Praise God, but we really are atheists

A truth often untold is how writers are agnostics.

Now I am not here talking about the type of writers who are responsible for those motivational books also called self-help (if it’s self-help, could we possibly just be helping the authors in terms of sales, I wonder?).

Rather, I am talking of those other writers. The ones that write the type of books that are part of coursework at high schools and that are required reading before literature students at tertiary universities can get their degrees on their way to becoming language teachers.

My friend Wiki defines agnosticism as, and I quote, “the view that the truth of certain values — especially claims about the existence or non-existence of God, as well as other religious and metaphysical claims — are unknown and unknowable.” 

In South Africa then, writers would be accused of pulling a Zuma. Here in Kenya they should be accused of pulling a Kalonzo.

Pulling a Zuma, as defined by an editor friend of mine, Fikile, is, “talking about bread to bakers, talking about meat to butchers and talking about meat pies when in the presence of both butchers and bakers.” 

CONDITIONAL RELATIONSHIP

In other words, the ultimate fence sitters, writers don’t have the strength of their convictions like either theists or atheists.

Writers (this one included) just conveniently choose a side when it suits them. For instance, when a writer is debating someone quoting the Bible about, say, err homosexuality, a writer will dismiss them by citing separation of church and state. The said writer will quote the Constitution as being the supreme law of the land and not the Bible. She/he may even further question many things in the Holy Books thus aggravating whoever they are talking to unnecessarily all in the name of winning an argument.

However, there are instances where the writer seeks and acknowledges God.

Instances like when the said writer is expecting a royalty payment and is walking to an ATM: “Please, please, please, God, let there be money in my account.” Or when shortlisted for a prize: “I know Aminatta Forna’s novel is a better book than mine but please, please, God, I need the money, she doesn’t.  She stays in England and can go on welfare. I need it to pay school fees at a private school because our public education sucks. I need it to, err – you’re God. You know all my needs. Grant me this miracle.”

The writer’s relationship with God will depend entirely on the result of these prayers. If she/he gets what they are asking for, they will say under their breath, “thank you God,” but you will not see them joining Size 8 Reloaded in singing 'Mateke' at the next church service. If she/he does not get what they are asking for, err yup.

They go back to taking their Zuma stance or even downright claim to be atheists for a week or so.

The literary festivals on this continent have understood this. You will not attend Storymoja in Nairobi, Time of the Writer in Durban, Writivism in Kampala, Algiers Literary Festival or any of a string of literary festivals on this continent and have any event start with a prayer. Everywhere, it’s an unwritten rule to keep religion away from literary festivals.

Except in Nigeria, it seems. I was recently in Port Harcourt for a literary festival. The least religious part was the Opening Ceremony, which had Catholic Bishop Matthew Kukah as the guest of honour. Yes you read me right. That was the least religious part. Mostly because, I suppose, I arrived at the venue a little later than others and may have missed the opening prayer, but also because when the good bishop gave his speech, he focused on writing wrongs and making the country and the continent a more habitable place by refusing to be neither a corruptor or a corruptee.

It was one of those speeches that I imagine the Okullus, Muges and Gitaris gave back in the 1990s which made it possible for these men of the cloth to work with not particularly religious people in Moi’s Kenya.

MODEST WOMEN

But back to Port Harcourt and the religious literary festival. The talk from Bishop Kukah was, perhaps, the end of non-religion for the lot of African writers in attendance.

Thereafter, we encountered a lot of prayers. One that sticks to mind was the literature department at University of Port Harcourt. It all started with a prayer.

And ended with one as the Head of Department prayed that the writers gathered there would not be influenced by Western values. It filled many of us with bemusement.

Nigerian writer Lola Shoneyin — she of The Secret Lives of Baba Segi’s Wives — talked about her upcoming novel entitled Harlot.

That caused quite some discomfort in the audience of the young students and their lecturers. A young man, sounding very bothered, questioned why Shoneyin had the title it had. 

“It’s wrong. It’s not in keeping with our African values of women being modest,” the young man said with conviction. There was a collective gasp from the stage full of writers.

Agnostics

Between the prayers and questions, like the young man’s, though, I may somehow have understood why African writers may be agnostic. No artist wants anyone telling them what to write and how to write it and what agenda to push because writing is an art form and not a manifesto for some cause or other. On the other hand, writers also do need to believe there is a Supreme Being, for more reasons than the ones listed above.

For me as a football fan, a major reason I invoke the Supreme Being is so that S/He can control Kenya Power, ZESA, ESKOM, NEPA or any of our power companies from switching off electricity in my neighbourhood during Afcon or World Cup.

So, perhaps, it’s not such a bad thing to be a writer and Zuma/Kalonzo, after all.

In fact, it makes a lot of sense.

Zukiswa Wanner is a South African author living in Kenya. [email protected]