OPEN PALMS

I hold out an open palm

To show I have no secrets left,

That I have nothing to hide

We delved into those thoroughly.

So now we must show open hands

I hold out an open palm,

To show that I bear no grudge;

Not for the pain you have caused

Nor the betrayal you sowed

I return no harm unforced

I hold out an open palm

For you to perceive as you will.

If you think it as welcome,

Or consider it a threat

I am certain you won’t regret

I hold out an open palm

Take it if you will dear friend

Shun it if you must all the same

I trust you still all the same

An open palm

For  you, it still remains

THE TREE OF ELUKONGO

Before you start reading this, you need to know that this is the story of a tree. No, it is not a magical tree if that is what you are thinking.  It did however, have everything magical about it. If by the end of it, you would want to see the tree, I will show you where it once stood.

It was a large fig tree. The largest tree I have ever seen in my entire life. It stood in the compound across from the gate. Towering over all other trees in the compound and village as well. Need I inform you that the village of Elukongo was once a forest? Farming activities led to the felling of most of the trees. A large number still stand though. None however was as marvelous as the fig tree that stood in Mr. Asonga’s compound.

The tree was so towering and looming.  I say looming because its branches were spread all over the compound like a magnificent umbrella. If it was a human being, it would be a seven foot tall person with his arms spread above everyone else’s head. It was green from January through to September, and then it would shed its leaves for the rest of the year. Even so it was still quite beautiful. Its branches were so numerous that it still gave shade without its leaves. It stood across from the main get, on the right hand side of the house. All seeing and all perceiving.

As a child, whenever I heard of the Mugumo tree, I pictured that humongous tree towering over all the rest. Whenever I heard the creation stories, I would imagine that God himself came to plant this particular tree. That he laid out its large roots, artistically spreading them so they acted as a make shift stage during functions. That he shaped the stem to make its girth and height as imposing as ever. That he also carved a hollow in it that would be home to several creatures over the years.

The tree housed a number of animals. The swarm of bees was the longest residence of the tree and the most welcome. Their constant buzzing during the day as they went to and fro the hive. The thing that appealed most to me was that, no matter how many times we tried to smoke them away, they came back. It was as though the tree would purge itself and summon them back. They would return buzzing louder and longer than before. If one was new to the area, they would not be mistaken for expecting to see a public gathering when they heard the bees.

Then there were the monkeys. This set of animals never got along with anything on the farm. Not the people, nor the dogs, nor the bees. But they loved the tree. Its height and numerous branches provided a perfect vantage point for them to spy on all the happenings below. If you tried to hurl stones at them, they were certain not to reach the intended target. In addition, the tree served as a perfect junction for the monkey hopping along the canopies of all the trees that fenced the compound. The tree was their perfect escape, before they were all hunted down and killed.

I am inclined to believe that the tree some how helped in their demise. The monkey disrespected it, breaking brunches and throwing them down at oblivious passers-by. In its revenge, numerous monkeys slipped on its branches and fell to the capture or death at its roots. Before their complete disappearance, they learnt to avoid that marvelous tree. In some ways they revered it. They no longer broke its branches, nor did they disturb those who sheltered in its shade. The tree on the other hand seemed to stand proud, glad to have restored its dignity. Vehement to anyone that would want to harm it.

A few years after that, it housed an owl. It was a huge grey bird. The owl had its nest hidden between three branches that gave it effective cover. This was ages before Harry Porter made owls appealing. The people in Elukongo are a very superstition lot. The presence of an owl in the tree that was also itself an item of superstition did not board well. The belief that owls are harbingers of death bothered many of the residence. However the recent experience with the monkeys was not to be soon forgotten. After much debate, some young brave fellow took it upon himself to climb the tree and vacate the owl.

“A broken leg I can deal with. Death on the other hand I am not ready for.” The young man said

“You do not know what spirits possess that tree. Or why the owl feels welcome with the bees. You will die either way if you climb it.”

“I will take my chances.” The fellow replied belligerently

I find it strange that no one bothered to consult us. None of the immediate occupants of Mr. Asonga’s compound were bothered by the owl. Perhaps it was the fact that we were only there for a few weeks a year. But we were never as superstitious as the rest and thought of the owl to be an amusing resident, big eyes, pouty face and all. The fellow who went up the tree did not share our enthusiasm. He brought down its nest, with two small eggs in it.  He came down with a fractured leg too. But his job was done, the indignant owl mourned for the night and flew of to some distant place, parting with the tree for good.

The next set of residents was a group that I despised greatly: eagles. There is a special bond that luhyas have with chicken. However, eagles like to snatch up chicks before they can grow up into hens and end up on a luhya’s plate. I loved the chicks; I would feed them under the shade of that great tree. Sometimes I would watch them as they climbed to drink water that had settled between the roots. Then, as though it was out of spite, the eagles would swoop down, takes the healthiest of the chicks and fly up into the tree. I hated them for that and the fact that they ate the chicks with gluttonous glee.

Given the security of their nests, more eagles flocked to the tree. After a while, I was convinced that our compound would be the only one in all of western Kenya that would never have chicken. I however find the story of how they came to migrate more entertaining. One of the eagles unwittingly picked up a duckling instead of a chick. The mother duck flew furiously after them climbed into the tree and took down all their nests. The eagles seemed more startled than anything and took of. I was delighted by that.

I heard about a final resident, but who I never saw. A python that was rather oversize. It had crawled into the hollow in the tree and nestled there. Snakes are generally not welcome guests. More so if they can make a meal of you. It was at this point that the tree was irreparably damaged. A foolish man set the tree a blaze to force the snake out. The fire was put out, and the snake was killed. But the tree was forever damaged.

 The strangest thing about the tree is how its health and my father’s were closely intertwined. When Mr. Asonga’s health started to dwindle, so did the trees. It was also strange how their lives seemed bound together. When you were bothered and sat in the trees shade, some mystical wisdom would lend itself to you and solve your problem. The kind of wisdom I found in my father.  Perhaps it was just coincidence and I was reading in to it. Perhaps it was not. However, in the same year Mr. Asonga was laid to rest, three meters from where it stood, the tree too died. Now all that is left of it are the memories of it.

THE BREAK UP

Here we are again

Just like we were before

I knocking at the door,

And you forcing it closed.

It was always bound to be like this

You see, you were always looking for an end,

I was always looking for a beginning.

It was always your choice to make

And I was too slow to accept.

Always believing I could bargain

I have clung to this dream for long,

Resented you for choosing to go alone

When I thought I should come along

But it was a wise choice you made

It is time I learn to respect.

I was looking to turn the page,

You were looking to toss the book

A choice you needed to make

A choice I needed to accept

So now fare thee well, I accept

LAST EMBRACE

We stand on the grey steps beneath the moon

My hands cupped around your face

The prelude to a deep embrace

The interlude to the meeting of lips

The passion, reality might eclipse.

You are the lie that I clasp to my face,

I am the truth you cast from your chest

You are the only mistake I left in my wake

The dreams scattered in high noon

Still, they you are inside my head.

Under the cloak of night

I believed I could give you everything

But you felt I could give you nothing

On these grey steps beneath the moon

Still, there you are inside my head.

I will dream of you, you will dream of me too

Figments of thoughts fading in light

I hold your hands, wrap them in mine

My lips pressed against your face

Like treasured gold, I feel the taste

This is our last embrace.

AFRICA REVIEW: A LITERARY AND SOCIETAL APPROACH

AFRICA REVIEW: A LITERARY AND SOCIETAL APPROACH

Africa has been non responsive to the demands and concerns of African literature and writers

Africa as a continent has lent a deaf ear to the concerns of African writers.  Literature is a reflection of society and has the purpose of illuminating a problem in society and offering a solution to it. It is ironic that the very same issues raised by writers in the 1960’s by African writers are still dogging the continent. Furthermore literature happens to be one of the starting points in initiating change in society, in Africa however the readers do not seem to pay much attention to what authors talk about hence fail to understand the need for change. It is as though readers look at it only as literature and not as a mirror of the society even with the numerous similarities existing between the literary   works and their society. This statement arises with keen scrutiny on the political, social, economic and cultural conditions in African states.  Most countries in Africa have marked or will be marked 50 years of independence. These celebrations will be largely insignificant since not much has changed since independence. More alarming is the fact that political instability and corruption have become highly rampant in the continent. The nature of things in the continent bids the proverb a forest may change but the monkeys remain the same. I will focus three texts to illustrate the above statement .A man of the people by Chinua Achebe, Kongi’s Harvest By Wole Soyinka, A Mercedes Funeral by Ngugi WA Thiongo.

The first point I would like to draw focus to is the manner in which incumbents are reluctant to relinquish power. The trend especially in the recent past is an alarming indicator. The way elections are handled ending in both the incumbent and his main opposition claiming to have won is quite disheartening. This trend that was started by Kenya in 2007 has undoubtedly spread to the other nations with the exception of Ghana and South Africa having peaceful and unmarred elections. The incumbents abuse their power and use intimidation and bribery to deter any competition. Chief Nanga and chief Koko in a man of the people by Chinua Achebe are a depiction of these characters in society. Chief Nanga tries to persuade Odili to accept a bribe so that he can be elected unopposed. This portrayal in a book that was published in the year 1966 still applying to modern society is a grim indicator. Literature is meant to initiate change but in this situation seems to have clearly failed to bring about the desired change. It has been witnessed that some of the candidates in elections step down on the eve of the day in question in favor of a desired candidate. A recent example witnessed in a by- election in Kenya in which one of the candidates ,[1]stepped down on the eve of the election in favor of a fellow candidate Rueben Ndolo and had no action taken against him.

Free and fair elections seem to be an illusion in the African continent.  The incumbents intimidate their competitors so that they can retain their seats. Some political leaders are known to have had their competitors and their supporters arrested, jailed or at times killed. The most recent of these incidents being the elections in Zimbabwe and in Egypt where supporters of the opposition were subjected to violence, jailed and harassed so that they could not access both voting and nomination papers. Chinua Achebe sheds light on this in A Man of The People and Wole Soyinka in Kongi’s Harvest. Odili being put under arrest while unconscious, in hospital, so that he could not access his nomination papers is a depiction of such leaders in society. In kongi’s harvest the individuals opposing the king end up being detained and one of them ends up being killed. Zimbabwe is a depiction of these activities in modern day. Mugabe literary jailed opposition supporters and stated that he would not relinquish power regardless of the result.  The elections in Egypt this year are also to be put to question after opposition leaders and supporters were jailed and the efforts to acquire nomination and registration papers disrupted. The nation has being the subject of various human rights queries especially when it comes to the electoral process.

This spills over to our political leaders actions in power. The brutal methods used in the elimination of the opposition and those against their policies in the 1960’s are still rampant. The killing of a journalist in Rwanda for speaking out against the president and that of Moses Olempoe here in Kenya for opposing government policy is clear pointers to this undying characteristic. And as is the trend the investigations into their killings are likely to be dragged out over a long period of time and in the end forgotten with no justice served to the involved parties. Chinua Achebe depicts this in Chief Koko’s killing of Maxwell Kumalo so that he could scare those wishing to oppose him and retain his sit. This is similarly depicted by Wole Soyinka in his play Kongi’s Harvest. Kongi kills Segi’s father for having led an opposition against him. These books written in the 1960’s were meant to bring about change and awakening in society. Clearly this has not been met.

The electorate is also to blame for the lack of change in the continent. On a number of occasions they tend to elect individuals for what they are able to show off and not what they are capable of offering to the society in terms of development. A number of African writers have focused on this characteristic and tried to warn against it but it seems that what they said was neglected. The electorate is either to ignorant or blinded to notice the difference between leaders who promise actual development and those who use development to hold them hostage. The political elite do not develop some area in their constituencies so that they can keep the electorate at their mercy as they make false promises to them. Taking the example of John Joe James in A Mercedes Funeral by Ngugi Wa Thiongo who only visits his constituency to campaign for votes in the hope of retaining his parliamentary seat. He does nothing to better the living conditions of his people and participates in turning Wahinya’s funeral in to a show of wealth and power. The electorate also does not give much of a chance to people who have visionary ideas but do not have influence going back to a Mercedes funeral where the university student has great plans and ideas for the Ilmorog area but is overlooked for the wealth J.J.J. has to show off. In a man of the people Chief Nanga disrupts the supply of piped water to Odili’s village of Urua because he feels threatened and needs to scare the people to vote for him.

Corruption, tribalism and nepotism are other factors that seem unchanging if not growing worse. The politicians carry out development projects within their dockets on the basis of favors they owe those who helped them gain power or those they expect to get help from in the future. It has been witnessed that unqualified individuals get to positions the do not deserve ending in the delivery of poor services. African authors focused on this abuse of power to enable their tribesmen and those around them to get favors. Wole Soyinka points to this in “kongi’s harvest as he portrays the new Aweri's have some sort of personal relationship with Kongi. This affects how they advise him since it is turned into a contest of who knows the king better. In a man of the people the expert who allegedly advises Hon. T.C. Kobina to hold of on constructing the road to Urua also got the position through political favors. This is quite disappointing considering that over the years there has been a lot of talk on the crack down on impunity but the situation is still the same. Chief Nanga’s dealings with British Amalgamated also points out the “under the table dealings” politicians have with business partners so as to enrich themselves.  

Corruption tendencies in the continent and increase in nepotism on the continent is of concern. The appointment by Ugandan president Yoweri Museveni of his wife to a ministry is another evident sign that Africa is unwilling to learn from literature. Typical of dictatorial leaders, they pass benefits to their relatives and kick backs to their friends. This is all in an effort to consolidate their power. This is no different from the cases portrayed by Francis Imbuga in betrayal in the city. Similarly displayed in a Mercedes funeral by Ngugi Wa Thiongo.

Police brutality and abuse of power seem to be unchanged even through decades. Police killings that go unchecked as long as they serve the government are becoming increasingly common. The death of Adika in betrayal in the city and the murder of Kabito at the hands of police or government operatives are similar to murders in Kenya. The most recent being the murder of a lawyer and his client are good references to extra judicial killings. These facts that should not be acceptable are replicated all over the continent.

More alarming are the somewhat indifferent attitudes of individuals towards corruption that exists in the continent. It is almost as though many individuals are disillusioned in the fight or would rather condone it as a necessary evil. A number of people openly state that if they got a parliamentary seat they would use it to enrich themselves before developing the regions they wish to represent. This attitude is similar to that of the people in a man of the people like Odili’s father who would say “it is their time to eat,” and pretend not to see what goes on. Even with the increased educational progress, the existence of these attitudes only increases stagnation if not halting development completely.  African literature sought to create awareness against such vices and help people speak up against them but what is actually seen to happen appears to be quite the opposite.     

 Africa seemingly remains a continent with no identity of its own. The same ideas that African literature had ridiculed and rebuked are now popularly accepted and praised. The loud and over-bearing make up used by ladies critiqued by Okot P’bitek in Song of Lawino and Ama Atta Aido in the short story ‘in the cutting of a drink.’ This reversal of values gives testament to Taban Lo Lyong’s ‘Lexicographicide’. This is a continent that does not read and when it does, it does not see the sense in its study. Characters portrayed by David Mailu in his novel Jackie the Ravenous Pest are hailed in society. The society welcomes the open prostitution of university and college students and the death of morals.

It is not all doom and gloom though. With the right kind of consciousness Africa might have a chance of shading the dark past it seems to have clung to for decades. There are some positive strides made in gender empowerment. If the same energy can be channeled in addressing other problems, change is possible. I would however urge that the continent take greater notice of the concerns raised in literature. We should be people willing to change our paths and not live in vicious cycles of injustice and impunity.

---