By Kelechi Njoku
Pemi Aguda is a fearless storyteller. In June, she was announced winner of the Writivism Short Story Prize in Kampala Uganda, for her story “Caterer, Caterer”. The 400-dollar Prize, which is in its third year, has birthed a stunning array of short fiction from Africa whose thrusts are difficult to box in. Pemi and I got talking days after the awards ceremony about the quiet fierceness in her stories, her photography projects, and the impact her day job as an architect has had on her writing.
Your stories defy restriction—and I’m speaking in the moral sense, for what that’s worth—like you are steadily testing to see how far you can push the reader’s mental boundaries before they crumble. I saw this in The Thing with Mr. Lawal, for instance, where a young woman is asked out by her father’s rival for her late mother’s hand; and there was this other story Naming where you take on marital infidelity with some sympathy. Is this deliberate?
Pemi Aguda is a fearless storyteller. In June, she was announced winner of the Writivism Short Story Prize in Kampala Uganda, for her story “Caterer, Caterer”. The 400-dollar Prize, which is in its third year, has birthed a stunning array of short fiction from Africa whose thrusts are difficult to box in. Pemi and I got talking days after the awards ceremony about the quiet fierceness in her stories, her photography projects, and the impact her day job as an architect has had on her writing.
Your stories defy restriction—and I’m speaking in the moral sense, for what that’s worth—like you are steadily testing to see how far you can push the reader’s mental boundaries before they crumble. I saw this in The Thing with Mr. Lawal, for instance, where a young woman is asked out by her father’s rival for her late mother’s hand; and there was this other story Naming where you take on marital infidelity with some sympathy. Is this deliberate?
It’s always interesting to the see these connections and patterns drawn from the stories I’ve written, by others. But during the writing, I’m hardly conscious of any bigger themes. I always say that my subconscious does more work than I do; I’m the lazy one in this partnership. So, no – it isn’t deliberate, this defiance. But it’s a pattern I’m glad you’ve made me aware of because I do believe that your reaction to a situation could change drastically if the eye-view, your perspective, was tilted ever so slightly.
Do you worry then that readers might mistake some of your characters for you?
No, it isn’t something I worry about. If anything, I sometimes wish my life was one to inspire stories, but alas…
I loved the narrator of Caterer, Caterer. She was flippant yet very methodical, the way her mind worked. She seemed able to gather events to herself, analyse them and come to her own answers, and could recognize some good out of her husband’s crippling accident. I couldn’t help wondering if she has sociopathic tendencies.
Do you worry then that readers might mistake some of your characters for you?
No, it isn’t something I worry about. If anything, I sometimes wish my life was one to inspire stories, but alas…
I loved the narrator of Caterer, Caterer. She was flippant yet very methodical, the way her mind worked. She seemed able to gather events to herself, analyse them and come to her own answers, and could recognize some good out of her husband’s crippling accident. I couldn’t help wondering if she has sociopathic tendencies.
Haha! Well, perhaps. As the caterer said, it’s nice to be loved back; even if there’s a broken leg between here and there.
I’m glad you liked the narrator, I did too. I also held on tightly during the editing process to keep most of the Nigerian English as it was.
Maybe there’s a little of me in this character; in the way I will avoid confrontation – and have stilted conversations – but will process everything afterward till most things are tied up neatly in my mind, or not. Where there is no luxury of eloquence, there’s a lot of analytic soliloquy (in the head).
I can relate to that very writerly problem! So, does being an architect touch on your work as a writer, or are there two very separate Pemi Agudas at work in these professions?
I’m glad you liked the narrator, I did too. I also held on tightly during the editing process to keep most of the Nigerian English as it was.
Maybe there’s a little of me in this character; in the way I will avoid confrontation – and have stilted conversations – but will process everything afterward till most things are tied up neatly in my mind, or not. Where there is no luxury of eloquence, there’s a lot of analytic soliloquy (in the head).
I can relate to that very writerly problem! So, does being an architect touch on your work as a writer, or are there two very separate Pemi Agudas at work in these professions?
There’s similarity in the processes. There’s an idea. There’s honing the idea. Then there are the structural technicalities to make sure the built work doesn’t fall on its own head; or yours.
You are involved in some photography and fashion work under Nik-Nak. What made you go into that?
You are involved in some photography and fashion work under Nik-Nak. What made you go into that?
I particularly loved the one you did about Lagos with Tunde Mason.
Oh, that was fun. Tunde is an emotive photographer and I’m sure everyone’s been inspired by Lagos somehow. Nik-Nak is a lot more than fashion and photography, though. There’s art, architecture, music, everything! It’s just Kovie and I sharing the random rad things the internet and friends send our way. Exalting the beauty in the mundane, letting more people find those obscure but golden ideas that we think deserve a bigger audience.
Let’s talk about the entire Writivism experience. How was it?
Oh, that was fun. Tunde is an emotive photographer and I’m sure everyone’s been inspired by Lagos somehow. Nik-Nak is a lot more than fashion and photography, though. There’s art, architecture, music, everything! It’s just Kovie and I sharing the random rad things the internet and friends send our way. Exalting the beauty in the mundane, letting more people find those obscure but golden ideas that we think deserve a bigger audience.
Let’s talk about the entire Writivism experience. How was it?
Tahirah, my buddy, had mentioned the Short Story Prize, so I sent ‘Caterer, Caterer’ in. It was my favourite at the time. I always think “What are the odds?” with prizes but the stars smiled at me this time. I kept saying I only wanted the shortlist; because who doesn’t love free travel? And honestly, that was the winning for me – being able to attend the festival. The week made such an impression on me – as a writer, as a person, as an observer of the world. It was sometimes overwhelming to be in the same space with such… thinkers. The writers I listened to, learned from, have been such an (pardon-the-cliché) inspiration to me. Winning was a bonus. An unexpected one. I saw a video that captured those moments and it was one eternal cringe of awkwardness.
What does winning the Prize mean for you now?
Well, it’s validation. Say what you will about validation from others, but it feels excellent. Especially because I’m such a big fan of the judges this year, I’m ecstatic.
Should we look forward to a novel, a collection of stories maybe?
Oh, the pressure! I’ll keep writing my short stories for now, and if they end up sharing the pages of a book – awesome.
Kelechi Njoku lives in Abuja where he works as an editor and ghostwriter. His fiction appears in several publications, online and print; and he was shortlisted for the Writivism Prize in 2014.
What does winning the Prize mean for you now?
Well, it’s validation. Say what you will about validation from others, but it feels excellent. Especially because I’m such a big fan of the judges this year, I’m ecstatic.
Should we look forward to a novel, a collection of stories maybe?
Oh, the pressure! I’ll keep writing my short stories for now, and if they end up sharing the pages of a book – awesome.
Kelechi Njoku lives in Abuja where he works as an editor and ghostwriter. His fiction appears in several publications, online and print; and he was shortlisted for the Writivism Prize in 2014.
http://writivism.com/?p=2804
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