Kiswahili novelists tackle all the relevant themes

Enock Matundura’s whose striking, appropriate and pertinent lamentation, "Why Swahili literary critics should break their silence". He bemoans the unenviable role of Kiswahili literature playing second fiddle to English literature. However, like its English counterpart, the Kiswahili novel is alive and kicking. PHOTO | COURTESY

What you need to know:

  • From the works of these three authors, a majority of the African populace suffers from herd mentality. Africa looks incapable of breaking free from the clutches of the elite, hence the thriving of impunity, corruption, and poverty.
  • Has multipartyism brought with it the political, social and economic freedoms that so many Africans dreamt of? Is Africa too wretched to stand on its own feet after half a century of independence in many states?

Like a miner with a pick, a hammer and a shovel looking for precious pearls, I delved into the works of three latter-day Kiswahili authors to try to assuage Enock Matundura’s striking, appropriate and pertinent lamentation, "Why Swahili literary critics should break their silence".

Matundura bemoans the unenviable role of Kiswahili literature playing second fiddle to English literature. However, like its English counterpart, the Kiswahili novel is alive and kicking.

In Kula Kwa Mheshimiwa, Juma Namlola, a Kiswahili editor at Taifa Leo chronicles the socio-political state of Mlachake Constituency in Manusura State. It is a contemporary narrative that was a prelude to the 2013 general elections.

Namlola vividly portrays how politics and campaigns are channels of pauperisation among the electorate. In Mheshimiwa Apewe’s almanac, he will paint his antediluvian promises as the latest edict from heaven and anticipate a favourable outcome of the election.

He portrays an altruistic image with a false pledge of goodies. Education standards have dipped, insecurity has degenerated, and the roads are a nightmare.

Alex Ngure penned Utoro (escapism). It is a novel that examines salient social issues facing the fictitious nation Unguli. The two largest clans in Unguli are Warina and Wabruki.

CLAN UNITY

The political elite from both clans has ‘kidnapped’ the zeitgeist of the voiceless masses of Unguli. They have convinced their clansmen that they and their clans are one and the same; indistinguishable.

When one of their members is caught in a crime, Wanguli always seek refuge in their clan unity. Wanguli and Wabruki believe that the presidency is owned by a clan and must be sought through a group or parochial mentality.

After a tyrannical era and the curbing of corruption comes hope. It is a theme that runs in Tanzanian novelist Filipo GaoLubua’s book, Kilele Kiitwacho Uhuru. The story has the same undertones to Alex Ngure’s Utoro, where the political elite have kidnapped the spirit of the overwhelmed.

And just like in Namlola’s Kula Kwa Mheshimiwa, GaoLubua’s Kilele Kiitwcho Uhuru is a story of hope to people who have lived under archaic and inhibitory regimes.

Marumere blossomed economically with zero-tolerance to corruption when Mwalimu Gao ruled. But after his death, his philosophy and ideologies were replaced with political thuggery, poverty and environmental degradation.

In Kula Kwa Mheshimiwa, the theme of gender inequality is also addressed. Male chauvinism is played out by Mheshimiwa Apewe in his war of supremacy with Bi Majaliwa.

Apewe peddles the lie that a woman cannot become an Imam in a mosque or a padre in the Catholic church. Bi Majaliwa has to, therefore, endure being branded anti-tradition and anti-religious by the campaign machinery of Apewe.

In Alex Ngure’s Utoro, the avant-garde comes in the name of Judy, just like Bi Majaliwa in Namlola’s Kula Kwa Mheshimiwa, she is a brave leader who overcomes insurmountable odds to excel in the male-dominated Unguli government.

GENDER INEQUALITY

One can conclude that with Judy’s success, the inequality of the sexes is neither biologically given nor a divine decree but a cultural construct that has been universally perpetuated by the male chauvinist.

Namlola’s Kula Kwa Mheshimiwa also highlights the role of the media in furthering civil liberties. But unlike in GaoLubua’s Kilele Kiitwacho Uhuru, where the media is gagged and dead, the media in Namlola’s novel is active and vibrant.

From the works of these three authors, a majority of the African populace suffers from herd mentality. Africa looks incapable of breaking free from the clutches of the elite, hence the thriving of impunity, corruption, and poverty.

The familiar script of the clamour for the second liberation in GaoLubua’s fictional nation of Marumere is hinged on the clarion call Mapambazuko ni karibu (the dawn is nigh) while the climax is uhuru hatimaye tumefika (we’ve finally gained independence) when multipartyism took root.

But then again, has multipartyism brought with it the political, social and economic freedoms that so many Africans dreamt of? Is Africa too wretched to stand on its own feet after half a century of independence in many states?

And as Kenya cogwheels itself to another election, will the Bi Majaliwas, the Judys and the Masumbukos rise to the occasion and resolve the social ills facing this nation? We can only rest in hope or cringe in fear as we speculate the dawn of a new dispensation of a political, social and economic renaissance.