, the story is no different. It is the business of bad news. And truth is that they get handsomely rewarded for it; their profit statement is unbelievable. They specialize in covering accidents, conflict, civil unrest, political instability, war zone, celebrity gossips, etc. These are all junks for God’s sake, and the least thing any serious human being needs to get a great day up and running. With their Agenda Setting power, they cow us into thinking and talking about what they want us to talk about. A good example will do. When the Chibok girls got missing, the media made it all about #BringBackOurGirls. After over a year now, no single media house, including CNN, remembers that our girls have not been brought back. What about Boko Haram? Are we done with them? No. But they long stopped making the kind of headlines they use to make.

Now, it is important we diagnose the problem, and then attempt saying a possible way out.

There is simply this part of us that craves bad news, which serve to confirm our fears of a troubled world. When a plane goes missing or a car crashes, we just want to know when, where and how. Not so much about doing something about it, but about both the joy of knowing and the reminder that “earth is bad.” And what does that leave us with? Nothing, I suppose. Again, there is this way we want to catch up with the joneses through being in touch with the latest happenstances around the globe; how we don’t want to be left behind. Perhaps that’s why we see a thousand and one fellas at the news stand every morning whiling away their time.

I must immediately save my head. Being in the know of happenstances around town is right and just; our safety even depends on it. However, I’m vehemently against our obsession about it. In fact, who says you must read today’s papers today?

This is one way forward. Realize that they’re two classes of people in this regard and choose where you belong: those that make headlines and those that read headlines. You choose. To make headlines, then you’ve to be caught dead diehard busy. To read headlines, then just walk up to the nearest newsstand and invest some good deal of your time reading, commenting and complimenting.

Finally, aside weather reports and business news, as to whether to go out with an umbrella or not or whether to put a call across to your stockbroker, there is really next to no item of news on any mass media platform that is worth the mad rush. You could even read the weather yourself and ask your stockbroker to alert you whenever a fair deal pops up. In all, while the mass media busy about their business of bad news, why not face your own business.

Until I went over to boarding school for some realtime chiseling, I was a perfect example of mummy’s pet. Aside being her child, I was her last son, and I’m now learning that mothers are particularly into their last sons – having a younger sister, mum’s last child, didn’t reduce my preferential treatment one bit. It was so bad that mum only says ‘no’ when she couldn’t afford my request. I remember her going such extra miles like: buying the food of my taste when she’s got some food in the house; turning her last dime over to me because I needed to buy this or that. It was that bad.

However, it wasn’t really that bad. This same woman, my mother, did something that forever remains vivid on my mind. Yes, it is so vivid that I can still see the very faces of those that saved the day. On that fateful day, mum left me a simple and straightforward instruction: stay here watching over this stuff while I go over to the market with Nne (my younger sister) to get something. No sooner had she reached the market than she saw her dear son playfully following from behind. Unfortunately for me, I had an interesting cane in my hand with which I played. And that was it for me! As soon as I got close enough to her, she made for the cane in my hand and gave me that sort of beating I still vividly recall after more than 15 years. It took the intervention of really determined market women to get her to stop. Interestingly, I deserved every bit of that beating as the damage she foresaw happened back home while I was away.

I still wonder how she was able to do that; how she could beat me so mercilessly that the fear of my passing out or away didn’t cross her mind; how my ‘saviours’ almost couldn’t contain her rage. I got the answer to those puzzles in my recent visit to Lagos (I’m back to base already); someone shared the theme of ‘Tough Love’ with me. His name: Base One.

On one of my days in Lagos, I took a trip to Wazobia TV, located on 267A Etim Nyang Crescent, Victoria Island, to see Ezeugwu Chukwudi, the anchorman of the highly informative and rib-cracking As E Dey Hot. Kamikaze, as we fondly called him back in the UNN days, was Sammie’s best friend and always came around our place, and I’ve always known him to be amazing. And so I went to see him. But I had to wait for him since he was held hostage in the notorious Lagos traffic situation; it really proved to be a worthwhile wait. It was during this wait that I met Base One, a member of staff there.

The long and short of it all is that I got talking with Base One and somehow our discussion got us into the theme of love. Lest I forget, we were led into that theme by a colleague of his who expressed surprise at how the gentle Base One lashed at someone the previous day or so. Tough love he called it. Tough love is that point where you’re not so much carried away by the love you’ve for someone that you can’t insist that he/she gets certain things right. That point where my mother demonstrated to me that although she could give me as much as her ‘last card’, that does not give me the temerity to flaunt her orders; to be irresponsible, to put it lightly.

Methinks we all need elements of tough love in our various and varied relationships. It is in the very essence of love to want not just the best but the very best for the other, but we must come to grasp with the fact that it is only ‘tough love’ that can secure the very best for our lovers. Yes, it is our job to get them to be realistic, to push them to go the extra mile, to demand that they be the best of who they are, to insist that they meet minimum standards at least in the different ramifications of life…

Of course, ‘tough love’ goes with an expensive price tag. Sometimes it could even cost us the relationship itself. In this regard, Bishop T.D. Jakes instructs that our destiny is not tied to those that left; just let them go. And whoever is too blind to see that finest love is ‘tough love’, that one should probably be shown the ‘red card’.

“What would life have been to us had Christ not risen from the dead?” This question is particularly important to all those who hold the person of Jesus close to their heart. It is also important to those who, though do not care a thing about Jesus, are enjoying the so far society has come in terms of enlightenment and scientific advancement. Of course, when Jesus declared, “I am the light of the world,” he really meant business, and all those who keyed into his illumination got the promised “light of life.” Just one instance would do: America is today the world’s leading power for more than one reason. Have you cared to ask why every single dollar bill cannot go without the “In God We Trust” inscription? Simple: the founding fathers of America knew that God is both the author of freedom and sustainer of any sovereignty that goals to stand the test of time.

And so, needless to say that we’re all an “Alleluia people.” We owe God heartfelt praise, for drawing us out of the kingdom of darkness into the kingdom of His very own beloved son, in whom we have redemption and the forgiveness of our trespasses. Yes, Christians and non-Christians alike.

corneliusndubuisi.com says: Happy Easter!!!

Importantly, may we not cruise through today’s celebration buried in eating and drinking and making merry, and passing by some of the beautiful lessons it brings along, especially those from the women of the resurrection morning. They teach us the following:

They loved on, even after death
During the passion experience, Scriptures say that those women were around; they watched from a distance. Then Jesus died. The apostles went about their usual businesses, but early before dawn these women were already on their way to see to it that Jesus got a befitting burial; what the horrific Good Friday couldn’t let them do. Don’t even think they were anticipating the resurrection; they weren’t. In this regard, Scriptures say that until the full reality of the resurrection dawned on them, none of Jesus’ followers had come to a grasp of the resurrection prophecy.

The point is: They loved truly. They really did. And we can learn from them. That sort of love that expects nothing in return. That kind of love that just loves on…

They moved in faith
Scriptures say that the big challenge that confronted them at the mental level was this, “Who would roll away the stone for us?” This challenge didn’t deter them. They moved. And when they did move, they ended up finding that the stone had already been rolled away. Plus the message of the risen Lord.

What do we learn from them in this regard? Mental obstacles are just not enough to hold us back from moving or setting out. Just move. In faith. And the Big-Guy-up-there just has this way of rolling away the stone before we get there. Or, He has this fascinating way of making the burden light.

“Hosanna! Hosanna!!” – “Crucify him! Crucify him!!” From the same mouths came forth those opposing chants, and the interval between their utterances wasn’t long enough to warrant forgetfulness. While he rode triumphantly into Jerusalem, the assembled crowd chorused, “Hosanna to the son of David,” and when before Pilate, about the same crowed chorused all the louder, “Crucify him! Crucify him!!” To be sure they acted in good fate, Pilate had to ask them, “Do you really want me to crucify him?” Needless to say that their response showed they meant business. The same crowd that sought to seize Jesus and crown him king by force was the same crowd that didn’t mind that his innocent blood be on their head and those of their children’s children. And if you’ve ever wondered why we’re advised not to follow the crowd or even to go against it, this incidence clarifies it all. To say the least, the crowd is grossly unreliable; the crowd is ‘two-faced’.

Shakespeare knew this so well that he reproduced a similar incidence in his Julius Caesar. When he won the Romans glory they cheered him on to more victory, such that they fully concurred with Mark Antony’s bid to crown him king. Thrice Antony presented him the crown, at each of which the crowd cheered with increasing intensity, and thrice Caesar turned down the offer. Of course, the wise and seemingly ambitious Caesar knew better than rest his fate in the hands of the crowd of ancient Rome. And true to her nature, they did turn against him on the Ides of March – the day the conspirators struck. The crowd was even funnier on this occasion. Brutus’s short speech instantly turned them against Caesar, and Antony’s speech that immediately followed instantly got them back to Caesar’s side, turning them against Brutus as it were. Such is the crowd.

Let me not proceed without giving another befitting example: the story of Bartimaeus. This son of Timaeus, a blind beggar, knew Jesus could let him see again, and would call out to him as soon as he learnt he was passing by. The long and short of it all is that the same crowd that tried to shut him up was the very crowd that said to him, “Courage, come, he is calling you.” And Bartimaeus already leaves us with a great lesson on how to engage the crowd. Scriptures say that as much as they tried to shut him up, he shouted all the louder. Yes, he was insistent that his voice not be drowned by that of the crowd. And as much as he persisted, he secured Jesus’ attention and the admiration of the crowd. May this lesson guide us still.

The crowd we can most likely identify with is public opinion; what they think and say about us. And sometimes we just take them way too seriously. In this regard, we feel we’re good when they think and say we are; we feel we’re bad when they think and say we are. So, somehow we just twist ourselves into the mould the crowd designed for us. Needless to say that many students are studying this or that course because they’ve been made to believe that this or that way lies success. Marriages have been contracted on the grounds of the conventional definition of who Mr. and Miss Right ‘ought’ to be. And there is just a way many a person has ordered his/her life to suit convention, win others’ admiration and to secure the spotlight. Nice.

However, it remains noteworthy that the crowd is unreliable. Never forget this.

This is one way to get around the crowd problem: individuate yourself. Though a member of a larger community, get used to the fact that the larger community can turn against you at an instant – like they were never for you in the first place. Jesus is a case study again. The 5,000 he fed would come again for food, and they all desert him when he offers them his body and blood. And Jesus offers us a great example of individuation, too. We find this in his disposition to risk losing every one of his followers. He turns to the 12 that stayed back, asking them, “Are you not leaving too? He was way too sure of himself and his message that he didn’t have a problem staying alone.

Let me not say it all. I leave you to reflect on the crowd problem and to find your way around it…