"I feel powerful with words", Jeff Iwu, novelist

Superstars are born, they are not made but the process to being one is getting made. Does this make sense to you?

Well, Jephta Iwuchukwu popularly known as Jeff Iwu is one of Nigeria's fast-rising authors whose imprint is in all the genres of writing: essays, poems, plays and novels. Call him a poet or a playwright or a novelist and you will never be wrong. From his early days at the Federal College of Education, Kontagora, where he earned an NCE to his university days at Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria and University of Nigeria, Nsukka, his journey has been a preparedness for the fame of now. Though still rìsing, he has published a couple of books like "Files of the Heart" (2018), "Verdict of the Gods" (2020), "Gone with the Winds" (2023 as part of an anthology), "Beneath the Garment" (2024) and others that have been internationally recognised and commercially successful. 

He has also won a couple of awards including Akachi Ezeigbo Prize for Literature (Drama) 2024, ANA Abuja Poet of the Week, 2024, Green Author Prize, (GAP 2017), etc.--- an experience he describes as humbling and encouraging. In this no-holds-barred interview with Yamilenu Bamgboye, Jeff Iwu lets us into his world. Enjoy!

Is your style different from the usual? What experiences shape your writing style?

Well, talking about my writing style, I don’t consciously try to be different. What I just try to be, always, is honest. And in trying to be honest, a certain style tends to emerge. I think storytelling should feel true, so true, even if it's fiction. So, I’m drawn to language that carries emotional weight, characters that battle with silence and memory, and moments that stay long even after the page is turned.

My style is shaped by many things— the things I see around me, the things I hear about, the things I read about, the things I experience or the things in my life.  I explore whatever idea that comes into me. Also, as a teacher, my writing is  shaped by teaching, by watching how young people engage with literature, by the rhythm of Nigerian English, and by my own questions about life. 

There’s a kind of emotional precision I try to bring to my work. I just want the sentence to feel, not just to say. I suppose I’ve learnt that what stays with us in writing isn’t cleverness, but honesty.

Do you consciously write to address issues or you just write and let the flow address whatever issues it chooses to address along the way?

I think it’s both, really. Sometimes I begin with a very clear awareness of the issue I want to explore — something that unsettles me or stays with me long enough that I feel compelled to write about it. Other times, I start simply with a character, or a scene, or even just a sentence that feels true, and the issues slowly emerge along the way.

I’m interested in human lives, how people feel, how they make choices, how they carry silence and memory. So, while I care about the world — about injustice, about identity, about power — I try not to write with an agenda. I think stories work best when they don’t try too hard to prove a point. The beauty is in the subtlety. Sometimes the story knows more than I do, and I try to follow it. I try to trust its flow. And in doing so, I often find that the issues I care about make their way in, naturally.

On this basis, how would you describe your ideal readers?

The thing is, I don’t have a fixed idea of who my readers should be. But I imagine people who are open-minded and willing to think deeply. People who enjoy stories that pay attention to emotion, memory, and language.

I hope for readers who are patient with the story, who are not in a hurry, and who are okay with things being a little uncertain sometimes. I also like to think my ideal readers are those who reflect  on the story they've read, and are willing to ask questions and feel something when they read. This is because I believe literature is a kind of conversation.

Of course, it is. It is entertaining too. Have you ever thought of stories as entertaining and refreshing?

Yes, absolutely. Stories can be many things at once.  Stories should be entertaining and refreshing. But beyond that, I think good stories should also make us feel something, make us pause, make us think. I believe in writing that entertains but also reaches for something deeper, something that asks questions about who we are and how we live.

What's that one thing or theme that appears most in all your writings?

Talking about recurring themes, I often return to love, family, culture, and the struggles within human relationships. I write about social issues like corruption, politics, leadership, and sacrifice. Grief appears often too — not just as sorrow, but as memory and silence and the things we carry. These are themes I care about, and they often shape the world of my characters. I suppose I write about life as I see it,  layered, flawed, but still full of meaning.

What do you struggle with the most in your writing process and how do you navigate?

One thing I struggle with is getting the emotions right, making everything look so real. This is because I want the writing to feel honest, not forced. That can take time. Sometimes I spend too long on a single paragraph while I’m trying to make it sound natural and true.

I've also discovered that I struggle with knowing when something is finished. I often revisit and revise again and again. How do I navigate that? To navigate that, I sometimes stop. I mean,  I give myself breaks and return to the work with fresh eyes. Teaching literature has also helped me see writing more clearly—how something reads, how it sounds, how it connects. It’s a slow process, but I’ve actually learnt to respect that.

You have been privileged to be published by one or two mainstream publishers. Can you describe how that happened and how rewarding it's been?

Well, it happened through a mix of persistence, timing, and simply putting the work out there. I’ve always believed in submitting to platforms that value literary work, even if I wasn’t sure what would come of it. Some of the publishers I’ve worked with found my work through submissions or literary competitions. Others came through recommendations or being visible within literary communities.

It’s been rewarding in a quiet, personal way. Seeing my work in print, whether a play or a novel, gives a sense of fulfilment. Not just because it’s published, but because it means the story has left my hands and entered someone else’s world. That’s a powerful thing! And while mainstream publishing gives your work a wider reach, what stays with me most is the feedback from readers, yes, when someone says a piece of writing stayed with them or helped them see something differently. That, to me, is the most meaningful part.

Interesting. When your work is challenged, how do you handle it?

I think the first question I quietly ask myself is: 'Is this challenge coming from a place of truth or misunderstanding?' Not all criticism is the same. Some are thoughtful and make you see your work more clearly—even its blind spots. Others may come from places that have little to do with the writing itself. But it can still sting, of course. As writers, we pour so much of ourselves into the work, so when it's questioned, it may feel personal. What I do is this: I try to sit with the discomfort, reflect on it, and separate my ego from the art. If there's something to learn, I try to learn it. But I’ve also learnt not to bend too quickly. Like I always say, writing needs honesty, and sometimes that honesty will unsettle people—and that’s okay. What matters is staying rooted in why I wrote the story in the first place, and what I want to achieve with it.

If you knew no one would read a piece you create, what would you write about? (I want you to take us into your realm of fantasy)

I actually find the question funny because for most writers, especially when starting out, it already feels like no one is reading. So, it’s not that far-fetched. If no one were watching, I’d write what truly interests me. Small human struggles. Unresolved emotions. Family drama and how people deal with loss or shame in private. I’d let the writing be more personal, more curious, and maybe even a little weirder. With no pressure to impress, I think the work would be more free, and probably more honest.

What kind of writer do you think you would be in 5 years?

Okay. In five years, I want to be a better and more focused writer. More disciplined too. I hope to be more sure of my voice and more willing to try new things. I want to write stories that feel real and honest, and still connect with people. I also hope to publish more books and grow in my craft. But no matter what, I want to keep the love for writing that started it all.

Do you include a bit of your own story in your stories? And why?

Yes, I do. Even when I try not to, some parts of my life still find their way in. I think it’s natural of every writer. We write from what we know, what we feel, and what we’ve seen. It doesn’t mean the whole story is about me, but the emotions, the questions, the small details. I borrow from my life. I do it because it helps the story feel true. Readers connect more when they sense that truth.

What is the biggest monetary reward you've ever got as a new kid on the block?

Haaah! I try not to measure writing success by money. I understand why the question matters. Well, the biggest reward for me has been the recognition that comes with the work being taken seriously, seeing my name on a book cover, and knowing someone out there is reading and connecting with my words. Sometimes, the financial reward is encouraging, but it’s the sense of growth and validation that means more. That’s what keeps me going.

You say you have a new book in the pipeline..."Cold Things", right? What is it about?

Yes, the title of my upcoming novel is Cold Things, and it’s being published by Joyfid Afrika Publishers. It’s a story about two cousins, Ekene and Obioma, whose lives are entangled by trauma, betrayal, and a justice system that is as broken as the world around them. The novel follows their separate paths—one shaped by violence at home and the other by a painful betrayal in the city—until they both find themselves in the same dark place: a prison that reflects everything wrong with society.

"Cold Things" explores how people carry guilt, how silence becomes a kind of punishment, and how sometimes, even survival feels cold. It’s raw, emotional, and unsettling in parts, but necessary. I won’t say too much, but if you’re drawn to stories that are unafraid to confront difficult truths, then "Cold Things" might speak to you.

How did you come up with this idea?

The idea for "Cold Things" didn’t come all at once. It built up over time from stories I heard, things I witnessed, and questions that kept bothering me about justice, silence,  the things we cover up in families and in society. I’ve always been interested in how people carry pain, and how trauma can shape a person without them fully realising it.

I was also thinking about how society often fails young people, how abuse, neglect, and corruption find a way to repeat themselves in different forms. One day, I just started writing from that place of discomfort and curiosity, and the voices of Ekene and Obioma began to take shape. Their stories were not easy to tell, but I felt they needed to be told. Yes, they needed to be told.

What would you say to a writer who is where you used to be right now?

I’d say: keep going. Just keep going.  It might feel slow or uncertain now, but every word you write is a step forward. Don’t wait to feel perfect or ready; just write. Read widely, stay curious, and stay true to your voice. Rejections will come, but they don’t define you. Growth takes time. Trust the process, and don’t stop believing that your stories matter. Keep writing until your pen becomes an enterprise of knowledge—something that not only expresses you, but teaches, questions, and adds meaning to the world.

If you weren't in academia, do you think you could live off writing?

Yes, I believe I could live off writing, but it would take discipline and planning. Writing is not just art; it’s also work. Without teaching, I’d still write, maybe explore other forms like essays or scripts, and stay active in the literary space. It’s possible, but it takes focus and consistency.

What distinguishes your poem from the millions of poems out there?

What distinguishes my poems is their emotional clarity and honesty. I try not to hide behind too much abstraction. I want the reader to feel something directly. I pay attention to rhythm, tone, and imagery, but more importantly, I want each poem to speak truth, however quiet or uncomfortable that truth may be. My poems often draw from personal and collective experiences—grief, love, culture, memory, and injustice—so they come from a place of lived reality. I think what makes them stand out is how they try to hold both simplicity and depth at once. I want the reader to enter the poem and see themselves in it, not just admire the language but connect with it.

Which writers do you admire the most and why?

There are many writers I admire, but a few stand out for how deeply they've influenced me. Chinua Achebe, for his clear and powerful storytelling that gave African literature a firm voice. Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, for the courage and clarity with which she explores important social issues. And Akachi Adimora-Ezeigbo, for the depth of her storytelling and her strong representation of women and culture. These writers remind me that literature can be both honest and impactful, and that stories matter.

When you meet a mediocre writer, do you show off?

Show off? No, I don’t. Writing isn’t a competition for me. Everyone is on their own journey, and we all start somewhere. I’d rather encourage than show off. I believe growth comes from patience, not pride. If I can offer help or support, I will because I know what it feels like to be unsure of your own voice.

What is your philosophy of life, poetically though?

I live to learn and speak the truth, to be kind, even when it's hard. I ask questions, I write to feel, and try to leave a little light behind.

Have you ever been heartbroken?

Yes, I have. I think most people have experienced it in one way or another. Heartbreak teaches you a lot about yourself, what you value, what you fear, and what you need to grow. It’s painful, but it can also help to deepen your understanding of human emotions, which helps a writer.

Can you live without a woman?

That’s a tough one! If you mean in a romantic sense, I think every human needs companionship. But it has to be meaningful and mutual. However, if you mean women in general, then no. Women are part of  my life, I have them around me: my mother, sisters, friends, colleagues, characters. You know, life would be incomplete without women. 

How do you present women in your stories?

I try to present women as full, layered human beings. They are not just side characters or symbols. They feel, fight, break, rise, love, and question. I write about women with honesty, complexity, and respect. This is because that's how they exist in real life. Women are complete human beings.