Saturday, 16 July 2016

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.


Friday, 8 July 2016

HELLO FEAR





This is the other piece co-written by Charity Vivi and me. She is a lady of exceptional talent and creativity whom I hope continues to write even after. 




He slumped at the door, head pounding. He’d drunk too much. His wife was shrieking at him again. His eyes shut, he tried to steady himself. His head throbbed harder. Maria went on; all the more incensed.
‘Look at you, drunk and dozing in my door way, ‘she burst out, ‘you’re useless!’
‘He staggered forward, shut the door, looked at her then leaned back against the wall. He would interject but saw no point to it. She never listened nor did she understand him. Not anymore. He’d fallen from grace and that was all that mattered.
Owen had had an awful month and this week was the crown jewel on it. His business portfolio had fallen out under him. His clients had either gone bankrupt or just shut down their accounts. The firm was ‘right sizing’ and he had been let go of. His clandestine affairs had glaringly come to light, and all else that could go wrong did.
He slid down the wall and sat on his haunches. Pain seared through him like spurts of lightening. He became aware that he was bleeding from his abdomen. Maria had not noticed. The bar fight had left him badly wounded. With any luck, this would be the end of his mysteries.
He was sure the nosey neighbours were keenly waiting for him to raise his voice too. Sadly, the script had changed. Maria had noticed the change too. She glowered at him. Her fiery eyes that he had fallen in love with. Their deep brown colour that seemed to hypnotize all. He smiled at how lovely she still was. She had caught his attention in university after she had barked at a lecturer for making a snide remark. Her fiery temper made most men cower at her sight. He had only spoken to her as a dare from his less courageous counterparts.
She stood in a blue dress, beautiful but formidable. She was a rare breed, a lady who commanded respect and attention. Her company was mostly ladies of mettle but none as impressive as her. She had told him off severally, but he was too scared of the embarrassment and enthralled in her beauty to give up. He persisted until finally she gave in.
He was drawn to the joy she gave him. The numerous times he said,
‘My beauty, you make me happy.’
‘You had better keep me happy,’ she kidded.
He strove if only to impress her, but love like headlights depend on a battery and his was waning lately. They spent more time apart, and when together, tempers were short. Then came the drinking, the partying and all that characterized the slippery slope. Now he was at the bottom of it all.   
‘What are smiling at, you fool?’ she growled.
‘Your beauty dear, I am sorry I never took the time to appreciate it,’ he said soothingly.
‘You’re not squeezing your way out of this one. No, you’re not,’ she rebuffed wagging her finger and shaking her head, eyes closed.
He felt himself drift off slowly, he was getting light headed. The shards of glass were making themselves effectively felt. Owen was seated in a pool of blood, his brown suit now a strange hue of red, so was the blue shirt. Maria noticed it with a start. Her scream served more to ignite curiosity than to cause alarm among her bigoted neighbours. The came rushing, expecting to spectate as the fight was underway. Owen half mumbled something before drifting off.
‘You did this, didn’t you?’ accused a neighbour
She screamed at Owen to wake up while the neighbours came up with comic speculations that were too fantastic. Only one had dialled the emergency services. By the time the police and paramedics arrived, there was pandemonium. They had to whisk Maria away before the angry mob descended on her. Owen mumbled how much he loved her and how sorry he was. He’d been sedated and wheeled away on a stretcher. The medics worried about his chances.
Owen was slipping from this reality to the next. He felt complicated at that time and much worse. He felt raw, as if he was being dismantled by the good lord down to his bare essentials. The good old Owen stood before himself. Unlike some, whose lives flash before their eyes, he only had time to cry.
‘Listen to me Owen, don’t lose my voice. Okay?’ Kent, the medic attending to him said as he studied his heart rate on the B.P. monitor. Kent was doing his best to stay afloat in his own panic. Not that he knew Owen and neither had he seen him before but the fact that he kept saying, ‘Maria, I’ m sorry…’ made his heart ache for him. At this point he hated his job because it stipulated that he had to rescue those too afraid to step into hades, though half of them deserved it. He was human, he didn’t ask permission to be, and he just was. Owen was human too, and was slowly sinking down the drain.
‘Owen, you’re doing great, you’ll get through this,’ Kent counselled
‘Is this the end?’ he asked cryptically. God knew he was scared to the core.
Owen was scared that one plus one was always two that a man reapeth what he soweth. He felt in himself that he sowed a lot of fear. Fear from every side even in his own wife. He had heard that even though a sinner, god loved it when a dying man gave up the fight. Not only would the man stop running from the truth, but also gently offered the white towel down on a bended knee; for man knew too well to ‘throw in the white towel’ to the great one. At this point, Owen was at the end of his road, he was giving up. He looked at the monitor at his side and vaguely wished that just as the pulse portrayed itself as a curve rising from one end to another, his battery which was slowly waning would have power to send Maria some sort of message. A curve saying ‘I-love-you’ and if that would not suffice he would send a straight line to her saying ‘I am sorry’ even though he knew that the monitor would not show such. That meant he was dying. As he stared in to that green glow, Owen newton III felt empty and the last thing he remembered thinking was, ‘hello fear, it has been a while.’
***
It was yet another night and Maria was staring blankly at the moon, she saw a shooting star and thought off Owen. She was running away from the fragility of her own passion and she didn’t know what she was looking or even what she’d find. She had been dumb since Owen was taken away in an ambulance and she herself to the police station. The policemen, she remembered, had been brain washed by the neighbours, they wouldn’t let her speak. As she sat in the corner of her cell crying, she felt tired of being tired. Every once in a while constable Luroe, being one of her neighbours, came and beat the daylight out of her. He also made insane accusations refusing to believe that she had nothing to do with Owen’s stabbing.
She wanted Owen so bad that she would have carved him out of the mattress she slept on just so she could touch him. Owen was the brighter definition of ambiguous. He confused her and she would die just looking at him and trying to decipher him. Every time he said ‘hey, love I’m headed to work. Take care of yourself for me, will you?’ it felt like an antacid that revealed the pain of an ever burning feeling of inadequacy. Inadequacy back at work, with her friends and even with her family. She felt the room getting bigger and she getting smaller. No words would have the magic to take the sting out of her emotions. Owen was the only one who broke down every wall she had built. Even though things were shaky now, he was the only one who understood what it meant to be her.
Pain, it splattered tear drops on her blouse and she wished her blood would turn into alcohol, inebriate her, make her drowsy and forget it all. She was thinking, ‘maybe I should let go.’ She pawned herself out and the pawn broker demanded for her wedding ring just in case she wouldn’t come back to hold up her end. As she crept out of the prison cell, most of her stayed behind with the wedding ring, ‘in situ’ and not willing to let it go. She was currently a suspect to a case she could not even comprehend. ‘What’s happening to me?’ she asked between sobs.
Maria was always inquisitive from the day her father left and her mother stopped caring. Not to say that her mother did not bother with her affairs. She was just unable to care after Maria’s father walked out on her. With love, she’d learnt that it takes a whole lot of medication to realize what they had as husband and wife. They did not have it anymore. not only had Maria's mother died a short while earlier, she had gone with whatever semblance of love that Maria had  known all her life. She  knew that as much as she hated herself,she loved her daughter and did not whisked of the face of the earth like so many others. Her mother was a tormented soul, always afraid of things  she could not understand, even love itself.
On that uneventful day that she took a gallon of bleaching agent carefully mixed with pesticide, she wrote a note, "Do not let my daughter know I took my own life, keep her safe." That was a throwback through time. unfortunately  for Maria, the ghosts her mother had tried to keep veiled from her were creeping out of the shadows. Maria was atop times tower, ready tell the suckers by and leap for glory. the height above people level was scary, so scary she couldn't count one, two, three jump. she felt like an eraser always trying to fix mistakes  and wasting away slowly, unable to leave her mark on society.
Owen was on the otherside as the sky light split in two, miles away, unable to see her or slap the senses back into her and bring her to reality. She lost her grip on reality and was ready to hit the wall to confirm it was solid. She was lost.
"If you were here Owen, I swear I wouldn't go this far...They're everywhere looking for me, saying that I killed you!" she broke down and let the warm tears gash down her cheeks. Maria felt timeless, she had camouflaged into insanity and for what it was worth, she spread her arms and shut her eyes for a moment. She leaned forward but before she started to tip over she had a voice behind her.
' Please stop. come on its not worth it,' he spoke.
'You dont know me, so stop talking to me, " she gnarled back at him.
 "Then tell me your name miss..." he implored
This was not what she had in mind. She just wanted to end it all and this man in uniform was not helping"
'My name is Maria, Maria Newton ....

Wednesday, 6 July 2016

contrast



She came to me, old and wise.
I came to her, young and wild
Her soul must have been every shade of white
My heart darker than night
But still she brought me light

She watched me, consumed by chance and flight,
While she was grounded and contrite
She stepped with even temperament
Where I leapt to sounding dissonance
My thoughts lacking measurement

She showed me the colour of love
The beauty of the earth and all above
Shared a mothers touch
And I had her close at heart
She I longed to touch.

Featured post

DID I?

Did I tell you How lovely you are? The glimmer In the smile you have, The shine it gives To this colourful world Did I tell you, Yo...