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X-raying Garricks’s songs-inspired story collection

When you read a good book, it’s easy to talk about. This is the case with Chimeka Garricks’s ‘A Broken People’s Playlist’. You may have read many stories, those that made you howl or misty-eyed, but you will most likely never forget some in this short story collection, especially the first. It breaks a heart into bits and I wonder why writers have to be this cruel, even if life is sometimes.

‘Lost Life’ reads like a sad song, like a letter to someone loved and lost. But then it makes you smile and laugh too. Here, from the first page the author’s writing glides as one born to use the second person narrative in telling the story in beautiful prose (or is it poetry?):

They will ask me when I first knew I was in love with you. I will sigh and say I don’t know. It happened in fragments, piece by piece, separate moments over the years. Moments that’s how I remember it.

They will be surprised when I say you are the only man I have loved.

Sira here is the narrator, and she seems to be talking about someone special. This is evident from the beginning, the feeling that he’s special, and that something spectacular must have happened between them. They are first best friends, then lovers, and then one day Kaodini drops the ‘bombshell’, that he wants to marry her. Before then, they have both been seeing other people, all the while ignoring the fact they are in love. Being the first girl among her sisters, and the only one unmarried, you would think everything has just fallen in place for Sira. But she’s no longer that girl who Kaodini visits on his motorcycle, who would accompany him to a buka he boasts sells Fisherman’s Soup she would sell her soul for.

So, she’s now worried about leaving her firm in Lagos where she’s gunning to become partner, and about taking Kaodini away from the farm business he cherishes in Port Harcourt. When he makes a flippant comment after she voices out these concerns, Sira makes a big fuss about it and ignores him for ten days. Then when it seems like their magic is back for good, you’re filled with trepidation because you know the world is not bullet proof, and so is their love. This is what the author pulls off nicely in each story, the growing tension that something heartwrenching waits to happen.

In this collection, Garricks explores relationships like a god-between spouses, dating couples, friends, and even lovers turned enemies. The why, the how, and the when fall in place like solutions to a jigsaw puzzle at every turn. The stories are refreshing, exhilarating, and sometimes interconnected in the most remarkable manner. Without mincing words, it could have worked as a novel with some of the most interesting and flawed characters charging or falling through life’s phases. It almost seems, sometimes, like the author eavesdropped on actual conversations with a camera, or better still, installed CCTV’s in homes and hotel rooms and hangouts. Take ‘I Put a Spell on You’, for instance, where Buddha and his friends talk about the fact that he experiences an erectile disfunction when he’s with other women, except for his wife, Moji. Dialogue and imagery are one of this book’s strongest points. Take the dialogue from page 106 for instance:

Tonse’s feet drummed a staccato as he snickered. When he was done, he asked, “What do you mean by your praka has stopped working?”

Buddha shrugged. “It just stopped. It no longer receives signals.” “What? How?” Buddha sighed and slunk in his chair, “I don’t know.” “Have you…you know…tried?” “Of course, I’ve tried. I’ve tried with all my girls.”

His slow-rolling thunder of a voice dropped to a pitiful rumble. “Nwokem, I need you to look at it.”

Tonse’s eyes widened. “You mean me?”

“Yes na! You’re the doctor.”

If its indeed true dialogue moves plot forward, this is what it does for Garricks’s stories.

Every piece in the collection is inspired by and titled after a song, and the writer and publisher were careful to ensure references were carefully noted. In fact, the characters appear to love music themselves. In the case of ‘Music’ (written under the influence of ‘Music’ by Erick Sermon & Marvin Gaye), Tukwashi has a burning desire to become a DJ. At the same time his womanising father leaves his mum for a younger woman. Little did Tukwashi know, his past would most likely shape who he becomes in ‘Desperado’ (Written under the influence of ‘Desperado’ by Eagles) where his failed marriage leads to a revelation that breaks the heart of the woman he loves.

In a Daily Trust report of February 26, 2020, the Speaker of the House of Representatives, Femi Gbajabiamila, decried cases of brutality and killing of civilians by policemen at a public hearing of the House Committee on Police Affairs, tagged ‘Repositioning the Nigerian Police for an Enhanced Service Delivery’ in Abuja. He expressed fear that the situation was putting the fundamentals of Nigeria’s nationhood at stake, saying the police must be urgently reformed and professionalised to restore public confidence in the institution. He said the relationship between the police and communities which had hitherto been of mutual respect had been replaced by fear, mutual antagonism and loss of faith in the ability of the police to protect and to serve the people.

A jab at the Nigeria Police Force, the inefficiency and corruption among its ranks, and especially the brutality exhibited by some of its members, is clear in ‘In The City’ (written under the influence of ‘In the City’ by Brymo) where the superstitious Corporal Enenche is in the habit of having blood (innocent or not) on his hands. But now, looking to retire from the force, he decides to play safe and keep his hands clean. Here, the author subtly shows how some policemen are quick to find shortcuts while on duty. For some, it doesn’t matter who’s killed or nabbed, as long as they get to shut a

case.

Another issue this work treats is the prevalence of cult activities in Nigeria’s tertiary institutions. When two friends gain admission into the university in ‘River’ (written under the influence of ‘River’ by Leon Bridges), they ignorantly join a cult group and soon discover they are already in too deep.

In ‘A Broken People’s Playlist’, endings are sometimes sad or worth a smile, but one thing is clear, they are neatly tied. The book’s beautiful cover, which shows a cassette’s tape hanging out, has a way of building expectations, and Garricks doesn’t disappoint. There’s a different flavour for diverse readers-the romantic, the mystery/ crime story addict, the sports fan and so on. Perhaps, after this offering, the author should rethink ignoring the novel form since his debut novel, ‘Tomorrow Died Yesterday’, was released in 2010. But before then, bookworms will sure have a swell time with his 2020 treat.