Center Can No Longer Hold

“My weapon is literature” - Chinua Achebe

            I first met Achebe in the late 2006. I was a jeune homme of 17 years. Naïve and untested in the life after high school. Completion of high school the previous month meant I could now ‘face life’ as they taunted the shit out of us. With all time in my hands, I had to settle for something I loved. Having established a deep devotion and adoration for the written word in high school, I carried on with the habit. Old habits die hard anyway. I was meeting the famed Father of African Literature for the first time in his seminal work of Things Fall Apart. 

            As the Igbo saying goes: Akwukwo juru n'ohia, ma a baa a choba okazi meaning despite the variety of leaves found in the bush, people prefer to search only for okazi leaves. In other words, only a few are chosen among the multitude. Chinua Achebe was the chosen one. I enjoyed the simplicity with which he told his narrative about Okonkwo especially the first opening chapter. 

            “Okonkwo was well known throughout the nine villages and even beyond. His fame rested on solid personal achievements. As a young man of eighteen he had brought honour to his village by throwing Amalinze the Cat.”

            Achebe simply amazed because of his easy storylines especially in books such as Things Fall Apart, No Longer At Ease and Arrow of God. However, his last novel in my take was not a free ride. The previous year, I recall a friend lent me Anthills of Savannah because I was burning with zealousness to sample an Achebe book. I tried and failed. 

            Okonkwo has become a hero even beyond literary pages because of the book’s appeal to people of different ages. A venerated hero in the whole of Umuofia and even in Mbaino among other villages, the wrestling champion found it hard when British imperialists descended upon his country. Traditional culture and colonialism clash because the white man has come with trickery and deceit to win over souls. Achebe notes:

            “The white man is very clever. He came quietly and peaceably with his religion. We were amused at his foolishness and allowed him to stay. Now he has won our brothers, and our clan can no longer act like one. He has put a knife on the things that held us together and we have fallen apart.” 

            Later when Okonkwo comes from exile after a murder fiasco, he finds a changed community. The greatest tragedy is the hopes the protagonist comes with back to his village only to realize things will never be the same again. Bitterness and distrust of how the colonialists raped African cultures for their evil gain is well depicted. This statement sums up the haunting reality of change and ushering in of the white man into Africa despite his malevolent machinations:

            “Okonkwo was deeply grieved. And it was not just a personal grief. He mourned for the clan, which he saw breaking up and falling apart, and he mourned for the warlike men of Umuofia, who had so unaccountably become soft like women. 

            Chinua Achebe became the defining center of African literature at a time when no African author had stepped forward to tell our stories with clarity and evocation. He had been the first emblem of the African story who told it without fear or favor.  One commentator glorified him with sentimental adulation in the Vanguard magazine as “…one of the best things that ever happened to the Black Race.” 

            The final bow of Okonkwo – a frustrated former village champion demonstrates the enormity of disgust and confusion that afflicted the African soul. Achebe’s hero becomes the embodiment of the struggle between two opposing cultures. It’s like imperialism won over the African cultures. But unlike the dangling and dead Okonkwo whom the District Commissioner remarks – perhaps out of absolute mockery that “One could almost write a whole chapter on him”, Achebe is larger than a chapter.

             His narrative will unfold into infinity through his novels, short stories, essays, poems and children’s books. Achebe has earned himself among the pantheons of not only African Literature but beyond in the world stage. But again, William Shakespeare reminds us in his play As You Like It that “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances...” Achebe has played his part and exited. It is upon us especially literary lovers to climb the stage with our costumes and play our roles of taking Literature to the next level. 

            In his short story, The Dead, Irish-born writer James Joyce remarks: “Those days might, without exaggeration, be called spacious: and if they are gone beyond recall let us hope, at least, that in gatherings such as this we shall still speak of them with pride and affection, still cherish in our hearts the memory of those dead and gone great ones whose fame the world will not willingly let die.” 

            Achebe is gone physically but his writings will live on. Go in peace, mzee.

           

                                    

I Shall Not Give Up On My Motherland

          “I cried that our democracy gave us the worst. I shall never give up! Our time shall come and our children will enjoy the fruits!"

            -Boniface Mwangi- Award winning journalist and social activist.

            Kenyan Dream died on March 9^th.  A part of my heart died with it. First, I have to apologize that I am a tribalist. On March 4^th, I voted along tribal line because I wanted ‘our man’ to take over the torch of this nation. I admit guilt. Forgive me. But how did a majority of the nation turn such tribal? Jubilee ganged up the ‘Tyranny of Numbers’ and CORD amassed the Eastern and Nyanza ethnic blocs to win the election. When did it come to this? I know that is  a question that cannot be answered within this time frame. 

            Kenyan Dream died because the majority voted in the status quo. We let off a moment in history slip by all in the name of ‘compact majority.’ Mutahi Ngunyi aptly called it ‘Tyranny of Numbers.’ Check the word again ‘Tyranny.’ That’s the word.  Simply oppressive numbers. We had a moment to choose a lesser devil but we failed. And that’s what democracy is all about anyway. You elect your own demons. 

            Tribalism has mutated into an interesting thing in recent years. This is not based on any research but it is there in the open. The most tribalized people in our country right now are the youth. The majority of this population. Those who have had the privilege of exposure. People like me who have been raised in different provinces, interacted with friends from various ethnic communities and have had the benefit of technology. We get informed every second. We are tech-savvy. But in the modern Kenya we are worse than our fathers and mothers. Those of whom some lacked the exposure to travel around and witness firsthand tolerance and love between, for example, a Luo and a Kikuyu. I am a living example of those youth who has had his education in Nyanza, Central and Western. By normal standards I am diverse. I may say that. But that horrible virus of tribalism has infected me. 

            In the run up to the general election, anyone who bothered to visit the social networks especially Facebook will attest to the fact that our society is sick. We are going to the dogs in matters concerning nationhood. A friend recently noted to me that post election violence of the just concluded elections happened in the social networks. I witnessed it firsthand because I earn my daily bread online and it is horrendous. The ‘techno-fight’ I saw and still seeing in Facebook is a sign of bad times. Both Generations Y and X have lost their brains. The vitriol in social networks demands that our national leaders urgently address this escalating potent phenomenon. And it will not be hushed with empty rhetoric of ‘Let us move on’ and ‘Peace’ calls, no. The elephant in the room must be hauled outside and shamed. Young people need to be fumigated with intense prayers and counseling. Education on the pride of nationhood should be among the priorities of the incoming government. But again, the question comes, if they used us as pawns to win the elections, how will they teach us nationhood? Between a rock and hard place you say. All in all it must be done. It is urgent. 

            Another shocking element of our recent idiocy after the elections is trashing CORD presidential candidate’s decision to go to court to challenge the election. Log in to Facebook and read what both the old and the young are saying. The educated and not educated, the informed and not informed, mainstream journalists and bloggers – there is a popular rallying call. ‘Concede we move on.’ What precedent are we setting for our institutions? Because ‘our man’ won today, let the aggrieved just concede then ‘we build this beautiful nation. We need to move on.’ Tomorrow what if ‘our man’ lost. Would we stand by ‘Kubali yaishe (Accept we get over it)? That’s the rot of what tribalism has done to national psyche. We have become so polarized we defend ‘our criminals.’ That’s our man, don’t touch him. Right now social networks borders on shameful ignorance blinded by negative ethnicity. 

         The new president of this nation has work cut out for him. Let him heal us from ignorance. If he will have to hire T.D Jakes, Reinhard Bonnke or even Benny Hinn I don’t care but I want our ignorance cleansed. If he chooses to go East, still okay but we need prayers.

             Kenyan Dream died because we have refused break up with the past. This is not what Koigi wa Wamwere, Wanyiri Kihoro, George Anyona, Chelagat Mutai, Gitobu Imanyara suffered for. This is not what even CORD presidential candidate Raila Odinga got detained for together with Charles Rubia, Kenneth Matiba and renowned humorist the late Wahome Mutahi aka Whispers. It is not what student leaders got jailed and died for.  We may want to couch it with savory words such as ‘majority’ or ‘democracy’ or ‘the people have spoken’ but our folly remains. Some words to ponder about from the Norwegian playwright in his play ‘An Enemy of the People’:

         “The majority is never right. Never, I tell you! That's one of these lies in society that no free and intelligent man can help rebelling against. Who are the people that make up the biggest proportion of the population the intelligent ones or the fool”

 

 

           

Born to Use Words and Mics?

A Word & A Mic went down yesterday at Timers restaurant amid fanfare after a long slumber. This comes after a vicious onslaught in a local daily against Spoken Word artists and the outbreak of poetry events that have come to define Nairobi.

The show themed 'I vote peace' 'I vote love' 'I vote unity' started one and a half hours late with Siri ya Muziki band getting on stage with their song ‘Maisha ya Nairobi.’ Siri ya Muziki is a band of five ladies- four on the vocals and one on the drums together with two gentlemen on the guitars.

Next on stage was Kelvin Kaesa D’gothgeek who captured the audience with his ‘Jesus Pieces’ to round of applause and ululation. The crowd did not have to wait for long because Siri ya Muziki was back this time with a soulful piece entitled ‘Gari la Moshi.’ They followed it with a sentimental ballad done in English, Kiswahili and Kikuyu.

 

However, the electrifying performance of Ernest Wamboye-a self published novelist –left the audience in pearls of laughter with his refrain of ‘Creek-Crack.’ Unlike other performers, he dazzled the audience with his lively storytelling skills marked with calculated movement on the stage.

Flowflani-my favorite performer who has taken rapoetry to stratospherical levels entertained the audience with his usual witty wordplay accompanied by self-composed beats on the microphone.

Koa Jagero’s highly satirical poem ‘Violence is Good’ became the standard parameter for the audience to briefly reflect on the ramifications of turning against one another because of election results. Koa, a passionate photographer, read from his poem: “I come from the ghettos where cowards never lived. I come from where peace never lived. Violence runs the city.”

A fellow called Rampho later diluted the jazz feel in the restaurant with his forced rhymes. An example of fakes masquerading in poetry events. One could as well have chosen to watch the ‘Final Submissions’ of Jubilee and CORD rallies on Citizen TV beaming live though muted in the restaurant. 

Siri ya Muziki returned later with ‘Kwaheri.’ However, not before one of the vocalists-a bespectacled angel- reminded the audience on the need to maintain peace during Monday’s elections. This band will go places. Mark my words. Their last song left people cheering and fidgeting in their seats-a majority were shy including this writer to arise and shake a leg.

D’gothgeek returned with his combative piece ‘Nimechoka’ that questions the divisive nature of our politicians. The piece reminded the audience on the need to cast one’s vote to bring change.

After straight two hours of fun against a backdrop of political madness on the streets-final campaigns by leading presidential contenders, the show was wrapped up by Wamboye. The audience laughed so hard, I bet some had stomache.

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Only for Manchester United to pound Norwich courtesy of Kagawa. Barcelona again saw daylights beaten out of them by rivals Real Madrid.