Interview with Author Oriri E. Oriri on "Tradition" and "Modernity" in a Cross River Community

Oriri Ekom Oriri hails from Àkpàràbóng, an Éjághám–speaking rural community in the Íkóm Local Government Area of Nigeria's Cross River State. His first novel, The Hunt, published by Calabar in 2010, describes in fascinating detail the indigenous institutions of his community: the Mgbè (Ékpè) "leopard" society for justice, the Mònínkìm coming of age rites for women, the age-grade system for community organization, and traditional marriage rites. The book then shows how westernization—the influence of Christianity, money and the police—transformed these traditional institutions. While Chinua Achebe's Things Fall Apart examines the tragic effect of western influence at the start of the British empire, The Hunt is set firmly in the late twentieth century. In keenly observed detail, Oriri's story sets forth the transformation of a community in the face of an uncertain modernity.

Ivor Miller:

The Hunt describes traditional life in a rural community in the upper Cross River region of southeastern Nigeria, near the Cameroon border with Mamfe. What inspired you to write The Hunt?

Oriri Oriri:

The Hunt for me is a product of my growing up experience in a traditional setting in Àkpàràbóng, a farming community where yams are the major crop. The traditional name is Èkpàràbóng, meaning "ram," because when under attack, our ancient people sent rams to destroy the aggressors' yam barns, thus bringing famine upon [their enemies], in order to attack them when they were weak. In my youth our traditions were functional, and I saw so many cultural practices that inspired me, including the social organization into age grades for both males and females, and how the elders governed the community

Firelei Báez, Crewel, 2013.

Photo: STUDIO LHOOQ

to maintain law and order. But as I matured, I witnessed a lot of the culture being eroded. I realized that we were losing most of our tradition, so I was inspired to record vital aspects of the culture for posterity; this was the background to my writing The Hunt.

Ivor Miller:

What anecdotes do you have about the culture of Àkpàràbóng and its eventual destruction?

Oriri Oriri:

In the 1950s and '60s Àkpàràbóng was a local community with very little external influence in terms of administration. We had government authorities at the local level, but any police officer who wanted to effect an arrest in Àkpàràbóng would first report at the palace of the mìnén-émàng [the "overall chief"]; he would never come to Àkpàràbóng and move straight into anybody's house to make an arrest; it was the chief who assisted the government functionaries to carry out their job by summoning the suspect to the palace. The chiefs had authority within the community to maintain law and order. Mgbè, in English the "leopard" society, was one of the instruments they used as an administrative organ. For instance, in the opening chapter of The Hunt, I describe a situation wherein somebody had committed an offense against the community, and when the chiefs tried to manage the situation the accused was recalcitrant, so they brought the matter to Mgbè, and Mgbè brought its force to bear, and they were able to tame him and bring him under control. These things occurred quite often in my growing-up years, and people obeyed Mgbè rules for the benefit of all.

In those days, there were clear rules. For example, you dare not fight somebody in the bush or the farm. If you fought in the bush, both parties were fined heavily; whatever level of provocation, one was compelled to return and report to the community for the chiefs to look into the matter. It was perceived that if people fought in the bush, somebody could be killed or hurt very badly. If you fought, it didn't matter who was right or wrong, both parties...