The Guardian / UK: “Anthony Joshua: Fighting For Britain But Fuelled By Nigeria” By Chibundu Onuzo
World heavyweight boxing champion Anthony Joshua’s middle name is Oluwafemi. To those in the know, no other proof of his Nigerian heritage is needed: Femi is a common Yoruba name. There is also a map of Africa tattooed on one of Joshua’s large biceps, in which the outline of Nigeria is fetchingly highlighted.
Joshua once attributed his success to his frequent ingestion of pounded yam and egusi soup, a popular Nigerian dish. He said it with a laugh, but nothing could be more serious. Those muscles were not grown on fish and chips alone. (Ask the Star Wars actor John Boyega, another muscular eater of pounded yam and egusi.)
Alas, Joshua does not box under Nigerian colours because the country’s sporting officials failed to recognise his talent. In 2008 he attempted to box for Nigeria in the Olympics but was rejected. My nation’s loss, Britain’s gain.
Yet we know how fickle British support can be. When an athlete’s star is on the rise, he or she is British. Should any mishap occur along the way, their more distant origins are dug up by the British press. I hope Joshua’s star continues to rise and rise. Thus I also hope never to see his Nigerian origins trumpeted.
Predictive texts
Speaking of Nigeria’s losses, millions of dollars have been turning up in rather unexpected places this year. In February US$9.8m (£7.5m) in cash was said to have been found in a house owned by Andrew Yakubu, a former director general of the Nigerian government-owned petroleum company, NNPC. Last month $43m in cash was discovered in an apartment in Lagos after a tipoff to a government agency. To date, no one has stepped forward to claim the money.
It is curious for me to read these news stories, considering the plot of my most recent novel, Welcome to Lagos. In it, $10m of stolen government money ends up in an abandoned flat in Lagos. Well, call me a prophet. But it can be a dangerous position to be in. Chinua Achebe once wrote of a coup, in his novel A Man of the People. When an actual coup happened shortly after its launch, it was assumed he was privy to the plot.
As I embark on my next project, these sudden predictive powers weigh heavily on me. What if I wrote a novel where an active racist became president of France? Or a US president started a nuclear war with a small Asian country? Or I could use my powers for more selfish gain: a novel in which a Nigerian writer moves to England, writes a book and becomes a billionaire from the ensuing sales, films and merchandise.
Or maybe I’ll try something more modest, and write a book where my main character finds a seat on the tube during rush hour.
Shedding libraries
Whatever the story, it is highly likely that I’ll write some of my next novel in a public library … that’s if there are any left.
I went to my local library last week and was shocked to see that all the librarians had disappeared. Everything was done by machine. You key in a code to enter; you scan your books out or in. But there was no one at the desk to answer questions or make a recommendation, or just point out where the toilets were. There was a woman outside the entrance explaining the new setup, and she said that without this drastic change the library would close down because of lack of funding.
Perhaps if the previous government hadn’t made so many cuts to library funding, David Cameron wouldn’t have had to spend £25,000 on a shed to write his memoirs in. He’d just trundle off to a local library with his ideas and a laptop.
