Rekindling the Flame

My childhood bloomed in Southeast Nigeria, where stories danced in the palm trees. Enugu, a city thrumming with literary history, held a special magic for me. Here, Achebe, Nwapa, and Adichie ignited imaginations and gifted the world with classics. But in 2013, when I arrived as a research librarian, reality hit me. The birthplace of giants boasted only one underfunded library, and the vibrant reading culture I had dreamt of was absent.

Enugu pulsed with youthful energy in its bars, yet beneath the surface, a disquiet simmered. Literacy rates dropped, creative spaces vanished, and a talent drain flowed toward Lagos and Abuja. This stark contrast ignited a question in me: How could storytelling bridge the gap and reignite Enugu’s literary flame?

Initially, I didn’t connect the absence of creative spaces with inequality. This perspective shifted when I began volunteering with education-focused organizations. These experiences exposed me to the harsh realities of urban slums in Enugu. The lack of aspiration among the inhabitants was startling; it was evident that this was a direct consequence of their limited exposure to books, art, and educational resources. I met individuals brimming with untapped potential and stories aching to be told. To them, libraries were merely a fanciful concept, and the idea of book or literary festivals was even more foreign.

Meanwhile, for those of us who cherished these resources, the dearth of literary and cultural platforms in Southeastern Nigeria was stifling. Attending a literary festival meant a trip to Ake in the Southwest, a journey that underscored our region’s neglect.

In response, I founded Crater Library & Publishers and launched the annual Crater Literary Festival. These initiatives aimed to bridge the gap by creating spaces for expression, fostering creativity, and nurturing a culture of literary pride in the Southeast. Yet in those early years, I often felt like a lone soldier. With no similar initiatives in the region, isolation crept in.

Seeking inspiration, I applied for the Library of Africa and the African Diaspora (LOATAD) digital residency in 2021. Stepping into LOATAD felt like entering a sanctuary. Towering shelves overflowed with African and diasporic literature, transforming history from a static relic into a time-traveling portal. Sylvia Arthur, LOATAD’s visionary founder, and her dedication to preserving African narratives resonated deeply with me. Surrounded by Hurston’s unflinching tales of resilience and Achebe’s prophetic prose, I grasped storytelling’s power to dismantle a colonized mind.

Back in Southeast Nigeria, the stark reality hit home. While our state government's focus seems fixated on "high-hanging fruits," quality educational resources remain scarce, libraries neglected, and a sense of disenfranchisement continues to eat away at our communities, contributing to the erosion of values. Scaling Crater’s work never felt more imperative, but one question has continued to haunt me: How do you empower a people to challenge the status quo and become agents of their own destinies?

Soon enough, I found allies in this vision. In 2022, I co-founded Afrochives Studio as a platform to capture and share Africa's cultural heritage, ensuring our precious narratives don't fade away. In 2024, I reached out to the Small World Project NGO because their practical, community-driven approach to building green libraries aligned perfectly with Crater’s objectives. When they proposed acquiring Crater to expand their Nigerian arm, the Iroko Tree Empowerment Initiative (ITEI), I embraced the partnership.

No longer a lone soldier, from Afrochives to ITEI, I now stand among collaborators reimagining sustainable solutions for our communities. The road ahead remains steep, but driven by purpose, I'll continue seeking and empowering kindred spirits. Together, we will build a society where stories thrive, curiosity is kindled, and every voice finds its stage.