Obinna Udenwe’s Years of Shame: A Celebration of Ukpa Ji-Ukpa-Nwu Tradition and African Spirituality
By Paul Liam
ature in 2021 with his novel Colours of Hatred, which was also shortlisted for the NLNG Nigeria Prize for Literature. His first novel, Satans and Shaitans, won the ANA Prize for Fiction in 2015. In 2020, his short stories also won a Prairie Schooner—Glenna Luschei Prize. Men Are Fools, a collection of short stories, was a finalist in the Prairie Schooner—Raz Shumaker Book Prize. His short story, “It Has to Do with Emelia,” was adapted into a film by South African film production company Bump Films Inc. in 2022. These recognitions have concretized Udenwe’s evolution as a gifted writer with an uncommon wit and narrative prowess. However, Udenwe’s latest offering, Years of Shame, published by Purple Shelves Literary Services, Lagos, is perhaps his most important work yet.
Years of Shame is a grand work of fiction that not only shatters Udenwe’s previous record of literary excellence, it marks his emergence as a literary philosopher with a profound command of ideological and aesthetic depth akin to the works of literary giants like Chinua Achebe, Ngugi wa Thiongo, Wole Soyinka, and Chimamanda Adichie. Udenwe has found his eureka as a novelist with Years of Shame, that rare moment of profundity known only to a few men and women in a lifetime. This assertion does but little justice to the brilliance and cultural significance of the novel. Suffice it to posit that Years of Shame shares similar cultural importance as Achebe’s Things Fall Apart, for its innovative problematization of African epistemology and, in particular, the Ukpa Ji-Ukpa-Nwu culture of the Izzi people of Abakaliki, Ebonyi State. Although this review may not be able to examine the entire sociocultural and aesthetic dimensions that underpin the consideration of the text as a creative chef-d'oeuvre. It will attempt to highlight a few elements that elevate its status as an important work of literature.
The novel offers an anthropological and sociological examination of the cultural and spiritual foundations of the people of Ogada in Ebonyi State, South-Eastern Nigeria, within the context of modernity and the challenges of post-war Nigeria. It also explores the historical subjectivities caused by economic inequality, class struggle, and injustice fostered by warped social structures that have undermined the development of the Ebonyi people for years. Set in Ogada village, a farming community near Abakaliki, the narration navigates the dualities of modernity and traditionalism. It is woven around the misadventure of Patrice Ikebe, a strong man from Ogada whose personal fortunes clash with tradition when his money goes missing, and he accuses a fellow kinsman, Methuselah, of theft. He then demands justice by invoking a deadly ritual, Ukpa ji-ukpa-nwu gets justice, but unknowingly, justice is not blind to injustice. Against good counsel, Patrice insists on performing the ritual to prove that Metu indeed stole his money while he was fetching water. Patrice also faces a serious challenge with his boss, Sir Douglas Akidi, the wealthiest man in Abakaliki and eastern Nigeria of his era, an Arochukwu man whose family’s historical connections ensure generations of riches and power that command fear and envy in the region.
This review will not explore all aspects of Patrice’s life or other issues in the story but will mainly focus on the significance of representing tradition and spirituality in the text. Udenwe, through the depiction of the Ukpa ji-ukpa-nwu ritual of the Izzi people of Abakaliki, Ebonyi State, highlights once again that the ongoing conversation surrounding postcolonial debates about African traditions and spirituality—especially in the context of European or Western colonization—perpetuated negative narratives about African culture and civilization. Udenwe, through this depiction of an important cultural practice, emphasizes the strength and agency of African spirituality in fostering justice and promoting an egalitarian society where everyone is entitled to fairness. The novel demonstrates that African societies lack comprehensive justice systems; it also underscores that justice involves multiple levels of systems and punishments. These traditional justice systems kept communities united and protected citizens' human rights from abuse by powerful individuals. For example, Patrice, the wealthiest man in his community, accuses Metu of stealing his money without proof. The community is called upon to intervene. This intervention takes various forms in the novel, from family members investigating the accusations to determine their truth, to the establishment of a community court where the entire kindred listens to the charge and allows the accused to defend himself. Only after these procedures are completed are further actions taken. In this case, Patrice, who is the richest man in Ogada, and the accuser, is advised to reflect on his certainty about the claim, but he insists Metu is guilty, while Metu denies the accusation. Initially, the council of elders, led by the village head, moves to conduct a lighter ritual called “Enwa uburu.” The village head, in his speech, explains the significance of taking this oath.
“When an accused is in denial and he takes Enwa uburu, he suffers misfortunes within the next one year. These misfortunes are usually little but significant enough for everyone to notice, so that for this person to be free, they must confess and be punished” (p.30).
The Enwa uburu is seen as a mild punishment meant to serve as a warning to others in the community, but not intended to completely destroy the victim. It acts as a form of corrective restitution for wrongdoing within the community, similar to a light sentence for minor crimes in the Western criminal justice system. However, Patrice, feeling self-righteous, is unhappy with this verdict and demands a harsher punishment. In his defense, Patrice states: “My fathers, my brothers, the money that was taken by Methuselah is no small sum. It is enough to build a cement block house from start to finish” (p.30). The elders recognize Patrice’s push for a stricter penalty as within his rights as a respected community member. Yet, an older man, seen as a symbol of wisdom, urges caution even while acknowledging Patrice’s right to seek justice:
Patrice, our son, you are within your rights to demand such grievous ritual oath. Ukpa ji-ukpa nwa is the worst of all oaths. It is the oath-of-loss-of-all-wealth-and-children, the oath of penury. It is not an oath taken lightly. It is not (p.31).
Patrice, despite all entreaties, insists on a harsher punishment even after being informed that the accuser, too, is expected to take the Ukpa-ji-ukpa-nwa oath alongside the accused. Perhaps what is illustrative in the representation of the deadly ritual oath is the mediatory role of the community in ensuring justice and fairness, and the stability of the community. Although a kinsman may have erred, the community owes him or her a duty of care, for the destruction of the erring individual is also a loss to the entire community. This message is reiterated by the oldest man in the village, who enthuses:
Therefore, if Metu took this money and he takes the Ukpa-ji-ukpa-nwa and loses his wealth and property and children and is not able to put babies in the womb of women, ever again, of what benefit are his sufferings to us as a community of brothers? (p.32).
The above passage is a reminder of the centrality of community and communalism that once held African societies together. The misfortune of one was often considered as the misfortune of the entire community, for the individual existed as the core of the whole. The ritual oath also signifies the spiritual essence of the community, and this is brought to the fore when the day of the ritual ceremony arrives. The narrator provides a detailed narration of the ritual process, which starts with the preparation of the ritual site in the centre of the village square. The narrator explains:
The oldest man in the village came out and asked for a representative from the two kindreds. They dug a small hole at the centre of the village square. The akpoko rope was gently twisted into a crown and put around the hole. It was a weak rope. Some young palm nuts that had not matured, the kind that had water inside it, were laid inside the hole. They put in some ashes. Some yams were laid around the hole, signifying loss of wealth. Then they put in some male flowers of the palm tree. Next, they brought a day-old chick, tied its wings, and tied its legs, while the chick squeaked weakly, meekly. Some feather-hearted men had tears in their eyes. Goosebumps were on everyone’s skin. It was an experience, not witnessed every time; it may not even be witnessed in one’s generation, so everyone strained to see, to hear, to observe. The quietness of the square could be cut with a knife. The sun cast some strong rays that penetrated the canopied trees (p.40).
The lengthy description of the ritual process as represented above underscores the significance of the African traditional belief system and spirituality governed by intricate and meticulous processes and symbolism. Modernity and Christianity relegated these powerful spiritual practices to the background, replacing them with European epistemic systems, which in themselves are made up of various forms of rituals. Through this meticulous representation, Udenwe seems to be inviting us to once more revisit our lost heritage and spiritual practices, which once held our societies together and were efficient in delivering justice and keeping societies sane and productive. It reinforces the notion that African societies were never a jungle of apes lacking civilization or culture, or spirituality, but were highly organized societies governed by powerful traditions and systems.
Contrary to the notion that African spirituality is rooted in juju or carried out in a shrine with charms, the Ukp-ji-ukpa-nwa is carried out in the presence of Ali, the earth, regarded in Ogada as the strongest of all charms and juju as explained by the eldest man in the village: “The Ukpa-ji-ukpa-nwa is taken before Igwe, the god of earth” (p.41). The portrayal of the “Earth” as the greatest of all gods and juju in the text highlights the importance that the Ogada people attach to the earth as the source of life and sustenance. The earth, after all, is the source of food, water, and where the dead are laid to rest. During the oath taking process, Patrice defers to the Igwe, the god of the sky, and Ali, the god of the earth, as the highest spiritual forces to bear witness to his declaration of truth. Furthermore, Patrice according to the ritual rites is employed to swear with his penis as well according to the narrator: “Patrice Ikebe knelt and – holding his penis—bent down and touched the earth before the hole with it. If the oath were to be taken by a woman, then she would have touched the earth with her left breast” (p.43).
The depiction not only highlights the grievousness of the ritual but also accentuates the nuances of the Ukpa-ji-ukpa-nwa rite among the Ogada people. It also shows that the allegation of criminality or any form of evil was abhorrent in the eyes of the Izzi people of Abakaliki, Ebonyi State. Similarly, Methuselah Enigwe performed the rites following Patrice’s pattern of swearing. In his declaration of innocence, Metu declares: “You know everything, Ali. You know everything, Igwe! Bless me, if my heart is clear like water! Curse me, if I have ever thought another man evil. Curse me, if I know how water entered the stork of the fruited pumpkin” (p.44).
The conclusion of the ritual rites signals a new beginning for both men as they await the verdict of the gods. The manifestation of the efficacy of the oath begins to show in the misfortunes that began to befall Patrice, whose wife, Baby, left earlier in the narration for fear that the consequences of taking such a deadly oath would affect her as well, should it be found that Patrice lied against Metu. Her family took her away to exempt her from the consequences of his action. Patrice ends up falling out with his wealthy boss, Sir Douglas Akidi, who arrests and locks him up in a police cell for three months, where he also experiences nightmares and torture. Upon his return to Ogada from Abakaliki, Patrice is met with the sad news of the death of his only son, Nwele, and his daughter, Suzanne, too, had left to join her mother in her village. Although members of the community begin to notice the series of misfortunes surrounding Patrice, the once ebullient and richest man of importance in Ogada, he could not reckon that he had fallen victim to his machinations. The narrator corroborates the assertion when he explains that:
Patrice rarely left the house. How could he? Months ago, he was a man of importance, a figure of affluence. He had a good job, which many envied, and he travelled with his boss for businesses outside Abakaliki. He had the ears of a man who was knighted by the Queen of England and regarded as one of the wealthiest in their region. In his village, he was respected. His home was the go-to place when folks needed some soft loan or cash crop or advice (p.60).
Patrice's life’s tragic trajectory shows that a man cannot become more powerful than the community that produced him; in other words, in a functional society, all men, regardless of their socioeconomic standing, must account for their misdeeds. If Patrice listened to the advice of his kinsmen, father, and the pleading of his wife, he wouldn’t have ended up in the pandemic situation he found himself in. But riches can blind a man to reason and good counsel. When anger overwhelms a man, no amount of good counsel can redeem him from self-destructing. He tested the potency of the gods, and they proved to him that he is but a mere mortal whose existence is subject to their benevolence. This depiction reminds us of the story of Okonkwo in Achebe’s Things Fall Apart, whose anger and pride led to his tragic fall. Patrice’s story tells us that in the end, the community prevails against the individual, no matter how powerful he or she may be.
Udenwe makes a profound case for the agency of African traditional belief systems in addressing social injustice and inequality. The instant retribution that accompanied Patrice after the performance of the ritual is a telling example of the immediate administration of justice. Supposing that the modern western-styles criminal justice system was employed in adjudicating the criminal case between Patrice and Metu, especially in the context of the bastardization of the judicial system in Nigeria and in most African countries, Patrice as the richest man in Ogada would probably have used his resources to destroy Metu’s life like Nigerian big men often do. But in African societies where tradition is judiciously followed, justice is swift and fair, and only the guilty get punished for their crimes. For example, Sir Douglas Akidi, after losing the big contract, accuses Patrice of being the reason for losing the contract and the fashion of Nigerian big men; he beats up Patrice like a child and locks him up in a police cell for three months without trial. He instructs the police not to release him. Sir Akidi represents the dysfunctional state of the Nigerian Western-style criminal justice system, characterized by injustice and corruption. Udenwe seems to propose a return to the neglected African values and justice systems in addressing contemporary social problems.
In conclusion, by celebrating the Ukpa-ji-ukpa-nwa tradition of the Izzi people of Abakaliki, Ebonyi State, Udenwe not only draws the world’s attention to its rich history, culture, and potency in addressing social injustice, but also reinforces the belief by traditionalists and others that Africa must look inward in its attempt to attain sustainable development by adopting positive cultural practices that foster justice, unity and progress. Udenwe also suggests that the neglect of African values and epistemic systems is partly responsible for the continent’s prolonged underdevelopment after several years of independence. As already noted at the beginning of this review, Udenwe’s novel bears a lot of cultural resemblance to Achebe’s Things Fall Apart in more ways than one. A single review, however long, may not allow for an exhaustive examination of the nuanced representations in the novel. The novel deserves to be studied by scholars and read by lovers of African literature, for it is a profound addition to the corpus of African and indeed global literature. In Udenwe, Ebonyi people have found their own Achebe and global cultural ambassador.
Paul Liam is a poet, author, book reviewer, critical literary essayist, editor, literary columnist, polemist, creative writing mentor. He is the co-editor of Ebedi Review (Journal of the Ebedi International Writers’ Residency, Iseyin, Oyo State, Nigeria). A former Assistant Secretary of the Association of Nigerian Authors, (ANA), Niger Chapter, his published works include, Indefinite Cravings (2012), Saint Sha’ade and Other Poems (2014), and his numerous critical essays and interviews have been published in highly reputable Nigerian Newspapers including: The Nation, The Sun, Nigerian Tribune, Daily Independence, Daily Trust, Blue Print, Nigerian Pilot, etc., and online @ africanwriter.com, dugwe.com among others.
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