“I am a resident but not a citizen, and there’s a difference, especially because things are not working well in my country. That’s one reason I feel my absence more acutely,” he says. In 2004, Achebe turned down the honorary title of Commander of the Federal Republic in protest over the state of affairs in Nigeria. Would he do the same today? “Absolutely, without question. Though I don’t think they would make the mistake of offering it to me again,” he laughs.
In spite of political setbacks and healthcare issues, Achebe still dreams of moving back home. He wants to translate his novels from English into Igbo, “which I think would more or less round up my career.” He’s currently working with his son Ikechukwu, the only one of his children who lives in Nigeria, on an Igbo dictionary. Achebe’s other three children and all four grandchildren live in various parts of the US, from Red Hook to Michigan. “We’re all accidental exiles,” he says ruefully.
Eight years ago, Chinua Achebe told a New York Times interviewer, “There’s a reason we were planted in a certain place. Our people have a saying: The whole essence of travel is to go back home.” To that end, he’s working long-distance with an architect to modify a house in Ogidi for wheelchair access. I hope I’ll be able to go home soon,” he says, gazing out at the snowdrifts. “There’s so much to do.”
Local celebrations of Things Fall Apart’s 50th anniversary include events at Bard College, SUNY Ulster, and at locations in Poughkeepsie and Kingston.
Visit www.chronogram.com for more information.
