Once Upon a Time by Gabriel Okara

About the Author

Gabriel Okara, in full Gabriel Imomotimi Gbaingbain Okara, (born April 21, 1921, Bumodi, Nigeria), Nigerian poet and novelist whose verse had been translated into several languages by the early 1960s.

A largely self-educated man, Okara became a bookbinder after leaving school and soon began writing plays and features for radio. In 1953 his poem “The Call of the River Nun” won an award at the Nigerian Festival of Arts. Some of his poems were published in the influential periodical Black Orpheus, and by 1960 he was recognized as an accomplished literary craftsman.

Okara’s poetry is based on a series of contrasts in which symbols are neatly balanced against each other. The need to reconcile the extremes of experience (life and death are common themes) preoccupies his verse, and a typical poem has a circular movement from everyday reality to a moment of joy and back to reality again.

Okara incorporated African thought, religion, folklore, and imagery into both his verse and prose. His first novel, The Voice (1964), is a remarkable linguistic experiment in which Okara translated directly from the Ijo (Ijaw) language, imposing Ijo syntax onto English in order to give literal expression to African ideas and imagery. The novel creates a symbolic landscape in which the forces of traditional African culture and Western materialism contend. Its tragic hero, Okolo, is both an individual and a universal figure, and the ephemeral “it” that he is searching for could represent any number of transcendent moral values. Okara’s skilled portrayal of the inner tensions of his hero distinguished him from many other Nigerian novelists.

During much of the 1960s Okara worked in civil service. From 1972 to 1980 he was director of the Rivers State Publishing House in Port Harcourt. His later work includes a collection of poems, The Fisherman’s Invocation (1978), and two books for children, Little Snake and Little Frog (1981) and An Adventure to Juju Island (1992).

Once upon a time, son,

they used to laugh with their hearts

and laugh with their eyes:

but now they only laugh with their teeth,

while their ice-block-cold eyes

search behind my shadow.

There was a time indeed

they used to shake hands with their hearts:

but that’s gone, son.

Now they shake hands without hearts

while their left hands search

my empty pockets.

‘Feel at home!’ ‘Come again’:

they say, and when I come

again and feel

at home, once, twice,

there will be no thrice-

for then I find doors shut on me.

So I have learned many things, son.

I have learned to wear many faces

like dresses – homeface,

officeface, streetface, hostface,

cocktailface, with all their conforming smiles

like a fixed portrait smile.

And I have learned too

to laugh with only my teeth

and shake hands without my heart.

I have also learned to say,’Goodbye’,

when I mean ‘Good-riddance’:

to say ‘Glad to meet you’,

without being glad; and to say ‘It’s been

nice talking to you’, after being bored.

But believe me, son.

I want to be what I used to be

when I was like you. I want

to unlearn all these muting things.

Most of all, I want to relearn

how to laugh, for my laugh in the mirror

shows only my teeth like a snake’s bare fangs!

So show me, son,

how to laugh; show me how

I used to laugh and smile

once upon a time when I was like you.

Analysis

The heart is a symbol of genuine emotions, and the eyes the conveyor of the same (as sincere feelings are communicated through the eyes). Once upon a time people used to smile and shake hands with their hearts. Though they were rooted in primitivism, the emotions they embodied were genuine. Now, in the contemporary post-colonial context, the smile is purely plastic as it reveals only the teeth. The eyes are devoid of emotion and phrased as 'ice-block.' They appear without the slightest trace of warmth and humanity. They search behind the speakers shadows, as their intentions and motives are not explicit. They are now characterized by ulterior motives. There was a time when their very greeting (shaking of hands) was heart-felt. The ‘right hand’ here is the metaphor for the projected intention. The left hand for the ‘intended intention.’ The left hand gropes in the empty pockets of the speaker.

Niceties like “Feel at home!' and 'Come again' are reiterated just for the sake of formalities. However, when the speaker makes an appearance for the third time, there is certainly a marked change in their behavior. Leave alone the thought of a warm reception, the doors are closed on him. The speaker has now learned to conform to this sophisticated world driven by calculation and manipulation. He talks of many faces that are nothing but metaphors of masks and disguises designed to suit specific needs and situations.

The portrait smile is a symbolic act of something that is not felt, but done purely for the sake of it. Conforming to the so-called refined culture the poet has attuned himself with the rest and learnt to smile only with his teeth and greet (shake hands) without any trace of sincerity (heart).

'Goodbye' is an expression that originated from the blessing 'God be with ye.' It’s meaning has deteriorated to 'Good-riddance'. In the pseudo-modern fast-forward life people have lost the power to connect as human beings and communicate in naturalness. The poet tells his son that he wishes to transcend into the innocence of childhood characterized by purity where the soul is closer to God, as Wordsworth claimed in his Intimations Ode. He wants to unlearn all the muting things of sophistication. Particularly, he wants relearn to smile as now the poison is becoming more obvious with the fangs showing. The showing of the fangs emblematizes how the people were transforming from their seeming disguise to shameless display of iniquity. The symbol of the snake also points to the first sin of Man.

Towards the end of the poem, the speaker entreats with the son to teach him to emote. The poem, therefore exemplifies that 'Child is the Father of Man.'