Latest news with #Kikuyu
Irish Times
09-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Irish Times
Guth eile fós
Sa bhliain 2010 bhí an gnáthshioscadh agus cabaireacht ar siúl i measc an aosa litríochta maidir le cé a bhainfeadh Duais Nobel na Litríochta. Is fíor go bhfuil an duais áirithe sin ar an duais is lú meas de na duaiseanna Nobel ar fad seachas Duais Nobel na Síochána a n-áirítear buamadóirí breátha ar nós Henry Kissinger agus Barack Obama ar a bhfuaid. Bíodh gurbh é Mario Vargas Llosa breith an choiste rúnda a shocraíonn na nithe seo an bhliain sin, bhí plód d'iriseoirí agus de lucht faisin na nuachta ag feitheamh go mífhoighneach lasmuigh de theach Ngugi Wa Thiong'o, an scríbhneoir as oirthear na hAfraice arbh é rogha na ngeallghlacadóirí é ag an am, agus go ceann suim bhlianta ina dhiaidh sin. Is é is dóichí nárbh é an lipéad 'scríbhneoir ó oirthear na hAfraice' ná 'scríbhneoir Céineach' ab fhearr leis, ach scríbhneoir Kikuyu (mar a litrítear anois í). Óir, cé gur thosnaigh sé ag scríobh i mBéárla faoin ainm James Ngugi, dhiúltaigh sé dá ainm is dá theanga chéadfhoilsithe is gur chrom feasta a shaothar a scríobh ina theanga dhúchais, is í sin, sa Kikuyuís, teanga na Mau Mau. Ní móide go mbeadh aon bhreith aige ar dhuais Nobel na litríochta murach gur aistrigh sé agus gur aistríodh a chuid úrscéalta agus a chuid machnaimh go Béarla ina dhiaidh sin. Instear eachtra air nuair a bhí úrscéal aistrithe dá chuid i mBéarla á chur i láthair an phobail aige. Ní heol dom go baileach cén ceann é ach ceapaim gurb é Wizard of the Crow a bhí ann. READ MORE Fiafraíodh de ón urlár aníos cad ina thaobh nár scríobh sé sa Bhéarla sa chéad áit é. Thóg sé an t-aistriúchán Béarla ina ghlac agus dúirt sé 'Dá mbeadh an leabhar seo ann ar dtús, ní bheadh an leabhar seo (an bunleabhar Kikuyuíse) ann in aon chor.' Is é a dhála sin ag aon teanga eile é nach bhfuil istigh sa chlub, sa chumann, sa bhunaíocht uilechoiteann. Ní bhaineann cumhacht an domhain ar fad le réimeas míleata, le saighdiúirí ar an talamh, le buamaí á leagadh anuas, le ciníocha a bheith á ndíothú cé go bhfuil siad go dlúth agus i bhfogas dá chéile. Ní luafaí Ngugi wa Thiong'o in aon chor ná ar chor ar bith maidir leis an duais Nobel litríochta murach go raibh a shaothar foilsithe i dteanga fhorleathan dhomhanda; ní chloisfí giob ná gíocs faoi dá mba sa Khikuyís a bhreac sé gach rud riamh anall. Ní cúrsaí iontais é gurb é an Béarla an teanga is mó a shaothraigh daoine a bhain an duais amhrastúil seo, agus ina dhiaidh aniar, an Fhraincis, an Ghearmáinis, an Spáinnis, an Rúisis, teangacha mórchoncais agus díothú pobail iad go léir, ait le rá. Ait le rá chomh maith nár bronnadh duais mhór Oireachtais litríochta an domhain ach ar lucht cleite teangacha neamhEorpacha naoi n-uaire as 121 duais ar fad. Uair amháin don Araibis (491m cainteoirí), uair amháin don Bhengáilis (283m cainteoirí, ce gur scríobh Rabindrinath Tagore sa Bhéarla chomh maith), uair amháin sna teangacha Turcacha (200m cainteoirí, agus dhá thuras don teanga is mó cainteoirí ar domhan, an tSínis. Chuige seo, go bhfuair Ngugi wa Thiong'o bás an tseachtain cheana, ceithre scór agus ocht mbliana d'aois, duine de scríbhneoirí móra an domhain nach bhfuil aon insint mhór air toisc nach raibh sé cráite faoin existentialisme, ná faoi choinsias na buirgéiseachta, ná faoi óige lofa, faoi bhriseadh croí um leannán a thréig, faoi mhian bheag phearsanta nár comhlíonadh, faoi chiarsúr nár iarnáladh, nó faoi bhriosca a d'ith nó nár ith sé, ach gur scríobh sé go pearsanta paiseanta faoi éagóir na cumhachta. Ba leor sin le nach n-éistfí leis.
The Hindu
03-06-2025
- Entertainment
- The Hindu
The Hindu On Books newsletter: The legacy of Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o, Gandhi's last months, the world of translation and more
Welcome to this edition of The Hindu on Books Newsletter. Kenyan author Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o, considered one of east Africa's greatest literary figures, died last Wednesday (May 28, 2025), his daughter announced on Facebook. He was 87. Wanjiku wa Ngũgĩ said her father had 'lived a full life and fought a good fight.' His decision to stop writing in English and start using only his native Kikuyu made him a powerful symbol of post-colonial African identity. In 1986, he published one of his best-known works, Decolonising the Mind, a collection of essays about the role of language in forging national culture, history and identity. Read this tribute by Gautam Bhatia, in which he writes that the Kenyan master has left behind a rich, varied, and sometimes complex legacy. In an interview to The Hindu in 2018 when he visited Hyderabad for the launch of the Telugu translation by G.N. Saibaba of his book, Dreams in a Time of War, Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o explained to Serish Nanisetti that he began writing in English and then switched over to his native language, Gikuyu and Swahili, as a mark of protest against the language of the colonisers. Asked about his thoughts on translation and particularly G.N. Saibaba translating his work, he said, the one by Saibaba (titled Yuddakalamlo Swapnalu — Balya Gnapakaalu ) is especially interesting, because he translated the book while he was in prison. 'I closely identify with him because of this. I had written Devil on the Cross in Kamiti Maximum Security Prison in Kenya,' he said. Last Saturday (May 31), noted wildlife and tiger conservationist, Valmik Thapar, passed away in Delhi. He was 73 and ailing from cancer. Thapar was well-known for his evocative photographs and scholarly ouevré of nearly 50 books on the tiger, particularly those in Ranthambore, Rajasthan, for nearly four decades. He wrote or edited more than 30 books on wildlife, including Land of the Tiger: A Natural History of the Indian Subcontinent (1997), and Tiger Fire: 500 Years of the Tiger in India. In reviews, we read Manash Firaq Bhattacharjee's new book on Gandhi, General Shrinagesh's memoir and talk to translators of three recent anthologies on challenges and technique. Books of the week Gandhi: The End of Nonviolence (Penguin) by Manash Firaq Bhattacharjee is an account of Gandhi's final 15 months, his presence in riot-hit Noakhali, Bihar, Calcutta and Delhi pre and post Independence, offering courage and healing wounds, and its impact on India. 'Gandhi walked, listened, observed, and spoke in Noakhali and in Bihar because people had been killed and raped, Hindus in Noakhali and Muslims in Bihar,' writes Rajmohan Gandhi in his review. Quoting Bhattacharjee, he says, 'with Gandhi, walking becomes a force in India's political history,' and that it is not an exaggeration to say that 'Gandhi's peace mission in Noakhali, Bihar and Calcutta has no parallel in the history of the violent twentieth century.' In chronicling Gandhi's last phase, Bhattacharjee also refers to the diaries of Mridula or Manu Gandhi, grandniece of Gandhi – 'The nature of her work as a peace worker and her witness account of Gandhi's life and movement [is] her most significant contribution to history.' Commanded by Destiny (Penguin Veer) is an anecdotal memoir by General S.M. Shrinagesh, the Indian Army's fourth Indian chief between 1955 and 1957. The USP of the narrative, writes Arjun Subramaniam in his review, lies in its sweeping landscape and accurate recollection of military and political events during the fledgling years of India's evolution as a nation-state. 'One of the most detailed parts of the book is reserved for his role as the Corps Commander in charge of the two divisions that saw all the action in the first India-Pakistan War of 1947-48. The narrative around the sieges of Leh and Poonch is riveting and his recollections of specific actions and operational plans are excellent.' Spotlight Banu Mushtaq and Deepa Bhasthi's International Booker Prize win for Heart Lamp, a first for Kannada, has again put the spotlight on regional languages. Meenakshi Shivram has a conversation with translators of three recent regional anthologies to understand the process and the function of translations. The Early Classic Stories Series (published by HarperCollins) is edited by Mini Krishnan. The first three collections in the series comprise stories translated from Odia (by Leelawati Mohapatra, Paul St-Pierre and K.K. Mohapatra), Malayalam (Venugopal Menon) and Kannada (Susheela Punitha) — covering a century, mostly from the 1890s onwards. 'These books share, with deep sensitivity, a flavour of our own lives as we lived then. The translators of all three collections showcase their own empathy as they perceptively mirror our past to us.' Malayalam translator Venugopal Menon says he could relate to the old value systems through his forebears. 'There was a subtle dignity and pride they thrived on despite the inevitable urge to sustain social status. Nevertheless, honour was at a premium. And they seemed to think crime is evil,' he says. Kannada translator Susheela Punitha, 87, has seen this world first-hand. 'It is the world of my grand children that seems stranger,' she quips. Odia translator K.K. Mohapatra talks of an emotional connect. 'What struck us repeatedly was the quiet dignity of many of these protagonists, the ethical depth of their struggles, and the understated but profound critique that some stories offered of their own milieu,' he says. 'There is also a tenderness in the telling, that allows us to connect, even across time.' While the Odia translators say their guiding principle is to remain as faithful as possible to the original, Punitha points out that both 'embellishing and interpreting' are sometimes required to make it intelligible to the reader. Menon, for instance, keeps 'the non-Malayali reader topmost in mind.' Browser Acclaimed mathematician, Marcus du Sautoy takes readers from stone circles to Bach to Shakespeare to explain why art and a creative mindset is crucial for discovering new mathematics. He argues how a fundamental connection to the natural world links arts and science in Blue Prints: How Mathematics Shapes Creativity (HarperCollins). (HarperCollins). The Ghadar Movement was conceived in 1913 in the U.S. by Indian immigrants, led by Lala Har Dayal and others. The group planned to smuggle arms to India and incite a mutiny in the British-Indian army. In The Ghadar Movement: A Forgotten Struggle (Penguin/Viking), Rana Preet Gill writes an account of the movement and explains why it failed. (Penguin/Viking), Rana Preet Gill writes an account of the movement and explains why it failed. Penguin has announced that Arundhati Roy's forthcoming memoir, Mother Mary Comes to Me , is open for pre-order. It will be available in bookstores in September. Roy looks back at her relationship with her mother Mary Roy, who passed away in September 2022. The grief memoir – Roy had fled from home when she was 18 -- is filled with 'moments of anger, joy, heartbreak, longing, tenderness, and deep introspection.' , is open for pre-order. It will be available in bookstores in September. Roy looks back at her relationship with her mother Mary Roy, who passed away in September 2022. The grief memoir – Roy had fled from home when she was 18 -- is filled with 'moments of anger, joy, heartbreak, longing, tenderness, and deep introspection.' Best-selling writer Taylor Jenkins Reid (Daisy Jones & The Six) is out with her new novel Atmosphere (Penguin) which is set during NASA's 1980s Space Shuttle Program and is about an unexpected romantic story that blossoms in space.
Express Tribune
29-05-2025
- General
- Express Tribune
Kenyan literary icon Ngugi wa Thiong'o dies aged 87
To pay homage to his heritage, Ngugi refused to write in English. Photo: File During his imprisonment, Kenyan author Ngugi wa Thiong'o decided he would never write in English again, a defiant move that helped put literature in African languages firmly on the map. Ngugi died at the age of 87 on Wednesday, his daughter announced on Facebook. "It is with a heavy heart that we announce the passing of our dad, Ngugi wa Thiong'o this Wednesday morning," wrote Wanjiku Wa Ngugi. "He lived a full life, fought a good fight." Widely regarded as east Africa's most influential writer, Ngugi sought to forge a body of literature reflecting the land and people from which he came, and not follow in the footsteps of Western tradition. "I believe so much in equality of languages. I am completely horrified by the hierarchy of languages," he told AFP in an interview in 2022 from California, where he lived in self-imposed exile. His decision in the 1970s to abandon English in favour of his native Kikuyu, as well as Kenya's national language Swahili, was met with widespread incomprehension at first. "We all thought he was mad... and brave at the same time," said Kenyan writer David Maillu. "We asked ourselves who would buy the books." Yet the bold choice built his reputation and turned him into an African literary landmark. The softly-spoken writer also lived a life as dramatic as his novels. His criticism of post-colonial Kenya – describing the violence of the political class and the newly rich as "the death of hopes, the death of dreams and the death of beauty" – brought him into frequent conflict with the authorities. 'Decolonising the mind' Born James Ngugi into a large peasant family in Kenya's central Limuru region on January 5, 1938, he spent the first 25 years of his life in what was then a British settler colony. His early works were heavily influenced by his country's battle against colonial rule and the brutal Mau Mau war of 1952-1960. In his first collection of essays, Homecoming, he described himself as a "stranger in his home country". But his anger would later extend to the inequalities of post-colonial Kenyan society, incurring the wrath of the government. In 1977, Ngugi and fellow writer Ngugi wa Mirii were jailed without charge after the staging of their play Ngaahika Ndeenda (I Will Marry When I Want). It was then that he decided to write his first novel in Kikuyu, Devil on the Cross, which was published in 1980. He had already abandoned his "English" name to become Ngugi wa Thiong'o. "I wrote it on the only paper available to me, which was toilet paper," he told US radio broadcaster NPR. Amnesty International named him a prisoner of conscience, before a global campaign secured his release from Kamiti Maximum Security Prison in December 1978. As early as 1965, Ngugi's novel The River Between embarked on a critical examination of the role of Christianity in an African setting. "If the white man's religion made you abandon a custom and then did not give you something else of equal value, you became lost," he wrote. He went into self-imposed exile in 1982 after a ban on theatre groups in Kenya, moving first to Britain then to the United States. When Ngugi returned home on a visit in 2004, he was mobbed by supporters at Nairobi's airport. "I have come back with an open mind, an open heart and open arms," he declared. Days later, he and his wife were attacked by armed men: she was raped and he was beaten up. It was not clear whether robbery was the sole motive or whether the assault was politically motivated. Margaretta wa Gacheru, a sociologist and former student of Ngugi, described him as a national icon. "To me he's like a Kenyan Tolstoy, in the sense of being a storyteller, in the sense of his love of the language and panoramic view of society, his description of the landscape of social relations, of class and class struggles," she said. afp
Daily Maverick
29-05-2025
- Politics
- Daily Maverick
Weep Not, Child: A tribute to Africa's literary giant, Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o.
It was incredibly humbling standing in a congested gathering of people at the Wits Great Hall to hear 'greatness' lend its wisdom to receptive ears on the topic, Decolonising the Mind: Secure the Base, in March 2017. I had the privilege of attending the address when I was in my mid-twenties. The hairs on my arms stood on end and my internal voice said unto me, 'You are in the presence of greatness. Keep quiet and listen.' I attended with my mother and my uncle, her brother, both of whom self-identify as black in the broad Biko sense. I am racially ambiguous, though sometimes perceived as white. In that particular moment at his address, aware of being in the presence of greatness that stood on the shoulders of the deceased legends Aimé Cesaire and Franz Fanon, I really had no other response but to stand in awe and listen to a hero who (at the time) was very much alive. Greatness, the man who was Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o, received standing ovations and cheering on in African languages when he spoke. I remember his anecdote about middle and upper-class parents in Kenya calling their children to greet their guests, and pretending to look embarrassed that their children spoke only English. Meanwhile, they were secretly proud of that fact, as though it was a badge of honour, showing education and their class. It gave me food for thought about globalisation and the loss of indigenous culture through the loss of languages. What does it mean? Is it really true that in the age of technology, only English will get you to succeed, or shouldn't we be promoting many languages and getting technological apps to write and speak in these languages too? He, himself, practised what he preached when he gave up English in the 1970s and started writing in Kikuyu and kiSwahili. The legacy Ngũgĩ leaves for us and generations to follow Ngũgĩ was born in colonial Kenya in 1938 and died on Wednesday, 28 May 2025 at the age of 87. His daughter, Wanjiku Wa Ngũgĩ, announced his death on social media. She wrote, 'he lived a full life, fought a good fight'. Indeed, he fought a good fight – for justice, intellectual freedom and inquisition for Africa. Both my mother and I read his (English translated) works in our respective undergraduate years in our twenties. To this day, his discourse shapes our conversations, and I hope, one day, it will shape the conversations of my own children, whom I pray will be thinkers who will also hold reverence for the greatness of Ngũgĩ's works. Ngũgĩ's work, just as that of Cesaire and Fanon, holds legacy power. He stands as a revolutionary whose pen served as a weapon of resistance against injustice and illegitimate political power, a tool for decolonisation mobilisation, and a literary genius. Ngũgĩ's work redefined the boundaries of African languages and identities as limitless. He redefined the African 'post-colony' for all that it is and all that it has the potential to be. Ngũgĩ's work echoes the cries, the resilience, and the aspirations of a continent still healing from the scars of colonisation and empire. His call was never for Africans to claim victimhood and dwell therein, but to reclaim identity by decolonising our thinking, behaviours and daily practices. Secure the base, he said. Make Africa count. Through his novels, plays, essays and prison memoirs, Ngũgĩ's work challenges imperial power, questions inherited colonial structures and reimagines liberated, self-defining Africa. It embodies a radical vision for Africa defining itself on its own terms — politically, socially and linguistically. The chronology of his intellectual journey through his works stands as a larger political project aimed at dismantling colonial legacies and reimagining African identity from the inside out. That is, an Africa defined by its own people, not the superimposed Western narratives. Ngũgĩ's literary genius His debut novel, Weep Not, Child (1964), explores the Mau Mau uprising through the eyes of a young boy. This piece was the first novel in English written by a black East African. In Decolonising the Mind (1986), he poetically posits that 'the bullet was the means of the physical subjugation. Language was the means of the spiritual subjugation' and develops this thought through his central argument that language is the carrier of culture, memory and identity. When a people lose their language, he argues, they risk losing their ability to define their own reality. In The River Between (1965), a poetic and tragic tale of cultural conflict between Christianity and traditional beliefs in a Gĩkũyũ village, he pens 'a people without a history is like the wind over buffalo grass'. Various commentaries posit that in this metaphor, the wind represents the gale-like forces of colonialism and cultural imperialism, and buffalo grass, a plant that bends and yields to external pressure, represents a people without strong roots in their own history — easily swayed, easily displaced. Here, it stands to reason that Ngũgĩ's fundamental point is that people who do not know or affirm their history are at the mercy of external forces. Here, Ngũgĩ alerts us to the dangers of not being rooted in one's identity and being absorbed by the histories handed down about Africans, written by non-Africans. Of course, what he meant was we must write our own stories, in our own languages. His body of work collectively contemplates the ways by which history is not simply a record of the past — it is the foundation of a people's present dignity and future direction. Without an understanding of where one comes from, both individually and collectively, one becomes vulnerable to manipulation, alienation and erasure, he argued. In remembering Ngũgĩ and his legacy, it compels me to want to know more about my own history; to write down the stories, recipes and memories of my grandmothers and great aunts who are still alive (coming as they all do, and I do, from a diverse cultural and racial history of three continents: India, Africa, Europe).
Times of Oman
29-05-2025
- General
- Times of Oman
Giant of African literature, Kenya's Ngugi wa Thiong'o dies aged 87
Nairobi: Kenyan writer Ngugi wa Thiong'o, considered one of the greats of African literature, passed away at the age of 87, a spokeswoman for his Nairobi publisher confirmed. Thiong'o, who died in the US state of Georgia, leaves behind a long legacy of critical works. Born in 1938 under British colonial rule, he lived in exile in Britain, before moving on to the United States. He only briefly returned to Kenya. An author and an academic, Thiong'o's works range from novels including "Weep Not, Child," to non-fiction including his much-acclaimed "Decolonising the Mind" - a collection of essays about the role of language in constructing national culture, history and identity. Thiong'o, who was tipped to win the Nobel Prize for Literature countless times, first wrote in English, before switching to his native Kikuyu, in a move that can be seen as part of his desire to decolonise culture.
