aFRica

You know, I think one of the reasons why
the Western cultures appear to be
dominating is because they have made
what they have assimilable by
everybody. But when you come to Africa,
the Igbo culture belongs to Igbo people
and nobody else can ever have it. If you
try to take it, they say, ―No, you‘re not
Igbo indigenously‖. But the English
culture now belongs to the whole world
and that is why it‘s conquering the world
because it‘s opened its arms and said
anybody can be English. I don‘t see
anything wrong in saying everybody can
be Igbo or Yoruba because culture is
learned - it‘s not attached to your DNA. I
think people should be free to borrow
from any culture they see anything
positive in.
AU: Let‘s go back to names. Literal and
figurative meanings aside, they
sometimes come with certain
associations. Take your last name for
instance. When people hear the name,
Chukwumerije, they think: Biafra,
Nigerian politics, Olympic medalist, and
of course National Poetry Slam champion.
How does it feel to bear such a heavy
name?
DC: This is a difficult thing to talk about
because in Nigeria, to have a well-known
name is to have many negative
stereotypes immediately associated with
you. People often think, ―You are the son
of a ‗big man‘ and so you are an
irresponsible person‖ or ―Everything you
have, it‘s because of who your father is‖.
Sometimes, you never know if people
actually see you for who you are or as
access to that other person; if they are
genuinely making friends with you or if
they see you as a means to an end for
themselves.
My dad has been part of the Nigerian
political landscape for a long time, before
I was even born. Some people hate him,
some love him, some are suspicious of
him and all of that immediately comes to
you because you bear that name, and
growing up, you learn to deal with all of
that. But luckily, we had a very normal
childhood and we grew up just like any
other [Nigerian] kid because our parents
went out of their way to make sure that
we had no sense of grandeur or
entitlement. It is a heavy name, yeah,
and obviously because it is such a high
profile name, you have to be careful
about what you do so you don‘t end up
in the headlines – the Senator‘s son said
this or the Olympian‘s brother did that -
but that has never been a problem for
me. At the end of the day, it is my name
just like your name is your name.
AU: You‘re obviously comfortable with
your name but did you ever, maybe at
the start of your writing career, want to
change it?
DC: I did think about writing under a
pseudonym so that I could be freer, if you
like, to say controversial things and get
away with it. But then, it‘s my name and I
said to myself, why should I change my
name? Whatever has gone on in the past,
it‘s not my fault. Whoever I‘m associated
with, I did not choose it. This is what I
was born with, for good or bad,
advantages or disadvantages. And then,
I‘m also interested in continuing my
family‘s legacy because we have done a
couple of positive things and I‘m
interested in having the name built up. In
my own opinion the way to preserve a
legacy is to add to it so if I stay where I
am and I succeed in what I‘m doing, it
will only enhance the name. It doesn‘t
just belong to my dad or my brother; it‘s
also my name.
AU: We have established that you are a
Pan-Africanist but this book, Ahamefula,
Saraba | Issue 13 | Africa 45