THE FISHERMEN- a Review
Fast-paced The Fishermen by Chigozie Obioma is a gory tale. Four brothers are caught in an intriguing web of premature freedom, siblings’ love/hero-worship and heartbreaking tragedy fertilised by mistrust sown by the words of a madman.
Obioma spins a web of tales reminiscent of William Golding’s Lord of the Flies.
It is about what happens to young boys when there’s no adult overseeing them. It is a story of absentee father with a madman at the centre who drags a whole family down a hole.
The consequences of the absence of a father in the life of growing boys, present the skeleton on which the author moulds his story.
When Mr. Eme Agwu, a staff of Central Bank of Nigeria, is transferred from his base in Akure, the capital of Ondo State in western Nigeria, to Yola, the capital of Adamawa State in northern Nigeria, his fatherly covering is removed from his family.
His four growing boys between the ages of 15 and nine are left unattended to explore their innate adventurous spirits. His wife, an illiterate trader endowed with reproductive prowess and no brains to raise children, laments her inability at the beginning of the story. “What kind of a job takes a man away from bringing up his growing sons? Even if I have seven hands, how would I be able to care for these children alone?”
So, after her husband leaves for Yola, Mrs. Agwu doesn’t change her business routine, she continues as before, leaving home in the morning and returning at 7pm. Her child-raising style is threatening the children with reporting them to their father who is donkey miles away at Yola.
So the boys who are alone at home several hours a day, begin to venture out of the security of their house to seek adventure. An evil river beckons to them where they encounter a madman whose predictions brought tragedy and chaos to a once peaceful home.
A secondary theme of punishment for wrong-doing is also explored in the story.
Obioma leads his readers through series of events that show the madman pay for terrorizing the city of Akure with his predictions and sexual violations. As he brings pains, sorrows and tragedy to Akure residents, he suffers the punishment of death at the hands of those he wrongs most. This sense of punishment for wrongdoing continues to be explored in the novel until Abulu’s killers are brought to book.
Although Abulu is a madman, he’s also a terrorist who seems to enjoy inflicting pains on others – he dies the same way – his killers inflict pains on him with fishing hooks until he dies – he pays for his deeds. His killers also pay for their wrong deeds because in a civilized society, no one should take laws into their hands!
The strengths of this novel lie mainly in the themes: absentee father, warning adults: ‘Don’t leave your children and wards home alone!’ Then the secondary theme of punishment for wrongdoing – it is sure. Other aspects lend strength to the story, like love between siblings, it’s palpable, empathic.
Another strong point is Ben going to jail at the end, paying for the crime of taking the life of another human being, even though a madman. This end is merciful as it brings cleansing; Ben’s incarceration brings purity to the whole family. But I think the beginning of that purity is the killing of Abulu. The people of Akure are released from bondage by Abulu’s murder.
The rubrics are apt: fishermen, river, egrets, etc. Then, there’s a growing up; everybody receives a change, a maturity at the end.
Mr. Agwu matures into knowing that the cane is not more important than employing communication. Mrs. Agwu going through series of tragedies matures into snapping out of her silliness. She snaps out of grief more quickly now and is denser.
The author’s treatment of the little ones, Nkem and David as the egrets, is most appropriate – they sleep through the whole ordeal and emerge ‘after the war (tragedies)’ like a newly furled petals, fresh, innocent. Obembe is also a changed person and has grown up.
Language is another plus for the novel. Obioma uses rich imageries as vehicles to transport his readers luxuriously through the story, banishing boredom and ambiguity. He blends words and ideas almost perfectly. He establishes himself as a wordsmith early in the novel with such imageries as: “Yola – a town in the north that was a camel distance of more than one thousand miles away.” Then, “When the two ventricles of our home – our father and our mother – held silence as the ventricles of the heart retain blood, we could flood the house if we poked them.” And, “By nightfall on Sunday, crumbs of information began to fall from Mother’s soliloquy like tots of feathers from a richly plummed bird.”
Nonetheless, there are weaknesses in the novel too. These are found in Obioma’s vernacular use; in his making a madman to have the presence of mind to know that his prediction is delayed and he goes to the Agwus’ house to reinforce it! To me, this is carrying imagination too far – is Abulu a madman or an evil man?
Then, there is the issue of a madman with sexual prowess who rapes every female he sees; including his mother! I am weeping right now – even for all the things innocent boys passed through in this novel. How did we get to this highly insensitive point as African story tellers? This idea may present a good laugh to the men-folk as they gather in western pubs or African palm-wine bars, but it’s repulsive to African women and our children. It’s a taboo even as a hidden thought in anyone’s mind. Then there’s romancing the Madonna, it’s tasteless.
This brings us to the issue of Content in the Nigerian Novel. What are our values as Nigerians, Africans? Who are our target audience/readers? Are we losing our sensitivity, that thing that makes us Africans? Are there no more things too sensitive to write about? For our information, our young children are reading the books. What they read is shaping their thoughts, their values. 14 year olds, 15, 16, they are reading Half of a Yellow Sun with all the sex. They are reading The Fishermen where a madman rapes his mother, innocent family drink well water with decayed human flesh!
There’s the use of vernacular in the novel. The Igbo dialect used is not Abia since Mr. Agwu is from Abia State.
A little research would have fixed this and the issue of non-Pentecostal activities in the novel. Mrs. Agwu is a Pentecostal who worships with the Assemblies of God Church – nothing portrays that. She is not raising her children at all; talk less in the way of the Lord. Pentecostals do not take curses lightly – they engage prayers and fasting to nullify them and they are tenacious. Mrs. Agwu’s pastor prays for the soul of the dead! Pentecostals don’t pray for the dead, they pray for God to comfort the bereaved.
This is the most unpleasant novel I’ve read.
As we seek the accolades and awards, let’s seek to save young minds that read us and portray African values for our younger generation.