Nineteen Eighty Four. By George Orwell

OK let us start with a cliche: this is one of the most celebrated, classic works in ‘eurocentric’ literary history .... so we might infer from this that I am a "proud African" who nevertheless appreciates international literature.

1984 is something of a nightmare, over 70 years after its initial publication; not even in the heart of Africa can one envisage such totalitarianism - actually Africans generally celebrate life, jollity, fecundity et al... people are much too concerned with their own blissful exuberance (especially those at the top) rather than worry about the ordinary man's behaviour, thoughts, and predilections. 'Yes-men' hold sway, but that suits all the parties, quand meme!

But yet one squirms upon re-reading this work, a very grim scenario where everything sad, dismal and restrictive holds sway. As our main protagonist Winston Smith makes clear:

"...Already we know almost literally nothing about the Revolution and the years before the Revolution. Every record has been destroyed or falsified, every book has been re-written, every picture has been re-painted, every statue and street and building has been renamed, every date has been altered. And that process is continuing day by day and minute by minute. History has stopped. Nothing exists except an endless present in which the Party is always right..."

And what concerns the powers that be with private love interests, affairs, and such manifestations? Yet Big Brother ensures that such a thing (relationships) which even now we take for granted in every society is part of the horror story. No wonder our main female protagonist here too is an embodiment of palpable despair, cynicism and frustration, as we read: "Julia was 26 years old. She lived in a hostel with 30 other girls ('Always in the stink of women! How I hate women!' She said parenthetically). ..

Both Julia and Smith suffer in transcendent fashion (though the focus is on Mr. Smith.). He is tortured, de-humanised and brainwashed to the extent that it has become an egregious ordeal for one to re-read this book. What is the point of it all?

Since we know that no matter what, Winston Smith will lose it all. The inevitable bullet awaits and Smith himself is very much aware of this. Yet when at the end we read, nauseatingly, "... the struggle was finished. He had won the victory over himself. He loved Big Brother "... we await the goddamn bullet for ourselves- Malome Eric

ISKA. By Cyprian Ekwensi

 

"There is something in your life which moves - like wind.  Blows across everything. Like wind. Shifts, like sand ... You have to be careful ..."

 A Mallam, on the fate of Filia 

 The story of the life of a young woman, Filia, a girl brought up in a convent, with some tragedies in her life. Initially she is in love with a young man, Dan Kaybi. In fact they are very briefly married.

 Filia is meretriciously strict in relationships, it is not easy for her to fall for just any man. As she says:

 "I like men who are modern. I like men who do things. I like men who are elegant and civilised, not just those who think their money can buy me"

 But it is not easy to identify with her ideals, or the men she chooses, or her general mien, especially when she begins to live and blossom in Lagos. Like how she suddenly succumbs to Rayimi, who is quite bluntly a cheap, callow irritating thug. It is a brief improbable affair, but as they are together, we are startled to suddenly read:

 "She slipped on a rubber girdle and sat for a moment smoking. She smoked fifteen cigarettes and drank half a bottle of brandy...". Is this the same convent girl still relatively fresh in Lagos? OK, ex-convent girl then!

 We are startled again when Filia suddenly goes to the much older Gadson’s office to seduce him. There is nothing earlier on to suggest that she even likes him. And yet again she says to him:

 "Gadson, you know I love you. And I know you love me. It is useless fighting your desires". Incredible.

When we are introduced to Dapo Ladele, we come across a shockingly disgusting, twisted character. Dapo first comes across as a somewhat charismatic young journalist - a shameless hack really - but soon we learn fully what he is all about. As he himself admits: "I work for money, Filia.Not for conscience. Why must I be the one to show conscience?"

But the tragedy of Dapo the young man is the tragedy of Nigeria and Africa as a whole. The paucity of young men of integrity and positive values. And yes, hordes of women continue to fall for such worthless ‘gentlemen’.

The finale of the book is sad and haunting as our Filia dies very young; yet it is far from convincing.  Is it necessary that Filia should die do young?  It is almost as if the author wants to force her demise on us to fit in with the "Iska" theme and title of this work.

 On the whole, a very readable book written by one of Africa's outstanding writers.

Celebrating Joe Thloloe

 

On April 10 (2021) a tiny knot of journalists, mostly those who have retired and a sprinkling of young ones met in Soweto to pay homage to one of their own, the revered South African wordsmith, Joe Nong Thloloe. The setting was the 16 June Memorial Acre in White City Jabavu although some residents of Central Western Jabavu claim this historic piece of real estate is in their township.

Thloloe has warded off the ageing process rather well. He is turning 79 in a few months but does not look much different from the individual I met nearly fifty years ago as a rookie journalist, in 1973 to be precise.

Many of those journalists who started out with him are no more. Contemporaries that readily come to mind are Aggrey Klaaste, Juby Mayet and those who were a few years older such as Stan Motjuwadi and Casey Motsisi.

Thloloe straddles many generations in the history of black journalism in this country. He came towards the tail end of Drum magazine’s golden era. Then he Hushered some of us and the likes of Willie Bokala, Maud Motanyane, Pearl Luthuli, the late Ruth Bhengu, Duma Ndlovu and too many to mention at the height of Black Consciousness.

When the SABC was forced to cast off its function as a propaganda machinery of the National Party, Thloloe was among a team head hunted to ring in changes within this institution which plays a critical role in shaping public opinion.

He entered the profession at a time when the era immortalised by iconic figures like Henry Nxumalo, Can Themba and symbolised by the destruction of Sophiatown was coming to an end.This was the era of Drum magazine. Nxumalo had been killed several years earlier. Themba had quit journalism to take up teaching in Swaziland now Eswatini. Others had sought greener pastures abroad.

When Thloloe immersed himself fully in journalism the political landscape on the continent had changed 360 degrees. The winds of change were sweeping throughout from Morocco to Madagascar. Apartheid police became even more vicious culminating in the Sharpeville and Langa massacres on March 21.

On that fateful day on March 21 1960, 18 years old Thloloe was part of those who marched with the Pan Africanist Congress leaders including Robert MangalisoSobukwe in a historic protest march against the Pass Laws. These laws ignominously compelled African males over 16 years to carry on their persons all the time an identity document specific to Africans only. Failure to produce such a document was a criminal offence.

The March 21 anti Pass campaign marked the turning point in the politics of South Africa. In the wake of the Sharpeville and Langa massacres, Pretoria went a step further by outlawing the less than one year old PAC and the much older African National Congress. The politics of deputations and pleadings with the latter day pharaohs had come to an end.

Both the PAC and ANC embarked on the armed struggle, the PAC in particular orchestrated the expulsion of South Africa from the United Nations and the country became a pariah in most parts of the world. For his participation in the March 21 campaign Thloloe earned himself a spell in prison.

Imprisonment was to scar his life intermittently for almost the next thirty years until the unbanning of political parties in 1990. His second spell in prison came in 1976 when he was detained for four months. Typical of the times, he was not given reasons for his incarceration. As his colleagues, we knew why. His sin was being a journalist and leader of our union, the Union of Black Journalists. He was also a good and bloody stubborn journalist. Being a good journalist and known but hard to proof PAC connections was too potent a brew the Boers could not stomach. Hence the arbitrary detentions.

The following year he was detained for an even longer stretch 18 months. He was held under the so called Terrorism Act of 1967. If the security police hoped to break him with torture – he says there were occasions when they so viciously tortured him that he cried – they were wasting their time. He is as tough as nailshareds. He once told me how as a teenager his mother often despaired in trying to discipline him and in exasperation would shout unenkaniyeselesele. This is the sort of stubbornness that even those security police sadists, trained in all the techniques of inflicting pain could not subdue. He was banned for three years in 1981, then jailed between 1982 – 1984.

A former colleague Phil Mtimkulu says of Thloloe  ‘ I have lost count the number of times this guy was detained. In those days if I had not seen him for a stretch of time I knew he was arrested’, a sentiment echoed by fellow ex journalist and, friend ThamiMazwai.

As speaker after speaker shared fond memories of their interaction over the years with this towering Pan Africanist, it was, I think Oupa Ngwenya who summed up the true character of the man of the occasion when he said of him ‘In all the years we were colleagues at Sowetan, I don’t recall Bra Joe showing his struggle credentials or even shouting the PAC slogan of Izwelethu.

The April 10 gathering was a stirring celebration of a very modest but towering figure in politics, but largely journalism

- Mpikeleni Duma (Johannesburg)

K. P. D MAPHALLA DIES !

  ... Legendary Sesotho Writer Gives up the Ghost

The literary world is in mourning after the news broke that legendary
Sesotho (South Africa) writer, K. P. D Maphalla, is dead. The pertinent
tributes keep on cascading with gusto.

As Wikipedia succinctly states: ‘Kgotso Pieter David (K.P.D.) Maphalla
(born 1955, South Africa) is a writer in the Sesotho language. An author of more than 40 books, Maphalla has received an honorary
doctorate from the University of the Free State, as well as a Lifetime
Achievement Award in Literature.
Amongst his many books (not to mention radio plays,) are the
following: Tahleho (drama); Tshiu tseo (novel); Kabelwamanong
(detective novel); Botsang lebitla (novel); Tsie lala (poetry);
Mahohodi (poetry); Dikano (poetry); Ditema (poetry); Fuba sa ka
(poetry); Kgapha tsa ka (poetry); Seitebatso (poetry); Sentebale
(poetry); A tale of two fathers (English novel); Mohlomong Hosane
(essays/short stories); Bashemane ba Dibataolong (novel).’

Indeed, one of Maphalla’s most popular books is Kabelwamanong, which has been lauded thus:

‘An action packed adventure that begins when a young cop, Tsheolo and
his two friends are hijacked and kidnapped. Their militant and
ruthless captors were from the neighboring country of Kgaphadiolo .
The intention was to use the three as Trojan horses against their own
country of Tsekanatsatsi. Tsheolo's friends do not come out alive.
Circumstances reduce Tsheolo to a refugee who is forced to do whatever
it takes in attempt to survive and to escape from that foreign land
(courtesy Puleng Hopper)

Pule Lechesa, South African author and critic who as a youngster and beyond was positively influenced by the prodigious works of Maphalla, said: 'It's the end of an era, a horrific loss. Maphalla was world class, consummately fecund,
vibrant and prolific. This hurts...in profound fashion,'

Lechesa has also authored a cardinal study (book) on Maphalla titled The
Awesome Literary Legacy of Dr KPD Maphalla . Here is how Google
Books describes the work: 'One thing that often depresses me about
African literature is that the works of many of its outstanding writers are completely unknown to the majority of readers in the continent especially when the writer puts pen to paper only in his or
her mother tongue. Eg how would Chinua Achebe’s name or works be known all over Africa and the world if he wrote only in his own Igbo language? I never knew anything about the writer, Dr Maphalla, until I saw and read this book (Maphalla writes in a South African language). But thanks to this superb study on Maphalla by the author Pule Lechesa, I now fully realise that Maphalla is one of Africa's greatest writers,’


SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY

Botsang lebitla by K. P. D Maphalla

Kgapha tsa ka by K. P. D Maphalla

Mahohodi by K. P. D Maphalla

Fuba sa ka by K. P. D Maphalla

Tahleho by K. P. D Maphalla

Tshiu tseo by K. P. D Maphalla

Kabelwamanong by K. P. D Maphalla

A tale of two fathers by K. P. D Maphalla

Ntekeletsane by K. P. D Maphalla

Dikano by K. P. D Maphalla( Book )

AFRICAN WRITERS ON AFRICAN WRITING. By G. D Killam

An early, fascinating, revealing book focusing on African Literature. The title itself says it all - virtually all the outstanding early African writers by the early 70s, are touched upon here.

These writers include Chinua Achebe, Ayi Kwei Armah, Camara Laye, Es'kia Mphahlele, Lewis Nkosi, Ngugi wa Thiong'o, JP Clark, Okara, Ousmane, and even Nadine Gordimer of South Africa.

Many - or most of these superb writers are deceased now, but their great works live on - eg Achebe, Okara, Laye. How poignant it is now to be reading the thoughts and inspiration of the then young writers like Camara Laye, Achebe himself, Sembene Ousmane, and many others.

Decades ago, Armah's first superb novel, The beautyful ones are not yet born, came out and somewhat shocked the world. Here we read the review and early impressions of Ama Atta Aidoo in this book... Aidoo herself is one of the great early African female writers.

The essays here are generally polished, informative and illuminating - Achebe has at least three essays published here, and I was particularly impressed with how perceptive and (fairly) critical David Rubadiri was even in those days decades ago.

Lewis Nkosi (now deceased) had a reputation - since he was a young man - of being an acerbic though informed literary critic. In his essay here on SA Black writers, he hardly praises them, in fact he seems to dismiss most of them. Even the all time great Es'kia Mphahlele is not spared. I winced e.g when I read Lewis' "introduction" to Mphahlele as a writer in this book:

"In the past what had always put me off Mphahlele' s writing was a certain dullness of tone, much like the ponderous speech of a dull-witted person, so that it was often difficult to pursue the story to its ending. The gems were often embedded in a thick mud of cliche and lustreless writing ... Ezekiel would reflect in (a) clumsy manner..."

Literary fireworks

- Raphael Mokoena

AYINLA OMOWURA

 

AYINLA OMOWURA:  Life and times of an Apala Legend

By Festus Adedayo

This type of work is gratifying - very gratifying; the kind of work that reinforces Nigeria as an exceedingly literate country replete with diverse intelligentsia, including adroit wordsmiths and chroniclers.

Ayinla Omowura was a hero and icon to millions especially in south-western Nigeria, despite his patent shortcomings comprehensively documented in this ground -breaking work. The fact is that we need superb biographies like this, and not only for record and scholarly purposes.

If I may digress a bit, a while back a colleague of mine patently lamented "the lack of books focusing on Nigerian icons and heroes.... I particularly hate the fact that many years after his death there is no book coming out on Sam Akpabot, flamboyant world-class musician and sports enthusiast ". I had the pleasure of pointing out to this gentleman that world-class works have been published on Akpabot, including the book written by Godwin Sadoh. The gentleman was shocked to learn this, and lamented that "more had to be done to publicise such works and make them available to mainstream readers"

He has a point. It is not enough just for some newspapers to touch on, review such books. A distinct effort must be made by the powers that be to ensure that such pertinent books are purchased by virtually all libraries across the land, and in as many schools and colleges and universities as possible...

A recent case in point (2020) is the excellent book on the late Abba Kyari put together by Magnus Onyibe. A repository of record purposes, without a doubt. But I squirm when so many educated people (who love to read) say they have never read, or even seen the book. So much more has to be done to make such "deliciously Nigerian" books available to much more people.

Also, by the way, this particular book on Ayinla is quite hefty, over 500 pages. Not many people on our shores will find it easy to go through the tome; but this is not necessarily negative. It just means that we should also focus on abbreviated versions of important books. From abroad we might mention 2 or 3 icons here: Charles Dickens, Winston Churchill, or even David Beckham. Scores of books have been published on these individuals, and though many of them are hefty, there are many other abbreviated or shorter versions published too. We can do that here in Africa too. Certainly most readers would appreciate a much shorter version of a book on Ayinla Omowura, the protagonist here.

But all the same, this book is superb in its own right. No doubt it is a labour of love on the part of the writer... they say every journalist should have at least one good book in him, and Festus Adedayo exceeds all expectations here, with elan and expertise. This is simply one of the greatest books ever put together on an African musician (it might even be the greatest). But that is the province and conjecture of pundits, not your simple reviewer here....hmmm.

- 'Eric'

A MASK DANCING. By Adewale Maja-Pearce

 LITERARY CRITICISM

What a work! A literary tour de force. This book encompasses robust intellectual eclectic criticism of major African writers over the decades.

No writer is spared, no matter their achievements or corpus of awesome works (only perhaps Wole Soyinka). The peerless Chinua Achebe does not come out too well, though the critic is only too aware of his global reputation.

Pearce inter alia writes: "But this is hardly surprising when one considers the paucity of his (Achebe's) understanding of the contemporary society he portrayed...". The great T M Aluko, and many others are criticised in this vein too.

The towering Ngugi wa Thiong'o? He "...has at least applied with characteristic thoroughness in his more recent work, with disastrous results"... and of course Okara's celebrated work, The Voice, is a "disaster " too. As for Ekwensi's Jagua Nana's Daughter, which many of us felt was vivid and thrilling, the critic assures us it is an "unmitigated disaster".


We wince when the exalted critic continually refers to the "inept prose/writing" or "appalling style/prose" of Africa's best writers, then he proceeds to quote such examples from their work. Alas, for we mere mortals such quotes often look superb and well written!

One would have thought that our critic would laud Ben Okri, who at barely 20 years old had already published two world class novels, Flowers and Shadows; and The landscapes Within. But though Pearce acknowledges the achievement of this (now) all time great writer, he still does not believe that the works are a "success", including Okri's The Famished Road, which won the prestigious Booker Award!

The impression one would finally get probably is that the critic here expects the very highest of literary standards and enjoys evaluating the best of African writing even if they always somewhat fall short as far as he is concerned!

- R. Mokoena