When, while growing up, I realised I was born on 17th November, something came to my mind. First, people born that month have this aura about them. They usually exude confidence wherever they go. When therefore I heard that arguably the most popular and respected African writer, Chinua Achebe, was born that month, I understood.
I understood why everyone born that month strives to get it right; why second best is no option; where success at every cost becomes a necessity; I understood.
Indeed, when in a small village in Anambra state, called Ogidi, a certain Janet Anaenechi Iloegbunam Achebe gave birth to a baby boy on 16th November, 1930 and Isaiah Okafo Achebe, her husband, named the child Albert Chinualumogu, even the most pessimistic of people, I'm sure, realised Ogidi had been blessed. When Albert decided to shun Dennis Memorial Grammar School in Onitsha and chose the prestigious Government College Umuahia, he never knew he was about to make another unborn baby happy. That unborn baby is me!
Each time I start boasting to people about my beloved Government College, Albert Chinua Achebe is usually my first point of argument. Make no mistake about it, whatever I write today is made possible by two people, after God. First, the late literary guru Ogali A Ogali. Then, our beloved Chinua.
I do not hesitate to always announce to people how he was almost my birthday mate (had his mother stayed a day more, or mine a day earlier, it would have been possible. But who says it doesn't get interesting saying, "oh, why aren't we birthday mates?"). I do not forget to quote every words of wisdom from this guru.
Just recently, after turning down offer for a national award in 2004, he was approached again this year by the government of Nigeria, for the same award, slated for November 14, two days to his birthday. It would have been a perfect champagne for his birthday. It surely would have been headline news all over the world. I could imagine all these.
I always knew him to spring a few surprises, but I thought they had gone with age. But what did we get?
"The reasons for rejecting the offer when it was first made have not been addressed let alone solved," he said, and with that, rejected a chance for world glory.
Opinions got divided, and inside of me, I wondered if he had contradicted himself, considering one of his wise words I still remember. The vulgar (let's use blunt)side of Achebe said, "when that thing in a man rises up, his brain goes on French leave." I therefore wondered why his brain didn't go on French leave when the Federal government offer came on his birthday 'eve'. I realised however that "that thing" in him never rose up at the first place. Not because it cannot, but because it is sick and tired of rising up to nothing, to decadence, to corruption, to regression, to evil. Yes, it is tired.
One thing is sure. When things get better, the man in Achebe would rise and be heard. It would rise and make us happy. While we wait however, all we can do is wish this literary wizard a beautiful 81st birthday. He deserves this birthday, and more.
Surely, he would live long. Why not? Nigeria would get better and the "thing" would rise. We wish it happens as early as next year. That way, we kill two birds with a stone.
One, Nigeria would be a better place to be (that's what he wants) and Achebe would come out to proclaim that.
What victory would be bigger than that?
HAPPY BIRTHDAY sir.
