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TimesLIVE
08-06-2025
- Entertainment
- TimesLIVE
Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o: A voice of fire, a mind of freedom
In the corridors of postcolonial thought and the vast terrain of African letters, one name echoes with the clarity of resistance and the depth of conviction: Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o. To speak of Ngũgĩ is to speak not only of literature but of struggle, not only of art but of liberation. His words have long outgrown the pages they were written on. They have become weapons against forgetting, monuments to dignity and blueprints for cultural self-reclamation. Born into a Kenya ravaged by British imperialism, Ngũgĩ's life was shaped by the brutality and disorientation of colonial rule. The soil of his childhood was soaked in the blood of the Mau Mau Rebellion and the shadows of empire loomed large over every classroom, every church sermon and every official document. The colonial legacy, as he would later argue, was not only political but deeply epistemic. It had dismembered the African mind, made us strangers to our own histories, and taught us to mistrust our languages, customs, and gods. Ngũgĩ did not take this betrayal lying down. Instead, he turned his life into a mission of re-membering what had been dismembered. His early novels, including The River Between, A Grain of Wheat, and Petals of Blood, captured with devastating beauty the psychic toll of colonialism and the ambiguities of independence. These works did not flatter, they interrogated. They held both the coloniser and the complicit postcolonial elites to account. Through them, Ngũgĩ laid bare the reality that political freedom without cultural sovereignty is no freedom at all. His resistance was not merely theoretical. It crystallised in acts of profound courage. One of the most emblematic of these was his collaboration with Ngũgĩ wa Mĩriĩ on the searing play I Will Marry When I Want. This was art not written for the academy or for foreign publishers, but for peasants and workers. It was performed in Gikuyu, staged in villages, and filled with the raw anger of the dispossessed. The play dissected class exploitation, cultural alienation and religious hypocrisy. It exposed the spiritual residue of empire that lingered long after flags changed hands. The state responded with repression. Ngũgĩ was arrested and imprisoned without trial. He witnessed the machinery of authoritarianism turn its sights on artists and thinkers. Yet, even in a maximum-security prison, he wrote. He used toilet paper, working in secret. For Ngũgĩ, the pen has always been more than a tool. It is a flame. And fire, once lit, cannot be imprisoned. He emerged from prison not broken but more radicalised. He rejected English as his language of literary expression and deliberately embraced Gikuyu. This was not merely a linguistic shift; it was an intellectual revolution. By choosing to write in his mother tongue, Ngũgĩ defied the colonial assumption that knowledge must pass through Western filters to be legitimate. He insisted that African stories, philosophies, and epistemologies were complete in themselves and must be told in the languages of their birth. The exploitation of African labour continues under new names. The erasure of African languages continues in global curricula. The theft of African futures is repackaged as foreign direct investment and foreign aid In doing so, Ngũgĩ offered a profound lesson to all of us. The true struggle is not only political but also cognitive. The colonisation of the mind is perhaps the most enduring of empires. It is only through cultural self-knowledge that we begin to dismantle it. He became a fierce advocate for the decolonisation of education, challenging African institutions to stop reproducing the logic of empire and to begin producing knowledge grounded in African realities, cosmologies and aspirations. He called on Africa to shape its own future. His work remains painfully relevant. In the face of contemporary struggles such as neocolonial economic dependency, cultural commodification, migration crises and state repression, Ngũgĩ's voice reminds us that these are not isolated events. They are echoes of a past never fully confronted. The exploitation of African labour continues under new names. The erasure of African languages continues in global curricula. The theft of African futures is repackaged as foreign direct investment and foreign aid. He stood with Africans who demanded the nationalisation of the banks, the gold mines and the land. These were people who sought to strike a fatal blow at the financial and gold-mining monopolies, and at the farming interests that have, for centuries, plundered the continent and condemned its people to servitude. Such a step is not only necessary but also imperative. The realisation of the continent's goals is inconceivable, indeed impossible, unless and until these monopolies are dismantled and the wealth of the continent is returned to its people. The democratisation and breaking up of these monopolies will open new fields for the development of a prosperous non-European bourgeois class. For the first time in the continent's history, this class will have the opportunity to own, in its own name and right, mines and factories. Trade and private enterprise will grow and flourish as never before. His life and work teach us the following truth: to be African is not a passive identity but an active resistance. We must speak our truth in our own tongues. We must love ourselves deeply enough to fight for our histories, our knowledge systems, and our collective future And yet, Ngũgĩ does not leave us in despair. He is, at his core, a writer of hope. His belief in the power of ordinary people to resist, to imagine, and to transform is unshakeable. He believes in the strength of solidarity among workers and intellectuals, women and men, Africans and diasporic communities. He believes, deeply, in the power of the word to awaken, to mobilise and to heal. His life and work teach us the following truth: to be African is not a passive identity but an active resistance. We must speak our truth in our own tongues. We must love ourselves deeply enough to fight for our histories, our knowledge systems, and our collective future. Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o is not simply a writer. He is a compass. He is a map-maker for generations seeking direction in a postcolonial maze. He is a sower of intellectual seeds that bloom in classrooms, prisons, fields and stages across the continent. We honour him not just for what he has written, but for what he has ignited: the right to be fully African, unapologetically human, and radically free. We will forever salute Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o, a pan-Africanist of note. Your pen is not only mighty; it is immortal. Andile Lungisa is an ANC national executive committee member and former president of the Pan African Youth Union.
The Hindu
02-06-2025
- General
- The Hindu
A life of defiance: the celebrated Kenyan author's views were not without controversy but he inspired generations of African writers
In 1962, a group of young men and women met at Makerere University in Kampala, Uganda, at the Conference of African Writers of English Expression. Decolonisation was in the air. Nigeria — represented by Chinua Achebe and Wole Soyinka — had gained independence two years earlier. Uganda — the host country — would become independent just a few months later. And Kenya — represented, among others, by Rebecca Njau and one James Ngugi — was one year away from its own transfer of power. The debates at Makerere included, among other things, the question of what constituted African literature, and whether literature in non-African languages (including English) could ever be truly African. The controversy exerted a formative influence over the youthful James Ngugi, who'd used the occasion of the conference to hand over to Achebe manuscripts of his first two novels, Weep Not, Child and The River Between. The novels were published in 1964 and 1965, respectively, but James Ngugi would keep neither his name, nor the language in which he wrote. By 1970, convinced that the English language was a tool of colonisation, and that real decolonisation was impossible without decolonising the mind (including the language), James Ngugi had changed his name to Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o. Henceforth, Ngũgĩ would write in the language of his birth, Gikuyu. Ngũgĩ, who passed away on May 28 at the age of 87, has left behind a rich, varied, and sometimes complex legacy. Taught at the jewel of Kenya Colony's educational system, the Alliance High School, Ngũgĩ was trained to become either a member of the colonial elite, or of the neo-colonial comprador bourgeoisie that would take over Kenya after the transfer of power. Neither of these two things happened. Ngũgĩ was jerked out of his comfortable boarding school education when, at the height of the Mau Mau war for independence, his village was depopulated by the British as a form of collective punishment, his brother sent to a concentration camp, and Ngũgĩ himself briefly imprisoned before a fortuitous set of circumstances saw him freed. In his memoir, In the House of the Interpreter (2012), Ngũgĩ would paint a memorable — and at times, tragic — portrait of the English-speaking Kenyan intellectual elite, caught between two worlds, as the struggle for freedom intensified. Argument against English In the initial years after independence, this internal struggle continued, as Ngũgĩ achieved prominence as an African writer, writing in English, about distinctively African themes. The River Between, for example, examined the impact of colonialism on so-called 'traditional' practices, and the social havoc that that wreaks — in the mould of Achebe's Things Fall Apart(1958). However, after 1970, when Ngũgĩ resolved this struggle in his own mind, he faced a different — external — struggle. Writing in his native language, and with his explicitly left-wing and anti-colonial attitude, he soon drew the attention of President Jomo Kenyatta and his authoritarian regime. When Ngũgĩ staged a play called I Will Marry When I Want in 1977, he was arrested and imprisoned. In prison — in an act that has since become a part of legend — Ngũgĩ wrote his next novel, Devil on the Cross, in Gikuyu, and on toilet paper. Upon his release, Ngũgĩ went into exile, eventually settling into a teaching career in the United States. It was there that he developed his philosophy in greater detail, through books such as Decolonising the Mind (1986). Building upon arguments that had first been made in Makerere more than two-and-a-half decades ago, Decolonising the Mind made the case for abandoning English in order to achieve true decolonisation. Three decades later, in Secure the Base (2016), Ngũgĩ would develop this argument further, noting that 'each language, no matter how small, carries its memory of the world'. Suppressing language, thus, meant suppressing memory. However, in this, Ngũgĩ's views were not without controversy. His Kenyan compatriot, Binyavanga Wainaina, made gentle fun of Ngũgĩ puritanism in his own memoir, One Day I Will Write About This Place (2011). The Zimbabwean writer, Dambudzo Marechera, whose own decision to write was inspired by Ngũgĩ, clashed bitterly with him over the question of writing in English. Ngũgĩ's views about decolonisation were powerful — but they were never uncontested. Troubled legacy Ngũgĩ's suffering at the hands of both the colonial and the post-colonial Kenyan regimes came together in what many people (including this writer) believe to be his masterpiece, Wizard of the Crow (2006). Set in an unnamed African country, the novel takes an unsparing, sarcastic, and darkly humorous scalpel to the cruelties, banalities, and venalities of the 'Independence' government, which masks its own failures and justifies its repression by blaming both colonialism and neo-colonialism — even as that same government is economically and militarily propped up by Western powers as a front against communism. To read Wizard of the Crow is to rage, to laugh, and to weep, all at the same time — a testament not just to Ngũgĩ's mastery as a writer, but to the life he lived and which informed his work, a life of defiance. In the twilight of his life, Ngũgĩ's legacy was marred by allegations of domestic abuse. In a context in which towering literary figures are often treated as moral authorities — and Ngũgĩ certainly was — an obituary would be incomplete without acknowledging this, and noting the culture of silence that surrounds debates on literary legacy. For an honest assessment, we must hold these contradictions in balance, even as we celebrate the rich corpus of work that Ngũgĩ has left to us. The writer and reviewer is an author, most recently of 'The Sentence'.
Yahoo
29-05-2025
- General
- Yahoo
Celebrated Kenyan author and dissident Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o dies aged 87
Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o, the celebrated Kenyan author and champion of African expression, died on Wednesday aged 87. "It is with a heavy heart that we announce the passing of our dad, Ngugi wa Thiong'o this Wednesday morning," wrote his daughter Wanjiku Wa Ngug on Facebook. "He lived a full life, fought a good fight." Further details were not immediately available, though Ngũgĩ was receiving kidney dialysis treatments. Widely regarded as east Africa's most influential writer, Ngũgĩ's fiction and nonfiction books traced his country's history from British imperialism to home-ruled tyranny and challenged not only the stories told but the language used to tell them. "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. Best known for his novels such as 'The River Between', 'The Wizard of the Crow' and 'Petals of Blood,' memoirs such as 'Birth of a Dream Weaver' or the landmark critique 'Decolonizing the Mind' - a collection of essays about the role of language in forging culture, identity and history - Ngũgĩ was admired worldwide by authors ranging from John Updike to Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. He was also admired by former President Barack Obama, who once praised Ngũgĩ's ability to tell 'a compelling story of how the transformative events of history weigh on individual lives and relationships.' 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. Indeed, Ngũgĩ and fellow writer Ngugi wa Mirii were jailed without charge in 1977 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. Amnesty International named him a prisoner of conscience, before a global campaign secured his release from Kamiti Maximum Security Prison in December 1978. 'Resistance is the best way of keeping alive,' he told the Guardian in 2018. 'It can take even the smallest form of saying no to injustice. If you really think you're right, you stick to your beliefs, and they help you to survive.'
Euronews
29-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Euronews
Celebrated Kenyan author and dissident Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o dies aged 87
Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o, the celebrated Kenyan author and champion of African expression, died on Wednesday aged 87. "It is with a heavy heart that we announce the passing of our dad, Ngugi wa Thiong'o this Wednesday morning," wrote his daughter Wanjiku Wa Ngug on Facebook. "He lived a full life, fought a good fight." Further details were not immediately available, though Ngũgĩ was receiving kidney dialysis treatments. Widely regarded as east Africa's most influential writer, Ngũgĩ's fiction and nonfiction books traced his country's history from British imperialism to home-ruled tyranny and challenged not only the stories told but the language used to tell them. "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. Best known for his novels such as 'The River Between', 'The Wizard of the Crow' and 'Petals of Blood,' memoirs such as 'Birth of a Dream Weaver' or the landmark critique 'Decolonizing the Mind' - a collection of essays about the role of language in forging culture, identity and history - Ngũgĩ was admired worldwide by authors ranging from John Updike to Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. He was also admired by former President Barack Obama, who once praised Ngũgĩ's ability to tell 'a compelling story of how the transformative events of history weigh on individual lives and relationships.' 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. Indeed, Ngũgĩ and fellow writer Ngugi wa Mirii were jailed without charge in 1977 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. Amnesty International named him a prisoner of conscience, before a global campaign secured his release from Kamiti Maximum Security Prison in December 1978. 'Resistance is the best way of keeping alive,' he told the Guardian in 2018. 'It can take even the smallest form of saying no to injustice. If you really think you're right, you stick to your beliefs, and they help you to survive.' Five protesters have been arrested after reportedly targeting the central London set of Gal Gadot's upcoming film The Runner. Metropolitan Police responded to the Westminster set on Wednesday, where three people were arrested for harassment, as well as unlawfully obstructing access to a workplace. Another two were arrested over previous protests. All five individuals remain in custody. Police said the set was hit with demonstrations 'solely because an actress involved in the production is Israeli.' 'While we absolutely acknowledge the importance of peaceful protest, we have a duty to intervene where it crosses the line into serious disruption or criminality,' said Superintendent Neil Holyoak in a statement. "I hope today's operation shows we will not tolerate the harassment of or unlawful interference with those trying to go about their legitimate professional work in London." Gadot, who was born in Israel and served in the IDF, has previously expressed her support for Israel, sparking pro-Palestine protests at her Hollywood Walk of Fame ceremony in March. Her and Snow White co-star Rachel Zegler's opposing stances also hit headlines this year and plagued the released of the Disney live-action movie. The Palestinian Campaign for the Academic & Cultural Boycott of Israel (Pacbi) has previously said Gadot films should be boycotted, claiming she has shown support for Israel's military campaign in Gaza and the occupied West Bank.
