Basic Black; 3808; Conversation With Author Ngugi wa Thiong'o

A conversation with Kenyan author Ngugiwa Tiungo next on Basic Black. Described by the New York Times as a literary lion, author Ngugiwa Tiungo has been in exile from Kenya for over 20 years. I'm Howard Mandley and I'm pleased to welcome Ngugi to Basic Black for a conversation about his life and latest novel, The Wizard and the Crow. Before we start talking about the actual book, what inspired you to become a writer? Well, like many African people, I grew up with stories around the fireside, so I come from really a great oral storytelling tradition. Now, you have mentioned

several times that there's this power of the language, and when did you recognize that language had a power? Actually, right from childhood. In all cultures, they like playing with words, twisting words, making ordinary words, becoming or having other meanings, inventing words. So, grow up to recognize the power of words. You grow up around the fireside listening to radals, again, radoling is really playing with words and their complexity, their mystery, then stories. So gradually you come to recognize this power of language. And there is a downside to some language, and Kenyan, when you were growing up, if you spoke your native language. In the school compound, the downside to this was

that actually there was a discrepancy between the language of growing up and the language of the school system. Although during the colonial era, because Kenya where I come from was at the British colonial rule from 1895 to 1963, but English gradually became dominant. what really happened was when you spoke the core language or any African language in the school compound, you actually punished. Right, and that just seemed so odd that you would be punished for speaking your native language, but that sort of symbolized British rule. Yeah, because that's what happens in other case, you associate negativity and humiliation with your own language. And by the same token, you associate

positivity, intelligence, creativity with English. Now, how did you blend both the sort of enchantment with words and then the power of words during the Mao Mao revolution? During the Mao Mao revolution, between 1932 and 1933, particularly preceding the actual revolution or the actual war, there was a lot of creativity in African languages. There were newspapers in African languages, they made poems in African languages, they sang, they told stories. So it's really a magical moment in our history. But during the struggle itself, when a state of emergency was declared in Kenya by the British. And this was during when they wanted to have independence? Yeah, actually, they banned songs, they banned Native American languages,

they even tried to, they attempted to ban dances. The only problem is you can never, no matter how you try, you can never ban songs, because we can even hum a melody. And people will get the words. And so when was your writing more political? Well, would say the impact of the struggle for independence on my thinking is very, very important, because I went to school during that period. I was born in 1938. And by 1962, the war, the Mao Mao war against the British had broken out in Kenya. Some of my family members, actually, as a family, we were caught in between. In a sense, some of my brothers, for instance, were fighting on the side of Mao Mao,

the part of those who were in the mountains and those who were in the detention camps. But another part of my family was fighting with the British. So we were really caught. Our family was literally torn into two opposing sides. So this had obviously an impact on me as it had on all the children who grew up in Kenya during that time. Now, your writings ultimately led to you being imprisoned. Can you tell us the circumstances? First of all, there are a number of ironies that, you know, after independence, you know, some of the colonial distortions became normalized. Can you give me an example of that? Language is one thing. You're giving it quite normal. I mean, in the colonial era, they turned to what is normal. What is normal, you speak your own language. And then you add other languages. You can know an African language, and then add English, know, French. That's what

is normal. And the colonial rule, it was turned around. English first. African language is on the periphery. Now, after independence, that abnormality of the colonial situation, we nationalized it. normalized abnormality. So that children continued, even today, they continue being humiliated in school, compared when they are caught by their teachers speaking an African language. So that which is abnormal in the colonial era, you know, becomes normalized in the colonial era. So I'm still erecting our development on very irrational grounds. yes. Now, Jo Mo Kenyatta became the first prime minister and the first president. was he able to sort of cut through the abnormalities of? No, no, he was caught up in that abnormality. He was, you know, there's actually two Kenyatta. There's Kenyatta, the

anti -colonial nationalist, you know, the one who wrote the book facing out Kenya, the one who really sort of emphasized African dignity, know, the one who talked about caliber, racism, and so on, very, very strong as an anti -colonial nationalist. But then there's a Kenyatta who now becomes the president of the Republic of Kenya, he more as begins to side more and more with, or put this way, he does not actually fulfill the promises of the anti -colonial struggle. Okay, so he doesn't actually cut through those abnormalities. He also helps in normalizing or Africanizing or nationalizing some of those

absurdities in all the colonial era. Now, when did you decide not to write in English? This was in 1977, 78, know, after prison. What happened was I was imprisoned in 1977. let's stop right then, and that's when you wrote this novel on toilet paper. In prison, you know, and I made, that's when I made the decision that since I've been put in a maximum security prison for being creative in theater, in an African language, know, I told myself that I would no longer now write in English language, you know. So in prison, at the committee, maximum security prison, I used the only material we had, you know, which was toilet paper. The toilet paper we had in prison was hard because it was mental, I think, punished. Prisoners, I think. you know, what was bad

for the biological body was actually very good as writing material. All right. And so you decided, again, not to write in English? I said that from then, I'll be writing primarily in my mother tongue, the Korean language. I had normal relationships to all languages, you know. Not that I hated English languages, nothing wrong with English. It's a great language, like other languages, you know. But at least I felt it was important for me to write in equal language. And then my works, either were translated, that's fine. Either or not, that was also fine. Now, what led you to become exiled? Well, again, the same process, you know, after, you know, when I came out of prison after one year because of the campaign for my release by a lead public like James Baldwin.

James Baldwin, Amnesty International. After one year in December, December 8th, I came out of prison. But I was hounded by the Moe dictatorship. Because by the time when I was in prison, Moe, who would actually imprison me as a vice president, had now become the president. Right. So it was John McKinney and then Moe. Yeah. Then he was hounding me. Yes. Yeah. And he hounded me out of the country. So that, you know, I found myself in exile in 1982. People talk about my self -imposed exile. was not a self -imposed exile. The fact is, I could not return to Kenya without the threat which I knew about, that Iva returned to Kenya after I had gone to England for the promotion of my books, English translations of my books. I learned that Iva returned to Kenya. The regime was waiting for me to give me what they called a red carpet welcome.

And a red carpet welcome, ladies. The red carpet. The white red in Kenya of Moe era meant more than the color of ink. Right. Right. All right. Let's talk about the Wizard of the Crow. Fascinating, fascinating, wonderful book. What is the basic plot and what did you try to accomplish in that book? Yeah, what, you know, first of all, I was very fascinated by our, I'm still, am not in the post -colonial dictatorship after independence, you know. The dictatorship that comes in, is there in Africa. Yeah. These people like Idi Amin, like Danny Rob Moe, Mabuto, Bocasa, this color of Africa. You know. And it's also right across that world, there is find the same phenomenon in Chile, Pinochet, in Marcos, of Philippines, Suhata, of Indonesia and so on. So it's a phenomenon of the 20th century, you know. Then when you look at, beneath it, you find that these dictatorships were actually sponsored by the West. The Western democracies needed

these dictatorships in a Cold War struggle, you know. So these dictatorships, know, although also bred by indigenous conditions, you know, but they functioned really as functionaries, you know, otherwise in the Cold War. But now, they became, although sponsored by the West, but they became like the proverbial Gini, which you take it out of the bottle, you cannot, know, put it back. And they became these floating terrorist states against their own population, you know, literally, who were not accountable to their own people and not even accountable in the end to any pressures from the West for reform. Yeah. And in this book, you take that to its fantastical extreme. Yes, you know, because actually, to be very frank, you the way I find it, a dictatorship is a tragedy manifesting itself as comedy. Yes. Very.

And so I imagined this ruler, you know, who has no name because he's the ruler, he has no other name, he's ruler, he's the ruler, you know, who imagines, you know, a building that, you know, we're taking to heaven. A stairway to heaven. Yes, a stairway to heaven. that, you know, he can wake up in the morning and say, God, how are you this morning? You know, he has God for advice and the economic development of the fictional territory of Africa. You know, he wants to be God's neighbor. But this project, you know, is to be financed by the global bank. But who is to pay for the loans? It's already a failure. Right. So in the end, is the people, the citizens of the country, this fictional territory of freedom, who end up paying the loans,

plus interest, plus, you know, servicing debt or whatever, you know, this project, you know. So the stairway to heaven also spawned all of this corruption. So if you were any way connected in the government in this mythical world, you received a lot of bribes. Yeah. And it happens that the people, like one of the characters is Tadrika, is made chairman of the building committee. And he become the object of bribes from potential contractors. Yes. You know, they don't have, even before they don't have the loans, the very idea. Thank you. didn't have a blue card. Building committee, you know, business people are lining up, you know. That was the most hilarious thing. And even when you tell them that it wasn't in, they will line up again. And there's also this part about this

sort of magical wizardry, that's the Wizard of the Crow, where there is this sort of this faith in which you could not see that you go through in this book. Yeah. The Wizard of the Crow actually, you know, himself, is he, he's not a wizard in the sense of being a sorcerer. Yes. But initially, in order to escape from policemen who are pursuing him, he and another lead character, Nyawera, he puts up a sign outside the house to say that this is the house belongs to the Wizard of the Crow and touch it at your peril. know, and when the policeman comes there and he sees this sign, know, he runs away and so sorry. But for me, he turns up. He wants the power of sorcery, you know. He wants the services of sorcery. So in a way, the character of

committee, know, the character of Wizard of the Crow is created by the situation. And then this character of committee and Nyawera, they are now forced to perform Wizard of the Crow. Now, it's 800 pages long. What, what do you want people to come away with after they finish this novel? You know, first of all, think I wanted to obviously to, to really understand what I'm talking about, the struggle between spiritual and material forces in society, in the context, obviously, of dictatorship. And I want people to come up with this, know, fundamentally, the story is also a love story. Yeah. So that's also very important because I see love, you know, as opening the, for me, love is like a window into who is possible really in human life.

Love is like the heaven, you know, like intimations of heaven, you know, so love I see as very important. But in the context of real, real forces, know, in society, economic, political, and cultural forces in society. The other thing is for me was very important. are the dictatorships, whatever. They are brought out by, they are helped by the culture of silence. The culture of silence is very, very great here in the society, know, East, West, Africa, whatever. was a culture of silence which breeds the possibilities of authoritarianism, you know. So the silence in the face of atrocities, know, or, you know, tends to breed more atrocities, you know. So for me, resistance in the form of words and so on is very important because I believe really

in the aesthetic of resistance. Now, how do you remain connected to your homeland? Yeah, writing is very important to me. know, my position on African languages is so important to me and whether I am at NYU where I was, you know, New York University where I was for 10 years, now in California, you know, for the last four years, you know, I still, and even when I'm teaching, English and comparative literature, those institutions, you know, through the struggle of African languages, you know, I keep connected because I know that struggle of a marginalized language is, know, is of course an African struggle, but you actually find the same phenomenon even here, Native American languages, you know, are also marginalized. There are some European languages which were also, you know, marginalized and so on. So in a way, you find that the struggle of languages, know, or democracy of languages, you know, this struggle

is really global in dimension, but obviously I see it through, you know, African eyes, through my experience, you know, as an African. How do you embrace Kenya now? I know that you had vowed never to return to Kenya during the Moyre presidency, and then you do go back and then... Because, yeah, you know, we are tragedy in the sense that we are actually, yeah, that's true. I had said not going back to Kenya because I could not really return, but when Moyre regime, you know, fell through electoral defeat, I and my wife, we returned to Kenya, that was 2004. We were received the exception by the people and thousands came to the airport to see us. And you took the ground. Yeah, and it's great, you know, and then two weeks later, you know, we

are attacked by four armed, you know, men, you know, four gunmen, you know, come to our room, which was in a very secure part of Nairobi, you know, and they humiliated us in every possible way. They banned me with cigarettes, essentially, I sought my wife, and I really believed that we were subject for elimination, and my wife, Jerry and I, not, you know, struggled fought back unexpectedly, and there was also a touch of what I call divine intervention. But that doesn't negate your love for Kenya? No, no, no, you know, I have balance between, I say this, look, the overwhelming welcome we got from Kenyans, you know, and even afterwards, whenever we walked in the streets of Nairobi, ordinary people would walk across

to come and greet my wife or greet me and say how sorry they are, you know, and say they are with us and so was, you know, so that overwhelming, I cannot let those forces, which have always hounded me to hound me out of Kenya. What would you like to see Kenya become? know, an economic, political, and cultural power, know, by that I mean, I want to see empowerment of ordinary people, I want to see us having, securing our base as Kenyans, know, but engaging also with the rest of Africa, the Black world and with the world, but from our base, know, as Kenyans, know, as Africans, is very, important. What do you think, what role would African Americans have in that development? What I'm calling securing our base, because very important, because the, first of all, remember that African,

what I call continental Africans and diaspora Africans, our histories, you know, connect over so many stages, know, you know, I mean, a good example, not the earlier histories, of course, very obvious, that diasporas Africans were taken from Africa, obviously, know, but the other stages where they are similarities are very, very clear, you know, for reasons, you know, if you, the civil rights movement, yeah, in the fifties coincides also with the independence, and you remember the, what do call the voting rights act of 1964 here, know, coincides also with the Africans of the continent getting votes, it's the same, the way, you know, same phenomenon. So what I'd like to see is greater, you know, alliance, conscious alliance, as was innovation by Pan -Africanism, you know, between

African Americans, know, and continental Africans, you know, and other black people, secure that relationship, and from that security, if you like, you know, from that power base, also connect with the rest of the world, because we are part of the world, we've contributed the world, know, and we want of our fair share of that world. Before we wrap up, do you think you'll return to Kenya? Yes, I've already, actually, my wife and I have gone back several times because of the trial against those people who were hired, I believe, by some other forces to come and eliminate us, and eventually I will keep returning, returning. You know what I say, the crime, if you've got an enemy and that enemy fells you down, the crime is not in that person filling you down, it's you accepting to keep lying down. Every time you are down, you must try and rise

again. It will form the beauty, the aesthetic of resistance, or the beauty of resistance lies in that very act of refusing to lie down when you are felled down by your enemy. That's the beauty of resistance. And Gugiwa Tiunga, thank you so much for a great, great conversation. Thank you. And thank you for the Basic Black team. I'm Howard Manley. Thank you for joining us. For questions or comments, you can email us. Our address is Basic Black at WGBH .org. For program information, go to WGBH .org slash Basic Black.