“I WILL NOT GO
TO KPAAZA”:
A Poetic Look at
the Artistic Exploits of Uche Okeke
His father did not go there, neither did his
mother. But he did! Otherwise, how could he have known that Asele drew
uli in the land of the spirit? Where did he observe the dignified
bearing of Awuka and learn the intricate dance of the maiden spirit?
What made him see beyond the multi-coloured Ododo and the looming
image of Ijele? Yes, he went to Kpaaza!
He did not only get to Kpaaza; he went
also to Mkpukpa, Nnamawo, Ngene and Aro. Diji could swear he had seen him
time without number and Diochi could testify to that. The primeval forest of Okofia and Udodiaba could not
deny having caught him severally prying at the deep recesses and hollows of
their woods. Many sacred monkeys and pythons were all aware and even the
serges of vultures and gurus of tortoise knew he was there. He even stepped
on toes – toes of elders. The elder statesmen of tortoise, weighed down by
years of wisdom and contemplation, were disturbed by his intrusion in their
sacrade reserves. Although slightly hurt, and nearly tripped, it was
profitable as usual. It opened another chapter of folklores and lyrics of
the woods: “The Fabled Brute” and Ajofia in a contest of strength and visual
dialogue.
In the forests were feasts of visual
synthesis with Abia and Nkwanwite in a dance of aesthetic imagery. Broken
shells of elder tortoise and giant snails with millipedes and earthworms in
a subtle interplay of forms and colours, rich and sublime, dance to the tune
of visual igede. Dead leaves and broken woods map a complex path to a calm,
dark spring, impossible to fathom “We live in the Deep”.
“I will not fish in her sacred spring …” He
did not fish in her sacred spring. “The early Eunuchs…” did fish there in
defiance but Uche went there to talk to the fishes, drew her water and
sauvoure the peace of the primeval grove. I believed he did. Otherwise, how
could he have known the trees that shade the waters by their names – those
trees of great age, towering and sowering to the sky? Those with lumbergo
and artrities, he knew them all, as his lyrics and hues testify.
You cannot understand and appreciate the
number at times he fetched or even waded into Kpaaza to scoop from her
purest part if you had not been to Ngene, Nnamawo or Awobu. Those who have
been to Ududonka will tell you better. Through the primeval paths he
meandered, slipping and sliding across boulders and gullies. With sticky mud
and red earth and patches of assorted colours rich in yellow orchre, burnt
sienna and burnt umber, raw umber and raw sienna, with generous dose of nzu
to purify the colours, he fed his eyes enroute to Kpaaza.
Wading through shaded steams and springs led
him to “….live in the deep” and dance with “The Fabbled Brute”. Even the
“Aba Women Riot” and most of his paintings and drawings are shrouded in
dense chromatic foliage of our primeval forests.
Having been to Kpaaza and seen and felt
almost everything with keen interest and, consumed also by passion for
documentation, he was able to draw and paint with original poetic idiom. His
lyrical metaphor sprang from his deep understanding of the traditional
elements and principles of design, which could not have been possible if he
had not been to Kpaaza. The narrow and winding path to Kpaaza is long and
far. He had to pass seven lands and seven rivers. Uche scaled high mountains
and big hills. Because he knew where he was going, he was armed to the
teeth. He already heard about the strange lands, thick forests, deep rivers
and strange beings of the lands he traversed.
Okeke and Akobuije knew he would be there.
From craddle they prepared him. At evenings when Akobuije’s ladle danced
skillfully from ite-ekpulu to ugbugba, mediating between onubu and uli-ede
and trying to calm the rising temper of ose with the intervention of ogili
and mangala, she sang ballards and told tales of the land of the living and
the dead - tales from Kpaaza, Mkpukpa, Awobu, Haaba, Ududonka and Nnamawo.
Some tales were so long and breath-taking but many were short and
beautifully punctuated with lyrical and rhythmic songs you could hardly
resist to stand and dance to or just sit and nod your head like a tired
lizard. The tales were paintings and drawings on their own, with vivid
illustration of those strange lands. The interplay of colours and the
lyrical dialogue between hues and tones through thick and thin were amazing.
The serious prayer then was that tales would never end. As Uche sat rooted
to the ground, the appetizing sweet flavour of bitter leaf soup mingled with
the beautiful tales of the deep in a synthesis of visual imagery. He was
completely lost and found!
He was told where he was going and so he knew
he would meet strange animals and spirit beings. He knew he would come
across Ojadili in a duel with the spirits. He saw Asele taking her art to
the land of the dead. When the fisher came from the deep to entice Onwuelo
with borrowed limbs and dresses, he was there, but “ the diochi never told
all he had seen while on the palm tree”. What of the sacred pythons, with
the beautiful camouflages, he encountered. Even the little origin danced and
flashed her intricately adorned skin in competition with the butterflies,
ibele and onwa, the smart fisher, to the jealous eyes of the tired chameleon
who had worked so hard, from antiquity, with all the chemistry of colour in
a perpetual research for an unbeatable palette.
Uche had all it takes to dispel the charm of
the spirits and counter the assaults of wild beasts. He could not have had
any chance against the menacing charge of Efi-Mkpukpa neither could he have
stood when the lions roared. The torgid python would have strangled him and
he would have been out-witted by the old tortoise to change his course.
Because he knew where he was going, he was equipped and ready for the
battle. It was like his mother told him. All the teachings of his ancestors
were not in vain. His fathers and fore-father’s wisdom were taken and
treasured and that was why his every step was sure and certain.
When he heard the aweful noise of “kpiliyoko
Kpiliyoko “he dashed into the bush for cover. But as soon as that inviting
and deep sound of “dum dum dum “ sounded he jumped on to the smooth path to
catch the treasure from the sky.
It was a long journey to Kpaaza where “Aja
nwa isiajali”, Efi-eke, Azu-isi and Akwukwo swim and dance at will; Kpaaza
and Nnamawo where “Okpo na akpo ntu…” and Eligheli had no need of their
nuclear warheads. The calm and still waters of Kpaaza and Nnamawo, hidden
under the calm and cool woods of great trees, gave fresh water to virgins
and the pure. Of course, they must have their ekete round their sacred
waists to profess their purity because Kpaza, Mkpukpa and Nnmawo were pure
and should not be defiled.
From Kpaaza he went to Akpungene-Otenyi.
There the road was short and the ground swept. His trip to Kpaaza opened his
eyes and ‘sharpened’ his feet. He could now go to places because “he has
washed his hands and could now eat with the elders.” As he has equally
washed his feet at Kpaaza, he could go to places like Akpungene-Otenyi where
the ground is swept and the walls painted. Daughters of the land and wives
of the people, “agbala nwanyi”, skilled in the lyrics and hues of the land,
took their turn in the celebration of Uli dance on the clean walls of
Akpungene-Otenyi. Uche knew the seasons and took his time to go there and
feast his eyes on the lyrics and hues of his life.
On the walls were spread the solid black,
interspaced with dual and triple, vertical strokes of edo, nchala and nzu to
form relative sheets of ground for the lyrical and rhythmic dance of Uli
mural symphony. The orchestration of ancestral hues by Uli artists of Otenyi,
Nimo kept him rooted to the ground and dream of the eternal lyrics of the
land. In contrast with the soaring and towering trees of the land, bursting
with strength and limping with age, stood a wall with entrance “hole”
without a door. The two faces of the wall were spread for the dance of life.
There they meet, women of the land, “agbala Nimo” assemble for a celebration
- the celebration of skill: A bold sweep from a dynamic edge of the wall
flows to somewhere close to the upper ground in a dynamic shoot to the top.
Another pair takes a dive from an unpredictable angle and plunges downwards
as if to hit the first pair but settles for a close brush before heading
deep down “for a catch”. The Otenyi experience has always been a visual
feast – a celebration of mastery in visual dynamics. Uche saw all this, and
more, spread across the length and breath of Igbo land and they have
‘sharpened’ his eyes, emboldened his hands and strengthened his feet for the
long journey.
Again, he went beyond Kpaaza and dared to the
Dutch land, West of Germany to tap the technicalities of broken beauties.
The broken and restored back of the tortoise may have fired his love for the
fragmented hues of stained glass.
Having stood the test of valour enroute to
Kpaaza, Nnamawo and Mkpukpa, having fought the beasts and wrestled with the
spirits (with seven heads and ten heads) and having drawn from the deep
waters of Kpaaza, he had the guts to dare the north and south hemispheres.
He rode and drove, flew and sailed to everywhere with the songs of his
fatherland, the unique and peculiar rhythm of his ancestors, the lyrics of
the living and the dead, the lyrics that drove Asele from the of living to
the land of the spirit. The enticing song never allows the beautiful ogbanje
to rest. She is neither here nor there. When she is here, the Uli dance
holds her spell-bound. But when Asele pulls her wild, ecstatic string from
the great beyond, the Ogbanje scampers and yearn to go. Only Divine Power
could save her from the trap of life. Uche knew the Ogbanje, Asele and
Onwuelo but he chose to identify with Asele because of her dexterity and
creativity.
Having gone through the length and breadth of
this land with Kpaaza in mind, he dialogued with Dagi and danced with Ona
and came to the conclusion that each should sing from her side of the
theatre for an anthem of synthesis in diversity. It was so before the day
was spent.
At nightfall, with wild and vicious canon,
fed with bones and blood, Uche with the kindred spirits sought to tell the
gory tales of doom. With nowhere to hide, some had to dare the wild chase of
the devil’s hawk. To go beyond Kpaaza at nightfall Uche dashed into an empty
cabin with a dare-devil pilot and took the hawks abark. Because he had
fought the beasts and wrestled the spirits enroute to Kpaaza, he could go to
anywhere; he could dare the devil.
Yes, Uche had been to Kpaaza and beyond. He
has traversed many lands, sailed through seas and flew across big hills and
great mountains. Uche has seen places and his hands have pulled the strings
and beat the drums and the gongs. We have not only heard the beats but we
dance to their tune.
Chris Afuba
Enugu, 2003.
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References:
Okeke, “Kpaaza”, a poem of early sixties.
Okeke, “The Fabbled Brute” a painting of aid sixties
Achebe, “Things Fall Apart” illustrated by Uche Okeke,
Okeke, “1958. Aba Women Riot” a painting of early sixties.
The
Holy Bible, (Mark 3:2)
Other references were made to popular Igbo folk tales and mythology.
Most names of devities shrines, forest and sacred springs came from Nimo,
Enugu- Ukwu and Agulu in Anambra Sate of Nigeria.
Uche Okeke: Edge of the Primeval forest, Gouche, 1962
Uche Okeke: Aba Women Riot, Oil on Board, 1962.
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