Postcolonial Speculative Fiction

"Spider the Artist" in Nnedi Okorafor’s Kabu-Kabu

I am not an English major, and so I never heard of the term found poem until, by accident, I created one by listing all my favorite quotes in “Spider the Artist” in the order I found them.
The quotes, from the story’s female narrator, Eme, appealed to me because they were honest declarations with no excuses or blame shifting.
 

Favorite Statements

“My village was shit” (101)
“But I married a stupid man” (102)
"We are pipeline people" (102)
“Nigeria supplies 25% of U.S. oil and we get nothing in return.
Nothing but death by zombie attack” (105-106)
“I was stuck” (107)
“I needed courage” (107)
“My life is shit” (108)
“I began to hope” (109)
“They were thinking creatures” (113)
“Whoooooooosh” (114)
“So I lived” (115)


The statement that strikes me the most is “We are pipeline people”. What does it mean to be pipeline people? According to a Google search of Nigeria pipeline people, the results show a list of headlines announcing the numbers of people found dead after a pipeline explosion. The images show similar stories of explosions and people’s lives disrupted. The information offers little about how people are living along the pipelines.  From this information, people are miraculously alive despite having to cohabitate with pipes carrying flammable fuel.

Interestingly, in “Spider the Artist” the pipeline explosion saves Eme’s life.

“My life is shit”
Eme was a fourth-generation woman living with the pipeline running through her village. Her great grandmother used to lay on the pipe and listen to the fuel, which she called “magical fluids”, sloshing down the pipes (102-103). What was once new and mysterious became a deadly borderland between human survival and the Anansi spider droids, kill on contact protectors of the pipeline. The narrator’s village was made shit by the introduction of the pipelines, her husband was forced into stupid activities, like bunkering, to survive. Her life was stuck and shit because the fuel poisoned her village’s water, that “shriveled women’s wombs,” leaving her childless (101).




“They are thinking creatures”

Udide Okwanka was the name Eme gave to her secret musical spider droid companion. They met each evening in the three-foot easement, the kill zone, between the pipe and her yard. There they communicated with music. Her guitar “wanted to tell you its story because only it could” (102). Udide’s music was like “communing with god” (111). The exchange was courage and hope.



“Whooooooosh”
Udide set the spark so the bunkered fuel and its takers would die, but shielded Eme so she could finally start her life. “So I lived”.

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