KWENU! Our culture, our future

Friday, November 28, 2003

Amy Raphael in “Almost famous”

The Observer (UK), Sunday, November 3, 2002

I have not been to movies in a while. I really do not go to movies that often. It is not just the exorbitant expense; I hate the stench of buttered popcorn, and the slurping of soda on crackling cold cubes gets my gizzard. I do not usually write about movies. I guess you must be a movie buff to tackle that track of writing. However, since the explosion of Nollywood -- Nigeria-movie industry, I have been meaning to delve into that terrain. When I saw “$1” -- a very hilarious movie, my interest was spiced. Unfortunately, I have never had the time to pen a review of the wonderful comedy production.

I have read about the new movie “Dirty Pretty Things.” I didn’t think it would be so extraordinary to make me want to see it in the theater. I planned to own a DVD copy. By mid September, someone wrote about it in Uwandiigbo, an Igbo language forum on the Internet. The movie starred a Briton of obvious Igbo parentage, Chiwetel Ejiofor. The issue was not the movie itself but the first name of the undisputed star. Was that his given name? Was he trying to Anglicize it? Does it really matter? Should it detract from the world-acclaimed performance?

PRETTY THINGS

I have seen many movies in theatres; I have watched many more at home. The difference? In theatres, the popcorns popped and the sodas sizzle. Whichever way you prefer to watch, “Dirty Pretty Things” is worth watching. The movie features Chiwetel Ejiofor as “Okwe,” Sergi López as “Sneaky,” and Sophie Okonedo as “Juliette”; Audrey Tautou plays “Senay” (Okwe’s love interest), and Benedict Wong played “Guo Yi.” Directed by Stephen Frears on the script of Steven Knight, the movie strikes me as a powerful love story and a serious social commentary. I was glued to the wonderful performance of Maazi Ejiofor.

Here is the story: Okwe is a Nigerian medical doctor who immigrates to London in search of a dream. As is usual in Europe and in America, he takes up menial jobs to stay above water. He works round-the-clock: a minicab driver by day and, at night, a receptionist in a seedy hotel. Senay, an asylum seeker from Turkey, works in the same hotel as a chambermaid. Both are working without legal papers. Deportation is only a handshake away. The few sleeping moments Okwe gets, he crashes on Senay’s couch.

DIRTY THINGS

Working in the front-desk, check-in counter of a no-star hotel, Okwe meets Senay, a chambermaid of Turkish extraction. They both have big dreams: Okwe wants to get his papers in order, to start practicing and getting the big bucks; Senay wants to regularize her asylum status, to migrate to the Apple City – New York, New York and sit on top of the world.

Dreams, dreams, dreams… until Okwe discovers a freshly harvested heart of a human being in one of the hotel bathrooms. One thing leads to another and he discovers an international ring marketing body organs. And the hotel manager Sneaky was knee-deep in the selling of freshly harvested human organs for petty cash and phony passports. This is dirty, to say the least; it is both horrendous and highly immoral.

When Sneaky discovers that Okwe is a qualified surgeon, albeit not yet practicing in Britain, he tries to cajole him into joining the gruesome trade, the trade of helping society make dirty things look pretty. What to do? From here the story take a life of its own with some seriousness laced with humor. Okwe and Senay fall in love, first for convenience. You must see the film to appreciate the thought-provoking message and the pretty powerful performance of Chiwetel Ejiofor.

BACKGROUND

Chiwetel is not new to the scene, but this is his first major role in a movie. He discharged his duties with a tour-de-force performance that has won him international acclaim. He has featured in Spielberg’s Amistad and in various British movies and plays. His performance in Dirty Pretty Things is that fork in the road to stardom: He will either go up or moved down from here. The choice is clearly his and, with some luck, he will get there. He knows it: “It's funny because you either end up chasing bugs across the galaxy or you’re in some deeply emotionally moving film. I certainly don't believe in limiting myself to one oeuvre; I don't want to be seen as a serious young actor. I'm happy to have a go at anything.” If he could do “anything” as well as he did in this movie, then a British Denzil Washington is born of Igbo-Nigerian parentage!

According to press reports, Chiwetel Ejiofor was born of Nigerian parents in Forest Gate, a popular East London quarter. His parents’ background did not prepare him for a career in the movies: His father is a medical doctor; his mother, a pharmacist. He attended Dulwich College, where he started acting in school plays. He took to acting and stayed focused throughout his school years. He attended the London Academy of Music and Dramatic Art. At 19, he got the small part as a translator in the movie Amistad. The success of Mr. Ejiofor is in the ease with which he understood Okwe. He is able to develop a bond with the character because he has been to Nigeria on several occasions visiting grandparents and uncles and aunts and cousins. He said so himself: “I don't think I could have played Okwe if I hadn’t related to him. He is somehow stunted. Somehow he doesn’t exist. He is damaged psychologically. I don’t know if he’s a character you can invent as an actor.” Any Nigerian immigrant, the professional especially,  knows the feeling.

OF NAMES AND FORMS

The name “Chiwetel” is obviously an Igbo name meaning “God brought (it)” -- an expression of the Igbo philosophy that children are gifts from God. In essence, it means “Divine”; ditto, “Osinachi” (o si na Chi = it comes from God) -- which a female would bear. In standard, written Igbo, the idea would be conveyed as “Chi wetere.” The dialect suggests that the parents are probably not from around the Imo River basin, or they would have called him “Chiwetere.” If from north of the river, then “Chiwetelu” is understandable. So it is likely that the “u” was dropped; or, as Uwandiigbo forum member Loolo pointed out, “the letter ‘l’ [was] attached at the end perhaps to anglicize it or to conceal its Africanness.” Since almost every Igbo name ends with a vowel, and we know now that he never tried to Anglicize his names, the former is most likely the case.

Shortening of names is common amongst the Kwa-language group, even as parents strive to give only names that are “not too tough to pronounce.” So we ask: What could be as simple as “Nkechi” or “Nkiru”? No, even those are considered “too tough”; so we hear: “Neky,” “Nikky,” or “Nkii” (written ‘Nky’). If you are “Ndidi,” prepare for “Nedeedi”!

Many Igbo names are not long nor difficult to pronounce. Take my last name: I fought so hard to teach all and sundry that the last “e” is pronounced I resorted to accenting the last “é.” I have done everything except add “h” to my last name, as we see in “Edeh,” “Eneh,” “Ezeh,” “Ubah,” “Udeh,” “Umeh,” etc. I won’t add the “h,” even if nothing else helps.

You still hear “Dr. Inn” used by those who have been corrected before! If I charged a quarter for each time I had to correct someone for mispronouncing my three-letter last name, I would have retired to Cayman Island by now as a multi-dollar-millionaire.

NICKING NAMES

The Anglicization and shortening of Igbo names are not new. There is an entire Enugu of Ene, and many of them do not mean the same thing when spelt out; ditto, “Agu,” “Eze,” “Ude,” “Onyia,” “Aneke,” etc. At some point, anyone with “Chukwu” in his name was called “Chuks.” Eventually it became too common, and many adults hated the perceived childishness of the sound. Igbo people hate too-common names, which is why Ngozi is no longer hip! Many moved to the non-Chukwu parts of their names. “Ikechukwu” became “Iké,” “Aikay” or “Iyke”; Chukwuemeka became “Emeka,” “Emmy,” “Emmie,” “Mecca”; Uchechukwu became “Uche,” Utchay,” or “U.C.”; Chukwudi became “Chu” or “Chudi”; Ifeanychukwu became “Ifeanyi,” then “Ifie” or “Ify” (or “Tiffany” -- if a girl!); Okwuchukwu became “Okwie” or “Okwy” -- no, not “Okwé” (that sounds like a trickster or a game); Oluchukwu became “Olu” (with a Yoruba pronunciation) or “Ollie” (with an American accent); Onyinyechukwu became “Onyii”; etc.

Girls with “Chi” in their names (Chika, Chinyere, etc.) stayed with “Chy” or “Chi-chi” until that too became common. They too moved to fancier forms: “Chinaenye” becomes “Neenyé”; Chidimma becomes “ChiDi” (pronounced ‘chi-die’); Chideraa becomes “Oderaa” or “Deraa”; Chinaedu becomes “Needu”; Chinonso became “Nonso”; Chinaelo became “Neelo;” Toochi became “Tochai,” or simply “Tóó”…. It goes on.

CHEWY?

On “Chiwetel,” I don't know the details of the given name, but I will bet the form is actually his given name. Many Igbo names do not mean the same thing nor are they necessarily written in full, even when they appear or sound alike. For example, if a child is named “Chika,” it could mean a thousand and one things. Impossible? Think again. “Chika” on its own means that “God is supreme” — as in Nneka (“mother is supreme”). But it could also be a mere short form of say: "Chi ka o dili"  (It is God’s to decide….), “Chi ka mmadu” (God is higher than mere mortals), “Chi ka o di n’aka” (It is in God’s hands) “Chi ka m ma” (God is the one I know), “Chi ka mma” (God the most benevolent), etc.  Parents who call their daughters “Chinaenye” (God gives…) and “Chinyere” (God gave…) are saying the same thing but differently. Beyond that, no one really knows what God gave or was giving them. Is it “ndu” (life), “ego” (money), “aku” (wealth), “nri” (food) or “nwa” (child)?

Only the name-giver knows exactly what s/he really meant to convey. Name-giving is a personal matter. You see, God gave and still gives a whole lot of things, from life itself to things with which life is preserved.  As Iroko pointed out in the forum, Mr. Ejiofor “has never in person or in interviews attempted to conceal his Igbo heritage.” His mates call him “Chewy,” yet he has not adopted such a nickname so silly —  as are many nicknames. In fact, the only Anglicization here is in his last name: “Ejiofor.” The extra “r” is there to remind non-Igbo speakers, in the absence of the sub-dotted “o,” that the last “o” is pronounced “or”; it is not a part of the name. In fact, the two "Os" are pronounced "OR." It is used in the same way “h” is used to remind non-African to pronounce the last vowel.

“Ofo” is a well-known concept in Igbo culture: He who holds “ofo” is just, and he who holds “ogu” is innocent. So, to be both just and innocent, you must have both: “Jide ofo, jide ogu” because justice is not innocence. “Chiwetelu” is a popular family name in Eke, Udi Local Government Area of Enugu State. When Dr. Ejiofor and his wife gave their child the name, it is likely that they applied their particular dialect. Since I am not sure where that is, I can only depend on what I know.

I have a friend whose family name is “MAMEL.” It is on record that Attorney Joe Mamel was the last elected county executive of Ezeagu Local Government Area  of Enugu State. The name should actually read “Maamelu” (the deed of spirits/higher powers)  and some still purposely pronounce it so -- even when written as “Mamel.” There is also the “Emehelu” family from around this neck of the woods. Some of them use “Emehel” -- as many locals would effortlessly say. A former school teacher was so-named.  It is a thing of joy that Mr. Ejiofor is using his real names, not some screen name as many early Hollywood stars of Jewish extraction did. Yet, the Western world will not hear of it; they are already changing it for him: “Chewy”! Whatever that means and no matter the connotations, I am sure that Chiwetel Ejiofor will keep his names and his heritage, which includes being born British, just as Olaudah Equiano (Olauda Ikwuano) refused to bear the slave name “Gustavus Vassa” (c.1745-1797) and still remained proud of both his Igbo heritage and British citizenship. This will in the long run force writers who would be tempted to use the crazy “Chewy” to think twice before crowning a brilliant outing with a funny fancy name that detracts from the person of Maazi Ejiofor.

FINALLY ON THE MOVIE

The movie is definitely a social commentary on a known medical malpractice, and it is a political parody of sorts. States that go tough on immigration often find out that it helps to turn a blind eye sometimes and hope for the best. Although some elements in the film are far from reality in certain parts (hey, it is a movie) the issues raised are real! It has been widely known since the 90s that some unscrupulous individuals bought human kidneys from Turkish peasants in exchange for “stay” in Britain and or cash beyond their wildest dreams. This film brings the matter to the front burner, even though the practice is not as bizarre and as horrendous as portrayed. The actual practice works differently. It would not surprise anyone if some unexplained killings in Nigeria, the so-called ‘mysterious disappearances,’ were actually a part of an international organ-poaching and harvesting ring. This will make some sense of the expression “igbu ozu na high sea.” With a multinational cast of up-and-coming, diamond-in-the-rough actors and a thought-provoking subject matter, Dirty Pretty Things represents a turning point in British film making industry; it is no longer what was or should ideally be but what is.

Some critics are of the opinion that the interracial intercourse between Okwe and Senay is “redundant romance”; it may well not have enhanced the drama much in their estimation, but it is not farfetched. This element is actually most probable in London, especially amongst young people stuck together in such a deplorable dilemma.  The movie also brings to the fore a segment of the society that is never seen in major movies as major players. If nothing else, it may trigger a major movie of the sort to highlight the contributions of African immigrants to the United States of America. Hopefully such a movie would feature some Okereeke Udoakpuenyi or Agbaegonkiti Okparianwoke. Of course, if you prefer, we could have 'Chinyel Ejiogu' opposite Chiwetel Ejiofor.

Names like these would eventually put an end to such silly statements as this actual title from the British National Theatre’s website: “The irresistible rise of our man Chewy – the National’s hottest Romeo yet!” Like the irresistible supermodel Oluchi Onweagba — the first M-Net Face of Africa (1997), we are happy to note that Chiwetel Ejiofor has remained Chiwetel Ejiofor even as the crescendo of applause deafens.

Everything else is embellishment.

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