By Paul T. Liam
Title: The Truth
Author: Mahmud Bilkisu Ndatsu
Publisher: Inkdepth Ltd, Minna
Genre: Prose
Year: 2014
Pages: 74
The critic Charles E. Nnolim in one of his essays titled, The Writer’s Responsibility and Literature in National Development posits: ‘far from merely telling an interesting story and entertaining, the creative writer wears more than one garb; he undertakes to be of definite use to his society and to humanity as a whole.’
He informs us that the writer often has more for our conscience than we are willing to reckon with while enjoying the pleasure offered by the story, therefore it becomes befitting that while entertaining ourselves we should look deeper in search of the hidden essence of the stories in our possession, that we may find a deeper meaning beyond entertainment and pleasure. It is on this premise that I wish to look into the offering of a teenager, Mahmud Bilkisu Ndatsu’s The Truth, a work she wrote at age sixteen while a student of El-Amin Internal School, Minna.
Ndatsu’s work may appear timid and ignoble especially with the editorial and publishing lapses that smear the book, but on a closer and objective assessment, the young author engages us with her deep sense of aesthetics and artistry that leaves one in doubt of her capabilities to author a book that evokes such a dense sense of pity and respect for the protagonist, Na’ima, whose bravery and discreet method of unveiling the face behind her mother’s murder is intriguing. Before engaging the story it may be appropriate to share in Na’ima’s sentiment as she misses her mother on her wedding day, a day every girl yearns for the comforting presence of her mother beside her. Na’ima who is also the narrator remarks,
I was dressed in amber colored Ankara (traditional attire) while Iman was in a mint colored one of same design with mine. We were moved out I n the company of friends singing on top of their voices in jubilation. I smiled all through before the parents of the brides were called to have snapshots with them. One Abba appeared for me and that caused for tears to run down my face. I cheered up in order not to cause attention. (74)
One who has read the build-up to the episode quoted above in the story would certainlydevelop empathic emotions for the narrator. She and her brother, Saheer weds on the same day, Iman is Saheer’s bride mentioned in the comment cited above. Ndatsu has a high sense of aesthetics as shown through the narrator’s eyes; she describes sceneries and situations that keep reflecting in the mind of the reader. Of course, this genuine attraction to her environment is to be expected as we learn in the story that both the narrator and the author is a photographer as stated in the author’s biography at the inside back cover of the book; “she has utmost love for photography.’
Perhaps, the following excerpt may show us the observant nature of the author/narrator to details.
The environment was clean as usual. There were about four mango trees which provided shed apart from the long tent that was provided for parking. It was spacious with prevalent comfortability assured. The gatekeeper rushed to greet the boss immediately he ensured that he had closed the gate. Abba answered with both sarcasm and seriousness in his voice. The environment was quiet and still because it was a weekend and a resting day. (60)
The Truth is a book of 74 pages with ten chapters published in 2014 by the new publishing outfit, Inkdepth Publishers. It is a novella that tells the story of a young girl Na’ima who goes about investigating her mother’s death.
Her mother Umma is said to have died from Food Poisoning. Mrs Ben who is Umma’swork colleague and friend becomes the prime suspect because, as the narrator discovers later on in the story, it was her that prepared the last meal Umma ate before her death. The twist however is that nobody is certain that Mrs Ben’s food killed Umma, so the narrator who is a medical student sets out to find the truth but conceals her plan even to her father, Abba. However, just before Umma’s burial prayer, Na’ima receives a phone call from school of an impending practical test to be carried out by her course mates. Still in mourning she prepares herself for the task ahead and informs Abba of her preparation to leave immediately after the burial prayers the next day and so it happens.
It is at the laboratory during the practical test that Na’ima discovers that Arsenic poison was used in the food that killed Umma. Although, Na’ima gets a lead into her investigation, she however needs further proof in order to confirm the authenticity of her investigation. At this juncture she hires the help of a Taxi driver called Femi to assist her in extracting Umma’s medical file from the hospital where she was diagnosed. Femi succeeds through the help of a Nurse whom he tips to get the file for him, he then posts the file to Na’ima, who pays him for his services but again, another trouble begins when at some point in the story, Na’ima discovers that she is being trace by unknown persons which she judges may not be unconnected with her investigation of Umma’s murder.
At the end of the day it is Asiya, the maid that finally uncovers the truth through her own suspicion of Na’ima’s private inquisition into the case of the murder. Asiya discovers the medical documents left behind by Na’ima and reads it after which she contacts Mrs Ben to help with the list of the ingredients she used in preparing the meal that she gave to Umma before her death. Ignorantly, Mrs Ben complies. Asiya then requests Na’iama to purchase the items for her on her way back, from her date with her husband-to-be, the Commissioner.
Na’ima returns home with the items, Asiya then goes into the kitchen to investigate them but because of her limited knowledge she couldn’t decipher which contains the poison until she invites Na’ima who then interprets the inscription Asiya found to be strange on one of the containers. Let’s see how Na’ima exclaims her shock at the discovery. ‘Upon reading the name, my eyes blurred out but I restrained myself from fainting. The name was ARSENIC! How can Arsenic be? (69)’
The girls succeed in proving and bringing Mrs Ben to book. Mrs Ben confesses at the end of the story to have poisoned her friend out of envy and greed. She isarrested by the police and taken away. The climax of the story is Femi’s murder in cold blood in his taxi by unknown men who predictably are Mrs Ben’s men. Femi’s death illustrates the fight against good and evil, Mrs Ben must undo all those who seek to uncover her evil deeds but nemesis as always catches up with her at the end of the day.
Nothing goes unpunished the author seems to be saying.
Meanwhile, amidst the investigation and mourning secretly a love affair blooms between Saheerand Iman, who was raised by Na’ima’s family. Just as their affair is beginning to manifest Na’ima is also being secretly wooed by Alhaji YahayaUsman, the Commissioner through her father. Upon receiving information from Saheer of Alhaji’s intention towards her, Na’ima remarks paradoxically:
If Abba had accepted, my dreams would die. I had already seen my medium sized house with the football pitch in it. How my husband would enjoy my meals and the time when I’d cuddle in my man’s arms with my baby in the cradle. (22)
At first encounter with the above passage, the reader may mistake the futuristic introspection of the narrator to mean that she looks forward to matrimonial bliss. But on critical assessment, what one finds is a satirical depiction of the routines of matrimony. Firstly, she bemoans the death of her dreams which may include academic goals, career and independence which would be replaced with child bearing, conjugal duties, cooking and caring for her house and children which she metaphorically refers to as ‘medium sized house with the football pitch in it.’ the author’s sense of judgement may have been drawn from the stereotypical culture of the north where a family gives birth to plenty children that literarily makes up a football team.
The narrator’s assertion is no doubt a critique of a society that limits women’s dreams to the routines of domestication. Left for Na’ima, she would not have considered marriage yet until she was done with pursuing her dreams. In another situation, Zuba’ida who is Na’ima’s friend bemoans her father’s insensitivity and betrayal of her mother when she complains to Na’ima in tears of his marriage plans with a girl her younger sister’s age. Crying Zuba’ida opines ‘Yes. Topping everything up, she is my younger sister’s age mate and old enough to be given birth to by him.’ As if this repudiation of the immoral act about to be committed is not enough, the narrator launches into a critique of the anomaly. Hear her in her own words:
I moved over to her seat and hugged her. Although, this is common in this part of the country, I imagined my father doing the same. (18 n 19)
As much as one tries to ascribe teenage innocence to this social commentary of what seems a perpetual culture of the north, given the age of the author it is difficult for anyone to deny that there isn’t up to this moment the presence of the social issues confronted by celebrated writer Zaynab Alkali in her works over the years.
It is disturbing that several generations apart, northern female writers including teenage ones would still be engaging the concerns so profoundly treated by Alkali and others. Does it then mean that Northern Nigeria has not advanced in the area of social justice for women? What other truth does one wish to hear before we change the aged long culture of a ‘man’s world’ still prevalent in Northern Nigerian.?
The works of other young female Northern Nigerian writers such as Maryam Bobi, Halima Aliyu, Hadiza Bagudu, Hauwa Shaffi and others continue to advocate for the full restoration of the liberty of women who should be allowed to determine the direction of their lives.
The truth that the author may be searching for with this work may not be the truth about her mother’s death but about the emancipation of womanhood as could be deduced from the little insights she betrays such as Na’ima’s arranged marriage with the Commissioner, Zuba’ida’s father’s proposal of marriage to a little girl, for which Zuba’ida weeps and laments about. The book somewhat suggests to us that women in the region are still marginalised and silenced by men.
This is in lieu of the fact that Na’ima informs us that had she the power to refute she would have rejected the Commissioner’s proposal but she must obey her father because that is the right thing to do, to obey her father is the right thing for a girl to do.
Ndatsu is another gun shooting at the egotistical and parochial agenda of northern men. One only hopes that her search for justice may come true for all women and most especially Northern Nigerian women.
Paul T. Liam is a Poet and Short Story writer
