Prologue

It was a great year for Nigerian writers. Home and abroad, the literary figures were being honoured for their creativity. The accolades from overseas were by far more rewarding, and there was great celebration each time the news reached the shores of the country.

The Man Booker Prize, the Orange Prize, the Caine Prize, the PEN Beyond Margins Award and several others like them, all had one thing in common — recognising the literary prowess of outstanding writers.

Celebrating outstanding books by writers of colour was a thing of joy.

The importance of encouraging racial and ethnic diversity within the literary and publishing communities could not be overemphasized.

Most of the organisations that spearheaded the campaign worked to increase the literature by, for, and about African, Arab, Asian, Caribbean, Latin, and Native Americans, and to establish access for these groups to the publishing industry. The goal was to ensure that those who were the custodians of language and literature became representatives of the American people.

The preponderance of Nigerian writers in the news was no surprise.

Nigeria is more populous than other African countries, with United Nations statistics showing that one out of every four Africans is a Nigerian.

But this certainly didn’t explain the reason behind the success story of Nigerian writers.

Nigeria is unarguably Africa’s most complex country. Nigerian writers had only tried to explain the country’s complexity in intimate, human terms. And they were doing that at the right time — the time of the IT revolution.

Talk of Civil Wars, dictatorships, poverty, superstition, Internet scam and all the other favourite stereotypes of Africa in the press, Nigeria had them; but the country also had what the press didn’t report, most of which was positive.

The average African was a natural storyteller; and the Nigerian seemed to possess that gene in abundance. Because most of social infrastructures were stunted, and most dreams were never realised, the only way he could turn his defeats into victories, his fears into strengths, his shame into pride, was in his stories.

Residing in the country or overseas, Nigerian writers had one thing in common — a longing to make a difference in their immediate environment and beyond. They had African blood flowing in their veins, and they were performing wonders with the pen.

Mofe Esiri was the rave of the moment.

Tall, dark, handsome, talented and assured, he had the world captured between his hands. Even though he was living outside the country, he was very comfortable with the tag, ‘Nigerian writer’.

The only child of his parents, Mofe grew up in an atmosphere devoid of strife. He was the apple of his mother’s eye, and she’d stop at nothing to give him the very best that life has to offer.

He was born in Los Angeles (LA), the largest city in the State of California and the second largest in the United States. Nicknamed “The City of Angels”, LA was the seat of Los Angeles County, the most populated and one of the most diverse counties in the United States. As the home base of Hollywood, it was known as the “Entertainment Capital of the World”, leading the world in the creation of motion pictures, television production and recorded music.

Mofe grew up in LA and attended the University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA), a national research university ranked among the top 10 schools in the United States with most faculty awards. He majored in theater arts and performed severally in the famous Billy Wilder Theatre at the university. He toured Europe and parts of Asia, the Middle East and Africa as part of his studies.

Even as a small child Mofe was interested in writing, composing his first poem at age seven and often crafting short plays for his friends to enact. At twelve he made his first attempt at publishing his work, sending the entry Biggest Nightmare to True Confessions (a publishing outfit) which was bought for a paltry fifty dollars. Undaunted, he sent another, No More Fairytales the following year, but it still didn’t make much progress. It was his third attempt, Around Midnight that brought him to limelight (he was barely fourteen!). It sold for ten thousand dollars. Three months later, Mofe received word that the paperback rights for the same novel had sold for two hundred thousand dollars!

In the years since then, he’d written over fifty novels and novellas. These novels ran the gamut of the suspense and romance genre, from historical fiction to adventure, from romantic suspense to time travel, and from vampire fiction to Christmas stories.

He wrote suspense novels before he ventured into romance. His suspense tales were more popular, and as of 2007 his books had sold more than 60 million copies in the United States alone.

Almost all of his suspense novels had been best-sellers, and as of 2007 all were still in print, including his first bestselling suspense novel Around Midnight, which was in its 25th printing. In 2003, the hardcover edition of Mofe's Reliable Sources was Number One on the New York Times Hardcover Bestseller list at the same time that the paperback version of his novel Don’t Say My Name reached Number One on the New York Times Paperback Bestseller list.

Only 27, his writing career was already being studded with international awards.

He had won the Horatio Alger Award and the Passionists' Ethics in Literature Award, as well as the Albert Einstein College of Medicine of Yeshiva University Spirit of Achievement Award and the National Arts Club's Gold Medal in Education. He had been awarded several honorary doctorates, including one from his alma mater, University of California, Los Angeles.

He had received numerous trade awards from magazines such as Romantic Times and Affaire de Coeur, and several Reviewers' Choice and People's Choice awards.

Mofe had won more awards than any writer of African origin.

He had won enough to sink a ship.

Great men have found no royal road to their triumph, except the old path of industry and hard work.

His romance novels had also made the bestseller list. His debut romance novel My Journey Into Manhood (which he wrote before he clocked fifteen) was a national bestseller. His most recent work My Beloved Is Mine was topping the New York Times Bestseller List for the fifth time running, unrivalled by his colleagues of African origin.

Several of his other novels had made the USA Today extended bestseller list. My Journey Into Manhood had also made the Top 100 Amazon.com All-time Bestselling Desires.

He was the first writer of African origin to be so honoured.

Mofe had been quoted in newspapers, profiled in magazines, and featured in talk shows. He had been published across the world in more than a dozen languages and had published over 50 titles, including anthologies and short stories.

He’d received mouthwatering offers from big-time producers in Hollywood to make movie versions of some of his bestselling novels.

A member of Mystery Writers of America (MWA), he was also a member of California Mystery Writers (CMW), where he’d served as Vice President and Retreat Chair and sat on the Board of Directors. He’d received the CMW’s Magic Crystal Award for outstanding service to the chapter. He’d been a featured speaker at numerous MWA chapters and at their national conference in addition to many organisations outside the industry.

He had everything working for him. Only the Nobel Prize eluded him; but age was on his side, and he knew he wasn’t beside the mark.

Mofe was currently being celebrated as Africa’s most successful young writer. Several companies and organisations across the continent had nominated him for awards in various categories.

He was a role model for his generation.

In spite of the immense wealth in his possession, Mofe was a humble man to the core; and that virtue endeared him to the hearts of many.

Rulers of dynasties and some of the most powerful people in the world spoke highly of him.

The Queen of England was widely quoted in popular newspapers, singing Mofe’s praise, “The less a man thinks or knows about his virtues, the better we like him.” And at a celebratory dinner organised in Mofe’s honour in Washington DC, the United States’ President had this to say: “You can tell the character of every man when you see how he receives praise.”

It was a success story everyone wanted to read.

An African dream come true.

Mofe’s homecoming was to be heralded by feasts from all corners of his motherland. The drums would beat, the ladies would dance, and national honours would roll in.

Heads of States and Presidents of various countries...