By Uduma Kalu
This journey to the Area Scatter gravesite helps to establish the person of the legendary Igbo musician. It tells a part of his life story as one that has a beginning and an end. The end is the gravesite. It is the most significant part of the stories as it tells the journey that led to the discovery of Area Scatter's unmarked gravesite in front of an incomplete building.
I have told the story of our journey to his maternal home at Umuagwo and paternal village of Umuovurugo but this is specifically about the gravesite.
The journey to his paternal village is an independent story, telling about the end of Area Scatter's life and his family, as well as his post humus life.
The gravesite series encompasses interviews, the stories, songs, artefacts, intellectual analyses and many others much deeper than we had been told about the legend of Area Scatter.
In fact, most of what we heard at his paternal village revealed more than we knew about him. Because we met the 93 years old Area Scatter's' band men, Pako, who significantly opened up on the Area Scatter personality. Pako was hiding the information from everybody until I went there alone.
Dozie, my partner in the partner in the project, was busy with his own schedules and couldn't go with me. I was scheduled to travel to Lagos the next day Sunday for a visa interview that November week and so had to go alone.
It was a Saturday. The man unveiled so many things. Before he did that, it took a lot of work. He opened up grudgingly. It was a deep and long interview. No one had ever had such with him, he confessed, and he was willing to do more if given the opportunity.
The interview however opened up more layers of the Area Scatter mystery. Who really was he? How did he begin? Who really was his father? It's still a mystery. Pako told about Area Scatter's mother and sex life, marriage, escape back to her father's village and failed marriage.
The stories we got at his maternal village were like a child's memory of Area Scatter. The Umuovurugo story was the truer version told by his closest band leader and friend, the 93 years old man, an nze, a ruler in his community.
The gravesite story continued with interviews with Area Scatter's' paternal nephew, and later with the intellectual phenomenon, Professor Chidi Osuagwu, who cleared up the grey areas in the Area Scatter mystery, intellectually from cultural, religious, social and environmental perspectives.
We were determined to establish the humanity of the mysterious musician, Area Scatter, who many have come to describe in superhuman terms.
Some people said he didn't die but simply disappeared into thin air. Others said he died. His family had deepened the mystery. His maternal nephew, Ignatius, said Area Scatter was from the waters and worshipped water deities which effigies he kept as dolls in his house. For Ignatius, had his uncle continued to serve the deities, he wouldn't have died in that auto crash as he, Area Scatter, would have been notified. But Area Scatter, because of the woman he wanted to wed in the church, he abandoned the deities. Area Scatter would dress as a woman even in odd hours of the nights and entrap the village in full cover of night with his ethereal songs. On other days, Area Scatter would wear his traditional outfits of a woman to meander about the streets of Umuagwo in Ohaji local government area of Imo state to amuse the people. In fact, that was how Area Scatter got his stage name. His appearance in his music costumes in the village squares in his cross-cultural costumes sent the rural folks scampering.
Why did he do that? Entertainment? But who was he entertaining for in his cross dressing customers in the night? Who taught him music? Some said it was spirits in the forest where he got lost. Mysterious upon mysteries.
Something was wrong. And we were determined to find out to determine his humanity and personality, to root out the mysteries of his sexual orientation, among others. Was he a man? Who he a woman, or both?
We had been got some information from his Umuagwo maternal home. Sadly, we were more confused about the person of Area Scatter than we knew. So, this time we decided to go to his gravesite at his paternal home.
We had had near auto crises in the course of the investigation. And we felt Area Scatter's presence about us. The mysterious stories told by his nephew, Ignatius, perhaps, hit us more than we thought.
We took a bike and rode to the village, a community deep in the middle of nowhere. A young lad having fun with his motor bike frightened us by hitting our bike from the back. Our bike pushed forward. The driver held tight. I shouted. The boy laughed and drove away.
The town had a huge number of young population. And farming was their main occupation. Bikes were ubiquitous there. Why did he do that? I asked. Dozie said he himself was immune to auto accidents. He wasn't scared as I was. The boy would be the casualty in the case of accident with him. It was a sprawling village with signs of low and lower income owners. A thirty years old woman here looked old for them as they married too early. They are a very fair and beautiful people, I noticed. Like Area Scatter.
Our bike driver saw early marriage issue from another view. He told a story about his friend who married early but the couple decided not to have another child after the birth of their first child, a girl. They wanted to grow older before having another child. The fiancee was pregnant when he wedded her. Nine years later, the couple couldn't have a child and had been running from pillar to post for a child.
I asked whether they had a test. And told them about antigens and need to run a test on that as it could affect child bearing.
The journey continued. We noticed that the most ubiquitous buildings here were churches. They were not only very prominent they were huge buildings commanding the presence of the communities. Their large sign boards made sure you knew they were churches.
But they were schools too. And they looked dilapidated and abandoned. Weeds had taken over the places. And footballers were there playing their end of the year tournaments.
Theirs is a level land, being an extension of the lands that form part of the Atlantic Ocean and the Niger Delta. The sand is sharp and fertile.
We noticed brothels and it was a common sight, and shocking for such a rural and poor community. Borehole water was scarce. The hand pulled ones we saw that worked were ancient. Streams were their primary sources of water. There was no electricity. So they made due with generators, rechargeable gadgets, batteries and solar systems. The public electricity wires had been cannibalized and hung about the air like rags flying on the lines.
It has a dense population. The villages lived closely, sometimes poles apart. And the only tarred road that crossed the length of the town was old and needed repairs.
The 1980s governor, late Sam Mbakwe of old Imo state was said to have done the road. He was said to have a palm plantation there.
There was a dense forest of plantations: plantains, palm trees, fruit trees, cash crops. The plantations were large.
Finally, we arrived the Umuovurugo village of Area Scatter. It was a quiet low buildings village with that single tarred road stretching like a big python, though looking more like its skin dried in the sun. We took left from the school side we rode from. Area Scatter's home was at the end of the dead transformer, we were informed. Before we got to the transformer, we saw a lot that told us perhaps the background to the Area Scatter life. And his nephew, Ignatius, would explain to us later why it was so.
Because here were brothels in such a forgotten place where marriages were contracted at a very early stage. We saw teen ladies or in their early twenties carrying babies, performing their house chores, mainly cassava things which formed their main source of income. They sat in the front of their homes working.
There were bars, shops and stalls selling foodstuffs, fishes, fried stuffs. There was clean air and bikes zooming about. It was a level land.
At the transformer place, again, we asked about Area Scatter. He is a very popular person here. Unlike Prof Chinua Achebe and Prof Wole Soyinka in their hometowns of Ogidi , Anambra state, and Ake in the Abeokuta area of Ogun state, respectfully.
I remembered my journey in 1999 as a journalist to cover the reception of Achebe by his fellow writers, the Association of Nigerian Authors (ANA) at his Ogidi home when he returned after almost 10 years in exile.
We had arrived Ogidi through Benin and Onitsha hoping that the home folks would easily direct us to the house of their most famous and international personality, Chinua Achebe. No, they didn't recall the name, Chinua Achebe. Not even Things fall apart, his novel. We were confused. The media all over Nigeria and the world were awash with Achebe's arrival. But in his hometown, his people didn't know him. One lady had eventually helped us. She asked us whether it was the man that returned from the United States. Not Chinua Achebe. Not the author of the famous novel, Things fall apart.
We answered yes. And she told us how to get to the writer's house.
The same scenario had played out also when I was looking for the the first African Nobel laureate, Prof Wole Soyinka, in his his Ake home.
I was with my Guardian colleague, Sola Balogun. And we were looking for an interview with him on his birthday or something like that. We took off from Lagos as usual and got to Ake. It was more rural than Area Scatter's'. Achebe's was urban. Soyinka chose a forest away from the village to live. And in that village, we ran from pillar to post asking about Prof Wole Soyinka's home. None knew him.
After some conversations with Sola and some of the home folks in Yoruba, a lady got our description and said Soyinka used to visit her stall. He would come from that forest far off. She pointed at a cloud of forest in the distance. We set off for there. After some trekking in the bush, finally, we burst into a mansion in the forest, the house Soyinka built with his Nobel laureate prize money. He was not there.
Soyinka would recall this story later at a press conference in Lagos. He asked who wrote the story, "Soyinka: Rough Paths to His Bush House". I was there and he said I made a mistake calling him Soyinka there. In that village of his, Soyinka was not known as Soyinka but as Baba Makin.
I knew Makin, his son. He was always with Soyinka, his father, at most events, like his personal assistant. The Ake locals, in a true African culture, wouldn't call Soyinka by his name but as father of his child. The name of the child instead becomes the parents' name l. So, Soyinka is only Baba Makin to his people there. Not the writer, not Prof, not Soyinka as we called him there but which got us lost.
But Area Scatter was different. He was popular in his village. Almost everyone there knew him.
We turned back from the transformer spot, a kind of a market place, and turned left as directed.
A young woman was peeling her cassava in front of her house. We asked her how we could get to Area Scatter's house. She knew him instantly. And said it was just behind her house. We should turn right immediately we moved farther. That was his compound.
It was an unmade road in between houses but could pass for a street. Some of the fences were made of grasses and concrete blocks. And in the compounds, several families of the same family stock hibenated, working, playing, eating, shouting.
We did as the woman directed us. It was like most Igbo towns. The houses were under tree sheds, cash crops trees like kola nut trees, coconut, mango, plantain and so many other trees filled the area.
Then, we burst into the compound. Nothing special. Two main houses stood before us. On our left was a bungalow, old but looking good. It had a verandah with a burial poster hanging in front. He was Area Scatter's cousin and one of his former dancers. He died that year and was lately buried. He was 78 or so. Area Scatter had helped to renovate the building before his demise.
Facing us was another building, a bungalow. Painted blue. Between the two buildings was an old grave we thought was Area Scatter's.
Why wouldn't we think so, after all only Area Scatter mattered there for us? But we got to understand it was not his but one of his uncles.
On our right was the incomplete building, though abandoned at the lintel level. It was dark with age and worn by weather. It was still strong, no part was broken.
It was Area Scatter's house, we learnt later. It was about four rooms, unplastered, unroofed, just abandoned waiting for his children to complete.
We looked at the building. That was the building the musician was constructing before he died in an auto crash in his maternal village of Umuagwo. He had lived all his life there trying to eke out a living as a queer musician. He had made some money, hobnobbing with big political and entertainment wigs. And decided to build a home back in his paternal village, as a man should. In Igboland, a man must always return to his paternal home where he belonged. He had almost but finished the building when he was knocked down. Talk about his chi. Perhaps, it never wanted him back there.
On the verandah of the house, on its left side were white sands and and some rags. Children played there. The sands marked the Area Scatter gravesite. It was not a raised mound or sand, just sand on the floor. You needed to be told it was a grave for you to understand. And it's been there about 40 years.
We thought it was a wasteful opportunity, the gravesite. We meant a tourism site was wasting away. The Area Scatter gravesite should attractive tourists and entertainers there. But it was wasting away. His children that will do it are away.
We understood one was a barber at the Umuagwo area. Another played music in Port Harcourt, Rivers. But they weren't of the same mother.
One young man in his village there told us to visit the oldest nephew living further away. The oldest nephew was in his forties, we found out. The man was a catechist in the Catholic church. His house was a beehive of activities. His 18 years old daughter was wedding that Sunday. Yes, 18. He wouldn't talk that day. We should report back Monday.
Mondays were free days in Imo State and in the East. The separatist agitation there had seen to that.
It was a strange encounter with a strange people. I will share our encounter with him in my next piece.
But first, we had to report back to Area Scatter's nephew , Ignatius, at Umuagwo. He would explain to us what we saw there at Umuovurugo.
So, we returned to Umuagwo home of Ignatius and narrated our experience to him.
For us, it was a rough journey, like early explorers in the bowels of vegetations unknown. And the journey was long. The fares way too high, five times higher than we budgeted.
Ignatius was very happy to receive us back. He said he would do anything we wanted. We were like family now.
We told him of the need to continue the legacy of his uncle, Area Scatter. He didn't understand us. Our plan was to let him utilize the social media to showcase the Ohaji culture to the world with his daughters. We showed him videos of some Igbo cultural promoters on Facebook and other social media platforms such as Amarachi Attamah who performs and lectures in the US.
His daughters, we told him, could perform their uncle's music, the same way he did while adding other features like the dialect proficiency, the culture, environment, personalities, etc of the people . Such, we told him, would benefit the people.
"They are not interested," Ignatius said. I have four beautiful daughters, asa. But they are not interested. Area Scatter's' kids can do it. We had Area Scatter's guitar here , four, five years ago. The children just broke it. It was at the back yard. It was hung up there. They broke it accidentally."
Ignatius then explained the environmental behavior of his communities. We had told him of the brothels, early marriages and sex life of the people at Umuovurugo.
"Life is cool here," he began. "You can build your house here. The polytechnic here was stopped and moved to Omuma. Now, a university has replaced it. You have buildings. We play music here. Igbo music. So much showbiz."
He then told us the name of the most prominent brothel in Umuovurugo. Three Brothers. "That's how they do things there- tikotiko."
What's that? I asked. "That's means a kind of doing things by the people here. Yes, here's vibrating. Life is booming. They like relaxing and entertainment here. We have tombo (palm wine), bush meat, enjoyment berekete. Abacha sellers live here."
I asked him whether the lifestyle there affected their marriages. I meant, they were unfaithful in their homes? Ignatius replied like a philosopher.
" No woman is faithful. Are we faithful?"
He said he heard that Area Scatter's' son, a barber, went to Umuovurugo home of Area Scatter and took his father's pictures.
" He has been here too. He didn't know his father and never saw him. He was born after Area Scatter died. Area Scatter was a polygamous man. That's the simple truth."
We wanted to see the Area Scatter sponsor. We understood he was a king and had introduced the young musician to the elites of the Igbo, including the Ukonu's Club Show of the popular NTA, Aba. Area Scatter's' performance seen on YouTube is at the home of the king where he held court with his wife and chiefs.
"It's not necessary," he responded. "He's dead. The interview with me is okay."
He then brought pictures of Area Scatter's' performance. There he was performing. Ignatius was among those little boys sitting on the floor. Were they paid?
We were not paid," he said. They paid him. He didn't pay us. Why should he pay me? We were only watching his performance. He even played the masquerade mask, agaba. "
On the people of Area Scatter's paternal village, he described them as farmers surrounded by forests. And that land was available in his own Umuagwo village too.
" You can buy land here for N1.5m. I can get land for you. Land here is cheaper than in main town Owerri.
My son plays Area Scatter's music on his MP, " he noted.
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