Introduction
Across the world, in the face of current ecological challenges and environmental degradation, scholars, activists, and policymakers have (re)discovered the role that faith, religion, and spirituality can play in what the late Kenyan environmental activist, Wangari Maathai (
2010), has called ‘replenishing the earth’: that is, restoring a harmonious relationship between humankind and the natural world we live in. As part of this quest, renewed interest has also been shown in the ecological knowledges enshrined in indigenous religions (
Taylor 2010). Specifically in Africa, the natural environment occupies a primal position in the dialectics of African indigenous religions. This is predicated upon the symbiotic affinity that exists between African indigenous religions and the environment. The interlink between the two phenomena is what Jacob Olupona (
2006) termed the ecology of religion. According to Olupona, one cannot engage in environmental discourse in Africa without reference to indigenous religious beliefs and practices, because the natural environment constitutes a major part of African cosmology. That is why the pollution bedevilling the African continent and other places in the Global South is perceived not as an ecological crisis that deserves scientific and political responses alone but one that also needs urgent religious and cultural interventions. The significance of this, as Olupona aptly observed, is that religious and cultural forays into ecological concerns in Africa explore the manner in which indigenous religions and spirituality are linked to the environment. Thus, religion becomes a veritable tool in engaging ecological concerns in the continent (
van Klinken 2022). Against this background, the pollution which despoils the environment is perceived as an ecological emergency that has serious religious and spiritual implications for people and communities. In the context of the Niger Delta, the degradation of the environment and its effects on religious hallowed grounds and totemic spaces form major thematic preoccupations in its poetry (
Ojaide 2023). As an offshoot of African ecological poetry, Niger Delta poetry engages themes that revolve around the effects of environmental emergencies on land, water, and air (
van Opijnen 2021). While examining the degradation of land, surface, and below-ground level contamination of water, and the flaring of poisonous gases which toxifies the air, the poetry also amplifies the often-neglected complex tapestry of religion in the region.
Scholarship on Niger Delta pollution has often explored the subject from varied perspectives, such as socio-political (
Nwozor 2020), economic (
Agbonifo 2022), human security (
Akhakpe 2012), and militancy and terrorism (
Aworawo 2013). Relatively few studies have engaged the environment within the literary discourse of ecopoetry (
Egya 2016;
van Opijnen 2021). This leaves a dearth of studies on environmental pollution within this context especially. There is a need for more studies to improve the existing body of literature on the discourse of religion and ecology, eco-spirituality, eco-trauma, and ecopoetry. Explaining why poetry is an essential perspective to the issues of environmental pollution, Ingrid Molderez, Diana Baraniuk, and Wim Lambrechts (
2021) opined that it gives an important perspective in engaging complex sustainability challenges as it possesses a reasonable potential for an innovative approach to addressing the pressing issue of sustainability. These scholars attributed this potential to poetry’s enduring features as an enabler of reflection and emotions. This makes it a veritable medium for engaging the trauma of environmental pollution. Thus, poetry is unique in capturing the mental wounds and trauma caused by degradation and for engaging in meaning-making.
This article begins with an overview and conceptualisation of the key concepts, and a review of the existing literature in the area. It then discusses the convergence of religions and ecology in African literature by examining Tanure Ojaide’s and Stephen Kekeghe’s poetry. It thus highlights their distinct contributions to the burgeoning interdisciplinary discourse of religion, ecology, and Niger Delta poetry; and the place of religions in engaging and solving environmental crises in the region.
Conceptualising traumatogenic metaphors and religious motifs
As a rhetorical device, metaphors are simply imaginative depictions. They are manners of speaking in which one thing is expressed in terms of another (
Kopp 1971). They make direct representations or comparisons of ideas by referring to something not closely related. In the submission of Agnes Okpe (
2017), metaphors are phenomena that entail the transference of the attributes of one entity to another. They thus provide imaginative systems of communicating concepts that are complex or unclear (
Van Engen 2008). The vivid metaphor that represents horrific incidents is what is termed a traumatogenic metaphor. These are graphic depictions of trauma-related incidents that are capable of inciting shock and mental wounds. This is in line with Robert Van Engen’s (
2008) submission that the depth of metaphor affects the physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual aspects of human existence. The deployment of traumatogenic metaphors in the representation of disturbing incidents thus aids in capturing the full import of the occurrence and also enables readers to relive the experience. In the context of the Niger Delta, the use of these double-edged metaphors highlights the multiplicity and intensity of the impact of pollution which has crippled not only the economy of the region but also affected the spiritual life of the people. As will be seen in the analysis, traumatogenic metaphors are capable of generating trauma responses because of the accurate depictions that are true to life.
Religious motifs, on the other hand, are recurring elements or symbols that lend credence to the beliefs and spiritual practices of a people or religious community. They are insignias that denote subterranean spiritual messages that form a significant part of a religion (
Trocha 2022). A religious motif simply describes or names religious phenomena; it is a phenomenon that identifies the characteristics of something that is of religious value. They can also be a body of knowledge which is of symbolic significance to a culture or religious group. For Eric Asante, Steve Kquofi, and Stephen Larbi (
2015), these motifs are a storehouse of information regarding the beliefs and social norms of the people. They went further to note that the motifs are markers that something of a religious nature takes place in the story or is mentioned in a text.
The exploration of religious motifs in literature has received some critical engagements. Scholars, such as Cornelis Nijland (
2001), Paul Binford (
2011), Bogdan Trocha (
2022), and Milena Mileca-Blazic and Arburim Iseni (
2023), have explored its usage in literary texts. While Nijland examines it with specific attention to the religious formation of poets, Binford probes common mythological motifs in literature and their interlinks. Exploring it in contemporary speculative fiction, Trocha interrogates how they react to social trends and tendencies existing in popular culture. None of these studies examines religious motifs from an ecological standpoint in poetry; in this article I thus attempt to address this gap. In doing so, I build on perspectives from ecology of religion and trauma theory.
As an interpretative paradigm, ecology of religion focuses on religion as it is practised by people in a given environment. It is concerned with the spiritual adaptation of humans to their natural environment. For Ake Hultkrantz (
1987), ecology of religion examines the relationship between the natural environment and the religious belief systems in that environment. Olupona takes it a step further by describing it as the ‘ecology of religious ritual’ (259). According to him, it is through ritual practices that people are brought most intimately into contact with the natural world. The ecology of religious ritual thus explores how the ritual symbols and metaphors in a culture are intricately linked to nature and the environment. This article will therefore explore how Niger Delta religious motifs are intrinsically linked to the environment.
With regard to trauma theory, I build on the argument by Stef Craps (
2013) that trauma goes beyond the sudden disastrous occurrences that humans encounter in socially controlling capacities. Trauma also affects the entire architecture that is meant to support human existence. Craps’ conceptualisation enables me to accommodate the realities that plague the anthropocene whose trauma is latent if not invisible, especially to the average African, and specifically the Niger Delta inhabitant. Acknowledging the traumatised condition of the environment also allows for evaluating the lived experiences of the traumatised anthropocene victims and the implications for the religious lifeworld of the region. Hence, I analyse the religious and spiritual implications, specifically the eco-spiritual trauma caused by pollution in the Niger Delta, as represented in the poetry from the region.
This article focuses on two Niger Delta poets whose poems feature traumatogenic metaphors and religious motifs in engaging ecological challenges. I selected poems in which environmental degradation, desecration, and other ecological tropes are dominant. The poetry collections are Ojaide’s
Songs of Myself (
2015) and Kekeghe’s
Rumbling Sky (
2020). The selected poets are indigenes of the Niger Delta and are award-winners—Ojaide is a serial winner, while the latter (Kekeghe) is a first-time recipient of the Association of Nigerian Authors 2021 Poetry Prize. Besides literary pedigree, Ojaide is a primary experiencer of trauma, while Kekeghe falls in between the secondary and tertiary experiencers of the quotidian ecological crises of the region.
Ecological, religious, and cultural diversity of the Niger Delta
For a better understanding of the peculiarity of the Niger Delta, an explication of its complex formation is germane. Located in Southern Nigeria, the Niger Delta is an enormous ecologically varied area spanning over 70,000 square kilometres, which is about 27,000 square miles (
Okpalaeke & Aboh 2022). This accounts for about 7.5 per cent of Nigeria’s total landmass (
Animashaun & Emediegwu 2023). With an intricate ecosystem that supports a wide range of flora, fauna, and marine life, the region is arced by the Gulf of Guinea, the Atlantic Ocean, multiple tributaries, creeks, and mangrove swamp forests. The myriad of creeks, wetlands, and waterways makes it one of Africa’s most biodiverse areas (
Zabbey et al. 2021). The diverse terrestrial, freshwater, and marine habitats support a broad spectrum of plant species, including mangroves, oil palms, and medicinal plants (
Izah & Aigberua 2023;
Kombat 2023). In terms of aquatic life, its rivers and creeks are brimming with a broad range of fish species, and its swamps and rainforests are home to various species of birds and animals. Thus, its complex network of creeks, rainforests, and rivers sustains biodiversity and offers livelihoods for local populations through fishing and crop cultivation (
Abiodun 2023).
In terms of religious and cultural diversity, the Niger Delta is home to about 140 several ethnic groups (
Asuni 2009), including the Ijaws, Urhobos, Isokos, Itsekiris, Ogonis, and Kalabaris (
Folami 2022). In all these groups, ancestors are traditionally revered as sacred beings who have a profound influence on the lives of the people and communities (
Ikeke et al. 2022). Each ethnic group also has distinct sets of cultural and religious practices as the diversity of the region is moulded by a blend of indigenous religious belief systems, often mixed with Christianity and Islam, forming a complex tapestry of religious practices. The coexistence of Islamic rites with Christianity and indigenous beliefs adds to the region’s religious diversity and tolerance. In this religious formation, the natural environment is considered to be of great spiritual significance. Hence, rites and ritual ceremonies are performed to keep the ecosystem in symmetry.
The inception of environmental pollution in the Niger Delta dates as far back as 1956 when crude oil was discovered in commercial quantities in the region (
Okwuosa 2017). Since then, there have been several reported incidents of oil spills which have contaminated the water and land. Attempts to clean up the polluted areas have been frustrated by key stakeholders, including politicians and community leaders, who seem to be benefitting from the status quo (
Babatunde 2010). This has resulted in conflicts that spiral into armed struggle and militancy. Thus, the environmental emergency in the region has bred insecurity that has further worsened the lived experiences of the people (
Babatunde 2010).
Traumatogenic metaphors and religious motifs in Ojaide and Kekeghe’s poetry
The Niger Delta has a large and ever-increasing retinue of environmentally conscious poets who are at the forefront of the agitation against oil pollution in the area. Chief among them was the poet-scholar and environmental activist, Kenule Saro-Wiwa who in 1995 was executed by Nigeria’s military dictatorial regime of General Sani Abacha, based on trumped-up charges of treason (
Saale & David 2014). Through his eco-conscious life and literary oeuvre, Saro-Wiwa drew the attention of the world to the atrocities perpetrated against the people of his homeland in the deltas. Picking up the pace after Saro-Wiwa, poets such as Ojaide and Kekeghe have used their poetic oeuvres to X-ray and amplify the socio-economic and religious implications of pollution (
Erhijodo 2023;
Nwagbara 2010).
Showcasing his close affinity with the religious and cultural life of his people, Ojaide’s poetry often explores mythology, spiritism, and other religious aspects of the Niger Delta—his ancestral home (
Ojaruega 2015). The complexity that comes from the obvious overlapping religious motifs is one of the fortes of his poetic oeuvre. His engagement with religious nuances is often reflective and meditative. In the collection,
Songs of Myself: Quartet, religious motifs serve as a lens through which Ojaide explores ecological trauma.
In the poem, ‘Skies without Birds’ (31), Ojaide decries the impact of pollution on the Niger Delta ecosystem. He laments that the degradation has adversely affected the spiritual makeup of Nembe, a small town in the region. He describes Nembe as a ghost town as it has been stripped of its cultural ties. The poet persona states that nobody is excluded from the degradation of the community, even ‘the priests are deprived of animal sacrifices’. Moreover, the lack of a conducive habitat for fish and animals has brought hardship not only to the people but also to the gods. He notes that the scarcity is so bad that there are no animals left to sacrifice to the deities: hence, the ‘gods have fled the heaven for exile’.
This is a perilous situation for a religious community that is steeped in African tradition. Ojaide heightens the plight of the community by enmeshing the gods in the suffering of the people. Now not only are the people starving due to lack of food, but even the deities are deprived of their portion. The persona further adds that water is not left out of the pollution. The aquatic life has been so affected that even ‘Mami Wata has relocated’ from the rivers. Mami Wata refers to the goddess of the sea who serves as a protective power in the marine territory. She could not bear the toxicity; hence she has absconded and is now taking ‘refuge in [an] un-endowed area’ that is ‘poor but clean’. This paints a very pathetic picture as the gods which served as the symbols of the people’s divine heritage have left the once-rich community and are now domiciling in neighbouring communities that are poor but clean and devoid of pollution. The persona goes on to say that even the official bird that serves as the totem of the people is nowhere to be found. The tension is further heightened when the persona reveals that the only birds left are vultures ‘which itself confirms the deathful state’ of the community. Vulture as used here symbolises death. It means that death hangs in the air ready to devour the already sick and dying bodies of the people.
In another poem, ‘The Multitude of Fish’ (124–25), Ojaide begins with an Urhobo ethnic folkloric expression, alluding to the mythological tale of the relationship between the fish and its hosts—the creeks and streams. He remarks that the fish pay homage in gratitude to its hosts for their kindness and hospitality, but he is quick to add that such hospitality no longer exists as the ‘oil-soaked residence holds no such life’. The release of toxic waste into the freshwater swamps and rainforests has left deadly spills which have killed the fishes and other aquatic life. The poet persona notes that even the birds of the air now live in ‘fear of no nests to return to’ as the regular ‘blowouts’ and flares from the refineries burn the forests. Hence, their homes have been destroyed and they now roam about in the ‘smouldering winds’.
Their woes are further deepened because, due to the poisonous soot in the air, the birds have ‘lost their unassailable height’. Using metaphors of the elemental world, the persona notes that ‘the day now wears soot over its broad face/… the sun laments the loss of its bright dominion’. He adds that the brightness of the moon has been enveloped as ‘gas flares rob it of magnificence’; hence, it has been emasculated as its illuminative abilities have been robbed. Amidst these challenges, the persona discloses that the people are ‘dying from the loss of divine sustenance’. The deities are now helpless. The poet expresses a nostalgic reminiscence about times past when townsfolk could follow the ‘water queen’ (goddess) to her palace. The people were so much in touch with nature and the natural elements that they could interact with the gods. They could ‘walk on water currents’ when there was no boat. They were in such close connection with the supernatural that they could effortlessly replicate some of the metaphysical deeds of the deities. But things are no longer so, due to the activities of the oil prospecting merchants. Now the towns are filled with people praying in vain to invoke spiritual power. He teases the people of going to seek God in far-flung places, adding that they ‘made it to God so high to petition [their] needs’, whereas the molested foundling in the community through his naturally endowed gifting was able to effortlessly bring ‘his mother back to life’. The persona added that, today, oil lords now drown supplicants in loud gunfire.
In the poem, ‘I Pass the Same Road’, Ojaide alludes to a pioneer Nigerian poet, J.P. Clark who was one of the earliest poets to explore environmental tropes in the Niger Delta. He states that he follows the same trail as Clark and stands at the ‘crossroads of sacrifice to invoke Tamara to avenge’ the evil against the land. Tamara (the Izon name for God) is called to intervene in the oppression meted out against the people. By the invocation of the gods, one could feel the trauma, frustration, and hopelessness of the people who have run out of ideas and actionable steps to tackle the injustice meted out against them. Using metaphors from the riverine community, the persona groans that, while listening for the calming rhythmic sounds from the pristine community—‘lyrics of … arbor-line creeks of fish’, ‘orchestra of … birds and life of the mangrove’—he hears only the ‘hisses of fuming flares’ at every nook and cranny of the region. Frustrated again he lifts his eyes to the sky and implores the ‘invincible powers of the divine’. He beckons the ancestors for their help and blessings. The persona once again alludes to Ijaw mythology and seeks the help of Ozidi, the epic hero, to come to their rescue. He also asks for the bravery and fortitude of heroes like Ken Saro-Wiwa who was martyred for his advocacy for environmental justice.
The persona also calls on the water goddess and ‘her attendant mermaids that serenade her majesty’. He is quick to add that regrettably the soot of toxic pollution has tainted the beauty of the ‘water queen’. He reveals that the toxin of supertankers afflicted and tainted her beauty with ‘sickening slicks and sluices’. The persona’s woes are worsened by the realisation that the town is stripped of regattas and masquerades. These are two very significant religious rituals in the riverine communities. As part of their worship and festivals, there are boat regattas and masquerades to showcase the strong ancestral ties and divine links with the water spirits. Like a typical Niger Deltan, the persona invokes the curse of the gods on people who are spearheading the sabotage and plundering of the environment. He calls on the gods, Tamara, to ‘strike them with loathing for the harm they do without qualms’.
The other poet under review, Kekeghe, in his poem ‘When Can We Be Sane’ (44–6), alludes to the English poet, Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s poem, ‘The Rime of the Ancient Mariner’, and hints at the painful irony that, although surrounded by seas, deltas, tributaries, rivers, and swamps, the people of Niger Delta do not have a ‘healthy drop to drink’. He decries the lack of basic amenities and the depravity of his ancestral homeland. Ironically, those amenities that were lacking in the community are in superfluous supply in the operating facilities of the oil exploration companies. The poet persona remarks, ‘but here we are/ the light we lack/ beams the bare trees/ in the far forest’. It is even more disheartening that electricity and other necessities that reflect the deprivations of the community are now chasing the game and other animals from the hunters’ snares. So not only has the oppressor succeeded in plundering the land, but they have also caused a severe food crisis. The persona remarks that the natural blessings and endowment of ‘Orovwori’ (the praise name for God in Urhobo) are being threatened.
In another poem, ‘Tarrying Tears’ (49), Kekeghe paints a traumatic scenario condemning the false hope of prosperity that was sold to his kinsmen. The poet persona recalls that in pushing the propaganda they ‘desecrate our conscience/ and smoulder our huts’. The falsehood was mere pacifying words that now cost the community. He recalls with regret that the plunderers have ‘mowed down the tree’ of our ‘moral norms in the craves for deadly desires’. This sincere yet painful self-appraisal exposes the complacency of the people in the exploitative processes of the oppressors. Perhaps they were too frugal and wanted a change so badly that they failed to listen to the still small voice of reason. He notes that the regrets of their actions now stare at them with ‘ominous episodes’ of tales of misery and pain. The consequences of their mistakes will forever be remembered as they have been ‘woven into the narrative of our existence’. True to his religious nature, the persona will not leave without calling on the gods to curse the oppressors that brought the ‘leprous hands on our oil field.’ He goes on to declare: ‘may the red eyes of Ivwri consume them!/ The angry Egbesu/ destroy them!’ Helpless and having resigned to fate, the persona calls on his ancestral deities to curse the oppressors. This is a common practice in many cultures in Africa; when the people are overpowered by a stronger enemy and they know they have no comparative advantage, they resort to the divine, calling on their gods to intervene (
Ushe 2022). As used in the poem, ‘Ivwri’ is the god of war in Urhobo mythology, as well as ‘Egbesu’ in Ijaw culture. The use of the two is significant because the persona does not want to leave his oppressors to chance; he wants justice paid in full, so he employs the two deities to lay curses on his oppressors.
The poet also presents the helplessness of the deities in the affairs of the community. This is observable in the poem, ‘Darkening Clouds’ (50). In the opening stanza, the poet persona rethought that the townsfolks sent ‘supplication to their gods whose kingdom is planted in the belly of the cringing cloud’. This presupposes the danger that even the gods are in. Ironically, the people ran to their deity to seek help when even the deity is in greater danger of extinction due to the toxic pollution in the ‘cringing cloud’. The supplicants, among other things, ask the gods to fortify their ‘land against evil rule’. They pray that they have a taste of the crude oil, even if it is a drop. This invokes a strong feeling of compassion and empathy.
fortify our lands of evil rule
may we taste a drop of our dripping crude
may we have foods in our pots
may we survive another slaughter
and they all chorus, ‘iseeehhh!’ (50)
From the excerpt, the townsmen and women whose livelihood has been truncated by oil exploration are here praying to the deities as countless appeals to the authority have fallen on deaf ears. Several pleas have not yielded results, so they have taken it to their deity in supplication, hoping that through its metaphysical and benevolent powers, he could touch the heart of the oppressors. The people earnestly pray to have food in their pots. They also pray to ‘survive another slaughter’, and they all chorused, ‘iseeehhh!’ (amen). This is both pathetic and heart-breaking, praying to a helpless god who is also being ousted like the people. The proceeding lines heighten the emotion and sympathy towards the townsfolk as they ‘trail home with doubtful hearts heavy/ as the crane that defiled the land’. This predisposes that, somehow, they know that perhaps their prayers are not answered. Again, they gather but this time not in the enclosed shrine but under the almond tree which in the Urhobo culture symbolises a sort of refuge. Perhaps they thought their prayers had not been answered because they were made indoors; so this time they did it in the open, ‘seeking the spirit god in the face’. This shows the desperation and urgency with which they want their prayers answered. One can perceive the earnestness in the actions as their lives hang in the balance. Their action can also be likened to the biblical story of Elijah and the prophets of Baal in II Kings Chapter 18: 20–40, when Baal could not send fire to consume the sacrifice; and the prophets resorted to cutting themselves to stir up the deity. In the concluding stanza of the poem, it seems that the more they pray, the further the gods are from their entreaties. The gods were being distracted by the pollution as the ‘cloud is darkened/ by the doom of a flaring boom/ hiding the face of the gods’. It is, therefore, more disturbing that not only has ecological degradation affected the physical lives of the people, but also their spiritual well-being and ancestral ties.