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Book Review

Oseloka Obaze

selonnes@aol.com

  Saturday 8 November 2003

Women of My Era

Kema Chikwe

 (ISBN: 987-055-805-5; Owerri, Nigeria: Prime Time Ltd., 2003; pp. 266, Price, Not Stated)

In what appears to be a mission statement and purpose of intent, the Dr. Kema Chikwe states categorically in the opening lines of her preface, “Women of My Era is not just a book.  It is a re-enactment of the realities of women today and I am part of it.  I have a deep passion for the plight of women of this era who have, for a long time, grumbled under the combined pressure of oppression and domination at the family and societal levels.”  If this was the sole and noble cause for which this tedious journey of writing was embarked on, then it is laudable.  It is equally laudable that a serving minister-- which Dr. Kema Chikwe was until May 2003 -- would find time to write and contribute to the body of published works on and in Nigeria, the subject matter notwithstanding.

In his forward to Women of My Era, President Olusegun Obasanjo noted that the book “appears to be a pictorial profile of women, capable of arousing a sense of nostalgia in all and a dose of positive inspiration to younger women who are likely to be convinced to keep the fire blazing high”.  The book evidently, enjoys the full support of the Nigerian officialdom.  However, at first glance, this book, seems to be as purported, a tale and study of the accomplishments of great Nigerian women.  Indeed, many accomplished Nigerian women are featured or covered, even if perfunctorily.  But then, the author admits, the book is “compendious in nature but in no way exhaustive or encyclopedic”. 

A true critic’s onerous credibility litmus test demands calling a spade a spade.  It therefore, merits pointing out from the outset of this review that Women of My Era falls squarely into the genre of stealth autobiography, in which the writer appropriates the coveted membership of a distinguished but non-structured informal group.  Generally, each supposed or featured member of the group is highly accomplished in their own right, which invariably complements very well the self-edification the book is meant to serve in the first instance.  But such stealthy attempts to self-insinuate into an eclectic but noble pedigree, (common with writers, musicians and actors) ought not, and in this case does not diminish the books substantive contribution to the core issues that it seeks to address.

This thirteen-chapter book opens with “The Growing Consciousness: Women Activism and Gender Balance” and ends on the positive note of “New Optimism”.  The eleven chapters sandwiched in-between, are variously serious and fleeting discourses of such issues as “Education and Empowerment”, “Women In Power”, “Women and Their Environment,”   “The Better Life Programme,”  “The Intensification of Gender Friendliness Pursuits” and others.

All through this book, there is clearly a diligent and honest effort to interlace the existing realities and challenges facing Nigerian women, a majority of who are poor and largely illiterate with internationally identified remedies, mostly United Nations assistance programs for women.  Naturally, women’s health, poverty alleviation, and efforts to generally end different forms of discrimination against women are featured.  In the historical context, the early efforts at the emancipation of women in Nigeria and the activists of that era are well acknowledged.  But in contrast, the achievements of their successors who are indeed from the author’s generation and her contemporaries, pale against the more tedious cultural, social, economic, and political challenges faced by women activists like Funmilayo Ransome Kuti, Margaret Ekpo, Keziah Fashina and others, who blazed the trail for female political ascendancy in Nigeria.

The book pays an undeserved tribute to latter day quasi-government social programs like The Better Life Program.  As desirable and commendable as the intent of such women-oriented social programs championed in the 1908s and 1990s by wives of Nigerian leaders might have been, in summary, they all proved less stellar than they were touted to be, in terms of their relief, developmental delivery accomplishments and continuity competencies. It is common knowledge that most Nigerian women considered the Better Life Program to be shambolic.  This may explain why its buzz title, “Better Life of Ruler Women” was lampooned as “Better Life for Ruling Women”, a reference to the women in leadership, who engaged in endless jamborees at the expense of the Nigerian taxpayers under the pretext of actualizing women’s emancipation.

It would be mindlessly mischievous to suggest that these “Better Life” and “Family Support” program were entirely useless, of no merit, and therefore lacking in added value.  Considered as a means of wealth redistribution, they merely served the purpose of trickle-down policies.  In reality, the resources meant for the program were well distributed at the top echelon of the programs’ leadership than they were at the grassroots where they were most needed.  It is not inconceivable, that there might have been some disciples of these programs who truly believed in their efficacy as vehicles of social development and retooling of a traumatized national female population of women.  But such disciples were in the minority.  Most, in time, became disillusioned and disgruntled as the smoke screen over administrative frivolities, profligacy, and official malfeasance within the programs lifted.  As Dr. Chikwe rightly observed, although in numerical strength Nigerian women constitute 50% of the population as per the 1991 census, 3-5 % of them was classified as poor. This percentage, if not a higher number, is today still classified as living below the poverty line, despite the author’s acknowledgement that Nigerian “women have come a long way in the political power game”.  The tangible dividends of such political emancipation for Nigerian women remain elusive in the book and as it does in reality.

Taken purely from an academic perspective, Women of My Era is well written and has it vantage point in serving as a reference on women issues, given the dearth of published contemporary works by Nigerian women and insiders on these issues. It is complements Professor Bolanle Awe’s Nigerian Women- A Historical Perspective.  The fullness of data, reference tables and pertinent bibliography on women materials and tables makes Women of My Era a vital tool of comparative analysis and retrospective assessment.  Another salutary strength of the book is proprietary -- the fact that no one ought to or should be more qualified to tell the story of the travails and accomplishments of Nigerian women than Nigerian women themselves.  And there is no question that Dr. Chikwe in her personal right personifies the Nigerian woman.  But Nigerian women, who wish to undertake such tasks, must in the first instance agree on what the common cause story line and priorities ought to be, or risk accusations of writing self-serving and politicized accounts.  In this context, I suspect that a rigorous critique of this book and its essence by a broad-based panel of Nigerian women will elicit divergent conclusions, the compelling need for gender camaraderie, political correctness and espirit de corps notwithstanding.

I was curious about the selectivity of the Nigerian women featured in the book, as there were some obviously stark omissions.  The selection seems skewed (thankfully not tribally), as if to suggest that only those who were politically or professionally inclined were worthy of recognition.  This ought not to be the case.  A greater wealth and economic clout that has sustained Nigerian families and industries and promoted women’s education, are vested in illiterate but mostly powerful and rich women traders in the big markets of Onitsha, Lagos, Ibadan, Benin-City, Kano and Calabar.  These cadres of merchant women, the so-called “Cash Madams”, and their contribution to women and society were regrettably glossed over in Women of My Era, in favor of their television-hugging and media-savvy, professional and white-collar urban contemporaries.  With that slight, went the acknowledgement that most of these “Cash Madams” had graduated into the wealth and labor creating ranks of entrepreneurs.  Missing also from the line up, were the most visible Nigerian women television personalities – the like of Hawa Ahmed, Grace Egbagbe, Ronke Ayuba, Augusta Maduegbuna, Sienne Allwell-Brown Opiah, Julie Coker, and Funmi Odubekun. One is left to wonder whether those in these too categories were left because their vocational calling was deemed too pedestrian.

In the closing chapter of the book, the author introduced and strongly commended the Obasanjo administration’s  “New National Policy on Women”, of which she was one of the facilitators as well as beneficiaries.  Regrettably, she omitted including the policy paper or a synoptic outline as an annex in the book, for those who might care to understand the policy. This was an unwitting failure in promoting women’s issues.   Ironically, Nigeria has never been bereft of workable policies; the greater difficulty has always been in the faithful implementation of the finer points and details of any public policy.  If tradition holds true, this might very well be the fate of this new policy on women.  As Dr. Chikwe candidly admits, “The Nigerian women are still very much below the margins of the socio-economic and political integration.  Their fate has been adversely affected by prolonged military rule in Nigeria.”  This much is true also of the Nigerian nation as a whole.

Another key selling point that is missing in this book is the stark absence of policy recommendations from an insider who has a grasp of the workings and trappings of government and challenges faced by women in governance.  Dr Chikwe having served as the first female minister in two key ministries -- Transport and Aviation – and having been a victim of Nigerian media trenchant jeremiad, must have gleaned the impact of power dynamics in the male-dominated Federal Executive Council on women and women issues. She would have done well to address some of them without necessarily burning her bridges or candles at both ends.  Equally glossed over, is the role of women in the judiciary and the fact that there are increasingly more women in the legal profession, but far lesser number in the category of those chosen as Senior Advocates of Nigeria. The Judiciary remains an area where Nigerian women a can make a discernible impact by giving added impetus to the rule of law, given their growing predominance and the conventional wisdom that Nigerian female judges and magistrates are a lot stricter and less malleable than their male counterparts. Are women poised to redeem Nigeria’s floundering Third Estate -- the Judiciary?  This is an open-ended question for now and one that might have benefited from a cursory consideration in Women of My Era. 

Women of My Era is certainly much more than a literary entremets of a treatise on Nigerian women. Dr. Chikwe’s effort is therefore commendable. Her book serves as a challenge to her counterparts in public and private lives to lend their respective voices and reason to the cause of Nigerian women, no matter the motivating factors.  All said Women of My Era ranks low on the details of Nigerian women’s historical, progressive, developmental and personal achievements. Of the seven accomplishing women whose photographs were featured on pages 98 and 99 of the book, who are firsts in their respective rights (including first Nigerian female Army General and first female pilot), none got a single written line on their accomplishments.  They seem to have served merely as attractive page fillers.  Such a blatantly selective ploy does not serve women’s interest and causes well since they leave a credibility gap as to the true purpose of the publication.  Such exclusivity is another form of oppression against the very women, whose cause the book is meant to serve. Furthermore, it highlights the distending and insufferable dichotomies among women and women groups that are frequently exploited by the Nigerian men folk.

I am much inclined to believe that Women of My Era was in some sense written with a modicum of hope that it would “sensitize women at all social strata to aim for the highest education, business, politics and public and privates sectors”. If that is the case, the book has met its added-value goal. However, here is the bottom line: if you are curiously looking for an exhaustive account of the lives of great Nigerian women and the challenges they have faced, then this book is not your one-in-all guide that will provide the desirable and reliable answers. Women of My Era is however worth having as a reference for women who served in public offices, but in time might be forgotten or become mere footnotes in reference to the positions they once occupied. 

To purchase a copy or obtain information on Women of My Era write to:

Prime Time Ltd at Email: helumphltd2@hotmail.com or call (234) 803-350-1016

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