I did not, by any stretch of the imagination, think that the book I set out to write seven years ago shortly after the publication of my second book, “Delicate Distress,” would become the vehicle for the eulogistic orations that rent the air last Tuesday. The locale was the Shehu Musa Yar’Adua Centre in Abuja. The business of the day was the public presentation of my new book, titled Scents of Power.
The making of the book, as I stated in the Acknowledgment page, was slow but steady. As a matter of fact, the bulk of the book was written in 2014, the year I broached the project. But I slowed down on a number of occasions, rather deliberately, for personal reasons. All that I did in those waiting years was to update the content to reflect current realities. I am delighted that I was able to deliver on the project regardless of my self-imposed censorship.
The excitement that heralded the public presentation last week was foretold, somehow. My good friend and governor of Kano State, Dr. Abdullahi Umar Ganduje, in his Foreword to the book, had reason to contest the title of the book. He did so based on the way the book appealed to him. As a literary scholar, I found his appreciation of the book delightful. But since the critic does not have to read the mind of the author to put his views across, a writer, any writer, must grant the critic the latitude to interject and intervene.
Since the book was unveiled last week, the media space has had a surfeit of graphic narrations of what transpired at the event. Dignitaries came in their numbers. They were supported by an army of enthusiasts who thronged the venue to identity with me or the story I told in the book. I was not ambitious in my choice of those who would play key roles at the event. My focus was largely on those that I believed would readily deliver on their assignments.
As I hinted earlier, I began this journey with Ganduje, the skillful politician who has masterfully been navigating the deep, murky waters of Nigerian politics. My decision to have him write the Foreword was borne out of our interactions on writing and publishing. An author himself, the governor always had useful ideas to share with me each time I talked about the book in the making. As I already noted, his crisp and incisive Foreword to the book set the tone for the intriguing interpretations that the title of the book has elicited. I find the critical responses to and appreciation of the book by various interpreters fascinating. That is the stuff literary criticism is made of.
Perhaps, the only person who was licensed on that day to go into the details of the book was the reviewer. Emma Agu, a veteran journalist and my senior colleague, could not be found wanting in this regard. He carried out more than a review. He brought some hilarity to bear on his assignment before he delved into the business of the day. That way, he did not just talk about the book, he, like a practised hand in political speech, dramatized his entry and exit. He certainly knew his onions and he delivered beautifully on his assignment.
If l was practically swept off my feet by the laudation from various speakers on that occasion, it was because the outcome of the book I set out to write three years after my tour of duty as commissioner in my home state turned out to be larger than what I originally imagined. I had clearly stated from the outset that the book seeks to dissect aspects of my relationship with men of power and influence over the years. In the end, I came up with what looked to me like a semi-autobiographical piece of literature. But the perception began to change when my publishers described the book as purely autobiographical. My argument against that was that I could not have written my autobiography at less than 60 years of age. Regardless of my reservations, various interpreters have freely gone to town with their impressions about the book.
Essentially, my personality has been the focus. That explains why I was the focus of the day. Fortunately for me, it was a tale of the familiar. The testimonials flowed freely. As self-effacing and somewhat introverted as I am, I was held aloft like a trophy and a prized possession and inexorably cast into limelight with encomiums. They spoke glowingly of me. I was held out as an intellectual giant whose writings engage and elevate. I had no doubt on my mind that the speakers spoke from the heart. From Ganduje to Governor Bala Mohammed of Bauchi State, the story was the same. Whereas Ganduje spoke from his personal understanding of me, Mohammed, a kindred spirit with whom I had not interfaced much, relied more on what my writings tell him about me. In the end, both men reached an unambiguous conclusion, to wit, that they are dealing with a man with deep intellect.
The audience had more than a mouthful. Anyim Pius Anyim, the wary politician who knows when to be in and when to be out of politics, set the tone for what turned to be a huge intellectual and political fiesta. Anyim does not waste words. He has a ready wit that matches his words with his actions. Many who had not interacted with me at close quarters are usually guided by my public discourses. For them, my fame precedes me. Anyim Pius Anyim, the former President of the Senate, said this much.
The tale of the familiar continued when Emeka Ihedioha, the former governor of Imo State, mounted the saddle. Ihedioha, in whose government I played a role as the director-general of the Ahiajoku Institute, has a first-hand knowledge of me. He speaks about me with effortless ease, and he is always on target. The gregarious politician understands the game of politicking well enough. That is why he still enjoys a lot of followership regardless of the setback he suffered. I call him the mustard seed of Imo politics.
The former governor of Ebonyi State, Dr. Sam Egwu, who I call the good man politician, was there. His testimonial about me came from the heart. It was borne out of his true knowledge of me. Senator Ben Obi, the father figure, was inimitable. He talks about me as if he knew me from infancy. I respect his dignifying disposition.
Before the occasion wound up, Chief Arthur Eze, philanthropist extraordinaire, had soaked in so much about this man called Amanze that the name became almost a refrain in every statement he made. He connected well with my story without difficulty. A good many others had something to say. Indeed, there was really so much to take home. It was for me a new day and a fresh dawn.