Valentine Obienyem
Reading the “Guardian” opinion pages, I am often enthused by the columns of Dr. Reuben Abati and Dr. Okey Ikechukwu. I have taken time to commend their writing to my friends—the former for his populist appeal, the soothing effects of his rollicking satires sometimes verging on the humorous, the lusty scurrility of his style, and his uncanny ability to write on any event, however controversial and recent. The latter, I admire for the soundness of his logic and the range of his views. Ikechukwu is never satisfied with mere expression; he strives to give his ideas form and beauty. Even when he is romantic in feeling, he struggles to be objective in thought. Reading him, you might mistake him for an octogenarian writing in the “mellow metaphysics” of old age. Both writers are thoughtful, insightful, mature, and analytical.
However, the article written by Reuben in “The Guardian” on Sunday, 15th November 1998, titled “Let Them Eat Kolanut,” lacked his characteristic thoughtfulness and insight. Reuben wrote about some aspects of Igbo culture, using the antics of Princess Edith Ike Mark-Odu as a case in point. The princess, by means of shock tactics, aimed—rightly or wrongly—to rudely awaken the Igbo people to denounce certain traditions she found repugnant to “natural justice, equity, and good conscience,” and to embrace civilization. To achieve her aim, the princess acted brashly at two events organized recently in Lagos by the Igbo community.
The first event was during the celebration of the New Yam Festival organized by a Lagos-based Igbo cultural group. During the celebration—let Reuben complete the tale—”Edith Mark-Odu simply seized the initiative. She grabbed a knife, and before the men knew what was happening, she had taken a slice of that first yam.”
On another occasion, at an essentially Igbo gathering, Princess Mark-Odu attended as a special guest. After the breaking of the kolanut, she “declared that she must be given kolanut to eat, otherwise she would leave in protest.” She was ignored, and consequently, “she rose to her feet and walked out, visibly angry.”
Armed with these two incidents, Reuben supplemented his knowledge of Igbo culture by consulting his Igbo friends. They must have shocked him all the more by revealing that whenever an animal is slaughtered, the gizzard is men’s exclusive preserve. Finding no justification for these traditions, which in Reuben’s thinking could not possibly be in their pristine condition, he sympathized with Edith’s position. He went ahead and adduced several reasons why such traditions, and others that are “repugnant” to equity, should be abrogated.
I quite agree with Reuben that certain aspects of our tradition, as with other peoples’ traditions, may need to be modified or abrogated. But to go ahead and pronounce judgment on particular Igbo traditions just because Edith chose to become an actor, or because of a few minutes of discussion with his Igbo friends, whose knowledge of our traditions is not even guaranteed, should worry all Igbo sons. Let us, perhaps, use this medium to lecture Reuben on tradition, as a little anthropology—as he displayed in his writing—is a dangerous thing.
Dr. Reuben, each culture or tradition has its peculiar system of etiquette. What is acceptable and considered proper in one culture may differ in another, or even be considered immoral. To the Orientals, it is proper for people to take off their shoes before entering a house, but among the Occidentals, guests would be considered impolite if they removed their shoes.
Anacharsis put it beautifully among the Greeks: “If one were to bring together all customs considered sacred by some group, and then take away all customs considered immoral by some group, nothing would remain.” Anacharsis was conscious of the relativity of customs. We must not conclude that customs and traditions are worthless because they differ according to time and place, and it would be unwise to show our historic learning by at once discarding the traditions of our group or those of others.
This relativity of custom should instead show us the varied ways in which social order has been preserved. Social order is nonetheless necessary; the game must still have rules in order to be played. Men must know what to expect of one another in the ordinary circumstances of life. Hence, the unanimity with which the members of a society hold its cultural heritage is quite as important to them as the content of that culture.
Whenever this culture is rejected and/or attacked due to lack of understanding, the people concerned usually feel injured. Most of these rejections or attacks, as in the case of Reuben, betray the immaturity of our cultural minds. I am sure that with a proper understanding, Reuben will begin to realize that there may be more wisdom in the cultural heritage of a group—the formulated experience of generations of a race. His lack of understanding was visible in his write-up.
It is due to this lack of understanding that he misrepresented the true Igbo position in our tradition, which he tried to vilify. It is true that among the Igbos, the titled or eldest man is the one who breaks the kolanut or eats the new yam first. It is equally true that among Christians, it is an ordained priest who presides at Mass and receives Holy Communion first. But to say that these traditions extend the kola, new yam, or Holy Communion to women at their discretion is wrong. The fact is that after the initial partaking, the rest is shared with others, including women, as of right.
Decorum is essential in any traditional or liturgical celebration, just as protocol is to governments. Reuben should know better. These are the reasons why I wonder at Reuben’s support of Princess Edith Mark-Odu’s unruly acts. Any careful analyst should be able to see that the princess is not sincere in her campaign against the discrimination of women. I see her as either in search of publicity or severely misguided.
If the princess sincerely wants women to be liberated from alleged male domination, are there no better ways of achieving that? What Professor Jadesola Akande is doing is instructive. According to Reuben, the professor has since “formed a political movement to promote women’s interests in the ongoing political transition program”—certainly a more honorable way to fight perceived marginalization.
If Princess Mark-Odu is sincere in her liberation movement, what has she done to stop other Igbo traditions that are truly worth stopping? The “Osu system” comes to mind. Here is a tradition detested by all Igbos, where a group of people are treated as slaves in the name of tradition. The so-called “free-born” are not allowed to marry from among the “Osus.” If, in one defiant move, Mark-Odu had allowed herself to be married to an “Osu”. we would have applauded her as a rebel with a purpose. But she takes delight in attacking a tradition that is harmless, rich, and attractive.
I keep asking myself why this woman is hostile to the exclusion of women in certain rites such as the breaking of kolanut and eating of the new yam. As far as I know, there are other traditions in which women are excluded. In Igboland, women do not take part in the digging of graves, yet Edith has not complained, nor has she, in one of her deft moves, wrested a digger from any man and started digging out of annoyance.
Has that woman ever rejected the waist part of slaughtered animals, which is much larger than the gizzard and traditionally meant for women only? Has she ever climbed a palm tree, kolanut tree, or any other tree in protest of the tradition that forbids women from climbing?
Perhaps one day, in disobedience to tradition, Edith should don a mask and speak in a weird, guttural voice as a revolt against the monopolization of the masquerade cult by men. I expect her to put on boxing gloves someday and challenge a Tyson to a duel in the spirit of equality.
By Christmas, Edith should be ready to question her kindred as to why they do not allow women to attend “Umunna” meetings, and why men do not attend “Umuada” meetings as equal partners in creation. Thereafter, she should question her husband or father as to why he alone should receive visitors and pour libation to their ancestors.
Having come this far, she should assert her humanity by taking the highest Ozo title available in her town, becoming a queen or king, and celebrating the yearly kingly Ofala festival. In this position, she should have taken the headship of her household from her husband, even as he struggles to balance between patriarchy and matriarchy.
For those who care to listen, Edith’s actions are not edifying in any respect. They should merely teach us to be circumspect in whatever we do—people should be careful about the brand of equality they seek between men and women. I do not deny the equality of both sexes in their persons, but I recognize that there is also a proportional equality created by the differences in both sexes’ psycho-physical natures.
Thus, each sex should strive to perform the roles suited to its own nature. Equality can never be similarity, and equality is meaningful when it is among equals in both mental and physical attributes.
It is high time we acknowledged that there are many positive aspects of our traditions that not all our laws, recklessness, misinterpretations, education, prejudices, and religions can stamp out. Some of our traditions have a certain survival value. As we enter the next millennium, we need neither Edith Mark-Odu nor Dr. Reuben to tell us which traditions to carry forward and which to leave behind.
Obienyem is of the Faculty of Law, Lagos State University.