I would say that one of my major life achievements is to live an ethical life free of conflict or negativity. In my attempts to live my life conflict-free I find myself in a boring cycle of repetition where consistency define my existence and so in an attempt to ‘spice up’ my life – disaster!
Picture this scenario, I wake up every morning at, say, 7 p.m. then do the necessaries and end up in class 10 minutes before the lecturer. Every day I follow this pattern until one day I wake up at 8 and a feeling of disappointment hits me and reminds me of how much I have failed…. Then picture this second scenario, today I wake up at 7, go to class 5 minutes before the lecturer. Tomorrow, I wake up at 8.30 and who knows what time I will get to class. Of course my life lies in the latter where many are the times I make the lecturer cross due to my tardiness. So I guess I fail in living an ethical life at least in the mornings.
So how I begin my mornings could be unethical, but at least I pride myself in doing my work, both academic and personal, following set ethical guidelines. This may include being faithful to do assignments, do them on time, and hand in quality work earned from my own sweat! Well, thinking about it, I do hand in my assignments and apart from the few errors here and there I would say I got the quality and hard work part covered. However, do I keep faithful to time constraints? Well, at least I try…a question here…is trying to be ethical being ethical? Does the saying, ‘it’s the thought that counts’, apply in this case?
I have a feeling I am being a bit too harsh on myself. Being a writer, there are things that I am ethically bound from doing and so I try and avoid them like the plague. Libel, plagiarism, deceit, propaganda…all these big words and yet my attempts to live an ethical life are drenched by the fact that I always lose when it comes to racing with time. Time, good old Grandfather Clock so old yet I never win, I guess life is the unethical party and I am the victim. Look at it this way, I cannot win in some situations. I have to do what I have to do when I have to do and since life, or time in particular, seems to mind caring how I handle my doings, it becomes unethical since the bar set is usually unrealistic and unfair. Unlucky me however, since the world is full of judgmental ethica-holics who live in that boring cycle I mentioned earlier.
Am I ethical? Maybe, maybe not…all I know is as long as I do not step on some toes…too hard, then I am good to go. So since you’ve read this you tell me am I ethical or am I not?
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
To Hague or Not To Hague
We must admit that in as much as patriotism is required of all of us, doing things the Kenyan way has at times left us hanging on the wrong end of a short string. I cannot blame Kenyans for their cynicism and overall carelessness especially towards our political structure. In less than six months, Kenya has seen several scandals that have left us in shame and disappointment in the people we trust to make our policies.The Goldenberg scandal, Laiko Regency Hotel saga, Triton scandal and the most recent maize scandal are some of the cases that make us question the role of the anti corruption commission. Out of these, the few that have been taken to court have ended up either hitting a dead end or making a disappearing act. Does this mean that we will therefore, never solve any of our problems? Last year saw the worst loss of lives and property in Kenya’s recent past. True, the people involved must be held accountable for whatever they did or did not do. However, doesn’t taking the case to The Hague a clear sign that we have accepted the fact that we cannot, under any circumstances, solve our own problems?The idea of the tribunal must not be condemned unto the gates of Hades (not Hague). We, as a country have prayed time and again for an opportunity to redeem ourselves. This tribunal comes at a time when we have several cases to learn from. We can now choose what is beneficial and at the same time learn from our past mistakes. By allowing us to balance the people appointed to hear the case, we show that we can solve our problems and at the same time are welcome to any form of assistance that we may require. Solving our problems in a far off country is not solving them but pushing them far enough until they reach a place where we won’t be able to see any mediocrity being shown.This is the change we have been crying for. It is time that we learn, like developed countries, that any situation is a chance to learn and move forward. It’s about time we stopped depending on others to solve our problems, and at the same time we cannot fully trust our leaders. The only thing we can do is put our heads together and come up with solutions that are beneficial to us all. Not until the people from the Hague come for our help, we should not be so quick to run to them for it. So, to Hague or not to Hague, I’ll have the latter with everything on top.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Third World Relationships
Until recently, I thought relationships were all about love and understanding. Love and understanding, two words that seem to make everything else make sense. If I love you, then I understand you. If it were that simple then I think our politicians would listen to the people more. My simple mind allows me to assume that if I run for leadership over a certain post, then that means I have some level of love for the people I intend to show the way or at least understand their situation well enough to want to do whatever I can for them. Look at it this way, I treat my woman wrongly, then she will leave me or at least kick me out of the house regardless of whose name the title deed bares. Why the do I continue to live with this person who keeps on disappointing me, treating me like a stranger when I, in fact, put him where he is and made him who he is?
The average politician today is a true reflection of an adulterous, lying, greedy and self-centered man who would rather see his family starve (or burn) to death, than spend more time with them. The politician today wakes up every morning, goes to the bathroom, prepares for the day, goes to the kitchen, takes all the food he can get, prepares a hearty meal for himself, leaving almost nothing left for the family and goes off to work. The money he gets there he puts in an off shore account somewhere, yet his family lives in a palatial villa that looks beautiful from the outside but once you come inside, its occupants are dressed in tatters, emaciated and longing for anything that would make them live like the man of the house.
Another thing with this type of relationship is that the wife here has no say at all. Whatever means she has to air her views is thwarted by ridiculous laws the politician throws while at the dinner table, eating form his wife and children’s plate. Communication, an integral part of any relationship still exists in this family. The politician frequently calls his friends from work for the family meetings wrapped in silly names such as: The Family We Want or Family Fusion 2030. He allows the family members to speak their mind but does not allow himself to let the information sink in his mind. God forbid the children throw tantrums in the house; the whip made of an old gas pipe makes them produce tears that will be a grim reminder that he is the boss.
This relationship like any other has its ups and downs. Sometimes the family gets tired of the politician and asks for a divorce. At times however, the relationship may have stressed the family for many years, up to 24, leaving the wife no choice other than kicking the politician out of the house. The wife gets the next best man, the man who will give her the impression that things will be much better next time through sweet words and endless gifts. Once the wife accepts him, the family lives in a honey-moon state for a few months until reality hits them that this man, like any other politician is cut out of the same cloth. The memory of past relationships in this particular relationship is not as painful as the reality that over 70% of other families in the estate are treated much better than you. Other families in the leafy parts of the estate have better looking houses, bigger families and happier relationships than the one in picture. At least the woman drives a car almost as big as the one her man is driving. In this relationship, walking alone is a blessing. Sometimes neighbors make fun and call this family the Walking Family.
In this relationship, equality is a myth. The man and the woman’s lifestyles are so far apart that one would imagine Uncle Scrooge visiting a widow and her children. If I know anything about relationships is that they should not be miserable situations dictated by one party. Relationships are founded on love and understanding, ore-requisites for sacrifice and compromise. In this case, mister politician has no time to listen and understand his people. The sad thing is that this woman keeps on taking him back, or ends up choosing a politician that at the end of the day will prove to be the most useless man ever. I choose to pick my relationships wisely. Especially in 2012 when spouse will be hanging around wooing me with wise words and promises. There is nothing uninteresting about being single. This relationship shows me that it’s better a house run by children than a useless man.
The average politician today is a true reflection of an adulterous, lying, greedy and self-centered man who would rather see his family starve (or burn) to death, than spend more time with them. The politician today wakes up every morning, goes to the bathroom, prepares for the day, goes to the kitchen, takes all the food he can get, prepares a hearty meal for himself, leaving almost nothing left for the family and goes off to work. The money he gets there he puts in an off shore account somewhere, yet his family lives in a palatial villa that looks beautiful from the outside but once you come inside, its occupants are dressed in tatters, emaciated and longing for anything that would make them live like the man of the house.
Another thing with this type of relationship is that the wife here has no say at all. Whatever means she has to air her views is thwarted by ridiculous laws the politician throws while at the dinner table, eating form his wife and children’s plate. Communication, an integral part of any relationship still exists in this family. The politician frequently calls his friends from work for the family meetings wrapped in silly names such as: The Family We Want or Family Fusion 2030. He allows the family members to speak their mind but does not allow himself to let the information sink in his mind. God forbid the children throw tantrums in the house; the whip made of an old gas pipe makes them produce tears that will be a grim reminder that he is the boss.
This relationship like any other has its ups and downs. Sometimes the family gets tired of the politician and asks for a divorce. At times however, the relationship may have stressed the family for many years, up to 24, leaving the wife no choice other than kicking the politician out of the house. The wife gets the next best man, the man who will give her the impression that things will be much better next time through sweet words and endless gifts. Once the wife accepts him, the family lives in a honey-moon state for a few months until reality hits them that this man, like any other politician is cut out of the same cloth. The memory of past relationships in this particular relationship is not as painful as the reality that over 70% of other families in the estate are treated much better than you. Other families in the leafy parts of the estate have better looking houses, bigger families and happier relationships than the one in picture. At least the woman drives a car almost as big as the one her man is driving. In this relationship, walking alone is a blessing. Sometimes neighbors make fun and call this family the Walking Family.
In this relationship, equality is a myth. The man and the woman’s lifestyles are so far apart that one would imagine Uncle Scrooge visiting a widow and her children. If I know anything about relationships is that they should not be miserable situations dictated by one party. Relationships are founded on love and understanding, ore-requisites for sacrifice and compromise. In this case, mister politician has no time to listen and understand his people. The sad thing is that this woman keeps on taking him back, or ends up choosing a politician that at the end of the day will prove to be the most useless man ever. I choose to pick my relationships wisely. Especially in 2012 when spouse will be hanging around wooing me with wise words and promises. There is nothing uninteresting about being single. This relationship shows me that it’s better a house run by children than a useless man.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Memories and Resolutions
A number of things come across my mind as I try to recollect the happenings of a year that has seen a country and a people go through so much in such a short period of time. The year 2008 has not been easy for anyone. Not the average Kenyan trying to build the community after a plague of violence sent us all to hell and back, even the politician trying so hard to escape the boss’s (people) cold glare after being elected into office to do the same thing they have done since independence, sit and eat…and a new one for 2008, not pay taxes and be proud of it!
“Hii serekali ya muungano inanyanyasa watu tu, hakuna kazi wanafanya!” (This coalition government is only oppressing the people; it is not doing any (constructive) work!) These are words said by an irate citizen after the vehicle they were travelling in was pulled over by traffic police, leaving the passengers stranded along the Nairobi-Naivasha highway.
An old adage: ‘I heard the old men say all that is beautiful flows away like water’. Another one: ‘History is a nightmare from which I try to awake.’ History gives us a window into the past, a crystal ball through which we vet our experiences and pick those that will benefit us. Our history is in all truth a clouded one. Politically, economically, socially; from which we get the ugly subset that is tribalism, religiously and internationally. Our politics are the same as the colonialists left. The independence we got was like giving candy to a child to earn his trust and use him to run your agenda. We show no monumental growth politically and this shows in our economy. We all threw our hats up after president Kibaki won the elections in 2002, showing a glimmer of hope in our political growth and in turn our economy grew showing our currency battling for recognition against other leading currencies. A few months later and our currency was where we grew accustomed to seeing it…in a land called mediocre.
We cannot blame the people for having a poor economy, not unless Kenya was the land of Neverland where people just sit and make merry, then again doesn’t that sound like the land our politicians make of our parliament? Our political shortcomings reflect our society’s perceptions of itself and thus if our politics are dictated by tribal plays to see which tribe reaches the top, then 2008 is a clear show of what happens to a country with shoddy politics.
What Kenya is experiencing, or experienced is a case of collapsing dominoes where the first tile collapsed and the ripple effect was felt to the lowest tile in the chain. The one thing that showed the true face of the 2007-08 election violence suffers being silenced by the main cause of the violence. The voice of the people faces regulations that would reduce it to a muffled cry. With the media bill and other similar restrictions, the people are further held by the throat, a similar case to tyrant ruled governments that would rather their people suffer than their have their ridiculous policies be questioned by institutions that seem to be the people’s only saving grace.
Our capital city, Nairobi, was at one time the beautiful green city in the sun, and then it became the repulsive brown city in the sun. I must admit the city is back to its green glory but its people still exhibit it brown murk by how they go about with their day to day activities. Corruption, scandals and ignorant bunter shows even to the international sector how our people think. The problem is so that the common con in River Road can thrive, he must have some role models somewhere at the top and at the same time people at an administrative level who make it possible for such people to thrive. Our country and many other countries just like fish, rot from the head up affirming what the wise old men said, “all that is beautiful flows away like water.”
This new year, 2009, gives us the opportunity to harness our potential and capture all that is beautiful and of value in our country, such as our cultural differences as well as our political differences which offer a bigger basket of ideas that would take us where we need to be. We, as a people, have the power to be the change we want and just like fish, we can save ourselves a meal by cutting off the rotten part that would otherwise destroy a wonderful experience. This is the year of real change; we have seen others do it, passing the bounds of race and ignorant stereotyping and being an example even to the government itself. By being the bigger person, we show how small a man can be to utter such a thing as, “if you are feeling sufficiently philanthropic then you are at liberty to pay taxes”.
“Hii serekali ya muungano inanyanyasa watu tu, hakuna kazi wanafanya!” (This coalition government is only oppressing the people; it is not doing any (constructive) work!) These are words said by an irate citizen after the vehicle they were travelling in was pulled over by traffic police, leaving the passengers stranded along the Nairobi-Naivasha highway.
An old adage: ‘I heard the old men say all that is beautiful flows away like water’. Another one: ‘History is a nightmare from which I try to awake.’ History gives us a window into the past, a crystal ball through which we vet our experiences and pick those that will benefit us. Our history is in all truth a clouded one. Politically, economically, socially; from which we get the ugly subset that is tribalism, religiously and internationally. Our politics are the same as the colonialists left. The independence we got was like giving candy to a child to earn his trust and use him to run your agenda. We show no monumental growth politically and this shows in our economy. We all threw our hats up after president Kibaki won the elections in 2002, showing a glimmer of hope in our political growth and in turn our economy grew showing our currency battling for recognition against other leading currencies. A few months later and our currency was where we grew accustomed to seeing it…in a land called mediocre.
We cannot blame the people for having a poor economy, not unless Kenya was the land of Neverland where people just sit and make merry, then again doesn’t that sound like the land our politicians make of our parliament? Our political shortcomings reflect our society’s perceptions of itself and thus if our politics are dictated by tribal plays to see which tribe reaches the top, then 2008 is a clear show of what happens to a country with shoddy politics.
What Kenya is experiencing, or experienced is a case of collapsing dominoes where the first tile collapsed and the ripple effect was felt to the lowest tile in the chain. The one thing that showed the true face of the 2007-08 election violence suffers being silenced by the main cause of the violence. The voice of the people faces regulations that would reduce it to a muffled cry. With the media bill and other similar restrictions, the people are further held by the throat, a similar case to tyrant ruled governments that would rather their people suffer than their have their ridiculous policies be questioned by institutions that seem to be the people’s only saving grace.
Our capital city, Nairobi, was at one time the beautiful green city in the sun, and then it became the repulsive brown city in the sun. I must admit the city is back to its green glory but its people still exhibit it brown murk by how they go about with their day to day activities. Corruption, scandals and ignorant bunter shows even to the international sector how our people think. The problem is so that the common con in River Road can thrive, he must have some role models somewhere at the top and at the same time people at an administrative level who make it possible for such people to thrive. Our country and many other countries just like fish, rot from the head up affirming what the wise old men said, “all that is beautiful flows away like water.”
This new year, 2009, gives us the opportunity to harness our potential and capture all that is beautiful and of value in our country, such as our cultural differences as well as our political differences which offer a bigger basket of ideas that would take us where we need to be. We, as a people, have the power to be the change we want and just like fish, we can save ourselves a meal by cutting off the rotten part that would otherwise destroy a wonderful experience. This is the year of real change; we have seen others do it, passing the bounds of race and ignorant stereotyping and being an example even to the government itself. By being the bigger person, we show how small a man can be to utter such a thing as, “if you are feeling sufficiently philanthropic then you are at liberty to pay taxes”.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Tribalism Versus Kenyanism
“So with your experience with Rwandan literature and your being conversant with what happened to the country in 1994, do you think what happened to us earlier this year is over?” “No, not at all.”
This is a conversation between me and my African Literature lecturer in a discussion on tribalism and its effects on Africa, and particularly Kenya. Having been the major cause of the post election clashes, tribalism has for years been in our political, social and cultural framework, that at some level, and in bad taste, is being used to defend our folly as a Kenyan people.
The Making of a Nation is a documentary by Hillary Ng’weno, a Kenyan Professor, who gives a glimpse of how Kenya rose from the colonial ashes into a free republic, run by a government of the people by the people and for the people. Though noble in its intentions, the documentary inadvertently brings about the issue of tribalism in a way that depicts the vice as part and parcel of our very make up as Kenyans. Almost all actions that were of significance to our nation’s development were as a result of ethnicity and the need to identify oneself as a member of one ethnic community.
The differences in our tongue and geographic location should add to the cultural diversity that brings about the splendor of our country, but instead they will be our undoing. On a trip to the US, my lecturer was dumbfounded when out of a random conversation a cab driver asked her, “So you are from Kenya, which tribe are you?” of all the countries in Africa, only Kenya has a tribal reputation. A show of our cultural recognition you may say? I call it a tribal time bomb waiting to explode.
In Tanzania, friends stay for years without knowing each others’ ethnicity. In Uganda, never will you hear the question, “what tribe are you?” but in our beloved country, God forbid I take home a girl from another community. We do not have an identity as Kenyans; we do not have a plan to move away from the path set by our fathers, the path that leads to a great sense of loss, and the path that will definitely lead us to a place where no one of us wants to go.
In 1994, millions of Rwandese citizens and the world thought that the violence taking place was just a repetition of the violence that had been going on between the two dominating communities over the years. Ever since the Belgians showed favor to the Tutsis (because of their number, they were fewer than the majority Hutus), to the time the Belgians left the country to be led by its citizens (Hutus, since the Tutsis were now asking for independence during the wave of change in African states), both tribes had been clashing, killing each other and destroying property. No one expected the genocide of 1994. If I may take a bold step and compare the two countries, what the skirmishes that wreaked havoc late December 2007 through January 2008 is only a drop in the bloody ocean that was the 1994 Rwandan genocide. The previous skirmishes that Rwanda experienced were eerily similar to what we experienced; a grim premonition of where we might end up ceteris peribus (all factors remaining constant).
Kenyans are yet to find an identity as Kenyans without referring to our cultural backdrop. The problem is not that western culture has led to the degradation of our culture leading to a loss of identity, but the lack of realization, akin to ignorance, that makes us fail in accepting the fact that saving our already wasting culture does not include the ethically based nights and parties that we see, but upholding our values as a Kenyan people, regardless of what we wear, eat, drink or speak. I am not being African by dressing up in beads and open leather sandals or eating a certain type of food. We better lose this ignorant way of thinking and realize that if I do not love my neighbor or if I do not respect family, or uphold the values that allow me to coexist with my neighbor regardless of skin color or ethnic setting, then in no way am I African. If I cannot walk through the streets of Nairobi without someone wondering which tribe I am from by my simple mannerisms then we are not close to achieving an identity as Kenyans. Being Kenyan involves upholding values, knowing that inasmuch as western influence plagues us, it is just a part of change. In no way are we expected to still dress in skin cloths and speak in a restricting tongue that only allows communication between certain people. However, we are expected to uphold community life, and enable peaceful coexistence as one people. This way, we will have achieved an identity as a Kenyan people, an identity that enhances the spirit of our national motto: Peace, Love and Unity.
We need to break free from the shackles that bind us to our tribal identities. We need to realize that we are better than a country known for its ethnic divisions. The last country that was regarded for its tribal bounds saw one of the greatest losses in lives a country has ever seen in a non-war situation.
We have what we need, we have who we need. We have our intellect and values and we have us a people tired of killing each other and blaming it on cultural clashes, a people bent on eliminating ignorance and standing out to prove the world wrong. We are Kenya, yes we can.
This is a conversation between me and my African Literature lecturer in a discussion on tribalism and its effects on Africa, and particularly Kenya. Having been the major cause of the post election clashes, tribalism has for years been in our political, social and cultural framework, that at some level, and in bad taste, is being used to defend our folly as a Kenyan people.
The Making of a Nation is a documentary by Hillary Ng’weno, a Kenyan Professor, who gives a glimpse of how Kenya rose from the colonial ashes into a free republic, run by a government of the people by the people and for the people. Though noble in its intentions, the documentary inadvertently brings about the issue of tribalism in a way that depicts the vice as part and parcel of our very make up as Kenyans. Almost all actions that were of significance to our nation’s development were as a result of ethnicity and the need to identify oneself as a member of one ethnic community.
The differences in our tongue and geographic location should add to the cultural diversity that brings about the splendor of our country, but instead they will be our undoing. On a trip to the US, my lecturer was dumbfounded when out of a random conversation a cab driver asked her, “So you are from Kenya, which tribe are you?” of all the countries in Africa, only Kenya has a tribal reputation. A show of our cultural recognition you may say? I call it a tribal time bomb waiting to explode.
In Tanzania, friends stay for years without knowing each others’ ethnicity. In Uganda, never will you hear the question, “what tribe are you?” but in our beloved country, God forbid I take home a girl from another community. We do not have an identity as Kenyans; we do not have a plan to move away from the path set by our fathers, the path that leads to a great sense of loss, and the path that will definitely lead us to a place where no one of us wants to go.
In 1994, millions of Rwandese citizens and the world thought that the violence taking place was just a repetition of the violence that had been going on between the two dominating communities over the years. Ever since the Belgians showed favor to the Tutsis (because of their number, they were fewer than the majority Hutus), to the time the Belgians left the country to be led by its citizens (Hutus, since the Tutsis were now asking for independence during the wave of change in African states), both tribes had been clashing, killing each other and destroying property. No one expected the genocide of 1994. If I may take a bold step and compare the two countries, what the skirmishes that wreaked havoc late December 2007 through January 2008 is only a drop in the bloody ocean that was the 1994 Rwandan genocide. The previous skirmishes that Rwanda experienced were eerily similar to what we experienced; a grim premonition of where we might end up ceteris peribus (all factors remaining constant).
Kenyans are yet to find an identity as Kenyans without referring to our cultural backdrop. The problem is not that western culture has led to the degradation of our culture leading to a loss of identity, but the lack of realization, akin to ignorance, that makes us fail in accepting the fact that saving our already wasting culture does not include the ethically based nights and parties that we see, but upholding our values as a Kenyan people, regardless of what we wear, eat, drink or speak. I am not being African by dressing up in beads and open leather sandals or eating a certain type of food. We better lose this ignorant way of thinking and realize that if I do not love my neighbor or if I do not respect family, or uphold the values that allow me to coexist with my neighbor regardless of skin color or ethnic setting, then in no way am I African. If I cannot walk through the streets of Nairobi without someone wondering which tribe I am from by my simple mannerisms then we are not close to achieving an identity as Kenyans. Being Kenyan involves upholding values, knowing that inasmuch as western influence plagues us, it is just a part of change. In no way are we expected to still dress in skin cloths and speak in a restricting tongue that only allows communication between certain people. However, we are expected to uphold community life, and enable peaceful coexistence as one people. This way, we will have achieved an identity as a Kenyan people, an identity that enhances the spirit of our national motto: Peace, Love and Unity.
We need to break free from the shackles that bind us to our tribal identities. We need to realize that we are better than a country known for its ethnic divisions. The last country that was regarded for its tribal bounds saw one of the greatest losses in lives a country has ever seen in a non-war situation.
We have what we need, we have who we need. We have our intellect and values and we have us a people tired of killing each other and blaming it on cultural clashes, a people bent on eliminating ignorance and standing out to prove the world wrong. We are Kenya, yes we can.
Friday, October 31, 2008
KENYA’S CULTURAL REVOLUTION
“Unless there is expression, there will be no progress”. These words were said by a local writer, Kingwa Kamencu, whose book To Grasp at a Star won the 2003 National Book Development Council of Kenya (NCDCK) literary award. Miss Kamencu was speaking as a guest lecturer in my African literature class and I couldn’t stop wondering, how many people particularly university students know this author or her books?
The African reading culture is haunted by stereotypes and bad jokes, one of them being: If you want to hide something from an African, hide it in a book. The problem is the people who come up with such foolish sayings have a good defense as to why they say such things. It is true that the improvement of education (let’s call it improvement) in Africa by initiatives such as free primary education and compulsory education for a certain age-group has led to the increase in literacy. More people are reading books, but what books are being read? It is clear that most Kenyans read some books strictly for examination purposes, after which they either drop books completely or cover themselves in western forms of literature which in my opinion have nothing wrong, except if we call killing our very own literature and replacing it with an alien one right.
Literature has been through out centuries and was the only way of passing information and storing a people’s story. Our African culture had a different way of passing on information and this is oral literature. However the coming of western culture meant that some of our best literature gurus would learn to read and write; and so we had the likes of Okot p’Bitek, Rubadiri, Pio Zirimu and his wife Elevania, Odida, who headed the Heartbeat of Africa Dance troupe, Ngugi wa Thiong’o, among others, who p’Bitek refers to as cultural revolutionists in his book Africa’s Cultural Revolution.
The Kenyan literary scene is growing everyday with the number of publishing houses increasing. This does not mean however, that bookshops are stocking our writers’ books. The few being shelved are those published by well known publishing houses such as Kwani? The problem with this is that literature tends to speak to a certain group of people, as opposed to everyone as it should. A certain elite group is coming up which holds book readings and recitals in posh restaurants and hotels, yet they call themselves African writers who are supposed to cater for the African people. You cannot solve Africa’s issues in a hotel conference room, or politicians tried and failed. One of the main reasons why Kwani? books are read is that they carry a certain identity for the reader. Half of the people who own these books do not read them and half of the people who need them do not get them.
We need a new breed of cultural revolutionist who will pick up from where Okot left from and take literature to where it is supposed to be. Hold cultural festivals, write real books with real stories, and by real I mean relevant to us as Africans and more so as Kenyans. We need to encourage our children to become writers and not chase impossible dreams that leave the lost in disillusionment. “I want to be a writer” should be a sentence children will say comfortably without rebuke from an unrealistic and overambitious society.
Kenyan Universities should embrace their literature departments if they intend to change the face of Kenyan literature. We have seen what those who graduate from universities do for the local media; why not for the literature scene? We have poets, short story writers, novelists, dancers, musicians, artists, story tellers and literature students who just appreciate it. Why not come up with events that include all these forms of literature and use them to change the world from even a Christian’s perspective? We have a lot to solve the problems we see.
Literature must be freed from the bounds of examination. We should not only embrace books for the sake of passing examinations but for the sake of appreciation and growing as a people out of increased literacy and social awareness. We communicate more if we all understand each other through expression. Let students dance, let students sing if at all it will improve their appreciation of literature. We have a responsibility as people, as students, as Africans and as Kenyans. We have a responsibility towards society to read and to write and out of this lead a society that is right.
The African reading culture is haunted by stereotypes and bad jokes, one of them being: If you want to hide something from an African, hide it in a book. The problem is the people who come up with such foolish sayings have a good defense as to why they say such things. It is true that the improvement of education (let’s call it improvement) in Africa by initiatives such as free primary education and compulsory education for a certain age-group has led to the increase in literacy. More people are reading books, but what books are being read? It is clear that most Kenyans read some books strictly for examination purposes, after which they either drop books completely or cover themselves in western forms of literature which in my opinion have nothing wrong, except if we call killing our very own literature and replacing it with an alien one right.
Literature has been through out centuries and was the only way of passing information and storing a people’s story. Our African culture had a different way of passing on information and this is oral literature. However the coming of western culture meant that some of our best literature gurus would learn to read and write; and so we had the likes of Okot p’Bitek, Rubadiri, Pio Zirimu and his wife Elevania, Odida, who headed the Heartbeat of Africa Dance troupe, Ngugi wa Thiong’o, among others, who p’Bitek refers to as cultural revolutionists in his book Africa’s Cultural Revolution.
The Kenyan literary scene is growing everyday with the number of publishing houses increasing. This does not mean however, that bookshops are stocking our writers’ books. The few being shelved are those published by well known publishing houses such as Kwani? The problem with this is that literature tends to speak to a certain group of people, as opposed to everyone as it should. A certain elite group is coming up which holds book readings and recitals in posh restaurants and hotels, yet they call themselves African writers who are supposed to cater for the African people. You cannot solve Africa’s issues in a hotel conference room, or politicians tried and failed. One of the main reasons why Kwani? books are read is that they carry a certain identity for the reader. Half of the people who own these books do not read them and half of the people who need them do not get them.
We need a new breed of cultural revolutionist who will pick up from where Okot left from and take literature to where it is supposed to be. Hold cultural festivals, write real books with real stories, and by real I mean relevant to us as Africans and more so as Kenyans. We need to encourage our children to become writers and not chase impossible dreams that leave the lost in disillusionment. “I want to be a writer” should be a sentence children will say comfortably without rebuke from an unrealistic and overambitious society.
Kenyan Universities should embrace their literature departments if they intend to change the face of Kenyan literature. We have seen what those who graduate from universities do for the local media; why not for the literature scene? We have poets, short story writers, novelists, dancers, musicians, artists, story tellers and literature students who just appreciate it. Why not come up with events that include all these forms of literature and use them to change the world from even a Christian’s perspective? We have a lot to solve the problems we see.
Literature must be freed from the bounds of examination. We should not only embrace books for the sake of passing examinations but for the sake of appreciation and growing as a people out of increased literacy and social awareness. We communicate more if we all understand each other through expression. Let students dance, let students sing if at all it will improve their appreciation of literature. We have a responsibility as people, as students, as Africans and as Kenyans. We have a responsibility towards society to read and to write and out of this lead a society that is right.
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