Ann Arbor, Michigan (CNN) -- Even among the hundreds of applications, this one stood out. Most applicants to creative writing programs submit stories about the angst of their suburban childhoods. This writer's stories concerned the daily ordeals of a boy living with his family on the streets of Nairobi, Kenya, and the horrific plight of a Rwandan girl whose mother is Tutsi and father Hutu.



Not only did the applicant have what writers call "material," he was blessed with an uncanny ear for human speech and the poetry to describe his characters' very unpoetic lives.



I can still remember the young Kenyan boy watching his mother decant the glue she intends to sniff. The glue, the boy tells us, "glowed warm and yellow in the dull light," and when his mother had poured enough, "she cut the flow of the glue by tilting the tin up. The last stream of gum entering the bottle weakened and braided itself before tapering in midair like an icicle."



Still, this applicant gave us pause. The writer had so much to say, he seemed to be trying to channel a raging waterfall through the tiny funnels of two short stories. His use of punctuation was idiosyncratic, to say the least. And the applicant was a priest!



Would the other students be willing to share their stories, rife as these tend to be with profanity, drugs and sex, if a clergyman was in the room? And would this particular clergyman understand what all great religious writers know -- that true literature doesn't spring from one's certainties about the universe, but rather from one's questions?



That said, how could our students be inhibited by a classmate who didn't hesitate to describe a 12-year-old Kenyan prostitute being paid by rich white tourists to perform sexual acts with their monkey? As to the shapelessness of the applicant's prose and the eccentricity of his punctuation, anyone with this writer's gifts could be taught to structure his material and punctuate his characters' speech correctly.



If I still felt apprehensive about having a priest in my workshop, that anxiety vanished when Uwem Akpan walked in the room. Rather than wear his clerical garb and collar, Uwem showed up in a blue and maize University of Michigan sweatshirt. With his wide, gap-toothed smile, wall-shaking laugh, disarming candor and gleeful giggle, he exuded magnetic charm.



Nor was Uwem out of place for being the only Nigerian in his cohort. Despite what the judges of the Nobel Prize might say about American writers being too insular to compete with their European counterparts, this country's MFA programs provide one of the only spaces on the planet where writers of many races, religions, nationalities and sexual orientations can come together.



Writers find common ground not through the homelands they once inhabited but the thematic questions with which they grapple.



Early that first semester, I assigned a story by Philip Roth called "Defender of the Faith," in which a Jewish sergeant who has witnessed the horrors of the concentration camps must decide whether to grant special favors to the Jewish recruits in his command or enforce strict impartiality.



I didn't know whether Uwem would connect to Roth's quintessentially Jewish outlook. But the moment the discussion started, Uwem's hand shot up. "This is the story of my continent!" he declared. If Africans continued to put tribal allegiances above universal fairness, Uwem said, progress would remain unattainable.



This abhorrence of tribalism is what makes Uwem so open-minded. Like most people who are comfortable in their own skins, he is wonderfully able to inhabit the skins of others.



One semester, he audited a seminar on Holocaust literature. The professor had no idea who Uwem was, so she couldn't help but be surprised when he asked, "Can you tell me, please, how is it that people can do such terrible things to one another?"



If anyone else had asked that question, the professor might have thought he was simpleminded. But she could tell that this mysterious stranger was asking his question in the most profound way, from the depths of
What is Akpan blessed with? What was there concern about? Who has a poetic writing ability?
an uncanny ear for human speech and the poetry to describe his characters' very unpoetic lives. having a priest in my workshop, Uwem Akpan
question: What is Akpan blessed with?, answer: an uncanny ear for human speech and the poetry to describe his characters' very unpoetic lives. | question: What was there concern about?, answer: having a priest in my workshop, | question: Who has a poetic writing ability?, answer: Uwem Akpan