How I met a literary queen and my message to writers

Do you want to know what I will be doing when I am 91 years old? Well, I will tell you.

That will be in 2035, just five years beyond “Vision 2030.” What I will be doing is exactly what Muthoni Likimani is doing right now. First, however, let me come out with the advice that I forgot to pass on to the young writers at the Goethe Institut’s Literary Discourse on October 21, in Nairobi. It is simply this: Please endeavour to write as much in Kiswahili as in English. We will talk about it in some detail later, but let us not miss any opportunity to share it, and to put it in practice.

It was actually Muthoni Likimani that accidentally reminded me that I had forgotten to share the Kiswahili plea with the authors. She spoke after me, and in her remarks she, persuasively, suggested that the women writers of East Africa should revive the cooperation they used to have in the good old days of the original East African Community.

Now you know the rest: Kiswahili and my unending East African song. I feel grateful to Muthoni Likimani, who also set me thinking about what I should be doing at age 91.

This utterly surprising lady, who recently embarked on her 91st year of life, sprang a date on me earlier this week and I am still reeling from the insights she gave me into the nature of the life of an utterly committed writer. In other words, Muthoni successfully seduced me and all I desire now is to emulate her as best I can.

Muthoni is writing. She is vividly passionate about life and vitally concerned about the state and the future of our society. She is also meticulously rigorous about the literary quality of her writing. Her invitation to me was couched in tantalisingly warm and humble language.

“I would be very grateful,” she wrote, “if you can spare me a few minutes to explain to you what I have been doing. I have just finished writing a very serious book and I would like to talk to you about it.”

Now, can you blame me if I go about bragging and boasting about being seduced by such a “treat”? Who was I that this grand dame of East African history, society and literature, whom I have admired all my adult life, should want to “share” with me?

I should also tell you that I will now be more regular at those literary gatherings at the Goethe Institut, as they offer such rare opportunities for creative encounters. They are intended mainly for young writers not only to listen to leading writers in dialogue but also to interact with them and with one another. But the discourses have also become such an established part of Nairobi’s literary circuit that they attract significant audiences, including literary gurus.

FIRST ENCOUNTER

At the latest one, for example, the Kenyatta-Prize winning author, Elizabeth Kabui, was sharing with Ugandan Hilda Twongyeirwe, a founder member of FEMRITE (Uganda Women Writers Association) and its current Director. But it was also graced by the presence of such figures as Khainga O’Okwemba, who chaired the proceedings, my Bakoki Chris Wanjala, AMKA founder patron Lydia Gaitirira and Muthoni Likimani.

I was there mainly because, as I keep boasting, I, too, am a founding member of FEMRITE, and I was eager to see how my sister Hilda would perform. It all turned out to be a lively and inspiring evening but the cream of it for me was the rare opportunity it gave me to interact up close with Muthoni Likimani, whom I have been reading since my late 20s.

It was, however, not our first encounter. I had met her briefly at the University of Western Illinois in the US, where we held the African Literature Association annual conference in 2008. She was then in the company of another literary heavyweight, Wangui wa Goro, the main translator of Ngugi wa Thiong’o’s early Gikuyu works.

But the conference environment, with hundreds, if not thousands, of literati demanding or attracting attention, was not conducive to the proper tète-á-tète I wanted with Muthoni. So, you can imagine my pleasure and surprise when, after we reconnected at the Goethe, she actually dropped me that note, suggesting that we should meet and have a chat about her current writing.

Anyway, that is how I came to spend the better part of last Monday in the company of this amazing author, whose titles include Shangazi na Watoto, What Does a Man Want?, Passbook Number F.47927, They Shall be Chastised and Fighting Without Ceasing, her autobiography.

Passbook Number F.47927 has been widely acclaimed, as it portrays the oft-ignored Kenyan women’s role in the anti-colonial liberation struggle. The title is a reference to Muthoni’s own kipande, (the colonial style identity card for African urban dwellers). But the autobiography is also particularly fascinating, brimming with lively and fluent narratives, and a stunning selection of photographs of Muthoni’s colourful life as a vicar’s daughter, student, broadcaster, doctor’s wife, film actress and public figure.

About her current work, and especially the “very serious book” that she is just about completing, we will write in due course. All I can say for now is that it is a startling insight into and indictment of the inhumanity of our society.

I think it is the American novelist Ernest Hemingway who said something to the effect that the duty of the writer is to survive, be tough and write. This is what Muthoni Likimani is delightfully animating in all her beautiful writing and living.  It is just what I would like to be doing in my nineties and beyond.