Kukogho Iruesiri Samson’s debut ‘Devil’s Pawn’ is a ridiculously haunting tale stringed together against the backdrop and interplay of the physical and spiritual as well as its aftermaths of mystery and gothic realizations.
The novel, which won the GTBank’s Dusty Manuscript Prize in 2020, tells, first, a usual story and then, an unusual story that happens in a corrupt and violent society that looks very Nigerian. In Devil’s Pawn, Kukogho takes the reader through a thrilling experience as his characters’ individual pursuits for revenge, justice, survival, love, and power become intertwined.
Death and gore result as spiritual and physical forces are pitted against each other in a war that is borne from wrongful entitlement to women’s bodies.
‘Devil’s Pawn’ is set in a Nigerianesque society overridden with vices and filth through such representative characters as Sylvan, Emeka and Benson who are symbolic of a society suffering from problematic leadership and corruption in all its shades.
The novel begins heavily burdened with the exposition of issues of post-independence situations realized through the themes of political corruption, thuggery, rape, cultism and death. Like Achebe in ‘A Man of the People’ and Ayei Kwei Armah in ‘The Beautiful Ones Are Not Yet Born’, the author authentically handles the tortuosity of a society at risk and the extensive hemorrhage created by leaders who are driven by sheer greed and egoism. In the midst of enacting this theme, the story deftly and surprisingly transitions into a mystery narrative that offers notable structural and thematic depth in its presentation of the spiritual throughout the plot.
This spiritual influence is heavily linked to the progression of the plot and constitutes the pivotal point of revelatory significance.
Kukogho’s novel sought and succeeded in making a connection between the spiritual and the physical, and seems to view spiritual interference as a repercussion of human inhumanity in the physical realm. Centered on the activities of the Black Cats, a notorious cult group headed by Emeka Ezeani, Devil’s Pawn follows the story of the rape and murder of Ese, a fellow student of Busan City University who has connections with the marine and the water spirits.
This connection is held in place by her virginity which functions as the link to the spiritual. Thus, when she is brutally gang-raped and killed, she promises revenge. Ese’s refusal to remain dead before getting justice triggers rounds of mysterious deaths and signature dismemberment. Her promised revenge thrives on prophetic impulses which constitute a kind of narrative foreshadowing as the novel’s predetermined end is the death of all her rapists, and many others.
Ese is not the only victim in Devil’s Pawn. Simon Tyough, once a diffident university student violently bullied by a university cultist, but now a member of the Blacks Cats, is also a victim. Forced and assaulted into joining the Black Cats to ensure his safety, he becomes an unwilling but reticent participant in the crime against Ese. This silence means something for him and for the development of the narrative into a mystery tale. Because of his presence at the scene, he is complicit – not just physically but spiritually too – and must pay for this complicity without his will. His atonement is the single thread that strings all the other characters together.
In the novel, the appearance of the spiritual is synonymous with the faltering and abrupt disillusionment of the normal. Whether the spiritual can exist cordially with the normal is uncertain, however, within the world of this novel, the spiritual subjects the normal to a form of learned submission withdraws the agency of choice and exacts tragic and disillusioning effects on the physical. Ese’s vengeful spirit possesses Simon Tyough, thereby transforming him into a weapon of destruction imbued with superhuman abilities. Simon becomes Ese’s pawn, a lethal weapon that enables her to cross into the physical and exact her own version of justice.
The novel also negotiates concerns of female vulnerability and strength amidst patriarchy. Joan, sister of the revolutionary police man Kalu, is almost raped by members of the military. In this soft juxtaposition of Joan and Ese, Joan (a mere human) is helpless until Simon, under Ese’s influence rescues her. Ese, who was helpless in her human vulnerability is now capable of distinctive and terrifying power displays as a spirit. Much like Ihuoma in Elechi Amadi’s ‘The Concubine’ and Chielo (priestess of Agbala) in Chinua Achebe’s ‘Things Fall Apart’, Ese’s strength is contingent on her link to the spiritual.
This framework creates a tempo for discourse surrounding the feminine and the oracular or the feminine and the spiritual. In fairness to the author, it is important to note that his story also portrays strong mortal women in the character of Martha who, despite having a traditional homemaker role, changed the course of the story through her moment of individual bravery in the face of grave danger.
The near archetypal portrayal of the feminine as vulnerable, except when embodied with derivatives of the spiritual and mystical suggests a play in the line of traditional female binary portrayal. As a human, Ese is subject to the injustices of systematic patriarchy that thrives on wrongful entitlement to women’s bodies. As a spirit, she no longer exists within the human containment of male control but is a destructive force. Ese sets in place her own system of justice and enforces it unhindered. Yet, in the course of the narrative, readers often wonder whether this justice is at all fair as it leaves no room for remorse and refuses logic or reparation. As such, the question arises of whether justice itself can be unfair or whether unfairness can be just. Does the intrusion of the spiritual in the justice systems of the normal render its exertion unfair?
In the midst of Ese’s perpetration of revenge, a national crime is unraveled — the assassination of Jo Morgan, a popular presidential aspirant. Her spiritual influence here functions as a tool, no longer as a mere weapon. The mind games Ese plays takes away the psychological lucidness of Emeka who, together with Governor Sylvan, a former Capone of the Black Cats, are complicit in the crime. Emeka confesses this to Kalu – a revolutionary policeman who represents the force of good – in a bid to procure his safety from Sylvan, who has put forces in play to protect him by Emeka’s death, and Simon who is on Ese’s mission to exact justice on him. The interlocking of these two highly suspense-filled subplots realizes the climax of the novel that is characterized by mystery, fear, death, hostage-taking, and resolution.
Devil’s Pawn is a literary encounter with the devil on a chaotic stroll through the humane. The only catch is that there are many Devils, each with its own pawns. The consequences of their ill-fated interactions are recorded throughout the novel, and anyone who can handle the inevitable violence and gore will find excellently plotted entertainment in their unraveling. The novel is indeed a deserving winner of the GTBank Dusty Manuscript Prize; it stands out in the spotlight as it introduces the spiritual in post-independence storytelling at a time when the thematic thrusts of confessional writing and individualistic life are being highly produced and consumed.
I recommend Devil’s Pawn. In this 359-page thriller, there are lots of thrilling moments to be gleaned from the fast-paced storytelling, graphic descriptions, interlocking plots, and masterfully narrated fight sequences that will give you a feeling you’d normally get from a John Grisham or Tom Clancy book. Kukogho takes an extra step to integrate African religious beliefs and superstitions, making his novel, first and foremost, a captivating Nigerian narrative.
Review written by Ibe Obasiota Maryhilda Ben, an award-winning Nigerian writer.
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