In this piece, I want to specifically pose the question of how literature and literary writing can serve the purpose of representing the significance of the public service to the Nigerian public. Narrating the nature, significance and dynamics of the public service, admittedly, is the sphere of the social sciences—especially of political science and public administration. But then, why can literature not come to the aid of the political scientists cum administrative scholar-practitioner in documenting the ups and downs of the public service and its role in enabling good governance?

Literary writings narrate humanity. The human experiences and endeavors in ways that reveal horizons and frontiers of possibilities while also laying bare the depth and dynamics of the familiar. The literary eye sees beyond the normal and transcends the ordinary. All literature reveals their time and context; and this is why literature is a dangerous endeavor: it poses narrative questions that do not reveal easy answers.

And yet these questions enable us, if we keep unraveling them long enough, to find a way out of our mental cocoons, according to Elif Shafak, the Turkish novelist. We can all easily agree with C. S. Lewis therefore: “Literature adds to reality; it does not simply describe it. It enriches the necessary competencies that daily life requires and provides; and in this respect, it irrigates the deserts that our lives have already become.”

Is the writer then a revolutionary? From Chinua Achebe to Naguib Mahfouz, Wole Soyinka to Mariama Ba, from Niyi Osundare to Abdulrazak Gurnah, from Ngugi waThiong’oto Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie and from Nadine Gordimer to Odia Ofeimun, we have writers who have championed a rebellious forthrightness in narrating the conditions for the existence of their postcolonial existence and future. We have writers who enable us to see our ordinary experiences and to transcend them. Let us take Odia Ofeimun’s The Poet Lied (1980) as a starting example.

That poetry collection signals Ofeimun’s sensibility as a poet who has a deep understanding of the sociopolitical and economic anguish Nigerians have been going through for much of Nigeria’s sixty-five years of existence. As a poet, according to him, “I cannot blind myself/To putrefying carcass in the market place.” In the poet titled “A Foot Note,” Ofeimun laments:

In our model democracy
The magic promises of yesterday
Lie cold like mounds of dead cattle
Along caravans that lead nowhere…

More specifically, in “A Civil Servant,” Odia Ofeimun highlights a critical dimension of any civil and democratic government in terms of the machinery that makes any government function efficiently. This is in terms of policy formulation and service delivery of the dividends of democracy to the citizens.
A dull day:

You sit on the dung-heap of boredom,/ a lizard/ basking in the cold sunshine/of banal precedents.
Your lymphatic smile/is decorated with the painless anguish
of pedestrian hours/An idle star/streaks across your sky

This dull day/you bear the unproductive patience/ of a dismantled industrial spider/you cannot say, for certain, what you want. This poem represents not only a scathing critique of the neglect of the civil service by any Nigerian government, a neglect that makes the civil servant “sit on the dung-heap of boredom” like a lizard basking in a “cold sunshine.” It is also a poem that hits very hard and poetically at what I have called the bureau-pathology of the Nigerian public service, and its capacity for blind conformance at the expense of productive efficiency. A civil servant, Ofeimun aptly remarks, bears the “unproductive patience” of a “dismantled industrial spider”!

In Niyi Osundare’s “My Lord, Tell Me Where to Keep Your Bribe,” written in 2016 at the height of the corruption scandals that traumatised the sensibility of Nigerians, and especially the undermining of the professional integrity of the Nigerian judiciary. Imagine a servant bowing constantly in fake submissiveness, and asking, “My Lord, where should I keep this bribe?” merely asking that question, with the two contraries of “Lord” and “bribe”, already implies a deep and bruising moral judgement.

When we conjoin that with the suggestions of the various hiding places, then we see that the judge being addressed has already, in the space of that monologue, been stripped of all honour. In “No Hiding Place for Politicians,” Osundare was at his poetic height in railing against corruption, embezzlement, clientelism and the betrayal of democratic trust. Take just these lines:

When the man of power/ Tells you his tale/Ask him to wait till/
You bring a sieve/Whoever believes what the politician says
His ear is blocked by the carcass of truth/A politician tells you to wait/And you heed his words…
Your sole will tell you/The biting pains of folly
To be continued tomorrow.
Prof. Olaopa is Chairman, Federal Civil Service Commission.
He delivered this lecture at the Association of Nigerian Authors (ANA) Abuja Chapter 70th Birthday Event/Celebration of Dr Wale Okediran and a Reading/Writers Dialogue in Abuja, recently.