'Go into the jungle of my mind'

This time last week, Ngugi Wa’ Thiong’o was odds on favourite to receive this year’s Nobel Prize for literature. Unfortunately it went to Peruvian writer Mario Vargas Llosa. I have never read any of his work so I can’t really comment. It is said that as a young man he was a Marxist and now in his seventies has moved very much to the right. However like Ngugi, Llosa’s work is politically motivated with a sense of social responsibility. His statement that it is difficult for a writer to avoid politics in Latin America also applies to Africa:

‘Literature is an expression of life, and you cannot eradicate politics from life.’

The last time the Nobel was given to a South American was in 1982, when Gabriel Garcia Marquez author of ‘One Hundred Years of Solitude’, was awarded the prize. There are so many books that it’s difficult to have a favourite, but if I were to list five, ‘One Hundred Years of Solitude’ would be included. An anecdote worth mentioning is that in 1976 Marquez and Llosa, once close friends, had a fight in Mexico City. Marquez went to embrace Llosa who responded by punching him in the face, leaving him with a black eye. Apparently the exchange had something to do with Llosa’s wife, who had been consoled by Marquez during a marital separation. They have not spoken since.

I hoped Wa’Thiong’o would win and had decided to focus this week’s round up on art and literature. He didn’t win but I will stick with my original plan and review some of Africa’s art, music and literary blogs.

Moroccan writer, Laila Lalami has been blogging since October 2001, so not only is she probably one of the oldest bloggers in the world I would take a guess she was one of the first – if not THE first – African bloggers. I took a peep at her first post written on 1 October 2001 (she used to blog under the name ‘Moorish Girl’) which was brief and to the point:

‘Hello World. This is MoorishGirl’s first post.’

In her latest post, Laila claims the identity of Fodail Aberdeen, an ordinary man ‘of modest means’ who ‘spent the last week of his life, fighting for the return of his motorcycle.’ Fodail died after being beaten – possibly tortured – by Moroccan police in his home town of Sale:

‘The other reason you will not have heard about Fodail Aberkane is that he is the kind of victim who does not attract the attention of the English-language press. He is not a famous journalist, he does not run a political party, he has not run afoul of the Islamists, and he does not have any connection to terrorism. This particular victim is an easy one to ignore and to forget. When stories about Morocco are written, who will remember his name? Who, aside from his family, will mourn him? Who will hold his alleged murderers to account? Who will make sure that no other man or woman is beaten to death?’

http://www.pambazuka.org/images/articles/500/prof-abdilatif-abdalla2.jpgKimaniwaWanjiru publishes an interview with Professor Abdilatif Abdalla, on ‘Prison Literature in Kenya’. Abdalla was imprisoned during the Kenyatta era for questioning the direction in which Kenya was moving. On the theme of political writing he comments:

‘I think it is more than just writing. Because by writing, such writers – especially those who were imprisoned because of their writing, and while in prison were denied writing materials – are at the same time defying the powers that be and making a very bold statement that there is no way that they can be stopped from expressing their views through writing. In other words, by doing so they continue to resist against the very system, which imprisoned and restricted them.’

Poefrika by Rethabile Masilo, whose blog is one of the oldest and most inspiring poetry blogs in the blogosphere, and who also contributes to Black Looks, publishes an excerpt from Dub Wise by Jamaican/American poet, Geoffrey Philp. (I recently met Geoffrey in Miami and received a copy of Dub Wise – a collection of poetry and prose on identity and family).

‘Go into the jungle of my mind, god,
and send forth from a temple there
just like during a storm the force you'll find,
the dark sound of slaves in a hold where
a black, no-longer-dormant sea builds to a swirl,
hurting with rage: send it with a south-to-north angle,
please, this grudge of ages. Grant freedom to those who
know your name and go to it, god of a great many people.
As for me, Red-Stripe and jerk make me who I am
and fill me with thought, I'm uninhabited and free.
I'm me. Bastard with new chromosomes to give.
Yes, this is my song. On the banks of the Orange river
a full life I have lived, after coming here as a giver
of tokens and karma. Yes, they brought me here
against my will, but this island is my home,
I wear my mask across it like a Dogon sun.
The face I wear is mine. I wear it and on a palette
mix it with spit and the verb of my tongue
to paint into a final version the things I see,
to woo all who in the past have thought
that your wonders, god, were for nought.’

Cassava Republic publishes an ‘iconic’ photograph of Nigeria’s first Prime Minister, Alhaji Tafawa Blew, walking side by side with James Robertson, the last British governor general, at the 1960 independence celebrations. They then asked eight Nigerian writers to comment on the photo.

http://www.pambazuka.org/images/articles/500/robertson_and_TB2.jpgMy choice of responses is Carolos Moore, author of ‘Fela, This Bitch of a Life’:

‘The image of James Robertson, the last British Governor-General of Nigeria and Tafawa Balewa, the first Prime Minister of Nigeria, celebrating the birth of what is today called NIGERIA is nothing unusual. It is an image that says that, for all practical purposes, it is all business as usual. Just a new arrangement of the same colonial, neocolonial and neoimperial package.’

Nnedi’s Wahala Zone by Nigerian American writer, Nnedi Okorafor has a post on book covers. I started reading her novel ‘Who Fears Death’ but haven’t got very far. I’m not very patient when reading novels and if they don’t grab me quickly, I tend to give up. I promise to try again.

Okorafor has just unveiled the cover of her latest novel, ‘Akata Witch’ and apparently there are rumblings about the skin tone of the character on this cover and on ‘Who Fears Death?’. Nnedi says the women are light skinned because that’s what they are – one is mixed race and the other an albino, so yes that makes sense. (Roll eyes!) As a way of defending herself, she goes on to discuss the issue of hair on other book covers – such as straight hair, when it should have been ‘dada’. Oh God! Here is the full illustration, which was changed from the second photo.

http://www.pambazuka.org/images/articles/500/Zahrah2.jpg

http://www.pambazuka.org/images/articles/500/zahrah-pic_1b.jpg‘Here is the paperback cover. When they showed it to me, I was deeply annoyed with the wisps of straightened hair in this image. My character had dada hair, for goodness sake (basically dreadlocks. I'm not too fond of the word "dreadlocks" because such hair is in no way "dreadful". However, I occasionally use it for the sake of clarity).

But the image was what it was (Apparently, there are very very few stock images of black women with natural hair. It's problematic as heck). I had them tint the hair green, so it looks more like plants or cloth. I also had them darken her skin tone. Note, this was my first novel. It was not easy to ask for all this, but I did’.

Some other literary blogs worth visiting are: Kenyan Poet, Art Speak Africa, Molara Wood’s WORDSBODY, BOOK Southern African, Jude Diba, The Bookaholic Blog and StoryMoja.

And finally, Black Looks guest blogger Mia Nikasimo is back on form with her wonderful edgy poetry on transphobia, racism and life on London’s streets.

BROUGHT TO YOU BY PAMBAZUKA NEWS

* Sokari Ekine blogs at Black Looks.
* Please send comments to [email protected] or comment online at Pambazuka News.