March 06, (THEWILL) – If Fela Anikulapo Kuti had won the 1983 election as the presidential candidate of Movement of the People (MOP), Lari Williams would have been the vice president because he was Fela’s running mate. But of course MOP was never registered by the Federal Electoral Commission (FEDECO) let alone contest.
In that sense, you could say Mr. Williams’ career as a politician never really took firm root, like Fela himself, two political minnows who, in the estimation of Nigerians, should concentrate on their artistic duties rather than seeking public office. Both of them did and excelled, though in their own different ways.
As an actor Williams had a long stretch, a long reign on the stage and on screen covering more than four decades of active performance. Whether in Village Headmaster, Ripples or Mirror in The Sun, Williams was always a delight to watch – admired for the middle-class characters he played which, in real life, he was.
Born in 1940 to a father who was a working class father in Lagos, Williams attended CMS Grammar School and then proceeded to London School of Journalism where he read journalism. Drawn irresistibly to acting, he went to Morley College, Mountview Theatre School in London and then University of Iowa in the U.S.
In 1977 when he was 37, something epochal took place in his own country Nigeria. The second Black and Arts festival FESTAC held in Lagos that year. There was no way a young and idealistic dramatist like Williams would be left out of all that continental fun including blacks in the diaspora. He returned to Nigeria and has remained ever since, delighting audiences and viewers with his suave performance in soaps, sitcoms and on stage.
The peak of his career as a stage performer was not within an enclosed theatre hall or auditorium. It was in the open, right on top of Zuma Rock in Abuja – 1, 200 feet high – where, alone, he performed “The bird that sings in the rain,” a poem by soldier-poet, Mamman Jiya Vatsa. No Nigerian actor has equaled that feat till date.
It is possible, just possible that devotees of sitcoms like Village Headmaster, soaps like Ripples or Mirror in the Sun would have had to watch actors like Williams mesmerize them up to now. But times have changed. First, Nollywood came and robbed television of their previously loyal viewers. Next was the Internet and then the death blow was delivered by Cable TV. Soaps and sitcoms have since been aired out of Nigerian television stations, making professionals like Williams who acted in them look elsewhere.
There were a few roles in Nollywod flicks but not quite as exciting as the era of soaps and sitcoms. As creative as ever, Williams turned to teaching, first at the National Theatre, Iganmu where he had drama classes. University of Calabar was next where he had a two-year contract to mentor drama students, particularly on acting techniques and speech. By the way, Williams is from Ikom in Cross River state from where his first son, Femi, announced the passing of the veteran actor.
In an interview with NANS shortly after Williams Snr died, Femi insisted his father was a “perfectionist” who “impacted the lives of many young artistes through training and mentorship.”
Continuing, Femi said, “he was quite a determined perfectionist who never compromised the profession; he lived and died loving the theatre instead of financial gains…Even when he was given a short notice to go and perform on stage, he would gather his troupe, train the dancers and make them perform at their best.”
The professional body Actors Guild of Nigeria (AGN) which the deceased actor belonged also spoke of his professionalism, calling Williams’s death “a colossal loss to Africa’s creative industry.”
“Chief Lari Williams was a thoroughbred thespian, poet, playwright, and a teacher,” Ejezie Emeka Rollas president of the AGN said. “He stood apart from whatever vantage position. We knew him as someone special.”
Film critic, journalist, scholar and Deputy Director National Troupe, Shaibu Hussein considers Williams someone special. Indeed, Hussein communicated with the veteran actor days before he died. In a Facebook post early last week, Hussein recalled to a journalist that “I had been in touch with Uncle Lari Williams from his base in Ikom. The last time we spoke on a contract he wanted me to make was just on February 24. I promised to get positive feedback from him this Monday, February 28 and today, I heard the sad news of his passing!! Kai!”
“My colleagues Adebayo and Rafiu Aderemi would recall that Uncle Lari called me thrice as I was driving and I parked, returned the call and we spoke for about 30 minutes. The Uncle Lari I spoke to never sounded as though he would transit. We talked about everything around the arts and moviedom and he asked when I was going to update the piece I did on him in my book on the ‘Pioneers of Nollywood.”
“He wanted me to reflect on the fact that his national award has been upgraded from Member of the Order of Nigeria (MON) to Officer of the Order of Nigeria (OON). He was awarded a MON by the time the book was published.”
Though not as widely known as the Achebes and Clarks and Soyinkas, Williams also wrote books and poems. But it was his acting skills that endeared thousands of adulatory fans across Nigeria to him, including the Federal Government of Nigeria who made him a Member of the Federal Republic of Nigeria (MFR) and since updated to Order of the Niger (OON) in 2008.
Three years before, the actor went public with a plea for kind-hearted individuals to come to his aid. What was his reason? He was, he said at the time, going progressively blind. Of the award itself, there was no cash attached. “I was only conferred with a Member of the Federal Republic (MFR) honours by the government without any cash backing.”
At about the same time he had health challenges, Wiliams also could not meet up with his rent, for which his landlord shooed him out. At that point news made the rounds that Lagos state or the Federal Government had built a two-bedroom apartment for him, which was not true anyway, as the man himself later disclosed. “I have heard people say that the Lagos state or the federal government had given me a two-bedroom flat somewhere, it is all lies.”
In his reckoning, government – state or federal – don’t much care for the arts let alone the welfare of actors like him. “We served this country and helped to build the entertainment sector that a lot of people are benefiting from today,” Williams rued then, “but there is nothing for people like me to show for it.”
“Most of us are left unsung because of the kind of structure that is being run; we should be having benefits like the civil servants. In other climes, artists live on government subventions and are structured in such a way that they earn from their creative works.”
His twilight years, say those who know, was filled with sadness, sadness on account of the very neglect he complained of by governments who should do otherwise for its artistes. Of course, his relocation from Lagos to Ikom shows how difficult life had become for someone who lived a greater part of his life in the metropolis.
It is true that, no thanks to FEDECO, Williams never occupied any political office in Nigeria. Even so, he was the president, the very first, of AGN when it came into existence years ago. That is something, at least.
About the Author
Michael Jimoh is a Nigerian journalist with many years experience in print media. He is currently a Special Correspondent with THEWILL.
