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I am an African

Not because I was born there

But because my heart beats with Africa's

I am an African

Not because my skin is black

But because my mind is engaged by Africa

I am an African

Not because I live on its soil

But because my soul is at home in Africa

When Africa weeps for her children

My cheeks are stained with tears

When Africa honours her elders

My head is bowed in respect

When Africa mourns for her victims

My hands are joined in prayer

When Africa celebrates her triumphs

My feet are alive with dancing

I am an African

For her blue skies take my breath away

And my hope for the future is bright

I am an African

For her people greet me as family

And teach me the meaning of community

I am an African

For her wildness quenches my spirit

And brings me closer to the source of life

When the music of Africa beats in the wind

My blood pulses to its rhythm

And I become the essence of sound

When the colours of Africa dazzle in the sun

My senses drink in its rainbow

And I become the palette of nature

When the stories of Africa echo round the

fire

My feet walk in its pathways

And I become the footprints of history

I am an African

Because she is the cradle of our birth

And nurtures an ancient wisdom

I am an African

Because she lives in the world's shadow

And bursts with a radiant luminosity

I am an African

Because she is the land of tomorrow

And I recognise her gifts as sacred.

Art, History and Criticism

By Adewole Okuwafemi (OBJ)

In addition to the on going intellectual submissions.

History is the past and mostly viewed by historical critics as the flashlight to the future. However the light of some flashlights can be dim and others bright. It is believed that history sharpen us and our lack of historical knowledge would be our Waterloo as it kills us. An example can be see in the Nigerian Civil war. It is noted that the Nigerian Civil war which to our generation is history has shapen the live style we live in our generation. In the same vein history gives the road map to the future. Today in Nigeria ethnic and tribal sentiments are still rife due to the Biafram war.

Literature on the other hand is an interesting representation of life (LIFE here used generously). Literature speaks to the society by doing a critique of the way the society should be patterned. Literature is more of an intellectual cum psychological engagement than a realist engagement. Literature helps us to see the things hitherto unseen.

Criticism cannot be over emphasized. Criticism according to scholars like Fanon is the use of particular tools in engaging peculiar issues. Just like the carpenter makes measurement to get a foot stool done. Criticism too measures issues in a literary composition and nails it with accuracy and precision. Criticism is burdened with the right to open our consciousness to the hidden realities that a writer engages.

The interface between history, literature and criticism is this. While history provides the lubrication that assist literature in gliding through social and intellectual constructs, Criticism brings friction into this flow for us not to over speed and get lost in the motion that's applying Newton's law of motion.

Now let's do a very short and concise analysis of this interrelated concepts through the Marxist lens of 1984.
NB: Althusser's submission on Marxism would be engaged.

Prior to the writing of 1984 the world was thoroughly taken over by Capitalists and the social order saw to it that we comfortably have three economic classes.

However, sometimes around 1940 Communism and Socialism began to rear their head. That's History.

Criticism
The book 1984 engages the idea of the state having all and actually using the mind of the People to deceive them.
Winston wants to break free from the mental cage he's caged but what happens he's taken to room 101. The dreaded room of torture. To be beaten and broken till he agrees that 2+2=5. Now what do the capitalist do according to Althusser they use state apparatus like Prison, Court and Query to beat you to submission.

Also at a point a young lad went to report the parents to Authority. These young ones are trained or educated to be spies even against their parent. Another tool of the capitalist is Education. A child is educated from the cradle to learn how to behave and work for the capitalist.
Also, the idea of interpellation states that it is until you recognise an Authority that the authority can work on you. Exactly what was done with the use of Big brother. The image automatically got engraved in the mind of the people.

I hope have been able to elucidate on the nexus of the three.

NB: 1984 was written in 1949 though intended to be written in 1948 as a warning that by 1984 if Communism wasn't fought. That's the state the world would be in.

Adewole Oluwafemi
Femi Xplosionz
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Abstract: Criticism is like a lens use to read any literature. According to Jonathan Culler, criticism is defined as the general account of the work of literature and of the methods of analyzing it.

Zombie is a studio album by Nigerian Afro-American musician Fela Kuti . It was released in Nigeria by Coconut Records in 1976, and in the United Kingdom by Creole Records in 1977. [1]

Fela Anikulapo Kuti is a political critic, afro-beat musician. Whose song (Zombie) can be classified as a poem. Before it was sung, the lyrics of the song is figuratively written and the imagery used pictures what he (Fela) refers to as "Zombie".

The album criticised the Nigerian government; and it is thought to have resulted in the murder
of Kuti's mother Funmilayo Ransome-Kuti , and the destruction of his commune by the military.

Critical reception
In a 1981 review, music critic Robert Christmas gave the album an "Aâ��" and found Kuti's English lyrics to be "very political" and "associative". He said that Kuti records "real fusion music â if James Brown 's stuff is Afro-American, his is
American-African." [2] In a retrospective review, Allmusic 's Sam Samuelson gave Zombie four-and- a-half out of five stars and called it Kuti and Africa 70's "most popular and impacting record".

The political critic follows Marxists theory to criticize the then government which was dominated by Nigerian army,under the leadership of the Head of State (Olusegun Obasanjo). Karl Marx Marxists theory States that without the infrastructure, the superstructure can't stand.

The lyrics is gifted with figures of speech. The use of repetition, alliteration, and many more. The language used is highly political, associative,and simple for an illiterate to comprehend.

The political critic is not only criticizing the then military government; it lambasted the irrational, dehumanizing, voiceless lives they live. All they do is follow the generals who are interested in plotting coup against either the Head of State or president.

This he also pointed at in his "Beast of no nation"_ Fela. He classified them to be a Beast. And the country is a regardless nation.

The afro-beat artist used his artistic intelligence to picture the soldiers as" Zombie" that is always controlled, speechless, not opportune to question the cause of the action.

Circles of blood graced the terrace that led to ogele's river, could this be an Hunter's handiwork, no it couldn't have been, as I remembered that sacred grounds like this, is no hunting ground for the hunters, fear gripped me when I saw pieces of human flesh laced with fresh blood,while the flies danced, buzzling round the pieces, I shook, I could hear my heartbeats, it seems faster.
I should have stayed back with ogechukwu, I sobbed. I hear sounds, seems like footsteps, No it's not, the rustling of the winds stopped, I saw an ikwikwie watching untop the osisi aki bekee tree, it eyes glowed like sun, a bad omen. In a flash I dropped mama's earthenware, it's her favourite,but I couldn't wait to watch as it came crashing down the earth, and to the earth it returned, dashed towards the forest thick, hoping I will take cover in the safety provided by the vegetations bunker, I hid myself against the greens, unsure of what I was hiding from, panting heavily, I wished I could chameleon myself against the greens around me, as a little child, I have watched the Ugwumagana changing colours at will to suit his environment, I wished I was a Ugwumagana , or better still with some esoteric powers that will transform me into a bird, I just wanted to be back home, my introduction is few moons away.
I laid low blending with the vegetations, I watched, my eyes seemed tired,but i could still hear the faint sounds, suddenly I saw some sparkles of light across, I crawled over, walking on my two knees, I moved in its direction, steering my way around the trees, careful not to reveal myself, it seems a foolish idea,i should have just ran, ran as fast as my legs could carry me, only ogechukwu could run faster than I do in the village, but some unknown spirits kept pushing me to this unknown danger, if I die, I die.
With every step I took, the sounds seems clearer,i saw a human figure, bending low, with its head down into... I couldn't see well, seems the plants around him will not let me see him well , I stood up for he seems in a danger, this I thought,so I dashed up moving confidently to him , which proved to be a bad decision,for it became clearer, nothing could be more horrible than this, rooted to my foot, I tried moving, seems mother earth is filled with some magic glue, the cardinals meeting at my head, the more I saw,the less I saw. A man eating figure, he never seemed bother with my uninvited presence, as he continued tearing through the fabrics of his victim's flesh, blood laced the map of his mouth, with different tributaries of blood dripping down his jaws, his canine seems unusual, with some pointed up like an aroused nipple, there in between his dentals, some intestine seems trapped , and it dangled like an headless snake below. I stood rooted, seems my chi is bent on punishing me today,this punishment is far too heavy for me to bear. He continued tearing his way down through the flesh, working his way down,pushing the bones aside, he hungrily devoured, filling his stomach with every bits, an Udele circles nearby, hoping that he would be generous enough to leave some fleshy carcase.
Something moved in me, I noticed my right leg has shifted from its original position, I was about lifting the other when I lifted my head to look at the "man eating man" my heartbeat ceased for seconds, he was looking at me,his eyes shone like that of a cat, his clothes covered in blood, he left his precious meal, he drew nearer, the Udele also perched nearer.
He drew nearer, and my spirit seems to have left my body, a fleshy lump seems standing, I tried to picture his face, but my sight was already failing me, I saw nothing but death approaching me, wearing an oyinbo coat, which is already covered in blood, it's irregular pattern making some odd designs on the fabrics, a crucifix with X inscribed on its meeting point dangled around his neck. He stood before me,watched me like some thousands years artifact which was just unearthed from the rubbles. Danger smelled around him,he watches with a keen eye, seems I fascinate him,i wished the earth will open up its ugly mouth and swallow me, I prayed for death, but not from this horrible being, he moved his hands, and he touched me, his hands upon my shoulder,I shuddered at his touch,as if he wanted to examine his next meal, he moved his hands from my shoulder, placing it on my face, his fingers found rest on the sofa of my face, for he seems pleased with it , moving across my facial templates, I seems helpless, my nostrils drizzled with liquids, it thundered, the Udele flew away hurriedly , I fainted into his open arms and it rained heavily.

I dreamt of him in my dreams, and I knew it's him, he was wearing the same oyinbo coat I saw him wore, just that it's without blood stains. We danced under the sun, and with our hands interlocked together, we ran down the hills together, with wings we flew, riding through the Stormy weathers to the sea, and on its banks, we made love, and the next day I gave birth to a boy, we both named him Onwuatuegwu, so much he looked like his father.
I coughed my way back to life, and found ogechukwu sitting beside the fire in my room keeping tabs on the pot placed on fire, he shouted, Papa! Papa! Ifesinachi has opened her eyes. Papa rushed like a child down into my room, mama I was told had gone down to call a dibia, for I was told, I laid unconscious for three days.
Fully back to life, I was administered to by the dibia upon mama's arrival, upon seeing me regaining consciousness, mama sprawled on the ground not minding her wrapper, and the wet group stained the face of Father Clement, who was patterned on the wrapper, she sang various songs to chukwu thanking Him for my survival. When asked to state recount my ordeals in front of the igwe days later, I simply told them, I was attacked by a wild animal, a soft spot I had developed for this man eating man, reasons I cannot fathom. One thing I was sure of, is my sanity, Ogechukwu knew I lied
My dreams later became our favorite home, for he visited several days after, another baby we gave birth to, another boy, and we both named him, Ozuluonye. Next time we will have a baby girl, this I was sure of...

Written by Amudipe Marcus

A Letter to My Future First Child.

Hello my young one,

You seems to enjoy the bliss of the yonder realm so much that I saw you yestermight running in the lawn of the sky. Let my words sail to you in the yacht of silence, in the chariot of thoughts, and in the mystery of the wind. I know your world is beautiful, so also is mine, just that not many would believe here that you will see or even read this letter. Such is the shallowness of our world for we dwell in the mockery of many impossibilities.

However, I'm writing to hint you about mortality and humanity. You see, at this side of eternity, some tears never dry, some broken hearts never mend, some pains never end, some beasts never die. Many homes are ruined, many dreams are shattered, people's hope battered, and joy lynched. Such is the way our world is made and somethings are just like that. The natural beast in man is capable of evils beyond the comprehension of angels and the predictions of the groits. So dear, when you come over here, don't be perplexed to see many nations engulfed in the untamable flame of confusion and selfish individual bound for a catastrophic end.

Nevertheless, I've emancipated myself from the chasm of bondage humanity is plunged into. 've got ma comfort in da King of creation, the ruler of the great generalismo.

Yes,yes, I admit that sometimes I'm scared of the sun going down the western slope. I wonder too about what lies behind the sepulchre and in the darkness of the abyss of death. But I know for sure, the Master of Mystery will keep me safe and those who trust him through many storms in the hollow of his mighty wings.

Child!

My child, being around for a while, life has taught me a great lesion which you must know aforehand. All our fears, worries, and anxieties are nothing but shadows. They are giant mountains created in the heart by reflections as the sun produces shadows beneath the market tree. But they are mirage that appears real in the distance but vanishes if you dare to defy all doubts and advance.

So dear, fears, tears, worries, and sometimes even failures may cause man endless sorrow, they are the priceless ornaments with which time is adorned. They are the esteem jewels that beautifies our world making the frail stronger, the heart tougher, and the soul brighter reminding us we need God and we need one another.

So to my hero child, I carve for you a path of bravery that defects storms and buffeting wind. Climb the mountains, cross the rivers, saunter in the wood. Conquer the land, conquer the sea, for yours is a noble birth.

Yours Committedly, Emmanuel.

I
“Human beings have always have stories to tell and as our species evolve, so is our means of self-expression … and our need to and our need to preserve what we understood to be our past” (Kirszer. 141)
Story telling has been a crucial part of humanity right from time immemorial, and it cannot be narrowed down to just one group of people. However, the history of story-telling may be vague in our insight, we are certain that writing came at a much latter time. Without complexities, writing due to its versatility was used from earlier period to document human philosophies, beliefs, traditions, stories (which the youngest of all is novel), discoveries etc.
Writing begins with the cautious effort of the Neanderthal men attempt to represent their well developed speech traditions through the use of symbols and picture which eventually lead to the unavoidable transition from the dark ages of primitivism to that of literary (Yule 1996). As a matter of fact, history has it that writing began in Africa (Egypt, the cradle of world civilization) and the various groups of people in the world do not develop at the same pace. The Western countries, for example, have gone ahead of the rest of the world in technology, science, literature, commerce, etc. Their languages such as Greek, Latin, and English are considered the languages of scholarship, government, religion etc.
When the Western countries are aggressively progressing in civilization and literacy, many African communities have no written literature but possess rich and varied traditions __such as folklores, folk songs, proverbs, moonlight stories, riddles etc. In this rich form of literature which the Ugandan Scholar, Pio Zimuru, coined as “orature” (oral literature) consists the African philosophy and ideology of life, of humanity, of divinity, of government, and of belief. We cannot explain African peculiarity without deliberate reference to their oral traditions.
II
Not withstanding, we must understand that though Africans prided this wonderful form of literature in their cranial repositories and preserve its uniqueness of history in their capacious memories, there is a need to transliterate it for posterity. As Erily rightly observed that “it is chiefly through books that we have intercourse with superior ancient minds”, the fact is that the faintest ink is better than the sharpest memory.
Although there have been substantial intriguing historical facts about the long tradition of writing in Africa, some enough to arouse our studious minds of curiosity, we should at first agree with Edgar Wright who establishes that “real African literature in English occur in the fifties” (Wright. 1973). However, history has it that books have been in Africa before the Whites came.
Historically, myriad of incunabula books have been brewing in Africa especially in the Northern countries. About 300,000 manuscripts are tucked away in various libraries in Ethiopia (Timbuktu) which is dated back to around 4th century AD. Among these several extant literature of this ancient time include the “Epic of Sundiata” composed in medieval Mali, “Kebra Nagast” (Book of Kings) written in Ge’ez etc.
Overtly, the history of writing is not our main concern but the peculiarity of the Novel literary genre as African. This consequentially leads to the ineluctable question, what is a Novel? In his book, “The Development of the English Novel”, Cross L. Wilbur provided a general explanation for the Novel thus:
“The Novel gives a familiar revelation of such things that pass every day before our eyes such as may happen to our friends or to us; and the perfection of it is to represent every scene in so easy natural manner and to make them appear so probable as to deceive into persuasion (at least while reading) that all is real until we are affected by the joys or distresses of the persons in the story as if they are our own”
This definition seems to be an ordinary explanation, yet it has revealed precisely the pivotal facets of the Novel. Another great definition of great fascination is contained in contained in the Encyclopedia Britannica thus:
“The Novel is an invented prose narrative of considerable length and certain complexities that deals imaginatively with human experience, usually through connected sequence of events involving a group of persons in a specific setting”
This has shown explicitly that the novel is usually of certain length, prosaic, fictional, and realistic. These elements make it different from other forms of literature such as plays, allegories, fables, epic, short stories, and poetry. Having said that, at this juncture, we must consider the argument before us which states that is the Novel African to not?
III
To be certain that our standpoint is justifiable, we must know what we are arguing for or against. Are we saying that the literary genre of the Novel is strictly African or the Novel has an African variant? To say strictly that the Novel is African is an academic aberration devoid of historical fact but positing that the Novel has an African variant is justifiable.
Novel most times is defined by its geographical locations; therefore, we have the English Novel, American Novel, Italian Novel, African Novel etc. The hilarity of saying the Novel is an African “thing” is quickly exposed when some historical fact is considered. The first English novel for example is written by Daniel Defoe (Robinson Crusoe) in 1719, while the first African novel written by Joseph Ephraim Casely Hayford was in 1911 _a difference of nearly 200years. It is therefore an unequivocal implausibility and improbability to propose that the Novel is African characteristically. Considering the works of Defoe, Richardson, Bronte, Sontag, etc which include novels like “Moll Flanders” “Pamela” “Emma” “Death Kit” which are already published earlier before any modern African novel, we cannot but assert that the novel is not born in Africa. Or do we affirm that those numerous books written in Europe, America and Asia are not novels?
Moreover, I have avowed earlier that the novel is identified by its geographical locations; hence, we have America Novel, English Novel, and Italian Novel etc. However, it is most appropriate to say instead that we have African Novel. The question is, “what makes the African Novel African?” Since not all novels are African, what therefore are the peculiarities of the African Novel differentiating it from other forms of novels in the world?
In the first premise, the African Novel is controversially established as the novel whose authorship is by Africans, for Africans and about Africans. In other words, the African Novel is a novel written about Africa, and African people, their culture, religion, history, socio-political experiences, daily challenges etc. There has been an hot argument about who an African writer should be and what an African writer should write. We have non-Africans who have written extensively and interestingly about Africa and its people, and we have Africans who have written books but not about Africans. It is generally agreed that as African Novel must be about Africans.
These novels usually consist of themes such as: the clash between Africa’s past and present, between tradition and modernity, between indigenous and foreign, between individualism and community, between socialism and capitalism, between development and self-reliance and between Africanity and humanity.
George Joseph notes this in his chapter on “Africa Literature and Understanding Contemporary Africa” that:
“… traditionally, Africans do not radically separate art from teaching. Rather than write or sing for beauty itself, African writers help in communicating some important messages about the community” (emphasis added)
Similarly, the language of the African Novel must be in such a way that it conveys the beauty of African culture. Though, Ngugi wa Thiong’o, Obi Wali and Francis Irele Abiola anong others have argued that African novels should written in indigenous languages, and scholars like Ache has defended his use of English in writing novels, African novels must be written in such a way that it communicate the beauty of African culture.
Its thematic preoccupation is also centered on African past, present and possible future such as its colonial experience, post-colonial occurrence, etc.
Surmising it all, it is obvious that all African novels are novels but not all novels are African. So we have other novels defined by their geographical locations such as English Novels, American Novel etc
REFERENCES
Kirzer, Mandell. Literature: Reading, Reacting, Writing
Yule, George. The Study of Language(1992)
Wright, Egdar. The Critical Evaluation of African Literature
Epic of Sundiata
Kebra Nagast (Book of Kings)
Wilbur, Coss. Development of the English Novel (1906)
Encyclopedia Britannica
Defoe, Daniel Robinson Crusoe (1719)
Richardson, Samuel. Pamela
Defoe, Daniel. Moll Flanders (1729)
Sontag, Susan. Death Kit
Joseph, George. African literature and Understanding the Contemporary Africa
Irele, Abiola. The Criticism of Modern African Literature
Thiong’o Ngugi. Decolonizing the Mind: the Politics of Language in African Literature (1986)
Achebe, Chinua. The Politics and Politicians of Language in African Literature (1989)
Achebe, Chinua. Things Fall Apart. (1958)
Oloyede, Olatuja. The English Novel: its History and Characteristics
Encyclopedia of African Literature, London: Routledge, (2003)
George, Joseph “African Literature” in Gordon, Understanding Contemporary Africa (1996)
Ali, Mazrui. The Development of Modern African Literature since 1935.

small upper bedroom in the home of Reverend Samuel Parris, Salem, Massachusetts, in the spring of the year 1692. There is a narrow window at the left. Through its leaded panes the morning sunlight streams. A candle still burns near the bed, which is at the right. A chest, a chair, and a small table are the other furnishings. At the back a door opens on the landing of the stairway to the ground floor. The room gives op an air of clean spareness. The roof rafters are exposed, and the wood colors are raw and unmellowed. As the curtain rises, Reverend Parris is discovered kneeling be-side the bed, evidently in prayer. His daughter, Betty Parris, aged ten, is lying on the bed, inert. At the time of these events Parris was in his middle forties. In history he cut a villainous path, and there is very little good to be said for him. He believed he was being persecuted wherever he went, despite his best efforts to win people and God to his side. In meeting, he felt insulted if someone rose to shut the door without first asking his permission. He was a widower with no interest in children, or talent with them. He regarded them as 3.

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In Poetics of Aristotle (384 -322BC), Aristotle asserts that a tragic hero is a character that has risen to a lofty height of prominence only to be crumbled by his own innate flaws and mistakes and not as a result of his adversaries. “Okonkwo was well known throughout the nine villages and even beyond. His fame rested on solid personal achievements. As a young man of eighteen he had brought honour to his village by throwing Amalinze the cat. ...Okonkwo’s fame had grown like a bush-fire in the harmattan”(1)Okonkwo was clearly cut for great things (6) though he inherited nothing from his lazy father Onoka. He was a wealthy farmer and had two barns full of yams (6).

Here is a man who has risen out of the penury conferred on him by ugly paternity to honour, respect, influence and affluence in his community. He is among the nine marked spirit who administered justice in the clan (12) and he has taken all but one title. He has shown incredible prowess in two inter-tribal wars. He is already one of the greatest men of his time.

However, his hatred for everything his father loves which include gentleness and idleness (10) imprisons his life in perpetual fear of the unknown and the dread of the uncertain. Achebe puts it in explicit terms thus:
But his whole life was dominated by fear, the fear of failure and weakness. It was deeper and more intimate than the fear of evil and capricious gods and of magic, the fear of the forest, and the forces of nature, malevolent red in tooth and claw. Okonkwo’s fear was greater than these. It was not eternal but lay deep within himself. It was the fear of himself, lest he should be found to resemble his father (9-10)

Aristotle in his Poetics (384 – 322 BC) seems to capture the fall of Okonkwo as he expostulates on what constitutes the elements of a tragic hero by writing that “the downfall of a noble hero or heroine is usually through a combination of hubris, fate and the will of the gods. The tragic hero’s powerful wish to achieve some goals inevitably encounters limits, usually through human frailty (flaws in reason, hubris and society.)”

Things started going in antipode direction for Okonkwo, who has enjoyed the felicity of being an authority in his clan, the moment his gun explodes and pieces the heart of Ezeudu’s son (86). In the words of Achebe, “nothing like this had ever happened”(87). This act alone destroys the wealth and prosperity he has built all his life except the little ones his friend, Obierika could rescue. Like a child with fire within his thighs, he flees from his father’s land and suffers banishment for seven years.

As corroborated by Aristotle, “the tragic hero is a great man who is neither a paragon of virtue and justice nor undergoes the changes of misfortune through real badness or wickedness but because of some mistakes (hamartia)”

Overtly, Okonkwo’s fear-driven life leads him to a more sinister chasm of derision and self destruction than that of banishment. Borrowing Bode Ajuwon’s phrase in his article, Oral and witten Literature in Nigeria, Okonkwo should be regarded as the “keeper of the peoples’ ancient wisdoms and beliefs”, a staunch pillar of antiquated past who vehemently insisted on the maintenance of the status quo rather than been drifted around by aliens’ philosophies, customs and beliefs.

In the essay, Okonkwo’s Downfall in Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe, the anonymous writer enlightens on the hubris in Okonkwo’s life thus
“Okonkwo’s devotion to manliness is an obsession that leads these incredible situations of violence and resistance with regard to the colonialist and therefore is the reason for his destruction.”
When Okonkwo returns to his father’s land, he is dismayed by the unhampered changes that have infiltrated Umoufia during the course of his absence. The Europeans have not only brought a religion, but also a government. The conversion of his only son Nwoye to Christianity, the fanaticism of some over-zealous converts such as Enoch who no longer respected the customs of their forebears and the excesses of the White administrative body aggravated his untameable passion for remonstrance _which consequentially leads to his murdering of one government official.

“In a flash, Okonkwo drew his matchet. The messenger crushed to avoid the blow. It was useless. Okonkwo’s matchet descended twice and the man’s head lay beside his uniformed body.” (144)
Just as Aigboje Higo observes in his introductory note that “you can see him [Okonkwo] as the hero who fails to hold or uphold the share responses of his clan and as a result of which the clan, like him, breaks apart” the Irish Poet, W. B. Yeats, writes in his poem The Second Coming from which Achebe derives his afflatus of his title thus:
“Things fall apart: the centre cannot hold
Mere anarchy his at loosed upon the world”
However, Obierika sums up the totality of Okonkwo’s existence, his fame and failure, strength and weakness, and all he lives for or represented when he accuses the District Commissioner and his high handed governance thus:
“That man was one of the greatest men in Umuofia. You drove him to kill himself: and now he will be buried like a dog...” (147)
Without further ado, it is very reasonable to assert that it is the Aristotelian tragic hero that has inspired the character of Okonkwo who has risen out of obscurity and poverty to prosperity and lofty height of enviable success only to crumble not as a result of his adversary, evil or enmity but by his own innate limitations and flaws called hubris (flaws) and hamattia (mistakes) in Latin.

WORKS CITED
Achebe, Chinua. Things Fall Apart. Heinemann Educational Books (With introduction and note by Aigboye Higo). 1958
Aristotle. Poetics (384 – 322 BC)
Bode, Ajuwon. Oral and Written Literature in Nigeria. Nigerian History and Culture, Richard Olaniyan, editor, (Hong Kong, Longman Group Ltd, 1985) pp 306 – 318
Okonkwo’s Downfall in Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe. 123helpme.com
W. B. Yeats. The Second Coming.

INTRODUCTION
Literature being a multifaceted phenomenon has never been given a univocal definition, nether is there any catholic or conventional explanation for it. Over the decades, literature has meant different things to different people. Literarily, literature is seen in its broadest sense as any written piece or document. This aforementioned position of what literature entails does not put into consideration the aesthetic content of such written piece, hence it (literature) could be political, scientific, economical or historical documentations. However, to myriad of scholars, literature is believed to be any form of aesthetic and artistic expression whose purpose of existence is to mirror and reproduce the society, by reflecting life: its paradoxes, ironies, tragedies, mysteries and events in totality. It is believed to be a set of imaginative creation engendered from the author’s cognition which draws heavily from the society surrounding men. To a very large and considerable extent, literature is primarily seen as the work of art which entertains and educates.
Unequivocally, literature as a field of study goes beyond an ordinary written document which may contain specific set of information on a particular phenomenon, rather it suggests an aesthetic and artistic creation verbally or literarily reflecting the multifarious human society. Without further ado, we must understand in lucid terms that literature does not exist arbitrarily, but being such an indispensable fragment of humanity, it serves some very crucial and overwhelming purposes. Among these functions are its affective/emotive, entertaining, biographical, historical, and didactic functions. The main focus of this paper however, is to expatiate explicitly yet in succinct terms the didactic, entertaining and emotive functions of literature.
Methodology
Being a literary research, this work is mainly library based. It draws heavily from the ideologies of various scholars published in various articles, reviews, books internet materials and interviews. The paper is therefore intended to provide ample pieces of information on some salient functions of literature.

LITERATURE SERVING DIDACTIC FUNCTIONS
Disambiguation of Nomenclature
In the first premise, what is didacticism? Didacticism simply denotes the instructional qualities embedded in a particular thing. Didactic literature by implication portends a work of art intended to dispatch information and teach certain ideology most times on morals and ethics. Didacticism is a philosophy that emphasizes instructional and informative qualities in literature. In other words, didactic literature is a kind of literature which is intended to communicate a moral theme or other rich truth to the audience. Didacticism will therefore be considered concisely in oral and written literature.
DIDACTICISM IN ORAL LITERATURE
Oral literature is used to cover a wide range of religious, social and cultural activities that sprout from the historical and social experiences of the pre-literate people which in turn make up their world view and philosophical orientation. Oral literature, according to someone like Ruth Finnegan, refers to the totality of unwritten form of believe and values of a people which are given expression to through myth, legend, folk traditions, proverbs, festivals etc.
Didacticism is incontrovertibly more pronounced in oral literature than the written form. Borrowing Pio Zirimu, a Uganda scholar’s terminology, “orature” (i.e. Oral Literature) apart from being a very vital tool of meeting the people’s aesthetical desires, it vehemently establishes itself as a pivotal source of passing salient information to the audience acquainting them with certain norms and acceptable ethics of a given society.
Just as Bode Ajuwon hinted in his essay: Oral and written literature in Nigeria, “Telling stories is used by narrators to instruct the young and teach them to respect the dictates of their custom: as a result, a large body of moral instruction, of societal values and norms are preserved for posterity.” George Joseph similarly in his African Literature in Understanding Contemporary Africa posits thus: “Literature does not imply an artistic use of words for the sake of art alone… traditionally, Africans do not separate art from teaching. Rather than write for beauty in itself, African … use beauty to help communicate important truths and information to the society. Indeed, an object is considered beautiful because of the truth it reveals and the communities it helps to build.” Palpably, oral literature in Africa plays a crucial role in educating the populace about African cosmology and philosophy. Finnegan espouses this in her lauded book, Oral Literature in Africa by expounding on the fact that morality is inseparable even from daily life of an average African society. The moonlight stories, festivals, ceremonies etc are fundamental sources of communicating to the younger generation the essentials of a given society.
DIDACTCISM IN WRITTEN LITERATURE
Didactic literature are set of literary works created with the intention of teaching morals, relaying certain instructions the author deems crucial, exposing certain things for the purpose of educating its audience. Around the 19th century, didacticism became a term in criticism used to denote works that are over-burdened with instructive, factual or otherwise educational information. Though contrary to Allen Poe ideology (in his The Poetic Principle) about didacticism being the worst heresy, didactic literatures are often times characterized with idiosyncrasies. That is, as societies varies so do its set of believes varies.
However, literature being an aesthetic expression is a versatile ground in which writers from inception recourse to establish their moral believes, academic philosophies, sociopolitical ideologies and even economic idiosyncrasies. Some of such didactic literatures are John Bunyan’s Pilgrims Progress (1878) and Alexander Pope’s An Essay on Criticism (1711). Alexander Pope for instance advises about the critics and criteria that are best adopted in scholarly researches. On the other hand, Bunyan in his allegorical literature establishes vehemently the Christian values, moral uprightness, and the just judgment of the most high and holy God. Consider the extract below from Bunyan’s Pilgrims Progress
“In my own eyes and the eyes of others, I was once an honest and flourishing professor of faith. I consider myself a good candidate of Celestial City and at that time, I even had joy of living there…I am now a man of despair…I have stopped being alert and self controlled…I let loose the reign of my desires. I sinned against the Light of the Word and the good God. I’ve provoked God to anger and he has left me. I have hardened my heart that I cannot repent. I’m guilty of crucifying Him again. I’ve despised his position, I’ve hated His righteousness, and I’ve treated His blood as an unholy thing. I’ve insulted the Spirit of Grace. So I’ve excluded myself from all the promises and now there remains for me nothing but threats, which will devour me as an enemy of God” pp 42-43
It is crystal clear from the aforestated extract that Bunyan with no intrepidity intends to acquaint his audience with the unbearable and insufferable pangs of being separated from God. Surmising it all, didactic literature are literary works with instructions aimed at influencing people’s disposition to certain things. Example of didactic literature include: Sophie’s World (1991) by Jostein, The Adventures of Nicholas Experience by Ignacy Krasicki (1776) and John Bunyan’s Pilgrims Progress (1878).
Unequivocally, Babatunde Omobalawe caps it all by affirming that “two things at least are indispensible to the creation of work of art. The first is it is the representation of life whose creation is propelled by a host of other factors. Second, it is created to serve a pragmatic purpose, which is usually didactic in nature”

LITERATURE AS A MEANS OF ENTERTAINMENT
Disambiguation of Nomenclature
Indubitably, entertainment in its broadest sense is a form of activity that holds the attention and interest of an audience, or gives pleasure and delight. Moreover, entertainment in literature goes beyond just activities which sustain the interest of an audience, entertainment being a multifarious fragment of literature gives life and vitality to literary artifacts. Hence, we have scholars of ‘Art for Art sake’ and crusaders of ‘escapism’ who rigidly insist on the artistic quality of any literary piece. It is expedient to state that a total demystification of the term ‘entertainment’ is practically impossible but without mincing words, literature remains to a great extent an unparallel medium of meeting the peoples’ creative desires.
ENTERTAINMENT IN ORAL LITERATURE
‘Orality’ being the forbear of the world literature has at its core the important rudiments of entertainment. The legacy of the bards, the raconteur, the griot, the masque motif performance has entertainment as its basis and fundamental purpose of existence. Bode Ajuwon exposes this in his essay Oral and Written Literature in Nigeria thus:
“Pre-literate society once enjoyed a verbal art civilization which at its high point was patronized by traditional rulers and the general public… The Oral artists, freelancers or guild-associates, enjoyed reference as the keepers of the people’s ancient wisdoms and beliefs. The Oral artist frequently entertained their audiences dramatically, providing relaxation and teaching moral lessons”
In nexus with that, Peter Widdowson observes that:
“West African audiences participate noisily and bodily in some genres, commenting upon the poet’s style and behaviour of the fictional protagonists; in other genres, they are required to be silent while the drummer set the rhythm and the syntax for the performers to follow.”
Oral literature is a form of entertainment which fosters the feelings of solidarity with others who have similar experiences. Being the repository of artistic expression in the society, its beauty resonates cultural frontiers.
ENTERTAINMENT IN WRITTEN LITERATURE
“If I am not entertained by a book to some level, I’m not reading it.”
___Mirabell, in (World Literature Forum)

It is neither strange nor arguable to affirm that literature offers a great deal of entertainment and relaxation to its audience. Many a times, people recourse to literary text for the pleasure and the fun of it. As a matter of fact, there are literatures created solely for the purpose of entertaining the audience. All the comic plays of Olarotimi such as Our Husband has Gone Mad Again and Grip Am and the farce of Femi Osofisan such as Midnight Hotels, Yungba-Yungba and the Dance Contest etc are good examples of such works which readily comes to mind.
The musico-dramaturgical presentations of Osofisan for instance have been lauded over the decades for the wide range of satirical entertainment it offers. Just as Kole Omothosho reveals in his Theatrical into Theater, good theatrical presentations are often interpolated with musicals, dance and every other forms of aesthetic extravaganzas for the amusement and enjoyment of its audience. No wonder Thomas Ligotti in an interview posits that “literature is entertainment or it is nothing.”
Just as the Roman Poet, Horace says, “Literature is sweet and useful”, and it has even progressed from providing mere pleasure to its audience to offering an escape route from mental pressure, situational distresses, emotional traumas and conditional depressions. The school of thought who holds such ideology has been termed escapism.
Escapist fiction is the fiction which provides a psychological escape from thoughts of everyday life by immersing the reader in exotic situations or activities. Escapism as a literary term is the mental diversion by means of entertainment and recreation, as an “escape” from perceived unpleasant or banal aspect of daily life. Without doubt, literature occupies the leading role of relieving people of persisting feelings of depression or general sadness.

AFFECTIVE AND EMOTIVE FUNCTION OF LITERATURE
Disambiguation of Nomenclature
Affective and effective quality of anything (be it an idea or action) is solely determined by the external expression, psychological reaction and emotion response it is capable of effecting in its recipients.
Overtly, literature is one thing which affects the conducts of man, and contributes immensely to the construction of certain ideology and world view in the society. Diachronically, literature, right from time immemorial, has in no small measure affected humanity; their inter-personal relationship, perception of their cosmology and divinity, sociopolitical conceptualization of their immediate environment and understanding of their personal and corporate existence.
Taking a cursory look at the rich works of the 5th century BC of the ancient Greece such as the plays of Aeschylus, Sophocles, Euripides, and Aristophanes, or the artistic works of the Old Roman Empire which include the works of Horace, Luvius Andronicus, Gnaeus Naevius and Seneca, it is readily obvious why the general belief and ideology then is that of predestination. Sophocles’ King Oedipus for example re-emphasizes the fact that man is a victim of fate and destiny.
With the conception of such geniuses like William Shakespeare and John Milton in the literary scene, this idea is gradually decimated and finally dilacerated with the works of such Victorian writers like Thomas Hardy, James Joyce, Oscar Wilde, T. S. Eliot, D. H. Lawrence, Katherine Manfield, Viginia Woolf and George Orwell. Just as a critic once commented:
“Literature in the period 1870-1945 reflects a world in transition, but literary writing in itself became a force in changing the way that world could be represented, valued and reflected on. This was also the era in which artists revolutionized the forms of their arts and in relation to the society, tradition and reality. Then, issues which continues to define our times _ access to education, question of democracy, gender equality, race and imperialism, sexuality, individualism _ were at the core of social upheaval. And at this time, ideas which have dominated twentieth century intellectual life___ including the thought of Darwin, Marx, and Freud _ first entered the wider cultural and political areas.”
Even apart from literature being capable of transmogrifying man’s perception of his cosmology, it can also instigate such emotional response like bravery, fear, cowardice, pity, empathy, sympathy, resentment, affection, etc in the audience. However, these responses are determined by the author’s dexterous use of words and ability to communicate his heart and intentions effectively. For example, one could hardly read Sophocles’ or Aeschylus’ plays without being caught up in perpetual fear of the unknown. Neither is it usually possible to come in contact with the divine afflatus imbedded in Shakespeare’s plays without loving his artistry and choice of words. Most of Achebe’s novels have also been deemed to initiate a feeling of empathy in the reader as it acquaints them with the situational dilution and confusion of a given ‘geographical expression.’ Similarly, Femi Osofisan’s comic histrionics, scatological jokes and musico-dramaturgy has been a good source of massive relief to his audience and admirers.
Therefore, the judgment of a literary piece based on its effectiveness in terms of how it affects the audience’ emotion remains the domain of psychoanalytic critics. However, contrary to the proponents of impressionalist fallacy, who argues that the readers’ response to a literary piece is the ultimate indication of its value, critics like W. K. Wimsatt and Monroe Beardsley came up with the idea of affective fallacy (a term used to refer to the suppose error of judging or evaluating a text on the basis of its effects on the reader.) For Wimsatt, a view of literature based on his putative emotional effects will always be vulnerable to mystification and subjectivity. It is believed that such impressionistic approach poses practical and theoretical problems. Nevertheless, the extremism of Wimsatt’s approach is ultimately judged untenable by a number of critics.
CONCLUSION
A conscious effort has been made to expatiate on the didactic, entertainment, and affective function of literature though in a very concise and precise language. However, as it is shown in this paper, the aforementioned function of literature remains the ‘major’ reason for its continuous existence. Literature is the most effective tool of educating, entertaining and affecting the world.
WORKS CITED
Abrams, M. H. Glossary of Literary Terms
Ajuwon, Bode. Oral and Written Literature in Nigeria
Bunyan, John. Pilgrims Progress (1878)
Finnegan, Ruth. Oral Literature in Africa
Joseph George. African Literature in Understanding Contemporary Africa
Jostein (1991). Sophie’s World
Krasiski, Ignacy (1776). The Adventure of Nicholas Experience
Ligotti, Thomas. Literature is Entertainment or it is Nothing: An Interview with Thomas Ligotti by Dr Bentham (8/13/2005)
Obafemi, Olu. 50 years of Nigerian Literature (2012)
Omotosho, Kole. Theatrical into Theater
Osofisan, Femi. Midnight Hotels
Osofisan, Femi. Yungba-Yungba and the Dance Contest
Owonibi, Sola. The Political Consciousness in African Literature: A Critical Analysis of Selected Plays of Femi Osofisan: Emerging Perspective.
Oriakhi, Braimah. Introduction to Theater and Drama
Poe, Allen. Poetic Principle
Pope, Alexander. An Essay on Criticism (1711)
Rotimi, Ola. Grip Am
Rotimi, Ola. Our Husband has Gone Mad Again
Wehmier, Sally. Oxford Advance Learner Dictionary
Wimsatt. W. K. with Monroe Beardsley (1954). The Verbal Icon: Studies in the Meaning of Poetry. University of Kentucky Press.
www.worldliteratureforum.com
Wikipedia

I was reading, some time ago, of a young man who had just come out of a saloon, and had mounted his horse. As a certain deacon passed on his way to church, he followed and said:

“Deacon, can you tell me how far it is to hell?”

The deacon’s heart was pained to think that a young man like that should talk so lightly; but he passed on and said nothing. When he came round the corner to the church, he found that the horse had thrown that young man, and he was dead. You, too, may be nearer the judgment than you think.

A story has gone the round of the American press that made a great impression upon me as a father. A father took his little child out into the field one Sabbath, and, it being a hot day, lie lay down under a beautiful shady tree. The little child ran about gathering wild flowers and little blades of grass, and coming to its father and saying: “Pretty! pretty!” At last the father fell asleep, and while he was sleeping the little child wandered away. When he awoke, his first thought was: “Where is my child?” He looked all around, but he could not see him. He shouted at the top of his voice, but all he heard was the echo. Running to a little hill, he looked around and shouted again. No response! Then going to a precipice at some distance, he looked down, and there, upon the rocks and briars, he saw the mangled form of his loved child. He rushed to the spot, took up the lifeless corpse, and hugged it to his bosom, and accused himself of being the murderer of his child. While he was sleeping his child had wandered over the precipice. I thought as I read that, what a picture of the church of God! How many fathers and mothers, how many Christian men and women, are sleeping now while their children wander over the terrible precipice right into the bottomless pit! Father, mother, where is your boy to-night?

Peace Declared

When France and England were at war once a French vessel had gone off on a long whaling voyage. When they came back, the crew were short of water, and being near an English port, they wanted to get water; but they were afraid that they would be taken prisoners if they went into that port. Some people in the port saw their signal of distress, and sent word that they need not be afraid, that the war was over, and peace had been declared. But they couldn’t make those sailors believe it, and they didn’t dare to go into port, although they were out of water. At last they made up their minds that they had better go in and surrender their cargo and their lives to their enemies rather than perish at sea without water; and when they got in, they found out that what had been told them was true, that peace had been declared.

There are a great many people who don’t believe the glad tidings that peace has been made by Jesus Christ between God and man, but it is true.

YOU JUST HAVE TO READ THIS This is a true story of Mother’s Sacrifice during the China Earthquake. After the Earthquake had subsided, when the rescuers reached the ruins of a young woman’s house, they saw her dead body through the cracks. But her pose was somehow strange that she knelt on her knees like a person was worshiping; her body was leaning forward, and her two hands were supporting by anobject. The collapsed house had crashed her back and her head. With so many difficulties, the leader of the rescuer team put his hand through an arrow gap on the wall to reach the woman’s body. He was hoping that this woman could be still alive. However, the cold and stiff body told him that she had passed away for sure. He and the rest of the team left this house and were going to search the next collapsed building. For some reasons, the team leader was driven by a compelling force to go back to the ruin house of the dead woman. Again, he knelt down and used his had through the narrow cracks to search the little space under the dead body. Suddenly, he screamed with excitement,” A child! There is a child! “The whole team worked together; carefully they removed the piles of ruined objects around the dead woman. There was a 3 months old little boy wrapped in a flowery blanket under his mother’s dead body. Obviously, the woman had made an ultimate sacrifice for saving her son. When her house was falling, she used her body to make a cover to protect her son. The little boy was still sleeping peacefully when the team leader picked him up. The medical doctor came quickly to exam the little boy. After he opened the blanket, he saw a cell phone inside the blanket. There was a text message on the screen. It said,” If you can survive, you must remember that I love you.” This cell phone was passing around from one hand to another. Every body that read the message wept. ” If you can survive, you must remember that I love you.” Such is the mother’s love for her child!! "If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!" - Matthew 7:11

THE RACE
This is a poem written by an unknown person. It
tells the story of a young boy competing in a
race he desperately wants to win. But He has
fallen down three times. And each time his dad
has urged him to get up and win the race. Read
these lines slowly.

THE RACE
Defeat! He lay there silently, a tear dropped from
his eye.
"There's no sense running anymore___ three
strikes,
I'm out___why try?
The will to rise had disappeared, all hope had
fled away,
So far behind, so error prone, closer all the way.
"I've lost, so what's the use" he thought,
I'll live with my disgrace."
But them he thought about his dad who
soon he'd have to face.
"Get up", an echo sounded low,
"Get up and take your place.
You were not meant for failure here,
so get up and win the race."
With borrowed will, "Get up," it said
"You haven't lost all,
For winning is not more than this___
to rise each time you fall"

So up he rose to win once more, and with a new
commit,
He resolved that win or lose, at least he wouldn't
quit.
So far behind the others now, the most he'd ever
been,
Still he gave it all he had and ran as though to
win.
Three times he'd fallen stumbling,
three times he rose again,
Too far behind to hope to win, he still ran to the
end.

They cheered the winning runner as he crossed,
first place,
Head high and proud and happy; no falling, no
disgrace.
But when the fallen youngster crossed the line,
last place,
The crowd gave him greater cheer for
finishing the race.
And even though he came in last,
with head bowed low, unproud;
You would have thought he won the race,
to listen to the crowd.
And to his dad he sadly said, "I didn't do well."
"To me, you won," his father said.
"You rose each time you fell."

And now when things seems dark and hard
and difficult to face,
The memory of that little boy helps me in my
race.
For all of life is like that race,
with ups and downs and all,
And all you have to do to win____is rise each
time you fall.
"Quit! Give up, you're beaten," they still shout in
my face.
But another voice within me says,
"Get up and win that race"

_AUTHOR UNKNOWN
If you have read this far, you've done a good job.
Some probably ignored it because it's like a long
piece., my friend and reader,
"since we have so great a cloud of witnesses
surrounding us, let us also lay aside every
encumbrance, and the sin which so entangles us,
and let us run with endurance the race that is
set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus.
(HEBREWS 12:1-2)

MY DEATH IS MY JOY~
"How I cherish the day of death,
Like the golden rays of my breath.
For this my soul awaits,
The opening of the pearly gates.
Though it's stormy here in the open sea,
Yet, my soul long to see,
The pleasures under the living tree.

"Write not my name
On this windy sand of time.
Away thou frame
Of adorned crime.
Treasure me not in earthly memory,
For I leave not for the world a new story;
Nor a voice in the hall of fame.
I esteem the tranquil life
Bequested me by my Saviour;
Amid the vale of maelstrom and strife,
Because if to my sacred tomb I'm gone,
And my whole part I've done.
There shall I see the saintly convoy,
An entourage of angels,
Escorting me beyond hell.
To the Man who love me before the world was
born!"

My prayer is that we all finish strong. Yeah, we
are known up there. We're

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