Ayomide Bayowa is an award-winning Nigerian Canadian poet, actor, and filmmaker. He holds a BA in Theatre and Creative Writing from the University of Toronto and is the (2021–24) poet laureate of Mississauga, Ontario, Canada. He is a top-ten gold entrant of the 9th Open Eurasian Literary Festival and Book Forum, UK, a finalist of the Frontier Poetry Global Poetry Prize and was long-listed for both the UnSerious Collective Fellowship and 2021 Adroit Journal Poetry Prize. He won first place in the 2020 July Open Drawer Poetry Contest, the June/July 2021 edition of the bimonthly Brigitte Poirson Poetry Contest (BPPC) and second place in the 2021 K. Valerie Connor Poetry Contest’s Student Category. He has appeared in a long list of literary magazines, including Windsor Review, Kalahari Review, IceFloe Press, Barren Magazine, Agbowó, Guesthouse, Stone of Madness Press, Ampersand Review, Tipton Poetry Journal, The Offing and Beyond Words Literary Magazine. He is the editor-in-chief of Echelon Poetry and currently reads poetry for Adroit Journal. His debut collection of poems, Gills, interrogates belonging, identity, and diasporic struggle. In this interview with Ehi-kowochio Ogwiji, Ayomide talks about his writing, life as an immigrant, and the interwoven themes in “Gills”.
CM: Building upon Soji Cole’s description of “Gills” as a merging of African and American linguistic finesse, could you delve into the specific inspirations that fueled the creation of this remarkable collection? What prompted you to explore the intricate themes of belonging, race, and identity in “Gills”?
AB: During my formative years up until recently, I developed a profound fondness for aquatic creatures. My childhood was largely influenced by creative and imaginative descriptions, especially of mermaids. I experienced recurring dreams, which gave rise to my mother’s concern. She explored various spiritual remedies that were affordable and accessible, but none proved to be effective. It was once stated that I was a child of water and therefore inherently bound to it. Consequently, my mother barred all activities that involved a substantial body of water, particularly those suitable for children. Growing up, my interests eventually expanded beyond aquatic environments and their inhabitants. After which if fish is to be prepared at home, I would undertake the task of meticulously peeling its skin patterns before consumption. I began to encounter discomfort from the taste and odour of fish. It was not until recently that it made me ponder symbolically over the Lord’s prayer and reflect on those who have enough but fail to appreciate it in the face of a hungrier debt system that they were not born to navigate without adequate financial, labour market education/ economic survival skills. It is just about the shift in the system, much like how humans are compelled to venture into unfamiliar territory, a fish would swim away from its territory if polluted or say, is taken out of the water and placed on the ground, it will flap till it dies or a third-person hand changes its fate. This is where Gills comes in.
Since I migrated, I have made my home on the land of Canada’s indigenous people as a result of eco-political and historical consequences, living with the constant fear of losing their sense of identity and belonging over time. A more sinister form of tragic migration than I can imagine. There are ongoing examples of environmental racism in areas that may surprise immigrants from across the world, leaving them to question if this is truly the Canada they had hoped for as a land of opportunity and progress. Just as I relied on the aquatic world for creative inspiration during a phase of my life, how about those who have a long lineage of direct natural correspondence with the environment that they call home and must rely on, even more after the impact of colonialism? Gills has deliberately chosen not to rely on a simplistic or rigid black-white framework to portray the nuanced and complex social issues to empower readers by helping them cultivate greater mind resilience and self-sufficiency in navigating these topics, regardless of circumstances on the Western soil.
CM: Could you share insights into your creative process while crafting the poems in “Gills”? How do you navigate the selection of forms and styles to effectively convey your messages? Were there specific poets or literary influences that significantly shaped your distinctive style?
AB: Crafting the poems in Gills was a challenging and persistent endeavour that required my utmost dedication. When I first started writing to showcase my work to my poet friends at the University of Ibadan – Adìo, Segun Micheal, Ngaju Michael – my interest in poetry was driven by my belief in its potential. This conviction has been the driving force behind my journey as an author. Seeking feedback and criticism, I submitted the poems in their various drafts to several literary publications and competitions. Each rejection, acceptance, win, shortlisting, or longlisting played a significant role in shaping the final form of the poems that are now featured in my book.
Prior to being a poet, I was a thespian with a passion for the dramatic arts. I leveraged these skills to enhance the impact of theatrical elements in my poetry, particularly with the poems I wrote in Gills. As a student of creative writing at the University of Toronto, I gained insights into audience preferences, incorporating elements and feedback from peer reviews, I enhanced the accessibility of my poems to their intended readership. Through the incorporation of pertinent and thought-provoking literature such as the works of Amiri Baraka, Claudia Rankine, Samuel Beckett, and Canisia Lubrina, among others, I gained the necessary skills and confidence to articulate ideas that may be considered sensitive or too controversial.
CM: Your work delves into the intersectionality of belonging and identity. Beyond race, are there specific aspects of identity that you find particularly significant to explore in your poetry?
AB: I would begin with when I was fresh off the air and into Canada; when I was waiting for my admission offer from the University of Toronto. I had to work at a Windows company factory for an entire year without a break just to make ends meet. I tried to connect with people who shared my worldview and could comprehend my thick Nigerian accent. In many African cultures, it is common for parents to remind their children not to forget their roots and where they come from before venturing out into the world and/or entrusting them in God’s hands. It is common for individuals who migrate to new places to adopt certain addictions, which often become formidable spiritual battles. I too, was influenced by such individuals – married, divorced, homeless, and directionless. There is a deep-seated inclination in my ethnic background to work hard and stay busy.
While I had hoped for Gills to encompass more than just the narrative of a self-awakening Western-born person of colour through poetry, I have included several indications that being an African in the diaspora can be both therapeutic and distressing. Incorporating Yoruba sayings in subtle ways aids me in composing verbose emotions with greater concision. A Yoruba man I met at the workplace quoted the famous legendary fuji genre musician King Wasiu Ayinde Marshal to me whenever I complained about being too young to endure the labour, “E ni ti oba won sebi alabaru ni ilu oyinbo, kole bawon sebi a ji gboro loja.” This translates to, “He that cannot slave abroad cannot join the team of those who act like they were born into wealth in this life’s market.” That was when I realized that it doesn’t take long to be long. As the poem titled “Bills” in Gills says, “…what can my Jero-self do than to keep jumping from frying pan to water?” Last last, if I broke na my business.
CM: As a Nigerian-Canadian, how do you navigate the intersections of diverse cultural influences in your poetry? Do you believe there are universal elements within your work that can resonate with readers from various cultural backgrounds?
AB: To paraphrase a line from ‘Landed or A Cue to Go Back to Your Country’ (a poem in Gills), ‘Takbir… Allahu Akbar, my newcomer neighbour chants after seeing snow for the first time. Shut the f*ck up my white partner replies. Tsk, these people, there never get used to the weather nor us. Here, be a Roman and even count your days in Roman numerals. The concept of multiculturalism should not be navigated in a manner akin to the way one might navigate through a network of police traffic-controlled local roads and intersections. To promote peace and understanding and even enable self-growth in snowy soil, it is important to allow new ideas and perspectives to take root in our consciousness. Living with them grows on your consciousness as humanity ought to live selflessly without feeling the need to avoid, fear, hesitate or go against other’s non-native or strange diverse harmlessly legal perspectives and experiences of others as we coexist.
Ignorance is often the root cause of war, whether it be internal or external parties; to consider the Global South Israel-Palestinians war before our eyes today. During our childhood, my sister and I were regularly dropped off at a residence where the children of a lady attended daily after-school Arabic classes. Having no choice but to follow them every day, I unwittingly learned their religion with endearing innocence, now an adult-pertinent coping mechanism. Based on my life experiences of interacting with individuals from diverse backgrounds at the factory and offering them an affectionate disposition, I have acquired valuable lessons that I integrate into every piece I write. For instance, my then Pakistan friend’s favourite joke is forehead’s Bindi being a button if pressed upon the ground for prayer, his creator gets direct access to all his worries: as conveyed in the poem ‘14 Days Silent Prayers.’ Alike, the Israel I used to know was my childhood pastor’s punchline. The Israel I now know is next door, school-bound, gym Pal, or better still, with the most grace of the God I serve shoving it in all of our faces, hell-pocket with incomprehensible stage frights. Say, the foreign experiential Bildungsroman as such served as my guide to navigating Canada’s lovely multicultural grace.
CM: “Gills” touches on significant societal issues. How do you perceive the role of poetry in addressing and commenting on challenges related to belonging, race, identity, and the diasporic struggle?
AB: In instances where individuals, such as myself, experience the sensation of a fish’s scales akin to that of bubble wrap, it is noteworthy that most poems in Gills that address issues of race do so to promote deeper introspection (in this case, in a lyrical fashion) rather than to expose one’s vulnerability to contentious issues. The book commences with a poem titled “Bills” and concludes with another titled “Gills,” which shares its name with the book. I intend to immerse readers in a literary world that confronts Western socio-economic barriers, providing them with critical information on how to stay afloat. The idiomatic expression means ‘to rise above financial crisis/ difficulties,’ I believe. The mention of a fish’s gills prompts my exploration of the significance of everyday life’s renewing gratitude or questioning as continuous survival in the face of a debt system that is often unkind to the most vulnerable. As for us, we are already weighed down by loans and promises to pay tomorrow and the day after. However, Gills offers a clear transition through the strained journeys of the poetic personas.
What I hope readers, whether they are first-time or regular readers, take away from this collection of poems is that when the overlapping scales of a fish are finely scraped off for cooking, the only way to escape is through relentless flapping, which may even frighten the beholder into a slippery drop. These half-peeled fishes here are migrants like me with painful financial burdens not excluding being written off for collections. The idea of a credit score puts pressure on people to take risks and make financial commitments, even if they aren’t comfortable doing so. This is especially true for students who may have to take out loans to pay for their education.
CM: What conversations or reflections do you hope readers will take away from your exploration of these critical issues? How do you envision your work contributing to broader discussions within the literary and cultural spheres?
AB: The literary work of every poet is akin to a person without a home. When submitted for publication, it transforms and becomes a migrant, in need of a preconceived concrete story for acceptance or rejection. Subsequently, it is subjected to constant revisions to fit the narrative established by the immigration personnel responsible for reviewing the case to a stay. If one were to have access to a comprehensive overview of my development of Gills, one would likely perceive my growth as a situational comedy of ignorance. I mean, a child whose first words are solely directed towards one parent may struggle to communicate with the other parent. Similarly, it can be difficult to convey one’s ideas through literary works in a foreign land where one’s voice, intonation, and accents steal the narratives from reaching the audience.
The craft of poetry writing is rooted in the pursuit of one’s voice, an elusive element that can be found within oneself, whether it be deep within the vocal cords or buried within the pits of one’s impressions.
ayomide bayowa
When various cultural and geographic influences are at play, it’s important to note that one’s predisposition may be misunderstood by their audience back home. They may be unaware of an author’s current living conditions in the diaspora and may not understand why it’s a concern in the face of more pressing unsettled internal creative affairs. Therefore, rather than implementing a top-down approach, it is recommended that one considers the underlying reasons & habit of warm reception of many diasporan writers who are most likely lost in the potential communication gaps & essentials of life’s survival language precision. The craft of poetry writing is rooted in the pursuit of one’s voice, an elusive element that can be found within oneself, whether it be deep within the vocal cords or buried within the pits of one’s impressions. However, authenticity should not be the only trustworthy fellow, as it is most confusing. Instead, the aim should be to create works that can feed or solidify when needed, like biscuit bones.
CM: Reflect on your growth and evolution as a poet through the creation of “Gills.” Did you encounter specific lessons or gain insights during the process of putting together this collection? Have any of these lessons inspired new projects?
AB: It is paramount to be disciplined, and always try to resist the urge to dey sha’laye. The only place for your words to find a true home is in the mind of a reader who discovers, like a Samaritan and imbues them with existential essence. Not all readers may be bound by the same level of commitment to transformation or possess the same level of word value trade experience to fully grasp the weight of your heart. Even the Biblical ark of the covenant was rejected by people. At that, I guess you can say I have been sexually active poetically.
While my baby, ‘Gills’ crawls the minds of its readers, I have completed the manuscript for another collection, titled ‘Hypokrites.’ I am hopeful that my publishers will consider it for publication in the fall of next year. In moments like these, I strive to prevent the internal conflict within me from intersecting with that of the Global South, I consider a reason why poets tend to survive wars: to recount how well or poorly performed humanity has been. In observance of environmental days like today, poets such as myself emerge with a solemn purpose—to retrace the footprints in the reconstruction of fragment valuables left behind by jittery weapon handlers who have resorted to violent vowels across the globe and make big, pixelated deals of them or something. I might have the gut but not a gun.