“The Past is Always Better Than the Present”

Rethinking Eastern African Literary and Intellectual Landscapes is a new book, a collaborative effort between East African academics, writers and thinkers. The book launched at the Goethe Institut in Nairobi on the 3rd of July, 2012.

While introducing the book, Dr. Tom Odhiambo reaffirmed the urgency and need of such endeavours by East African thinkers. He lamented the baleful disregard of arts and humanities by university administrations in Kenya where it frequently occurs that academics are unable to secure funding for their projects ‘because their work is not scientific enough’.

Dr. James Ogude explained how the book was conceptualized; it is an attempt at finding ways to re-energising intellectual scholarships within East Africa.

“We may work with the world, but it is necessary to have our own local interventions,” Ogude said. “A society that relies on foreign voices to tell its own stories is a dying society.”

Ogude recounted the intellectual climate of the 60s. “We have never looked back at that era and captured the intellectual traditions,” he said and illustrated how Ngugi and others led the intellectual revolution. “This book attempts to reassert East Africa as an important site of culture and intellectualism.”

Ogude shared details of his recent meeting with Ngugi. “Ngugi and I reminisced on those days gone. See, back then, we never quite realized the contribution of scholars in the region. And then Ngugi asked me where in Nairobi the book was to launch. He laughed when I told him, said we are still relying on the patronage of former colonial masters. What happened to our own homegrown spaces? Why do we never take the initiative?”

Ogude explained how received theories (from the west) inflected the manner of perception of our own experiences by reversing the hierarchy of our intellectual values. This is what Ogude terms as ‘The African Urgency’, one that needs to be addressed.

“The humanities are the crucible of society. We can produce technocrats, but society needs its thinkers.”

Dr. Godwin Murunga criticised the learning of African Studies as a distinct, monolithic unit. “I do not understand why, in this day and age, a university in Africa would teach African Studies. Have we, all this time, been studying aliens?” he asked. “Why must we depart from history, from literature, from art, and look for Africa in a place called ‘Africa Studies’?”

Murunga spoke of the global politics of education and the bearing of one’s academic affiliations to one’s global visibility (a severe reality that makes African scholars virtually invisible). He also spoke of the pitiful internal dynamics of our own institutions, the astonishing ways in which our universities self-annihilate.

Dr. George Ogola discussed the politics of the exiled African intellectual. He explained that diasporic intellectuals are often dismissed as inauthentic precisely because of their absence, a criticism that ignores the moral and material realities. Intellectual traditions do not follow linear trajectories, and many intellectuals and thinkers are so because of the anxieties of exile.

Ogola explained that the book is important due to its decolonisation of modernities, and due to the fact that the book not only focuses on Kenya or Africa but transcends it.

“This book is both historical and contemporary,” he said. “It redresses concerns of thematic insularities. It questions, for example, not just the patriarchy of European imperialism, but of African nationalism. What is the place of the woman as producer of intelligent output? Whose intelligent traditions are we engaging with, and where is the place of the woman in this?”

After a brief musical interlude during which the gripping Makadem performed, the audience was allowed to field questions. One particularly resonating one came from someone that spoke heatedly of what he termed as ‘positive primitivism’.

“The past is always better than the present,” he said, levelling his criticism against the intellectuals who looked back at the 60s and 70s through rose-tinted spectacles. “The revolution of the 70s meant to bring African voices at the centre of departments, and to put English aside. What then would have been the logical conclusion?”

He explained that in his opinion, African voices are best heard in African languages. In Kenya, there is a larger body of work in Swahili today than there was in English in all of the 60s, 70s and 80s combined.

“Why then do we say that literature has died? Back then, we were unhappy about expressing Kenyan voices in foreign languages. What we hear now is a dominant story, one expressed in English. Does it mean that if it a voice does not speak in English then it does not exist?”

In answer to this, Ogude expressed satisfaction at the growing body of work in Swahili and other local languages. He warned, however, that it will come to naught should this work be ignored by intellectuals.

“We need to engage with these works,” he said. He went on to address the criticism against such ‘positive primitivism’ with regards to the nostalgia of the 60s and 70s:

“Makerere, the University of Nairobi were functional institutions back then. We need not sweep realities under carpets. We must face ourselves, demand answers from ourselves. It is inevitable that intellectualism will plummet if student bodies increase exponentially without concomitant increase in academic resources. What we are seeing right now is a phenomenon where our students do not go through university, but university goes through our students!”

—Claudette Oduor

Governor Rotimi Amaechi Celebrates with Children

In what has become a Children’s Day tradition, the Governor of Rivers State Chibiuke Rotimi Amaechi, read to children at the State School Mgbuitanwo, in Emouha Local Government Area. The Governor, whose birthday falls on the same day as Children’s Day, read to the children from Gabriel Okara’s book Little Snake and Little Frog which narrates the friendship between the little Snake and the Little Frog and how this is shattered by their parents’ revelations of its deceptive nature.

After the reading, the children treated the Governor to a wonderful reception in their assembly hall. There they sang and danced and gave him a birthday present. Governor Amaechi who appeared to thoroughly enjoy himself, thanked the children, the Rainbow book club and the Ministry of Education for the enriching experience.

Mrs Koko Kalango, founder of the Rainbow Book Club, the organisers of the ‘Rivers State Reads’ campaign and, the anchor of the session asked the children what they thought of the story. The children, many not more than 10 years, were quick with their responses. Impressed by their confidence and boldness, the governor too shared his understanding of the story with them. He said it was a story about conflict and survival which was not necessarily a bad thing. He pointed out, for instance, that the snake needs to eat to survive just like the frog wouldn’t play with food if it were hungry. Mrs Kalango, who agreed with the Governor went on to give another interpretation saying that fear, as seen in the mother frog, instigates conflict while faith and love promote peace.

In a brief interactive session that followed the reading, the children once again amazed the governor and dignitaries present by their insightful questions; ‘Did you ever dream of being a governor?’, ‘Do you like being a governor?’ ‘Why did you decide to celebrate your birthday with us?’ In his characteristic disarming way, Amaechi told the children that he decided to become Governor in 2002 because he felt he had something to contribute to the state. He added that though it was good to be a governor, there were also challenges. He narrated to the children how he rose from a humble background to become governor and challenged the children to aspire to greater heights especially as his administration has renovated schools, created a conducive environment for them to learn in.

The event ended with the donation of 300 bags of books to the children by the governor. The reading was also attended by the Hon. Commissioner Education Dame Alice Lawrence.

Report by Daniella Menezor, Member, Rainbow Book Club.

Port Harcourt: the Future of Books

The Nigerian Presidency, UNESCO, the Rivers State government and literary enthusiasts, have thrown their weight behind the Rainbow Book Club bid for Port Harcourt to be the UNESCO World Book Capital City in 2014. Koko Kalango, chairperson of the Port Harcourt World Book Capital City Preparation Committee and Founder of the Rainbow Book Club formally launched the city’s candidature in a press conference held at the Secretariat of the Ministry of Education, Port Harcourt on Friday 15 June 2012. Mrs. Kalango posited that winning the contest portends a ‘…window to a world of opportunities’, which is incidentally the theme of the bid. Port Harcourt is vying alongside 10 other countries.

In her welcome note, the honorable Commissioner for Education, Dame Lawrence-Nemi, remarked that Governor Amaechi, in his effort to promote a reading culture in the state has made education free and compulsory, she also spoke of the partnership between the state and the Rainbow Book Club to organize the annual Garden City Literary Festival. 

Renowned author, poet and 1979 winner of the Commonwealth Prize for Poetry, Pa. Gabriel Okara, in an emotional appeal called on the UNESCO Director and Country Representative, to insist that Port Harcourt wins the bid as this will result in the harvest of more writers.

UNESCO Director and Country Representative, Dr. Joseph Ngu also commended the exercise. “The commitment on the part of the founder to bring back the book to our own door steps through such laudable projects as this bid is very encouraging” he said. He reiterated that the essence of the contest is the overall benefit of building a lively book culture. 

The Bring Back the Book Campaign was represented by Ms. Molara Wood,  who read a letter of support from, Mr Oronto Douglas, Assistant to the President on Strategy, in which he pointed out ‘...the many laudable activities of the Rainbow Book Club key in very strongly  into the citizen driven nature...’ of the President’s Bring Back the Book campaign.

Secretary General of PEN Nigeria, Oluwafiropo Ewenla captured the general mood of those present when in response to a question asked by a journalist, he asked ‘Why not Port Harcourt? Books have a present, past and future, this (Port Harcourt) is the future of books!’

Binyavanga Wainaina's Memoir Launches in Nairobi

A year after its release in the US and in the UK, Binyavanga Wainaina’s critically acclaimed memoir One Day I Will Write About This Place finally came home to Kenya, with a launch at Nairobi’s Railway Museum.

“I hope that the beautiful cover of the Kenya version of the book will make up for the delay in launching it here at home,” Binyavanga said, and explained the grim situations that conspired against the original plan to launch the book in Kenya before its international debut. It was a combination of things—the Kenya shilling weakened against the US dollar, and then Binyavanga had a stroke, and then he lost his father just before the book came out.

The Nairobi launch was a cosy, intimate affair. Bibliophiles and literature enthusiasts huddled together on tightly bound bundles of hay. Heads and feet bobbed to Just A Band’s DJ set of house, funk, disco, and all the pleasant noises in between. And in the background, rain pounded the rustic remains of locomotives that once, between the forties and seventies, plied East Africa.

The Nairobi launch of the book coincided not only with Kenya’s Independence Day celebrations but also with Queen Elizabeth's Diamond Jubilee celebrations (coincidentally, it was while at Aberdare National Park in Kenya in 1952 that the Queen learnt of her father's death and her own forthcoming coronation).

That the book is written in English is quite plainly attributable to Kenya’s colonial heritage. Perhaps, then, there is something to be said of the Railway Museum as a venue for the book launch, with its quaint locomotives both as symbols and as residues of colonialism. Or, perhaps, that is excessive reading between the lines?

Following several brief introductory speeches, Kwani?’s Managing Editor and 2012 Caine Prize shortlisted writer Billy Kahora told anecdotes from years of working with Binyavanga at Kwani?, a literary magazine that Binyavanga founded upon his winning of the Caine Prize in 2002.

Copyright Mwangi Kirubi

Binyavanga held a short reading of his book, introducing the audience to his eclectic, breathing, twisting words, to the vibrancy and innocence and swirling colours of his childhood. It is a childhood that most of his Kenyan audience was familiar with, judging from the ease at which grins and chuckles broke. He read:

Nakuru is a high-altitude town at the bottom of the Rift Valley. This geography-class contradiction confuses me. Ciru and I like to call Kenya’s tallest building Kenyatta Cornflakes Center.

Brown is near. Green far. Blue farthest. The hills in the distance are dark. Maasailand.

From here you can see Kenya’s main highway- the Mombasa-Kisumu Road, where there are often long, long lines of army tanks and trucks going to the Lanet barracks. Uganda is still falling. Idi Amin ran away. They killed all the prisoners and left blood and guts in the prison. Some bodies had no heads. Tanzania and Museveni attacked Amin. Mum is on the phone a lot with uncles and aunties. Most of them are now all over the world.

President Moi says Kenya is an Island of Peace. President Moi says Somali Shifta bandits are trying to destabilize Kenya. Somali Shiftas don’t tuck in their shirts. The king of Rwanda is nearly seven feet tall and is always standing outside Nairobi Cinema, where women come and kneel in front of him. He is not allowed into Rwanda. He is a refugee. He used to flirt with Mum before she met and fell in love with Baba.

After the reading, Binyavanga had a conversation with Granta’s Deputy Editor, Ellah Allfrey. The chat was frank, on wide-ranging topics such as childhood masturbation, death in the family, generational (and general) differences between East, West and South African writers, the manifestations of colonialism in literature, the machinations of the global publishing industry, the delicate balancing act between the need for candour and the risk of naked vulnerability in writing, what makes Binyavanga’s book a memoir and not an autobiography, and whether or not it was written as Africa’s answer to books such as No Mercy: A Journey Into the Heart of the Congo, Dark Star Safari and The Zanzibar Chest.

Copyright Mwangi Kirubi

Binyavanga recounted some of the bizarre and less bizarre events that brought him continental and international acclaim, the ensuing struggle to live up to and even scale his own past successes, and his plans for the future. He also revealed that a West African version of One Day I Will Write About This Place is forthcoming from Farafina Books.

Eric Wainaina, perhaps the most recognisable, most socially conscious face in Kenyan music performed Joka, a song penned by writer Parselelo Kantai. And then, as though in self-fulfilling prophecy of the title of the song, long, winding queues snaked their way to the book-signing table.

—Claudette Oduor

Conversation with Akin Adesokan at The Life House

For lovers of vintage literary discussions, Monday 28 May 2012 was D-day and 6:00 pm was H-hour. At about 5: 45 pm, people began trickling into the swanky atmosphere of The Life House, which was the venue of the CORA-organised “A Conversation with Prof. Akin Adesokan”.

It is germane at this point to give a brief biological sketch of the professor. Akin Adesokan worked for many years as a journalist with The Guardian (Nigeria), and then joined the formerly clandestine news magazine Tempo, for which he also wrote a weekly fiction column. His first novel, Roots in the Sky, won the Association of Nigerian Authors’ prize for fiction in manuscript form in 1996. Following his political detention by the junta of General Sani Abacha, he was awarded the PEN Freedom-to-Write Award in 1998 and the Hellman/Hammett Human Rights Award in 1999. Today, Akin Adesokan teaches Comparative Literature at Indiana University, Bloomington, Indiana.

In solidarity with Akin Adesokan, present at The Life House on the day of his reading were many writers, journalists, theatre practitioners, and book lovers. Some of the faces I recognised are: Toyin Akinosho, Uzor Maxim Uzoatu, Toni Kan, Jumoke Verissimo, Victor Ehikhamenor, and Kunle Ajibade. Upon my arrival at The Life House I had met Deji Toye, who was the moderator of the event, reclining in a colourful sofa under the shade of a well-pruned tree, deep in conversation with A. Igoni Barrett, a writer.

After a while, the small crowd that was gathered in the front yard of The Life House began to spread out, and then broke into three independent groups, as I can remember. Everyone was chatting heartily, shaking hands, roaring in laughter and engaging in warm embraces, the kind that reveals how long you have missed a friend. It was at this juncture it became apparent that the event had to begin.

Mind you, the guest, Prof. Akin Adesokan, was among the early birds. Dressed in an orange long-sleeved shirt tucked into a pair of dark blue trousers, he had strolled in—a leather bag clutched in his right hand—in the company of his bosom friend and the publisher of his first book, Toyin Akinosho, who also doubles as the Secretary-general of CORA.

Deji Toye (L) and Akin Adesokan

When the moderator ushered Akin Adesokan to his seat—a flower-pattered armchair facing the curious audience—it was glaring that an air of electric anticipation pervaded the hall. As if to seduce us, the audience, the hall took on an aura of a rare literary faculty, an impact that I assumed was soon transferred to everyone present. (How I wish I am allowed to a bit of exaggeration here, but, alas, I am not!) The audience of a sudden seemed to possess, at the introduction of the special guest, a sombre and discerning ability, so much so that even a small wheezy cough at the back of the hall could be accorded some semiotic importance. Such was the situation and and a befitting welcome indeed for the man of the moment: Akin Adesokan.

Of course, everyone at the venue was already familiar with the name, yet the formality of introduction was still needed, especially as the occasion was official, coupled with the fact that the audience was composed of Nigerians and non-Nigerians, men and women who were keen to listen to this celebrated writer. They might have known the name and the face that bore it via so many modern means—Facebook and suchlike; however, some strange faces around must have wanted an indepth history surrounding the ebullient, young professor.

After the impactful introduction by Deji Toye, the stage was set. The next thing on the moderator’s agenda was to call upon Toyin Akinosho to read from the guest’s novel Roots in the Sky. As the event unfolded it became clear that emphasis wasn’t on Adesokan’s debut novel and that Mr Akinosho’s reading from that book was only meant to whet the appetite of the audience and probably to douse the conversational tension that had accompanied them from the open space outside right into the hall.

Simply spellbinding is the only way to describe Akin Adesokan’s reading from his novel in progress entitled South of the Still River. He had remarked that his friend Toyin Akinosho often mocks him that his novel will “never be fit for picnics” nor likely to be taken for a pleasure read, but the effect of this unfinished novel on the audience proved otherwise. The language was superb, simple to understand, rife with native images that showed that, yes, this was an African writer at work.

Notwithstanding that I didn't actually hear Adesokan read out any African idiom, the humour was potent enough to provoke outbursts of laughter at intervals. Before he commenced reading he had given the audience ample hint of the story-line. He said that the novel is an autobiography of an African writer, whose identity is a revelation of the true-life situation that some people do not belong to any country. Symbolically, the central character doesn't belong to a specific country: his only means of statehood is a UN passport. He is perpetually in exile but with an eagle eye fixed on the political and economic developments back home, in this instance the continent of Africa.

The audience

Adesokan noted that apart from this novel he is also working on a trilogy that attempts to deal squarely with Lagos life in ways ranging from a distinctive deployment of language as peculiar to the city, its environmental scenes, down to characterisation, etc. 

When the floor was thrown open for questions, they came in a barrage because of the range of issues Adesokan had traversed in the course of his reading. Among the questions that were flung at him were these, paraphrased below:

Give reasons why you are concerned with the past as a modern writer in a present-day Nigeria by delving into the 70’s in Roots in the Sky?

Does Nollywood really embody the whole of the Nigerian film industry, especially as there are other film-making bodies—such as the makers of Yoruba and Hausa movies—that are not integrated into the Nollywood name?

What spurs your writing—is it your academic achievement as a professor of comparative literature or is it your sheer love and talent for writing?

The question I found most fascinating came from a mature audience member who observed from the progression of Adesokan’s reading that there had been a change in the viewpoint of the brain behind the writing. While noting this morph, he questioned what could be responsible for such.

"In responding to the issue of delving into the past to feed a present society, he argued that without the past there can never be the present and that the burdens the present bears are the negligence of the past whose scars still haunt us into the mire we find ourselves today."

In reactions to these questions and others, Adesokan dexterously tackled each with a finesse that left everyone satisfied. In responding to the issue of delving into the past to feed a present society, he argued that without the past there can never be the present and that the burdens the present bears are the negligence of the past whose scars still haunt us into the mire we find ourselves today. He added that if such problems that forged our background are not addressed, we are bound to repeat same injurious errors. He also gave plausible points on why we must accept that Nollywood, irrespective of its shortcomings, has made commendable progress. He disagreed that he got into writing on the basis of his academic feats, citing examples from his career in the 90s as a lover of literature even when he had no such academic qualifications. In answer to the question that there is a change of outlook evident in his writing, he answered in the affirmative, saying that of course there were slight changes as his experiences over the years had increased with maturity and exposure to new ideas and experiences in a turbulent, fast-moving world, and all these had no doubt redefined his perspective. Thus he concluded.

—Samuel Osaze works with Committee for Relevant Art as a Programme Officer.

Chimamanda Adichie at Calabash Lit Fest in Jamaica

Photo by Andre Bagoo

The Calabash International Literary Festival returned after a one-year break to offer a full feast of readings, conversations and discussions about writing, and music from May 25 to 27 at its customary location, Jakes in Treasure Beach, Jamaica. Although located in a remote village, the festival, which scheduled a mix of local and international talent, is the most popular event of its kind in Jamaica, pulling an attendance of thousands over the three days. The organisers—led by film producer Justine Henzell and poet and lecturer Kwame Dawes—had as the theme “Jubilation”, in recognition of Jamaica's 50th anniversary of political independence.

The opening evening, Friday, slated Nigerian writer, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie and New York City native, Victor Lavalle, under the banner “Two the Hard Way”. Although the organisers usually stay away from naming headliners, Ms Adichie was the pulling card for the hundreds who made her presentation their main event. Adichie's two novels, Purple Hibiscus and Half of a Yellow Sun, are well known to recreational readers in Jamaica, so her audience was excited to see her and they showed her love from the moment she touched the stage. She, in turn, seemed to sense the good vibe and executed a flawless delivery.

Her appearance in her trademark cosmopolitan styling went down well with the crowd which was made up mostly of professionals, academics, corporate executives and practitioners in the creative industries.

Photo by Andre Bagoo

Not all writers are captivating readers, but Ms Adichie had the full package. Adichie selected to read material about her own life and family in Nigeria and her natural voice has warm tones which carry her own words calmly, with conviction and with beauty. Perhaps unknown to her, she is a package that is already known to us—and beloved by us—the flowering of the daughter of a leading academic, exposed from a young age to good writing, informed discussions about ideas, and also passionately patriotic about her country.

Adichie’s first reading was recollections of the university campus house where she was raised, and which had been previously lived in by Nigerian writer, Chinua Achebe—one of her writing influences. She presents the home as a quiet place for reflections, dreams and a place to return to and feel rooted in. It is also where she started her first writing projects.

Achebe is the African writer that most Jamaican readers would know. He spoke a few years ago at the University of the West Indies, Mona, and many at the festival would have attended that event. For those in the audience who had the memory of his reading informing their senses as they listened to her, the dual experience would have seemed satisfying and meaningful.

May is a rainy month in Jamaica, even in the water-parched region of Treasure Beach, but it did not rain this year. Somehow, mosquitos find a way to survive and they bit into Adichie as she started her second selection. A volunteer lady-in-waiting, clad in unadorned white linen, wafted out of the audience and generously misted Adichie with repellent. She graciously acknowledged the pampering and flowed into the second reading.

Recollecting her Uncle Mai was a much more intimate reading. Adichie opened up on her personal experience of losing a loved one—a beloved uncle who died recently from a chronic disease. As writer, Adichie expertly handled bearing witness to the ongoing deterioration of someone who was close to her; and the inevitable committal of the body. Her words were clear, calm, accepting of what the family had to face, especially with his decision to limit his options for treatment.

Adichie became known to many in Jamaica through a speech that she delivered with thoughts on The Danger of a Single Story. That video went viral because of how she delivered that oft-lamented petulance that stories outside of the interest of major media outlets are not told. One listener said it was "revolutionary" because she was able to use her platform of fame to further the message with a clear, calm and beautiful delivery. Adichie packed those characteristics into her reading in Treasure Beach and at some time in the future she will know that Jamaicans reward that respect of audience with long memories of affection.

—Gwyneth Harold is a writer in Jamaica. Her book for young adults Bad Girls in School was published by Harcourt and is a part of the Caribbean Writers Series. She is currently working on another novel.