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Daily Maverick
4 days ago
- Politics
- Daily Maverick
Weep Not, Child: A tribute to Africa's literary giant, Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o.
It was incredibly humbling standing in a congested gathering of people at the Wits Great Hall to hear 'greatness' lend its wisdom to receptive ears on the topic, Decolonising the Mind: Secure the Base, in March 2017. I had the privilege of attending the address when I was in my mid-twenties. The hairs on my arms stood on end and my internal voice said unto me, 'You are in the presence of greatness. Keep quiet and listen.' I attended with my mother and my uncle, her brother, both of whom self-identify as black in the broad Biko sense. I am racially ambiguous, though sometimes perceived as white. In that particular moment at his address, aware of being in the presence of greatness that stood on the shoulders of the deceased legends Aimé Cesaire and Franz Fanon, I really had no other response but to stand in awe and listen to a hero who (at the time) was very much alive. Greatness, the man who was Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o, received standing ovations and cheering on in African languages when he spoke. I remember his anecdote about middle and upper-class parents in Kenya calling their children to greet their guests, and pretending to look embarrassed that their children spoke only English. Meanwhile, they were secretly proud of that fact, as though it was a badge of honour, showing education and their class. It gave me food for thought about globalisation and the loss of indigenous culture through the loss of languages. What does it mean? Is it really true that in the age of technology, only English will get you to succeed, or shouldn't we be promoting many languages and getting technological apps to write and speak in these languages too? He, himself, practised what he preached when he gave up English in the 1970s and started writing in Kikuyu and kiSwahili. The legacy Ngũgĩ leaves for us and generations to follow Ngũgĩ was born in colonial Kenya in 1938 and died on Wednesday, 28 May 2025 at the age of 87. His daughter, Wanjiku Wa Ngũgĩ, announced his death on social media. She wrote, 'he lived a full life, fought a good fight'. Indeed, he fought a good fight – for justice, intellectual freedom and inquisition for Africa. Both my mother and I read his (English translated) works in our respective undergraduate years in our twenties. To this day, his discourse shapes our conversations, and I hope, one day, it will shape the conversations of my own children, whom I pray will be thinkers who will also hold reverence for the greatness of Ngũgĩ's works. Ngũgĩ's work, just as that of Cesaire and Fanon, holds legacy power. He stands as a revolutionary whose pen served as a weapon of resistance against injustice and illegitimate political power, a tool for decolonisation mobilisation, and a literary genius. Ngũgĩ's work redefined the boundaries of African languages and identities as limitless. He redefined the African 'post-colony' for all that it is and all that it has the potential to be. Ngũgĩ's work echoes the cries, the resilience, and the aspirations of a continent still healing from the scars of colonisation and empire. His call was never for Africans to claim victimhood and dwell therein, but to reclaim identity by decolonising our thinking, behaviours and daily practices. Secure the base, he said. Make Africa count. Through his novels, plays, essays and prison memoirs, Ngũgĩ's work challenges imperial power, questions inherited colonial structures and reimagines liberated, self-defining Africa. It embodies a radical vision for Africa defining itself on its own terms — politically, socially and linguistically. The chronology of his intellectual journey through his works stands as a larger political project aimed at dismantling colonial legacies and reimagining African identity from the inside out. That is, an Africa defined by its own people, not the superimposed Western narratives. Ngũgĩ's literary genius His debut novel, Weep Not, Child (1964), explores the Mau Mau uprising through the eyes of a young boy. This piece was the first novel in English written by a black East African. In Decolonising the Mind (1986), he poetically posits that 'the bullet was the means of the physical subjugation. Language was the means of the spiritual subjugation' and develops this thought through his central argument that language is the carrier of culture, memory and identity. When a people lose their language, he argues, they risk losing their ability to define their own reality. In The River Between (1965), a poetic and tragic tale of cultural conflict between Christianity and traditional beliefs in a Gĩkũyũ village, he pens 'a people without a history is like the wind over buffalo grass'. Various commentaries posit that in this metaphor, the wind represents the gale-like forces of colonialism and cultural imperialism, and buffalo grass, a plant that bends and yields to external pressure, represents a people without strong roots in their own history — easily swayed, easily displaced. Here, it stands to reason that Ngũgĩ's fundamental point is that people who do not know or affirm their history are at the mercy of external forces. Here, Ngũgĩ alerts us to the dangers of not being rooted in one's identity and being absorbed by the histories handed down about Africans, written by non-Africans. Of course, what he meant was we must write our own stories, in our own languages. His body of work collectively contemplates the ways by which history is not simply a record of the past — it is the foundation of a people's present dignity and future direction. Without an understanding of where one comes from, both individually and collectively, one becomes vulnerable to manipulation, alienation and erasure, he argued. In remembering Ngũgĩ and his legacy, it compels me to want to know more about my own history; to write down the stories, recipes and memories of my grandmothers and great aunts who are still alive (coming as they all do, and I do, from a diverse cultural and racial history of three continents: India, Africa, Europe).
Yahoo
27-02-2025
- Yahoo
Taylor teen builds ‘scent wall' for Taylor police K-9
The Taylor Police Department has a new tool to train its K-9 thanks to a borough teen. Nathan Thorp, 15, built a 'scent-detection wall' this month to help K-9 Biko, the Police Department's Belgian Malinois, and K-9 Officer Matthew McDonald hone Biko's ability to sniff out drugs. The Riverside High School freshman constructed the roughly 16-foot-long by 4-foot-tall wall for his Eagle Scout project — the highest rank attainable in the Boy Scouts of America — as a member of Scranton-based Boy Scout Troop 16. Nathan constructed the scent wall with some help from his dad, Stew, and volunteers from his troop. * Taylor K-9 police officer Matthew McDonald handles 4-year-old K-9 named Biko while he detects attempts to detect methamphetamine in the 'scent wall' in their Taylor training facility. (SEAN MCKEAG / STAFF PHOTOGRAPHER) * Taylor K-9 police officer Matthew McDonald plays with 4-year-old K-9 named Biko after detecting methamphetamine in the 'scent wall' at a training facility in Taylor Wednesday, Feb. 26, 2025. (SEAN MCKEAG / STAFF PHOTOGRAPHER) * Taylor police K-9 Biko plays with K-9 officer Matthew McDonald at a Taylor training facility Wednesday. (SEAN MCKEAG / STAFF PHOTOGRAPHER) * Taylor K-9 Biko detects drugs hidden in the scent wall during a training session with his handler Taylor Officer Matthew McDonald Wednesday. (SEAN MCKEAG / STAFF PHOTOGRAPHER) Show Caption 1 of 4 Taylor K-9 police officer Matthew McDonald handles 4-year-old K-9 named Biko while he detects attempts to detect methamphetamine in the 'scent wall' in their Taylor training facility. (SEAN MCKEAG / STAFF PHOTOGRAPHER) Expand With 18 holes in the wall connected with toilet flanges, the wall uses Y pipes where a K-9 handler can stash objects for the dog to find, Nathan said. 'The dog will just go to each and every hole and sniff at each one, and when he finds it, he'll stare at it,' he said. 'They think it's like a game because when they find it, they get a treat or they get a tennis ball for a little bit.' Nathan, who has been in the Boy Scouts since first grade, said the idea for the wall came after he attended a borough meeting for a merit badge. During the meeting, McDonald and Biko held a demonstration, and McDonald told Nathan's cubmaster that the department was looking to build a drug wall. 'I thought it'd be a great idea to do my project as that,' Nathan said. Building the wall took about two days, and once it was finished, Nathan and his dad mounted it inside a building at 360 S. Keyser Ave. that the Taylor Police Department uses for training. Police Chief Brian Holland commended Nathan's project, calling it helpful for not just Biko and McDonald but also their training group, which includes K-9 officers from the Scranton and Moosic police departments. The K-9 units are required to spend 16 hours per month training in order to maintain their certifications, and they frequently train together outside of those mandated hours, Holland said. 'They typically train in the Allentown area, so if there's a scheduling conflict or inclement weather or something that prevents them from going down there, they'll train here,' he said. 'Them having access to this is wonderful.' Police will use the wall to hide drugs in different locations for narcotics scent-detection training, Holland said. When McDonald spoke to the Boy Scouts about the project, he gave them plans for the wall and worked closely with them, Holland said. 'For us to also partner with an organization like the (Boy Scouts), it's exactly what we were hoping for,' he said. Biko, now 4 years old, arrived in the United States from Belgium in August 2022, becoming Taylor's first police dog in six years. Since then, Biko has been fantastic, Holland said. The Belgian Malinois, who was paid for entirely through community fundraising, has helped apprehend fugitives, carried out a significant number of drug searches and has aided in searches at schools and the federal U.S. Penitentiary at Canaan, Holland said. Biko also serves a role in community policing, with McDonald and his four-legged partner participating in Read Across America at Riverside and at Taylor's National Night Out, Holland said. Throughout 2024, Biko was deployed 44 times, with 37 drug detection deployments and seven patrol deployments, resulting in 29 arrests, according to a deployment summary provided by Holland. Last year, Biko worked with law enforcement from Taylor, Scranton, Dunmore, USP Canaan, Olyphant, Lackawanna County, Old Forge, Dickson City, Archbald, Carbondale, Jessup, Blakely, South Abington Twp. and the U.S. Marshals Service, according to the summary. Overall, McDonald and Biko's police work resulted in the seizure of 54.5 grams of methamphetamine, 10 grams of cocaine, 10 grams of heroin and 1 gram of marijuana; two firearms; 18 pieces of drug paraphernalia; and $2,500, according to the deployment statistics. Nathan, who's now in the home stretch to securing his Eagle Scout rank, said he's glad his project is able to help police and the community. 'I thought that this project would be very beneficial for the Police Department, our community,' he said. 'Keeping us safe.' To see McDonald and Biko use Nathan's scent wall, there will be a demonstration Sunday from 1 to 3 p.m. at 360 S. Keyser Ave., Taylor.
