Le Carrelat
06230 St. Jean-Ferrat
France
18th June, 1965
Dear Tayo,
How could you possibly think that you were boring me? I want lots of letters — beaucoup de lettres! — and even longer ones, but make them less polite and formal next time. Tell me how much you’ve been missing me and how much you dream of me, otherwise I’ll start to wonder what you’re up to with those northern lasses!
I do wish you were here. The weather is beautifully warm, just as you’d like it, and we spend most of our time outdoors. Most days I cycle to the nearby town of Beaulieu, to the outdoor market where we buy fresh breads, pastries and smelly cheeses (I know you’re not a fan, but just wait till you come). In the afternoons I visit the local café and sip my café-au-lait, while fending off all the French men (ha ha!), and then I gaze across the Côte d’Azur and dream of you.
And in between these dreams, I’ve been reading the books you suggested, starting with Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart and No Longer at Ease. I enjoyed them and think I might review one for Isis, so you’ll have to help me. Achebe has such a wonderful way with descriptions! Do you remember the scene in No Longer at Ease when, in the words of Obi, Achebe describes the dancing women with waists swivelling as effortlessly as oiled ball bearings? What a wonderful image! I’m looking forward to discussing his writing with you when I see you. I only wish that his stories were not so tragic, but perhaps the tragedy highlights the dilemmas of post-independence, which brings me to your Perham review.
I feel so flattered that you sent it to me and asked for my opinion. What do I think? I think it’s fab! I don’t have much to add except that reading Achebe made me wonder whether it might be worth mentioning somewhere in the piece that Africans themselves are sensitive to the difficulties inherent in the new post-colonial world.
I also have a few more minor suggestions. First, for the purposes of Spear magazine and its West African readership, I think you should provide background information on Dame Margery. Mention that she’s an Oxford don and that her family has a lengthy history within the service. By the way, Father says that Perham was ‘a royal pain’ for the Colonial Service and much more provocative than we give her credit for. Also, I think you should consider structuring the review more tightly around what I see as your principle criticisms of Perham’s work.
1. An underestimation (dismissal almost) of Africa’s pre-colonial history — a little like Trevor-Roper.
2. Failure to acknowledge the potential of Africa’s new leaders (e.g. Senghor, Kenyatta and Nkrumah).
3. The belief that independence was granted too swiftly to African states (here is where you might reference Achebe). I’ve also corrected one or two grammatical errors — you’ll see them marked in red. Well done and très bien!
Reading your review has made me think more about what we discussed vis-a-vis my own journalistic writing. Perhaps I should write more, and especially this year with no exams. If Isis is still looking for an Arts Reviewer, I’ll apply for the position and, if I’m accepted, be prepared to accompany me to films, exhibitions and jazz.
I’m off to lunch now with Jane and some French men, so you’d better write soon! Loads of love, kisses, hugs and anything else you dare to imagine.
Nessa
x
6 Aberdeen Road, Bradford
30th June, 1965
My dear Vanessa,
Thank you so much for your letter and I’m glad to hear that you’re having such a splendid holiday. Now as for those men at the café, I hear that French men can be quite romantic so don’t let them woo you with their sweet talk and philosophy! Remind them that you have a sweeter man waiting for you in England and, in the meantime, I will do my best to ward off all these northern lasses.
So here I am in Tunde’s small but cosy house with the evenings to myself when Yusuf and Tunde are working. I realise more than ever how fortunate I’ve been to receive a Balliol scholarship. Most African students spend long hours working to make ends meet, and I wonder how they manage to pass their exams with so little sleep. Tunde works from 10.00 at night until 6.00 in the morning at the local bakery. Yusuf also takes night shifts, at the hospital. There are apparently many Africans working as orderlies, and most are assigned to the geriatric ward where others are not so willing to work. I find this sad because in Africa old people are respected and their families look after them. We never put old people in homes so maybe that’s why Nigerians always staff these geriatric wards, and I hear that the matron also favours Africans because she used to live in Nigeria as a missionary.
Northern England seems very different from the south. People are friendlier, on the whole, although one does occasionally see those signs: ‘No Dogs. No Irish. No Coloureds’. It’s disappointing, but the Africans here don’t seem too bothered — they know they are here for just a limited time.
Yesterday, I accompanied Tunde to the bakery. One of his mates was sick, and I offered to take his place loading bread. It was an interesting experience and it gave me some insight into Bradford society. I found that the Pakistanis and Indians are the ones working the ovens, which is the hardest and messiest job because the ovens get very hot and dirty. Many of them don’t speak English but they have a translator by the name of Samir, who loves to talk politics. The Africans, mainly students (all of whom speak English) have the slightly better task of loading freshly baked breads, scones and teacakes onto the carts and wheeling them to the loading zone. This, by the way, was my job. The least strenuous job of all, which is packing the goods and loading them onto the dispatch trucks, is reserved for the English. So that’s the pecking order: Pakistanis and Indians on the bottom, Africans in the middle, and English on top.
Last week I visited York. Have you been? It’s full of history and I enjoyed walking along the old Roman wall. There is also the Minster, which is magnificent. At times, when I see things like this, I wish we had similar marks of history in West Africa; there’s so few visual reminders of our past remain. This is when I realise how important it is for us to record and preserve our oral histories for future generations. But, by now, you must be tired of this letter that has become longer than intended, although you did ask for a long letter!
Oh, and I mustn’t forget to thank you soooo much for reading my Perham review and providing the helpful feedback. I’ve entitled it: An African’s Response: Reflections on Dame Margery Perham’s Colonial Reckoning. What do you think? I miss you dreadfully, Vanessa, but I’ll sign off for now and await your reply.
Kind regards to your mother and father,
Yours truly,
Tayo