By Aniekan Elbina

Ayodele Kadiri’s memoir – The First Five Years – chronicles the major phases in her journey to selfhood. Unsurprisingly, therefore, the inimitable author’s travails and triumphs are essential ingredients for this classic literary recipe.

It covers what she considers as relevant and significant milestones in her life as: a secondary school student in Queen’s College, Lagos; an undergraduate in the law faculty of the University of Lagos; her one-year stint in the Nigerian Law School, Abuja Campus; her one-year of National Service; and five very challenging albeit highly rewarding years, as a practising lawyer.

According to the author, this literary project is a direct response to a divine mandate. And the ultimate motive is for it to serve as a beacon of light to the teeming generation of youngsters in our clime, many of whom are plagued with deep feelings of desperation and despondency.
Even though the road to self-actualization appears long and tortuous, she is convinced that they can replicate, or even surpass, her undoubtedly enviable achievements. That, she emphasizes, is very much within their power to achieve if only they anchor their life’s pursuits on self-knowledge – the type that aligns with divine purpose.

The author’s peculiar educational experiences, from Queen’s College to the Nigerian Law School, constitute a veritable build-up that culminated in her half-a-decade post-call struggles and exploits. Taking this into account, there is an inextricable connection, which makes the context and structure aptly pertinent.

Again, the context and structure are in order, given the fact that the main thrust of the work is on the various levels of challenges she had to contend with in the course of traversing the narrow and rugged paths of self-awareness, self-acceptance and self-affirmation. Realising, and being comfortable with, her unique personality, natural disposition and worldview in the face of an avalanche of disquieting forces tending to pull or push her against her internal principle runs consistently through the entire piece.
So, undeniably, there is a “common thread,” and the context and structure buttress that, unequivocally.
Nonetheless, the snag is that the title – The First Five Years – is not quite consistent with the structure. It depicts, somewhat, a parochial view of the piece. I suppose a more befitting title should be such that encapsulates, literally or metaphorically, the whole gamut of experiences captured and highlighted in the memoir.

In view of this, I suggest: “Selfhood,” with the rider, “Crossing the Rubicon.” It bears pointing out that this suggestion has nothing to do with its “popular appeal” or “commercial viability.” Rather, it is strictly a matter of intrinsic structural necessity.
Also, deploying capital letters and their varying combinations to depict human and institutional characters in a bid to render them anonymous in the story is, without doubt, ingenious. However, it depersonalizes the human characters, thereby making the whole piece too abstract and unnatural for comfort. This ought to be a human angle story, deserving of the natural flavour that accompanies normal but fictitious personal names in view of its guiding principles. But, with this style, it reads more like some prosaic treatise on pure mathematics or theoretical physics.
In addition, imagine the phrase: “… myself and AND…” or “…me and AND…” Could anything be more comically confusing, in terms of semantics? I strongly doubt.

One equally finds it irresistible not to ask: What actually informs the choice of these letters or their combinations? Could they probably represent the initials of the characters’ real names? Or, are they chosen arbitrarily?
There is an additional issue: Many of the letter combinations are outright unpronounceable, and, as such, heightens the reader’s confusion in terms of relating in a familiar manner with each of these characters.
Ultimately, the flow – that is, the rhythm and tempo – of the work is dealt a mortal blow. The choice of explaining these human characters as an epilogue does very little to arrest this challenge. The author should explore the possibility of using more fictional names like: “Mama Charlie” and “Mystic.” They would serve much better.

Another point worth mentioning is that the “imported” materials are virtually littered with words having “sic” as their travelling companion. It is a bit boring, and tends to undermine the fact that, beside its motivational angle, this literary project is a valid and valuable contribution to education.
Then, a question bordering on consistency: Why refer to “Fidelis Oditah, QC, SAN” as well as the law firms,”G. Elias” and “Stephenson Harwood LLP,” using their real names, instead of the expected fictitious equivalents? Are there justifiable reasons?
Finally, the world hails anyone whose life leaves praise-worthy trails. And there is no denying the fact that Ayodele Kadiri deserves all the accolades humanity can afford. Utmost respect to her!