Thiong’o, we cannot write an obituary about an ‘idea’ that illuminated so many generations transcending geopolitical borders. Ambrosia Editorial – 4th 03rd June, 2025
Ambrosia Editorial – 4th, the 3rd June, 2025
Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o
“Your mind and soul
churn out image after image.
There is one engine
that has no arrival,
It steams image after
image, like you.
Art is a journey
without an end, because
Because it continues
its self-resurrection
Into new selves
Look at the guy
called Shakespeare
Still talking to us
Or the unknown
numerous others
Like them that
authored Mahabharata
Art knows not death.
Art contains arrival
and departure.”
This is not an obituary. we cannot write an
obituary about an ‘idea’ that illuminated so many generations transcending
geopolitical borders. Let me not equate awards with literary greatness, though at
the same time, it must also be acknowledged that the lack of the award did not
prevent us from reading Thiong’o who died on May 28, 2025.
Celebrating instead his love for truth and
justice and generosity by sharing some of his poems which were written at
different times in different places. His creative works were diverse, but his
preference for nocturnal ones was consistent!
Among the African writers who emerged in the
middle of the 20th century, the most political undoubtedly was Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o. Born in Kenya while
it was still under British rule, he was anti-colonialist, a communist,
anti-dictatorial, and an almost militant proponent for African languages being
used for African literature.
His best works exist at the interface between
the political and the personal. His first book of essays, Home coming, is at once engaging
and polemical. His early novels Weep Not, Child and A Grain of Wheat look at the impact of
colonialism and the Mau Mau rebellion on individual lives ["Mau Mau"
refers to a Kenyan militant nationalist movement that emerged in the
1950s. It was a violent resistance against British colonial rule,
particularly focused on land ownership and political rights for
Kenyans. The origin of the name "Mau Mau" is debated, with some
suggesting it was a secret Kikuyu language game or a military
codeword. The movement eventually became known as the Kenya Land and
Freedom Army (KLFA)]. He was strangely at his best with the personal
and the intimate, but his reputation grew more from his political stances –
first against the British government, then against the dictatorship in Kenya in
the 70s. He was jailed not for a thundering political text but for a play in
Kikuyu called I Will Marry When I Want [I Will Marry When I
Want is a Gikuyu play co-written by Ngũgĩ wa Mirii and Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o.
First produced in Kenya in 1977, the story depicts a farmer who is tricked into
risking his land due to social and religious pressures. The prominent themes reflect
a commentary on the hypocrisy and corruption of religion and capitalism, and
the politics explored in the play were controversial in post-colonial Kenya.
The production of the play is widely believed to be the root of Mirii and
Thiong’o’s arrests and detentions without charges that same year. The writers
were released in 1978, along with other detainees, once Daniel Toroitich arap
Moi succeeded tyrannical President Kenyatta after his death.
The play opens at the modest home of a poor couple, Kĩgũũnda and Wangeci. They
are busy preparing their home to receive wealthy visitors while discussing
their daughter, Gathoni. Their beautiful yet superficial daughter is dating
John Mũhũũni, who they criticize for being lazy and modern. Kĩgũũnda has a deed
to one and a half acres of land framed on the wall, purchased after the
revolution that brought Kenya its independence. Kĩgũũnda is very proud of this
asset, and it represents the only financial security the family has.
They are visited by their friends Gĩcaamba and Njooki. Gĩcaamba is very politically
involved, and he is very critical of the wealthy and of the Western powers that
he believes collaborate with the rich to oppress the Kenyan people. He is also
unhappy about the influence of Western religions, notably Christianity, which
are beginning to push out the traditional Kenyan religions and cultures.] During his imprisonment,
he wrote his memoir on toilet paper!
Ngũgĩ would paralyse you with an
innocent-seeming question. It is said that, Bertolt Brecht was like that too.
In his gentle way Ngũgĩ compelled you to come up with cogent answers to the probing
remarks he made about African literature and the question of language, a
question of authenticity. In his company you could not be lazy.
Towards the end of his life, he became a
perennial favourite to win the Nobel prize, and like Borges, had to endure the
rise and fall of expectation every October. Family tragedy also marred his
later years.
‘Flow love flow flawlessly’, Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o’s poetry contemplates
truth and justice; some others are:
La Serenissima
Venice Venice Venice
You have stolen hearts of writers from many lands
Which have given birth to great literature.
Shakespeare penned The Merchant of Venice and
The tale of Othello, the black hero of ancient Venice.
Thomas Mann, the German, dreamt up Death in Venice.
From Goethe, Henry James to Italo Calvino they’ve told stories.
So I, Ngũgĩ, will also weave one or two in Gĩkũyũ
To remind the world that the African sweat also built Venice
The way it did other European cities:
Amsterdam Copenhagen London Lisbon Madrid Paris Stockholm
Venice Venice Venice three times I call you to make sure you hear:
Your serenity might
lull one into forgetting
It hides a history of the blood you once enslaved.
Quick Judgment
In a restaurant near my
place in Campo San Samuele I told them
I wanted their specialty, so that
On returning home to Africa I would sing gloria to the taste of Italian food.
They brought me fish and spaghetti with black ink all over it.
What kind of people are these?
They flood my food with black ink just because I am black?
I walked back to Campo San Samuele angry and hungry.
Another day my guide Lucio De Capitani took me to Trattoria da Jonny.
I ordered lamb and hastened to tell them not to add anything to the meal.
Lucio de Capitani asked for the dish he loved most.
They brought him fish and spaghetti flooded with black ink.
This is the most beloved dish in Venice, he told me, and
The black ink is what we love most.
It is not pen ink;
It is a black liquid squeezed out of a squid.
Bridges of Locked Love
Venice is home to
hundreds of islands
Linked by numerous bridges.
Rialto Bridge; Bridge of Sighs; Academy ; and
The Devil’s Bridge all have stories to tell.
Brides and Bridegrooms come from far and wide
China, Japan or Korea;
They exchange rings and take selfies at their favourite bridge.
Lovers descend from all corners of the globe,
Pour their love and vows into a padlock,
They hang the locks on the bridge and throw the key into the river
So their love will remain locked together forever.
The bridges hang low under the weight of locked love.
But the one I recall more clearly is the Bridge of Sighs:
It links Doge’s Palace and the New Prison on Piazza San Marco.
The wealthy stand on the bridge and sigh with satisfaction
The victims of wealth stand on the bridge and sigh with sorrow.
We, being unable to
conclude would like to put it in writing to start a fresh with Ngugi wa Thiong’o “How does a writer, a
novelist, shock his readers by telling them that these are neo-slaves when they
themselves, the neo-slaves, are openly announcing the fact on the rooftops? How
do you shock your readers by pointing out that these are mass murderers,
looters, robbers, thieves, when they, the perpetrators of these anti-people
crimes, aren’t even attempting to hide the fact? When in some cases they are
actually and proudly celebrating their massacre of children, and the theft and
robbery of the nation? How do you satirise their utterances and claims when
their own words beat all fictional exaggerations?”
Enjoy Ambrosia Consistently!
Heartily Yours,
~~Chandan Bandyopadhyay and Elija Gayen~~
for and on behalf of the BoEds
Biman Banerjee Gopa Mukherjee Elija Gayen
Pritha Biswas Writi Ghosh
Chandan Bandyopadhyay
Courtesy Naveen Kishore, publisher.
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