By
Obododimma Oha
Ability to
read has been associated with being civilised, or least, being able to get
information that another creature has stored in a particular form. In other
words, the reader has equally demonstrated an impressive skill, just like the
one who used a means to send or store it. Reading is, therefore, understood as
a skill that moves humanity a bit higher as manipulative creatures who want to
be in charge or present. If reading has been understood as an advantage and
something that moves humanity higher, one is not surprised then that women and
slaves in some contexts have been prevented from knowing how to read, the
result being that they have tried to go against such politics of advantages, learning to read
secretly and also using reading to try to come to awareness and to work out
their freedom. Yet, reading has also been another site for derogating others
(non-readers) and showing how terribly disadvantaged and foolish they have been.
This short essay looks at some ways that ability to read has been presented in
Igbo public discourse, especially this slant of using it to narrate others’
disadvantage.
It needs to
be pointed out that reading does not have to be of the modern linear pattern in
which one follows graphetic signs on the page, either from left to right, or
from right to left (as in Arabic culture). In fact, modern electronic media
have shown the reality of the fact that seeing and processing the graphetic
sign could be from any position: top to down of the page or even down to top.
The reader could scroll from any
position to process the sign.
Also, the so-called
“non-readers” may possess another tradition of reading, which the case in point
may try to obliterate. Thus, one has to be cautious in calling them
“non-readers.” I may have the ability to read a text of linear English, but not
a text of pictorial Nsibidi. That does not mean that I do not know how to read.
However, in
what has become the conventional linear reading that one finds exhibited in
newspapers and books, otherness has also been presented as disadvantaged. It is
either that the other does not like
reading or does not read at all to
know the world. This is a source of otherness humour. A narrative that is used
in this case is like an exaggerated dislike: “If you want to hide something
from the Black person, put it inside the page of a book.” The logic is that since
the Black person dislikes reading, that “thief” would not think of a page as a
place to search, and so the thing is safe!
An idea associated with this is that thoroughness and
reading are linked. The non-reader who happens to be Black would not be thorough
to search pages, blinded by dislike and assumptions linked to it. Every thief
has to demonstrate some cleverness, and should be ready to hypothesize the most
likely places of hiding a valuable!
To say the
least, the assumptions and logic of this narrative may be clever, funny, but
have weaknesses. Maybe because I am Black and so I am being protective and
defensive! Anyway, begin from exaggeration and desire for laughter to the
porous assumption that Black “thieves” are not very clever, and you would see
how weakly the humour is cloaked. But the foolishness in every humour is really
our own foolishness!
Another case
that I would like to examine is that of the poor reader (or self-inventing
reader) holding a newspaper upside-down, pretending to be reading, and
proclaiming (as a comment necessitated by the reading): “Chai, Zik e kwuo
ncha!” (Chai, Zik has uttered the marvellous). Perhaps this humour was authored
at a time that Dr. Nnamdi Azikiwe, Nigeria’s first president, was being
mythologized as a patriot and a highly educated man. He was, historically
speaking, a-larger-than-life figure and mesmerized many with his powerful
English utterances. Zik, as he was popularly known, was a symbol of ideal
patriotism and greatness. Even his opponents acknowledged this. As people got
the rare newspapers (which were also understood as symbols of learnedness) or
clustered and argued around newsstands, the utterance, “Zik e kwuo ncha” was unavoidable as their common
talk.
In that case,
anyone pretending to be learned and a reader of powerful language could deceive
others (who were also “non-readers”) by uttering “Zik e kwuo ncha.” Or maybe
that person is a real reader and is turning the newspaper in the hand to be able
to receive some snuff! Truly, “Zik e kwuo ncha.”
Laughing at
the other and using ability to read calls up the history and politics of
reading over time. As we look at this history, the laughter should not be
directed at the other (to continue the politics by other means) but at
ourselves. Yes; at our cultural selves.
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