Iquo DianaAbasi is a versatile noted Nigerian storyteller, performance poet, and editor. Her repertoire includes prose, poetry, and scripts for both radio and screen. Renowned for her captivating stage performances, Iquo infuses her poetry with the rich elements of Ibibio folklore. She is the author of the poetry collections, Symphony of Becoming (2013) and Coming Undone as Stitches Tighten (2022); the short story collection, Èfó Rírò and Other Stories (2020); and has a spoken word album, Beyond the Staccato (2022). She has been nominated for various awards including The Nigeria Prize for Literature (2013 and 2022); the Wole Soyinka Prize for Literature; and the Association of Nigerian Authors Poetry Prize. Iquo is a dedicated eco-warrior and sustainability champion, collaborating with various organisations to promote these causes and incorporating these themes into her creative process. She is also passionate about cultural and literary promotion, having served as the caretaker chair of the Association of Nigerian Authors (Lagos State Chapter). Additionally, she has been the President of the African Students Association at the University of Alabama, where she is currently pursuing postgraduate studies. Iquo is an alumnus of Fidelity Bank’s International Creative Writing Workshop and a former writer-in-residence at the Ebedi International Residency. In this interview with Kukogho Iruesiri Samson, Iquo talks about her books, accolades and the prominent themes in her writing.
KIS: Your work spans various genres, including prose, poetry, and scripts for radio and screen. How do you approach writing across these different forms, and what unique challenges and rewards does each medium offer you?
ID: I see writing as a vehicle for delivering a message, a means for sharing a slice of the human condition as told through an artist’s perspective. I like to think of myself as a poet first, however, I remain humbled that I have been blessed with the capacity to share my creativity in different genres. I have come to realise that each form demands varied kinds of discipline and elasticity of expression. Writing poetry requires a deeper condensation of thought than short fiction, and these two are quite different from long-form writing like the novel. A radio drama script for instance requires a set of skills that could stifle a screenplay – the radio script doesn’t have the added benefit of sight and moving visuals, thus the writer needs to know how to weave words and the plot to feed and titillate the ears (of the audience) enough to sustain their attention. Each genre requires a specific and unique set of skills.
It can be a lot of work to switch these disciplines, but I take joy in the knowledge that each form of expression brings its sense of fulfilment. The joy of discovering a fresh metaphor as I struggle to put an image or feeling to words in a poem can feel so rewarding, even if what I had initially set out to write is a story. And then, a character’s words can startle and excite me as I flesh out dialogue for a story or radio play! I appreciate whatever medium a piece of writing decides to come through; my duty is to keep myself open to receive and transmit each poem or story as honestly as I can. And when I do this, I usually feel a sense of satisfaction that is a reward on its own.
KIS: You released “Beyond the Staccato” in 2022. I cannot help but notice that the album features several socially conscious poems, thereby reflecting the essence of ‘Parrhesia’ or fearless speech. Could you share the inspiration and creative process behind this spoken word album?
ID: The poetry album took a long time to come, and I went through many different processes and changes before deciding on the poems that would populate this album. “Beyond the Staccato” interrogates various socio-political issues, girl child subjugation, environmental despoliation and more. It is my love letter to my country, and in it, I bemoan many of the negative situations Nigerians face while attesting to the fact that beyond the staccato of herder crisis, EndSARS, insurgency, hunger, poor infrastructure, etc. Nigerians are loving people who are shaken but not broken. When I first went into a studio to record, the album had different poems, but after the shooting at the Lekki Toll gate on the evening of October 20, 2020, which claimed the lives of over a hundred innocent Nigerians whose only crime was a peaceful protest against police brutality – after that incident, the album took a different turn and featured more poems that addressed the state of the nation.
As a writer I generally do not have the luxury of becoming numb to things around me, this is not just about situations and events becoming inspiration for creative work, but also because my sensibilities make me unable to ignore or pretend things away. So, yes, I am very passionate about fearless speech, it is as necessary as the air we breathe, and the food that nourishes our bodies, and it is a shame when countries suppress the voices of its citizens, writers or journalists. Shall we ask questions with stones if they take away my voice, ala Odia Ofeimun? I believe the poems in “Beyond the Staccato” truly personify parrhesia or fearless speech.
KIS: “Coming Undone as Stitches Tighten” was nominated for the Nigeria Prize for Literature in 2022. While you ultimately didn’t win the prize, being nominated for the second time in nine years must be a significant honour. Does this recognition of your writing fuel your creativity, or are you driven to create regardless of external validation?
ID: Lol @ ‘While you ultimately didn’t win the prize…’
Each time I have been nominated for a prize, I feel a sense of validation, and it is a beautiful feeling for a writer to have, even if one doesn’t win the prize. Writing is a very painstaking and lonely activity so of course it feels good for my book to be appraised amongst hundreds of submitted works and found worthy of consideration for a prize. However, this is not what fuels my writing. I create because I just have to. This may sound corny, but there are very few things that I do that give me the sense of fulfilment and release that writing does. What would I do with myself if I didn’t have an outlet for the stories and voices in my head that beg for an audience from time to time?
KIS: Ibibio folklore plays a significant role in your poetry. How do you integrate these cultural elements into your work, and what do you hope your audience takes away from this fusion of tradition and modern storytelling?
ID: I love the folklore of my people, the Ibibio language, and the melody of the singing, and I appreciate the role that orality played in the lives of our forebears; even the role it still plays now in Ibibio land. While I am very open to the learning of other cultures and knowledge systems, I do feel we should not throw away our own because there is a lot to be learnt from our folklore and songs. And when I infuse these cultural elements into my poetry, I do it with that consciousness. I also like how the call and response of a folksong draws my audience into the performance, giving them part ownership of the creative process, and thus also making them more receptive to the message in the poem. Then they ask: What language is that? Where is it spoken? What does it mean? Like so, I drop small bits of Ibibio culture along with my poetry. I also hope this fusion keeps the language alive for longer.
KIS: In your poetry collections, “Symphony of Becoming” and “Coming Undone as Stitches Tighten,” you explore various themes and emotions. How have your personal experiences shaped these collections, and what messages do you aim to convey through your poetry?
ID: The ideas and themes captured in poems are not necessarily things experienced personally by the poet. A lot of the themes I engage in both books represent things that I am curious about, offended by, or deeply passionate about. I may have experienced a few of them personally, and a few more vicariously, by association, or simply by virtue of being human, and in tune with world events. I will say though, my first poetry collection, Symphony of Becoming (2013) has a few autobiographical pieces, as it was a book that celebrated coming of age and battling with life’s uncertainties. Whether the poems stem from my personal experiences or the experiences of others, it is my ardent wish that when readers encounter my poems, they are first and foremost reminded of their humanity, and also challenged to do more, be better, and open their minds to more education.
KIS: As an eco-warrior and sustainability champion, how do environmental themes find their way into your creative works? Can you give examples of how you’ve addressed these issues in your writing?
ID: I believe that the earth is mother to us all, and we each owe her a duty to care for her and treat her in ways that ensure that she is sustained for those coming after us. My poem ‘We Did not Inherit Her’ in Coming Undone explores this idea succinctly. The poem is adapted from a Niger Delta proverb which declares that we did not inherit the land but borrowed her for our children, this poem condemns the despoilation of the Niger Delta which has arisen as a result of the extraction activities in that part of Nigeria. Other poems in the collection that address environmental concerns or extol the environment include PH Greys, Sunset Melody, Full Frontal and Moonchild.
KIS: You have been involved in cultural and literary promotion in various capacities, including serving as caretaker chair of the Association of Nigerian Authors (Lagos State Chapter). What are your thoughts on the current state of the literary scene in Nigeria and Africa, and what do you believe is the role of writers in driving social and cultural change?
ID: While I agree that literary associations and groups help to foster a sense of community, capacity building—where specific programs exist for improving skill, and networking—by way of connecting writers to different members of the literary ecosystem, I have come to see that many artists do not wish to be tied to that structure of literary association. This is evident in the many talented writers getting recognized, and winning fellowships and awards worldwide. Let us also not forget that the internet provides a lot of resources for artists, which were hitherto hard to come by. A lot of literary promotions happen online before physical meetups take place, and even so, these art gatherings do not have the right political structures that [for example] any chapter of the Association of Nigerian Authors (ANA) has. So, my impression is that literary groups are important, and have their place, however, the literary scene is continually expanding and I am so excited each time I read the work of many of our young writers, or even meet them at cultural spaces and book festivals. We are in a great place right now and I know that the scene will only keep getting better.
I think the writer’s primary duty is to write and be true to the story or subject of their writing. Social and cultural change doesn’t happen in a flash, it is an enduring process, and like an avalanche builds momentum slowly, even though the growth of said momentum might go unnoticed for long periods. For this kind of social engineering to happen, there must first be an alteration or elevation of thought and consciousness; and how better to achieve this than with written work or literature in general?
KIS: Your short story collection, “Èfó Rírò and Other Stories,” offers a rich tapestry of narratives. How do you choose the stories you want to tell, and what themes or issues do you find yourself repeatedly drawn to?
ID: I just write the stories that come to me and refuse to go away. That is the simplest response I can give to this question. I find myself repeatedly drawn to the human condition and the psychological turmoil that people go through when faced with challenging situations. There is no limit to the possible reactions that humans can have; we can be so unpredictable and so resilient, that it amazes me each time. I am also curious about oppression, the subjugation of the will of some humans by others who feel superior, I am curious about the origins and the social and cultural structures that have fostered this oppression over the centuries. Beyond this curiosity, I hope that my poems and stories help to educate people who may be victims of such injustices, and also open their minds to alternative possibilities of being. If we cannot treat our fellow humans with respect and dignity, how then can we treat the non-human members of our society- animals, trees, plants, the waters and all that’s housed within it – with the care and respect they deserve? These things bug me.
KIS: With your diverse experiences, from being a writer-in-residence to leading the African Students Association at the University of Alabama, how have these roles influenced your writing and your perspective on the global literary community? What advice would you give to emerging writers in Nigeria and beyond?
ID: If there is anything that I have learnt in my years of writing, taking part in workshops, residency, graduate studies and the leadership positions I have undertaken, it is that you can never learn or know too much. I have benefitted a lot from reading and research, and I think all writers can benefit from continuous reading and learning. Read widely, learn about people and customs that are different from yours, and read to gain a deeper and wider understanding, but do not blindly imbibe all that you read. Try new things – this is advice I wish I had received many years ago. Leave your comfort zone and see where the adventure will take you. And most importantly, don’t ever give up just because something doesn’t work out the first time – this works for submissions and rejections, prizes, fellowships, education, etc. Persistence is a good way to build a tough skin, which we all need in this writing life.
KIS: Looking ahead, what future creative projects or aspirations do you have? Are there any new genres or themes you are excited to explore in your upcoming works?
ID: In the last half-decade or so, I have been interested in exploring historical fiction that interrogates the intersection of Christianity, the Ibibio worldview and myths, and twenty-first-century living. This is a project I hope to complete soon.
I am also looking at experimental work and look forward to trying some hybrid forms in my writing, particularly in creative nonfiction. I have recently taken an interest in the storytelling of Carmen Maria Machado and Rajiv Mohabir and how they use the hybrid form to convey their personal experiences, such that the form itself does so much for the story and as a vehicle to share experiences. In addition to this, there will of course be poetry and more poetry.