<body><div class="booster-block booster-read-block">
 <div class="twp-read-time">
 	<i class="booster-icon twp-clock"></i> <span>Read Time:</span>2 Minute, 41 Second </div>

 </div>
<h5 class="wp-block-heading"><em>Around the world, there is a drastic change in what we once called life; living has been interrupted by the basic need to survive in isolation. Our usual social interactions have been lost to this language called “touch”. Safety guidelines have become like nursery rhymes to our children – Don’t touch your face! Don’t touch surfaces with bare hands! Sneeze into your elbow! No hugging! No handshakes! Maintain Social Distancing! The list is endless, sometimes it looks like the virus came originally to fight against our language of “touch”, but for now we need to obey these rules to curb the spread of the novel Corona Virus.</em></h5>



<p>“Touch” is a
word, and in a larger sense of it – it is a language portraying relationship.
Various cultures speak this language, it mirrors the relationship between the
virus and human interactions. In Nigeria, amidst our diverse cultural beliefs
and traditions, every ethnic group understands the underlying power of touch;
from pouring libations to the gods, to exchange of greetings and other
realities captured in this performance piece by Donna Ogunnaike called “Touch”.</p>



<p>The performance
piece “Touch” although written at a time when Nigeria was battling the Ebola
Virus in August 2014, is still very relevant today. It takes a big dive into
the somewhat universal language that binds us together despite our different
societal settings and realities. It walks us through the path of social
distancing, no hugs, no handshakes, no gentle pat on the back that affirms us
as we go through this pandemic that sets new rules for our language of “Touch”.</p>



<figure class="wp-block-image"><img sizes="(max-width: 750px) 100vw, 750px" src="https://i2.wp.com/www.wrr.ng/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/Ebola-The-Jakarta-Post.jpg?fit=680%2C454&;ssl=1" alt="" class="wp-image-38209" loading="lazy"><figcaption><em>Ebola</em> | The Jakarta Post (REUTERS/Baz Ratner)</figcaption></figure>



<p>The poem, like her performance piece on infertility, <strong><em>Call Me By My Name</em></strong>, uses one topic to connect other aspects of the society; it exposes anomalies in everyday Nigerian society, from the government to communities to families and then to individuals. It brings into the limelight religious biases, systemic failures, terrorism, sectorial ineptitude and the constant drift from things we once held dear. </p>



<p>The government at that time, she says is to blame for the greater problem of the society, creating criminals of what should be scientists, dreaming of flying private jets with stolen money but the narratives are changing under the current administration. And she encourages us to work individually for collective progress.</p>



<p>Our feelings are
mostly expressed through touch, it expresses the relationship between the
events that have filled our daily living, even though, “it should not be this
way”. If Boko Haram does not affect you, then potholes and the terrible traffic
will affect you. If the traffic does not affect you, then the epileptic
electricity supply in Nigeria will sting you. </p>



<p>In the end, she prays for a world of peace, where humans are humane; we should love one another regardless of race because we all bleed red. That every individual will be proud of their country of origin and we will learn to appreciate each other. She advocates the protection of the climate so that we will live safer and longer in it. She prays the international structures put in place for world peace would be united in their work for world unity.</p>



<hr class="wp-block-separator is-style-dots">



<iframe width="680" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/kOWCK3cPFQ8" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen></iframe>



<hr class="wp-block-separator">



<p style="text-align:right"><strong><em>Written by Joseph Jegede and Glory Diamond</em></strong></p>
 
 <div class="booster-block booster-author-block">
 <div class="be-author-details layout-square align-left">
 <div class="be-author-wrapper">
 <div class="booster-row">
 <div class="booster-column booster-column-two booster-column-mobile">
 <div class="be-author-image">
 <img alt="" src="https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/43ed85dd903ea6e667aad02fd4afdc9e2011db392c0f39db4d8b619c51b6a498?s=400&;d=mm&;r=g" class="avatar avatar-400 photo avatar-img" height="400" width="400" loading="lazy"> </div>
 </div>
 <div class="booster-column booster-column-eight booster-column-mobile">
 <div class="author-details">
 <header class="twp-plugin-title twp-author-title">
 <h2>About Post Author</h2>
 </header>
 <h4 class="be-author-meta be-author-name">
 <a href="https://www.wrr.ng/author/glory-diamond/" class="booster-url-link">
 Glory Diamond </a>
 </h4>
 <div class="be-author-meta be-author-email">
 <a href="mailto:%20glorymary.gm@gmail.com" class="booster-url-link">
 <span class="booster-svg-icon booster-svg-envelope"><svg class="booster-svg" aria-hidden="true" role="img" focusable="false" viewbox="0 0 24 24" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="24" height="24"><path fill="currentColor" d="M0 3v18h24v-18h-24zm6.623 7.929l-4.623 5.712v-9.458l4.623 3.746zm-4.141-5.929h19.035l-9.517 7.713-9.518-7.713zm5.694 7.188l3.824 3.099 3.83-3.104 5.612 6.817h-18.779l5.513-6.812zm9.208-1.264l4.616-3.741v9.348l-4.616-5.607z"></path></svg></span>glorymary.gm@gmail.com </a>
 </div>
 </div>
 <div class="be-author-profiles">
 </div>
 </div>
 </div>
 </div>
 </div>
 </div>
 </body>
THE CHANGING NARRATIVE OF TOUCH: A REVIEW OF DONNA OGUNNAIKE’S SPOKEN WORD PIECE ‘TOUCH’
