Sunday, 19 May 2013
Soyinka's Poem On Racism
Happy Birthday Prof. Wole Soyinka: In celebration of your wit and literary mischief, I am hereby reproducing, what I personally regard as your best poem, "Telephone conversation".
I read this poem in school, but it was only when I arrived the UK that its naked facts and mischievous truth on racism hit me, according to you, on my "peroxide blond" palms.
Peel off the skin of a black man and a white man, dissect them both, leave them open for examination, both organs and entrails are similar, the same blood is red, the white man's blood is not fairer than the black man's blood; not even the best (Oxon) biologist can tell the difference.
I remember some years ago (1996), while house hunting in London, I was faced with the same dramatic dilemma as Kongi. It went something like this.
White English landIady's were scared of my deep Akwa Ibom accent (Gringory style). After several unsuccessful attempts, I had to hand the phone over to my fiancee (now my wife), she had cultivated this rich urbane British accent. The trick worked, I got myself a bed sit, but the land lady insisted on seeing the "English lady" for an interview. We prayed. I went on my own to a predominantly white area, High Barnet , in North London. When I appeared at my land lady's front door, the husband took one look at me and grunted under his breath, "O dear, it's a black African man!". Well, since I was not holding a spear or riding on the back of an elephant , he politely ushered me in. Still intrigued at my trick he asked me," the lady that spoke to my wife , is she black or white ?". I thought for a minute, then I replied ( it was something like this) , " she is a very black Edo woman, with a very white English voice",
Ladies and Gentlemen for your reading pleasure, " Telephone Conversation". Happy Birthday once again, Prof.
Ata Ikiddeh
UK, Essex
Telephone Conversation
by Wole Soyinka
The price seemed reasonable, location
Indifferent. The landlady swore she lived
Off premises. Nothing remained
But self-confession. "Madam," I warned,
"I hate a wasted journey—I am African."
Silence. Silenced transmission of
Pressurized good-breeding. Voice, when it came,
Lipstick coated, long gold rolled
Cigarette-holder pipped. Caught I was foully.
"HOW DARK?" . . . I had not misheard . . . "ARE YOU LIGHT
OR VERY DARK?" Button B, Button A.* Stench
Of rancid breath of public hide-and-speak.
Red booth. Red pillar box. Red double-tiered
Omnibus squelching tar. It was real! Shamed
By ill-mannered silence, surrender
Pushed dumbfounded to beg simplification.
Considerate she was, varying the emphasis--
"ARE YOU DARK? OR VERY LIGHT?" Revelation came.
"You mean--like plain or milk chocolate?"
Her assent was clinical, crushing in its light
Impersonality. Rapidly, wave-length adjusted,
I chose. "West African sepia"--and as afterthought,
"Down in my passport." Silence for spectroscopic
Flight of fancy, till truthfulness clanged her accent
Hard on the mouthpiece. "WHAT'S THAT?" conceding
"DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT IS." "Like brunette."
"THAT'S DARK, ISN'T IT?" "Not altogether.
Facially, I am brunette, but, madam, you should see
The rest of me. Palm of my hand, soles of my feet
Are peroxide blond. Friction, caused--
Foolishly, madam--by sitting down, has turned
My bottom raven black--One moment, madam!"--Sensing
Her receiver rearing on the thunderclap
About my ears--"Madam," I pleaded, "wouldn't you rather
See for yourself?"
Comments
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Good food for thought here.
Submitted by dating sirvice (not verified) on April 11, 2013 - 17:32.
Good food for thought here. Thank you very much for the extensive explanation. Very nicely written. Really makes think.
Long live the Gem
Submitted by Anonymous (not verified) on January 19, 2013 - 21:27.
Kudos! Wole Soyinka. I will never allow a racist to racist me.
Kongi's poem
Submitted by gerd meuer (not verified) on December 26, 2012 - 14:02.
- read it ages ago
- he has written many others, even 'better' ones:
read those in SAMARKAND, please. BUT:
Kongi's birthday is miles away, BUT I won't tell you when, since he abhors that...
Prof-of-penkele-birthdays
and alumnus supremus of same 'man'
Only time will tell who is
Submitted by femme russe (not verified) on September 25, 2012 - 18:50.
Only time will tell who is right on this issue.
I would like to know of a
Submitted by Dennis Bilby (not verified) on July 31, 2012 - 15:25.
I would like to know of a place that racism is the most common (not a country an actual place like a beach or cafe) and if you have experienced racism how it made you feel. I want to show empathy - but, lucky for me, I haven't ever experienced racism so I can only assume how I would feel.
This is the saddest crime
Submitted by Rose (not verified) on July 29, 2012 - 07:39.
This is the saddest crime that anyone can commit. I really don't get why racism is still taking place. People have to open their hearts and minds into working together.
Nice poem on a very serious
Submitted by Ana Desouza (not verified) on April 16, 2012 - 11:17.
Nice poem on a very serious issue. But is well explained.
Great work!
Submitted by Grace Bernard (not verified) on April 14, 2012 - 15:41.
This is where Art meets with Language. And the Language whose mode of being is literary. Wole Soyinka,you are a Gem!
Well Done Prof
Submitted by Godson O N (not verified) on April 6, 2012 - 15:12.
Prof,well done.Thanks for poem well written,I really enjoyed my self.
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Nice
Submitted by viagra without prescriptions (not verified) on December 7, 2011 - 20:22.
Nice poem, you made my day with this one.
had a good laugh
Submitted by Chizoba (not verified) on April 11, 2011 - 19:56.
I really had a good laugh whhen i read this article it was as witty as it was mischivieous.Really good stuff.Happy birthday prof!
On this particular occasion,
Submitted by Masamba Masanga (not verified) on March 23, 2011 - 12:07.
On this particular occasion, I am happy, very happy, to eat my words about Wole Soyinka.
I always had him down as an insufferably pompous, old git but this poem redeems him; it truly is a masterpiece.
beautiful poem. inspired me
Submitted by nnamsibrown (not verified) on October 1, 2010 - 12:46.
beautiful poem. inspired me when back as a budding poet. Prof Wole Soyinka is My ICON.
Good job!
Submitted by Bukola Oriola (not verified) on August 24, 2010 - 02:59.
I read this poem during Literature class in secondary school. I loved Wole Soyinka's attittude but did not really see beyond my imagination until I came to the US and saw exactly what racism is. I wish Rosa Park were alive, it would have been a good poem to read to her for standing her ground in those tough racism days in the US where a black person would not be allowed to sit on the bus when a white man was standing. Good job ta Ikiddeh.
Submitted by ataikidd (not verified) on July 23, 2010 - 00:00.
It's the mischief in this poem that bends me over. Listen to this.
"Facially, I am brunette, but, madam, you should see
The rest of me. Palm of my hand, soles of my feet
Are peroxide blond. Friction, caused--
Foolishly, madam--by sitting down, has turned
My bottom raven black--"
This poem is saying when you call me black what are you really saying.
1) I am brown not black, in fact i am brunette. Like the hair colour of Posh Spice.Cute.
2) My palms are blond, the colour of Cameron Diaz, wow!
3) My buttocks which is tucked under my pants is raven black, but you don't have to worry about that
because you don't see it anyway...besides it was not always raven black, it might revert back to it's original colour!?
Wole Soyinka is a genius!
Submitted by Bubble-Tee (not verified) on July 23, 2010 - 00:00.
This is my favourite poem, thank you. It is a masterpiece.
Submitted by ataIkidd (not verified) on July 23, 2010 - 00:00.
@ Abam
What is political about collapsing structures? What is political
about hundreds of people dying in brittle mud brick buildings?
What is political about con artist turned contractors!!!
I don't know where you are blogging from, but if you are one of the geeks
with SR, thank your stars you don't have to worry about the roof caving in on you either in your New York
office or flat.
Abam what is political about our government, with all their mistakes, failures, faults and insincerity, at least
getting some things RIGHT! What is political about that !!!
Submitted by James Abam (not verified) on July 23, 2010 - 00:00.
Yesterday you wrote politics, about Indigenous Contractors Remember
Akpabio's PRO. NUJ award buyer. Remember the Kidnap
30 senators monitoring on cemnent and sand.
30 presidents monitoring rod
You have forgotten so soon that Akpabio invited NUJ award sellers to come and sell award that led to their Kidnap and finally the death of four youth leaders.
You want to hide under the guise of indigenous contractors.
Submitted by ataIkidd (not verified) on July 23, 2010 - 00:00.
@ James Abam
I don't remember seeing the name Akpabio in this poem??!!
I can't understand why you are hurling this bricks.
When you become paranoid over an individual and you keep
mentioning his name at every nook and turn, you give that such an individual a larger than
life personality. Please appreciate this beautiful poem and leave out your politics. As you
can see you are the lone voice!!!
Submitted by Tall (not verified) on July 22, 2010 - 00:00.
I once tried a paid "hitch-hike" trip in Germany (Mitfahren), you share the fuel costs with your driver. Once we agreed when and where to meet, I told my host, you will find me very easily at the said junction, "I am Black." I wanted to avoid any thing unpleasent but my host saw through my smoke screen. As I settled into the car, he asked; "Is there any reason why you had to mention that you are black? Why do you think it would have made a difference?" I beat around saying it was the easier way to find me, but we both knew where I was coming from. Later we became very good friends, he had no issues with my colour, I had none with his. I have had my nasty experiences with white folks, but I have great ones too.
Submitted by Baba Demo (not verified) on July 22, 2010 - 00:00.
It reminds me of the era of 'No black, no dogs, no irish'.
Submitted by James Abam (not verified) on July 22, 2010 - 00:00.
Akpabio's PRO. NUJ award buyer. Remember the Kidnap
30 senators monitoring on cemnent and sand.
30 presidents monitoring rod
You have fogotten so soon that Akpabio invited NUJ award sellers to come and sell award that led to their Kidnap and finally the death of four youth leaders.
You want to hide under the guise of indigenous contractors.
Submitted by Bameyi (not verified) on July 22, 2010 - 00:00.
I love this poem. It is powerful and realistic. "Madam, "I warned, "I hate a wasted journey - I am African." Pang! I first encountered this poem in Laurence Perrine, third edition and one thing I learnt from it: don't give no racist no time to racist with you.
