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Elliot Ziwira @ The Book Store
“The African is corrupt through and through . . . They are all corrupt,” says Mr Green in Chinua Achebe’s “No Longer at Ease” (1963).

When corruption becomes an intrinsic part of life then society’s moral fabric is shred, not so much for its frailty but because nudity becomes fashionable. Because resources are scarce, the little that is available is amassed by a few in a rat race that smacks of deceit, deification, callosity and individualism as demagogies take up slots in the speeding gravy train that spews impoverishing fumes in its wake.

Corruption breeds animosity, anger, fear, frustration and despondency which are fertile grounds for civil strife. The heinous phenomenon is not a new thing for it is as old as humanity itself, what is only of concern now is the level to which it has grown, especially in Africa. Asking for a bribe or offering it to extend favours or gain them is now in vogue. Society has become so shameless that it swallows its own vomit just for the feel of it.

But dear gentle reader, have Africans always been corrupt? With the new dispensations following hard upon protracted liberation struggles across the African continent as well as peaceful negotiations for independence from colonial powers, one would have hoped that independence would bring freedom both from the imperialistic machinations and generally humanity’s selfish tendencies. There could have been hope, if hope is what one usually sees at the dawn of each new day, but a close analysis of Chinua Achebe’s “No Longer at Ease” spells doom for the continent, especially when one considers the setting of the novel.

The protagonist, Obi Okonkwo – who is 26 years old – is an interesting character whose tragedy is that he is an African born to African parents who believe that as Christians they must shun whatever is prescribed by the traditional customs of their people, yet remaining selectively ensconced in the same beliefs. Hypocritically preferring to support those customs that justify what they want. As a remnant of a dysfunctional and disengaged African family that seeks solutions from spirituality, Obi struggles to locate himself in the national biography.

When he is asked to tell a folktale in class he stutters, stammers and weeps as none comes out of his mouth much to the delight of his classmates who burst into delirious laughter. His failure to tell a folk story signifies the dearth of African values because his father forbids his mother, who is a good storyteller to impart anything to their children through folklore because they are Christians.

There is hope, however, when Obi’s mother Hannah Okonkwo defies her husband and tells him a folk-story which he relates in class much to the delight of his mates. Obi is intelligent and always tops his class which makes him win the hearts of many; and subsequently he gets a scholarship courtesy of the Progressive Union of Umuofia which raises £800 for him to study law in England.

There is much hope for Nigeria, for Umuofia his home town, and for Africa in general as Western education is considered a passport into the European terrain through “European posts”. However, Obi decides to study English instead of law as his people back home hoped. A close analysis of Obi’s character and the way he betrays his family, community and nation reveals that his tragedy stems from both nature and nurture.

Nature places a burden on him as an African who despite his struggle to locate himself in the discourse that shapes his people who believe that “an only palm-tree does not get lost in the fire”. Naturally, he is still expected to be “the big tree” on whose back “smaller trees sit to reach the sun”. His father Isaac Okonkwo’s conversion to Christianity against his father’s will captured in “Things Fall Apart” (1958) plays havoc on Obi’s well-being as he has to live his life through the shadow of his Catechism.

As nature would have it his parents bore four daughters in a row which makes them anxious and crestfallen, thus when Obi was born they named him Obiajulu —“the mind at last is at rest”. In most patriarchal societies a boy child is said to be the inheritor of his father’s estate as well as the future head of the family, which places a burden on Obi as the only boy child in his family.

Through flashback, constant time shifts and fracturing of the plot Chinua Achebe adeptly explores the natural traits that shape Obi’s character which he has no control over. His procrastinating nature as well as his alienation can be examined through his father’s foibles.

Unlike his grandfather Okonkwo in “Things Fall Apart”, who is violently inclined to take action without putting much thought into the aftermath, Obi, like Hamlet in William Shakespeare’s “Hamlet”, delays action by dwelling much on thought such that by the time he decides to take action he would have been overtaken by events. It is largely his idealism which spells doom for him.

Obi’s decision to study English instead of law so as to be able to defend his oppressed people who starved themselves to raise money for his studies abroad, is as deceitful as it is individualistic. By studying English he sides with the imperialist against his people whose way of life is enshrined in the folktales of their existence as well as their rich proverbs.

An only boy child Obi is nurtured in such a way that he believes in the individualistic nature of Man, his overreliance on spirituality as well as his religious intolerance.

As a senior civil servant Obi comes face to face with the ugly nature of corruption which at first he believes to be a result of “the so-called experienced men at the top”. To him those who overstay in control of the civil service are responsible for the collapse of the civil society because corruption would have become part of them, having risen to the top of power echelons on the strength of backhanders and not intellect or skill.

The protagonist abhors corruption in a country where it is in vogue, which earns him insults from many corners. Most of his countrymen believe that for one to get a favour one naturally has to offer a bribe, even where it may not be necessary.

As the secretary to the Scholarship Board, Obi remains steadfast in his resolution that he would never accept anything; money, sex or other favours, from anyone, kin and kith included, to give favours or preference, and for that he becomes the beacon of hope for a new dispensation. Indeed, Western education can transmute the African’s coarseness into refined hope and “promise” so it seems.

However, the materialistic nature of urban life which is a colonial creation impedes hope as the rat race’s mark is set on gain. As a senior civil servant with a “European post” the protagonist swims in affluence as he gets a brand new “pleasure car”, moves into an opulent neighbourhood where he is the only person of colour in a block of flats courtesy of the government. With the changing of circles Obi soon begins to bite more than he could chew.

His failure to disentangle himself from the spiralling debts that threaten to choke him, which he could have avoided in the first place by cutting the cloth to his measurement, his lack of action pertaining to Clara, his girlfriend whom his people and parents despise as an osu or outcast because of her “doubtful ancestry” and his decision not to attend his mother’s funeral all conspire to compound his suffering. He becomes a victim of familial, cultural and communal ties which restrict him and frown at his love for Clara.

The death of his mother, Clara’s disappearance from his life and the warped nature of his individuality lead to his succumbing to corruption as he begrudgingly accepts his first bribe, £50 to be precise, from a wealthy Nigerian businessman who wants his son to get a scholarship to study in England notwithstanding the fact that he could afford it since “the scholarship is for poor people”.

Because corruption is cancerous, it spreads until the entire body is afflicted if the initial entry point is not cut out. So deep into the corrupt gravy soup is Obi’s body that he can no longer extricate himself; he could only go deeper until he drowns.

When he is finally arrested in a snare with a decoy of only £20, Mr Justice William Galloway, the High Court Judge of Lagos and the Southern Cameroons, wonders: “I cannot comprehend how a young man of your education and brilliant promise could have done this.”

But Mr Green Obi’s boss, who has always been skeptical of “educated Africans” says, “I am all for equality and all that … but equality won’t alter facts”, because “the African is corrupt through and through”. Could he really be that far from the truth when corruption becomes a way of life and a bane on progress to the Motherland?

We really are no longer at ease with our corrupt selves as the speeding gravy train passing the graveyard of our hopes blows its deathly whistle.