Having published his first novel – Weep Not Child – in 1964, Ngũgĩ pursued a rich and acclaimed career as a writer, teacher and decolonial thinker. His last creative effort was Kenda Muiyuru (The Perfect Nine), a Gikuyu epic that was longlisted for the 2021 International Man Booker Prize.
by 
Peter Kimani, Aga Khan University Graduate School of Media and Communications (GSMC)
One of Africa’s most celebrated authors Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o has passed away. The Kenyan writer and academic was 87 years old.
Having published his first novel – Weep Not Child – in 1964, Ngũgĩ pursued a rich and acclaimed career as a writer, teacher and decolonial thinker. His last creative effort was Kenda Muiyuru (The Perfect Nine), a Gikuyu epic that was longlisted for the 2021 International Man Booker Prize.
Kenyan academic and writer Peter Kimani sets out five things you should know about a legendary African writer.
Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o is regarded as one of Africa’s greatest writers of all time. He grew up in what became known as Kenya’s White Highlands at the height of British colonialism. Unsurprisingly, his writing examines the legacy of colonialism and the intricate relationships between locals seeking economic and cultural emancipation and the local elites serving as agents of neo-colonisers.
The great expectations for the new country, as captured in his seminal play, The Black Hermit, anticipated the disillusionment that followed. His fiction, from the foundational trilogy of Weep Not, Child, The River Between and A Grain of Wheat, amplify those expectations, before the optimism gives way in Petals of Blood, and is replaced by disillusionment.
African fiction is fairly young. Ngũgĩ stands in the continent’s pantheon of writers who started writing when Africa’s decolonisation gained momentum. In a certain sense, the writers were involved in constructing new narratives that would define their people. But Ngũgĩ’s recognition goes beyond his pioneering role at home: his writing resonates with many across Africa.
One could also recognise his consistency at churning out high-quality stories about Africa’s contemporary society. This he always did in a way that illustrates his commitment to equality and social justice.
He has done much more, through scholarship. His treatise, Decolonising the Mind, now a foundational text in post-colonial studies, illustrates his versatility. His ability to spin the yarns while commenting on the politics that goes into literary production of marginal literature is a very rare combination.
Finally, one could talk about Ngũgĩ’s cultural and political activism. This precipitated his yearlong detention without trial in 1977. He attributed his detention to his rejection of English and embracing his Gikuyu language as his vehicle of expression.
It’s hard to pick a favourite from Ngũgĩ’s over two dozen texts. But there is concurrence among critics that A Grain of Wheat, which was voted among Africa’s best 100 novels at the turn of the last century, stands out for its stylistic experimentation and complexity of characters.
Others consider the novel as the last signpost before Ngũgĩ’s work became overly political. For other critics, it’s Wizard of the Crow – which came out in 2004, after nearly two decades of waiting – that encapsulates his creative finesse. It utilises many literary tropes, including magical realism, and addresses the politics of African development and the shenanigans by the political elite to maintain the status quo.
His work has been translated into more than 30 languages around the world.
Without a doubt, Africa would be poorer without the efforts of Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o and other pioneering writers to tell the African story. He was an important figure in post-colonial studies. His constant questioning of the privileging of the English language and culture in Kenya’s national discourse saw him lead a movement that led to the scrapping of the Department of English at the University of Nairobi – replaced by a Department of Literature that placed African literature and its diasporas at the centre of scholarship.
Ngũgĩ remained active in writing even in old age. Among his later offerings was the third instalment of his memoir, Birth of a Dreamweaver that looks back on his years at Makerere University in Uganda. This is the period when he published his novels, Weep Not, Child and The River Between, while still an undergraduate. Also at this time he wrote the play, The Black Hermit, which was performed as part of Uganda’s independence celebrations in 1962.
In later years he was busy restoring his early works into Gikuyu, from the English language, which he bid farewell to in 1977, opting rather to write in his indigenous tongue.
Ngũgĩ appeared on the list of favourites to win the Nobel Prize in Literature for a number of years. Since the workings of the Nobel award committee remain secret – the list of the committee’s deliberations are kept secret for 50 years – it will be decades before we know why he was overlooked when so many felt he richly deserved the prize.
This is an updated version of the article first published in 2016.
Peter Kimani, Professor of Practice, Aga Khan University Graduate School of Media and Communications (GSMC)
This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
