Peter Okonkwo on Kwame Come Home

Interview by Haliru Ali Musa

Peter Okonkwo is a Nigerian writer, poet, storyteller, creative director, and author of seven books, including his recent collection, Kwame Come Home, which was a finalist for the Aberdeen’s Bookause Prize. His recent collection debuted as part of the BSWN Art Showcase at Bristol Old Vic in October 2025. Today, he sits down with Nigerian critic Haliru Ali Musa for a conversation about his work. You can read Haliru’s review of Kwame Come Home in the Journal of African Literature via this link:

Haliru: It’s great to be able to speak with you about Kwame Come Home today, Peter, and congratulations on the nomination at Afriball and the MBCC Award in Birmingham, together with being a Bookause finalist. My first question to you would be: when did you realize the book’s central irony—that Vanessa is fighting witchcraft while Kwame is fighting smugglers?

Peter: Thank you so much. It never occurred to me initially that Vanessa was fighting witchcraft over the disappearance of her son. All I could remember as part of the central narration was that she was depressed, frustrated, grieving the loss of her son, and, in an attempt to do anything to have him back, consulted seers, prophets, and all. I think it’s more about the perception of the people she consulted than Vanessa’s own perception. The prophet she consulted told her to fight, pray, pay, offer monetary sacrifices, and all. The seers and spiritualists she consulted offered her the option to bathe in the river, perform sacrifices, appease the gods in Kwame’s favour, and all of those African things a desperate mother would do to have her missing son back. So, I think all of those experiences and the grievous feedback she received from the people she turned to made her believe that her son was wrestling with some unseen spiritual forces, thus leading to his disappearance. I myself did not have that in mind, which is why I find your question very interesting. It never occurred to me that Vanessa fighting witchcraft and Kwame fighting smugglers could be the book’s central irony. Great question.

Haliru: The broken Nokia appears in both parts. What does that phone symbolize for you?

Peter: Honestly, I never knew the Nokia appearing twice would be a thing, which is one of the beauties of literature, when someone spots certain things in your writing and gives significant interpretations to them. All I knew was that Vanessa was poor; she had a Nokia phone, which was the most affordable at the time. Then, she would keep it in her bra, remove it, check it, and stare at it for what seemed like eternity when she was told by the prophets that her son would arrive on a particular day. And on the other hand, the Nokia phone narration on Kwame’s end was an attempt for him to keep in touch with his mother. He had saved her phone number and that of Etean, his younger brother, on a small piece of paper he kept so well in the hope that he would contact them when he arrived in Europe. And that unawareness of where his family thought he would be haunted him throughout the journey. He began to blame himself for not saying a word before leaving, and as he thought he would call when he was settled or had arrived in Europe, he began to see the possibility of not even arriving at all, much less calling home. And I think at some point in the story, he lost his mother’s and brother’s numbers, making communication very difficult for him. So, I think the grief is collective, from Vanessa’s end and also from Kwame’s end.

Haliru: The Agadez poems feel tighter, more restrained than Part One. What changed in your approach?

Peter: Aside from fiction or narrative storytelling, Agadez is notorious as a human trafficking and smuggling site in West Africa, with several thousand humans smuggled every year, even after the Niger Republic enforced the 2015 anti-smuggling law. I had only wanted the migration route to be via Chad alone, but I felt the need to go back to Agadez in order to project or expose that bit of Agadez’s notoriety. Then, I talked about the conditions the characters faced there—the famine, the drought, the Sahara dust, the clay, the exploitation, even little things like accessing drinking water. The horrible and inhumane experiences migrants face there, and I am glad that I conveyed that to the very best of my satisfaction, as I wanted to, alongside the grief of motherhood that Vanessa endures at home and the lament of Kwame in transit, while also encapsulating all of the horrors of Agadez entwined with the already depressive story. That was why I titled it “In Agadez,” and I think the title did justice to the poem.

Haliru: Vanessa consults Yoruba deities and Christian prophets without conflict. What does that say about faith and poverty?

Peter: It says a lot, not just about faith and poverty, but about desperation. For faith, it says a lot about her belief in Christianity, which she thinks wouldn’t be an immediate help to her case. Then, she thought she would consult Yoruba deities for a quick response. And I think both were unable to answer her questions, added more pain to her misery, and subtly played a significant role in the depth of emotional anguish she experienced as a mother. Then, it says a lot about poverty because if Vanessa were a wealthy woman, she would have put out a public call, reported to government officials, or launched a missing-person report that the media could circulate. Plus, I think one of the reasons why she refused to do this was the fear of judgement, mockery, and humiliation, which she eventually faced. She didn’t want people to know that her son was missing, which I think I touched on lightly in some poems. She continuously lied about Kwame’s wellbeing whenever she was asked by relatives and neighbors. So, I think all of this plays a role in how the story is perceived and delivered, in terms of faith, poverty, and maternal desperation.

Haliru: Why end in the desert instead of reunion? What made you refuse consolation?

Peter: I will leave you and the would-be readers of Kwame Come Home to find that out. Every story I read out there has a happy ending. I am not so sure this one will. I can’t tell you why it has to end in the desert, but I know the story is not yet complete. That’s a question I would like to throw into the air as part of the upcoming series.

Haliru: This was commissioned for the BSWN program. How did that shape the work?

Peter: Quite significantly. I was honored enough to have been selected for the BSWN CultureBiz Connect Incubator Program, which was how the story was birthed as part of my showcase for the event. The incubator program itself was a significant success. I keep reminiscing about how impactful it was for me creatively. BSWN shaped some of the themes in the work as part of the type of works that could be showcased. I have had Vanessa’s story before in the past, and I thought I could build more on the migration story, especially one that we today call “The illegal migrants.”

About Peter Okonkwo

Peter Okonkwo is a Nigerian poet, literary critic, interviewer, publisher, and founder of P. English Literature. He is the author of seven poetry collections, including Ecstasy of the Dead (2020), Fate, In the Dungeon of Doom (2021), and Whose Fault, Kismet or Impediment (2021). His work is deeply rooted in themes of spirituality, African identity, philosophy, memory, and cultural consciousness. Through both his writing and literary engagements, he has continued to promote meaningful literary dialogue across global audiences. He is currently working on a novel titled Etean’s Destiny.

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