Bookshelf: ‘How I became lawyer by day, poet at night’
Ogechi Ezeji is author of ‘Eclipse of Justice’ published in 2017. She studied both English/ Literature and Law. Here, she talks about how she became a poet, themes she explored in her debut collection and more. Excerpts:
Bookshelf: Your debut poetry collection, ‘Eclipse of Justice’ was published last year. Why did you choose this title?
Ogechi Ezeji: A book’s title is most times very central to the receptivity or otherwise of the book as it constitutes an essential paratext as Gerard Genette would put it. Many great books have been birthed with titles shrouded in metaphors and metonymies. In titling ‘Eclipse of Justice’ I bore in mind the passion that gave birth to the writing of the book in the first place. I needed a book that would effectively x-ray the ills of our judiciary using demystified diction while at the same time entertaining.
Bookshelf: Your very first poem in the collection, ‘In Search of a Court Justice’ laments the compromising state of the Nigerian judicial system. Was there a particular incident that triggered this piece? Ezeji: A lot of incidences informed that particular poem, some of which may not necessarily be personal. I was looking at what happens in the Nigerian courts from the view of the common man. When the common man attends our courts, does he go away with the belief that justice has been served or with the view that a lot of incomprehensible jargon was spoken?
Bookshelf: You also wrote about how appointments are given unethically in the system and how it never helps in bringing justice to the people. What in your opinion should influence the choice of a
Chief Justice of a nation?
Ezeji: I suppose you are making reference to the thematic concerns of ‘Appointment of a New CJ’, the second poem in the collection. Very central to the theme of that poem is the issue of undue executive interference in appointment of judicial officers. Because of the provisions of our laws, the executive is very integral to the appointment of judicial officers. As has been revealed by the realities of our recent past, the executive has often used its powers in this regard to pursue self-serving end, rather than do what is best for the judiciary. Given this, merit is sometimes sacrificed on the altar of self service and executive convenience. The poem therefore advocates that merit, which in turn would breed social and legal justice should be the sole basis upon which judicial officers are appointed.
Bookshelf: Poets sometimes go to great lengths to hide meanings in their work. How do you approach your own writing? Ezeji: The choice of the diction in which a poet writes is entirely the poet’s. As studies in modern African poetry reveals, many poets, especially those of the first generation, for reasons of aesthetics and other concerns, choose inaccessible diction, thereby concealing meaning. The second-generation poets prefer the use of accessible diction. Niyi Osundare is arguably the champion in this regard. It is however important to note that accessible or simple diction does not equate to simplistic poetic rendition. In this regard, I am an adherent to the accessible diction of the second
generation poets. This is because I desire that the average reader benefits from my writings.
Bookshelf: ‘Shopping for a Fitting Dress’ talks about how judgements are bought according to one’s financial capacity. Do you see Nigeria moving away from such a system anytime soon?
Ezeji: I am of the opinion that monetization of justice would continue in our system for as long as there are corrupt judicial officials. You would however have noticed that one of the poems was dedicated to Hon. Justice Muktar Alooma for her heroic fight against corruption in the judiciary. If such efforts are sustained, then one might foresee in the horizon a time when monetization of justice will be a thing of the past.
Bookshelf: Aside Hon. Justice Muktar Alooma, you dedicated a poem to late Gani Fawehinmi (SAN). Do you see Nigeria having a new generation of lawyers that would fight for people’s rights as much as he did? Ezeji: It would be a cliché to say that nobody is irreplaceable. Having said that, we all know that great and audacious men and women are rare to come by. Gani Fawehinmi (SAN) was uncommonly audacious. I however believe that giving adequate commitment and passion, many new generation Nigerian lawyers can still fight for peoples’ rights with as much audacity and sagacity as Fawehinmi did.
Bookshelf: You studied both Law and English Literature. What prompted this and how are you able to juggle them? Ezeji: My sojourn into the dual world of Literature in English and Law was largely accidental. As was largely the norm during my secondary school days, if one were a good Art student, Law was considered a natural preference. I
happened to be amongst the best Art students in my class, so I and everyone else thought Law was it for me. I also found Literature in English and English Language charming in a very unusual way. When I wrote the Joint Admission and Matriculation Board (JAMB) exam the first time and did not make the cut off mark for admission into the Law faculty, I naturally opted for Literature. I later got admission to study Law but then I had discovered the expansive magical world of Literature to a point where it was impossible to back out. I go to the courts and work in the chamber during the day. At night, I write. I enjoy being a lawyer and a writer and intend to excel in both callings. I have also found a subtle point of convergence in my practise as a lawyer and a budding writer. This lies in the fact that both literature and Law seek justice and an equitable society. While Law does so within the frameworks of status and case laws, hence legalistic, Literature utilizes a more social and humanistic approach. Bookshelf: How did you start writing poetry?
Ezeji: As a young girl of about nine, reading children’s books by Mabel Segun, Ifeoma Okoye, Chinua Achebe and several more created in me a strong desire to write. But I did not get to write anything creative until my last year in secondary school when I wrote my first poem. I showed it to my literature teacher then who praised it and had a copy of it pasted on the school notice board. I was elated. Shortly after secondary school, I stumbled on two books of poetry: ‘The Penguin Book of English Verse’ and ‘The works of Thomas Hardy’. Although I had very limited understanding of the poems in the collection, I kept reading them, perhaps out of boredom or curiosity. I wondered what it would be like to write a full book of poetry or any other thing creative. Encountering the poetry of Osundare and its accessible language in the University was heart-warming. I started writing again. But I would either abandon or tear whatever I had written after a few pages because I felt they were not good enough. When I started practising Law and saw a lot of anomalies that I needed to write about, poetry naturally came to me as vehicle that could convey the weight of such experience. Bookshelf: Do you have plans of exploring another genre of literature aside poetry? Ezeji: While I understand the importance of specializing in a genre, I do not want to limit myself at this early stage of my writing career. As most writers would attest, whenever the muse to write comes on a writer, it most times chooses the form in which it wants to be expressed. I am therefore open to exploring other literary genres. Bookshelf: What are you working on at the moment? Ezeji: I have a few unpublished poems and short stories on my laptop. I am also working on children fiction.