Of a lobster dinner and other memories of Henry Chakava

I was pleasantly surprised to learn that my former managing director and long-time friend, Henry Chakava, is turning seventy this year. How time flies!

When he headhunted me from university teaching in 1976, he was a young, sharp publisher and an intellectual in his own right, who had risen rather fast into the position of managing director at Heinemann

Educational Books (HEB).

Having interacted with him so closely as an employee and friend over the years, I just didn’t realise that time was passing by so fast.

It is gratifying to also note that East African Educational Publishers is publishing a special book to celebrate his 70th birthday. That’s a fitting honour to Chakava. There are many official engagements that I

can remember him, as well as social interactions that are quite amusing. Well, let’s start there.

There is an incident that is memorable because it was truly out of character. The whole staff at HEB had been invited out for an end-of-year dinner at a posh restaurant.

Those of us who felt adventurous opted to pick our choice special from the fish tank where numerous specimens were swimming, unaware of the fate that awaited them.

Chakava beat us all by opting for a lobster that was served with paraphernalia that became a matter for great amusement.

Not only was he attired in a huge apron but the weapons with which he was provided for the job were varied and appeared lethal enough to have given a live lobster no chance of escaping its fate.

Half the people around the table had never heard of lobster. For the ones who had, it was just a word and this was their first real encounter with it.

BENUSED MD

The bemused MD went through the task with great aplomb, but the lobster won the encounter since the MD only wrestled with its appendages while most of it went into the doggie bag for home.

That is Chakava, a professional who favours teamwork in and out of office. During the period I worked with him, he never interfered with individual inputs and any one-on-one contact between any of us and him was strictly professional and non-intrusive.

As a publishing manager, I probably met Chakava more often than other members of staff.

I was in charge of a fast-expanding publishing programme that extended to all subject areas except Kiswahili, which was handled by the production manager, who was a native speaker of the language.

I managed all the publications written in English, which were the bulk of our work.

The managing director and I had a further link in that we were both graduates of English Literature, which happened to be one of our major areas of publishing.

Besides the very successful African Writers Series (AWS), to which we were required to make a regular editorial contribution, we had courses of English running through the school system throughout East Africa.

We developed main courses in English as well as study aids like the very widely used Study Guide Series on set texts for O-Level and A-Level. Chakava personally got involved in editorial evaluations and

production that greatly benefited from his experience and expertise.

I particularly recall the experience of attending an editorial meeting one Thursday at which we had discussed the gap that needed to be filled by a study guide on Wole Soyinka’s The Lion and the Jewel.

That evening I re-read the play and started drafting the study guide which I showed to Chakava on Friday afternoon. He immediately approved of its publication.

That weekend I got it typeset, formatted and I showed him the gulley proofs on Monday afternoon. At the editorial meeting the following Thursday, after exactly one week, I presented copies of the study

guide to fill the gap we had identified. That was the speed of work that Chakava appreciated and encouraged.

BOOK SERIES

The success of the AWS spurred our efforts in widening the scope of our involvement in creative writing at all levels. Chakava was instrumental in encouraging the development of other series of readers like

the Spear Books, which soon built up their own readership that grew over the years as the series expanded, with one of the most successful being John Kiriamiti’s My Life in Crime.

Henry Chakava had a holistic view of the publishing field and his knowledge of the various areas of study was no less than encyclopaedic. He encouraged us all to develop this open-mindedness and to read

widely so as to develop the competence to be able to handle projects on any subject area that came along.

From the foundation of English literature, I found myself enjoying handling publications in areas as far afield as mathematics, geography, social studies and sciences in general.

One of the projects I most enjoyed working on was a social studies series which extended from being one textbook for different classes to being an unusual publication that differed in subtle ways from region

to region throughout Kenya, making each textbook unique to the region while remaining essentially the same textbook.

This foresight, which Chakava encouraged, preceded what was later to develop into the electronic textbook of the future.

We were not a very large team of managers and editors but Chakava was able to harness our different strengths into a cohesive workforce whose output saw us rise to be one of the leading publishers in

Nairobi in just a few years.

We could compete with the best-known international brands and we overtook many others.

Chakava believed in training on the job where one’s competence was tested and proven as one delved into real productive activity. This was how I had come on board and that was how several very

competent aspiring publishers like Paul Njoroge, Leteipa ole Sunkuli and Simon Gikandi came to pass through my hands over the years.

Heinemann looked after its workers and the top executives in particular had nothing to complain about. Although we provided our own accommodation, the company paid us housing allowances.

We were also given company cars of our choice and I had the privilege of driving a model that no one else thought much of. No one liked a Citroen and I often wondered what Chakava thought of a car that

you got in, switched on and had to wait several moments before it heaved itself up and gave you the nod to proceed.

He favoured a relatively modest BMW, those being the days before 4x4s became the rage.

He resided in a largish house in Lavington that was a haven for many of us over the years as we often gathered there, especially on weekends, to let off steam.

Yet years later after I had moved on, I still returned to Nairobi on occasional editorial engagements that Chakava got sent to me to keep ties alive. I one time stopped by on my way to South Africa. I was rewarded another time with a dinner comprising of a rare dish of quails which I had not tasted since my childhood.

I worked for HEB until about 1985, but in reality I have never left what is now the East African Educational Publishers for which I write, review and edit books on a regular basis.

HEB, as we were then, or EAEP as it is today, means Henry Chakava. He led the team from the front and was always comradely, professional and never bossy. Because of this, we strove not only to achieve

the possible but endeavoured to reach limits of the limitless.

Over the years as various professionals came and went, the one constant factor remains Chakava.

Happy birthday, Henry!

Laban Erapu is currently Professor of Literature at Bishop Stuart University, Mbarara-Uganda