As I receive the sad news of the passing of the effervescent Mr. Agbo Areo, author of Director!, Hopeful Lovers and Mother’s Choice, I reprise the final words we exchanged in this world a few weeks ago:
‘Agbo Areo had ‘disappeared’ for decades… He was an important figure in African literature for his role in the creation of the Macmillan Pacesetter series. Not only had he designed our most influential Young Adult pan-continental series, but he had also written the very first book that templated the series. He was therefore an author and editor who had been active in the Nigerian publishing hotbed of Lagos/Ibadan…’
WHEN a boxing champion takes the gold, his manager is standing ringside to share in the accolades and fame. Editors, even of the most iconic books, are a more invisible tribe. Yet, some denizens of literature bestride both the editorial and the authorial. Agbo Areo was such a one, an editor and a writer with a significant influence on a generation of readers. And writers.
Agbo Areo had ‘disappeared’ for decades, but back in March 2023, I felt a strong desire to track him down. He was an important figure in African literature for his role in the creation of the Macmillan Pacesetter series. Not only had he designed our most influential Young Adult pan-continental series, but he had also written the very first book that templated the series. He was therefore an author and editor who had been active in the Nigerian publishing hotbed of Lagos/Ibadan. Yet, for many years I had heard no word from him.
I started my search for Agbo Areo by asking people who should know: my writer, editor, and publisher friends across Lagos and Ibadan. I got no joy. Mr. Areo had apparently disappeared into a very private life, post-retirement. I talked to my cousin, Irene Ubah, who had originally introduced me to him. But she had lost touch with him. Tade Ipadeola, my touchstone poet for Ibadan affairs, had not seen him either. Okey Ndibe’s trusty Ibadan tentacles came back negative.
I tried online, of course, and the only reference to Agbo Areo took me to what felt like the longest street in Ibadan. As I drove down this potholed habitat of bookmakers and sellers of printing materials, I got many confident directions from people who should have frankly confessed that they had no clue who I was talking about. As I drove deeper into this bowel of Ibadan I happened upon medieval scenes meet for Yoruba Nollywood, but as for the old man I sought, I found not a trace. At the back of my mind was the dread that nature had happened to Mr. Areo. He had to be in his 80s, and as a series that flowered in the ’70s and ’80s, many of my fellow Pacesetter writers had already joined the guild of literary ancestors.
I got lucky eventually, tracking down the man to his bucolic home in a remote suburb of Ibadan. He was far from retired, for I caught him in the home office which he had built next to his home of two decades. He received me graciously, waving away my apologies for arriving without notice, and we launched into seamless conversation. He was quick with a smile and generous with his time, as soft-spoken and passionate as I remembered. He was still active in publishing, in his invisible role of editor, still nurturing and publishing young adult writers, even in his 83rd year. We exchanged books and discussed burning issues in our craft and vocation. There was of course a personal reason for looking him up: I had sent my first manuscript through him to Macmillan, for what was to be my first novel, The Extortionist.
I remember suggesting that we shut down the noisy generator and record some of our conversation – for the culture – as I said at the time. For posterity, as it turned out. It was a habit I have fallen into, this recording of random conversations with living libraries. He thought it was a good idea as well, especially with his writer and editor neighbour, Kafayat Gold Lawal, on hand to record the conversation. We retired from his office to the balcony of his home, overlooking his garden – which explains the birdsong that competes with Ibadan’s traffic ensemble to soundtrack our video.
