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Express Tribune
2 days ago
- General
- Express Tribune
Kenyan literary icon Ngugi wa Thiong'o dies aged 87
To pay homage to his heritage, Ngugi refused to write in English. Photo: File During his imprisonment, Kenyan author Ngugi wa Thiong'o decided he would never write in English again, a defiant move that helped put literature in African languages firmly on the map. Ngugi died at the age of 87 on Wednesday, his daughter announced on Facebook. "It is with a heavy heart that we announce the passing of our dad, Ngugi wa Thiong'o this Wednesday morning," wrote Wanjiku Wa Ngugi. "He lived a full life, fought a good fight." Widely regarded as east Africa's most influential writer, Ngugi sought to forge a body of literature reflecting the land and people from which he came, and not follow in the footsteps of Western tradition. "I believe so much in equality of languages. I am completely horrified by the hierarchy of languages," he told AFP in an interview in 2022 from California, where he lived in self-imposed exile. His decision in the 1970s to abandon English in favour of his native Kikuyu, as well as Kenya's national language Swahili, was met with widespread incomprehension at first. "We all thought he was mad... and brave at the same time," said Kenyan writer David Maillu. "We asked ourselves who would buy the books." Yet the bold choice built his reputation and turned him into an African literary landmark. The softly-spoken writer also lived a life as dramatic as his novels. His criticism of post-colonial Kenya – describing the violence of the political class and the newly rich as "the death of hopes, the death of dreams and the death of beauty" – brought him into frequent conflict with the authorities. 'Decolonising the mind' Born James Ngugi into a large peasant family in Kenya's central Limuru region on January 5, 1938, he spent the first 25 years of his life in what was then a British settler colony. His early works were heavily influenced by his country's battle against colonial rule and the brutal Mau Mau war of 1952-1960. In his first collection of essays, Homecoming, he described himself as a "stranger in his home country". But his anger would later extend to the inequalities of post-colonial Kenyan society, incurring the wrath of the government. In 1977, Ngugi and fellow writer Ngugi wa Mirii were jailed without charge after the staging of their play Ngaahika Ndeenda (I Will Marry When I Want). It was then that he decided to write his first novel in Kikuyu, Devil on the Cross, which was published in 1980. He had already abandoned his "English" name to become Ngugi wa Thiong'o. "I wrote it on the only paper available to me, which was toilet paper," he told US radio broadcaster NPR. Amnesty International named him a prisoner of conscience, before a global campaign secured his release from Kamiti Maximum Security Prison in December 1978. As early as 1965, Ngugi's novel The River Between embarked on a critical examination of the role of Christianity in an African setting. "If the white man's religion made you abandon a custom and then did not give you something else of equal value, you became lost," he wrote. He went into self-imposed exile in 1982 after a ban on theatre groups in Kenya, moving first to Britain then to the United States. When Ngugi returned home on a visit in 2004, he was mobbed by supporters at Nairobi's airport. "I have come back with an open mind, an open heart and open arms," he declared. Days later, he and his wife were attacked by armed men: she was raped and he was beaten up. It was not clear whether robbery was the sole motive or whether the assault was politically motivated. Margaretta wa Gacheru, a sociologist and former student of Ngugi, described him as a national icon. "To me he's like a Kenyan Tolstoy, in the sense of being a storyteller, in the sense of his love of the language and panoramic view of society, his description of the landscape of social relations, of class and class struggles," she said. afp
Daily Maverick
2 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).
Times of Oman
2 days ago
- General
- Times of Oman
Giant of African literature, Kenya's Ngugi wa Thiong'o dies aged 87
Nairobi: Kenyan writer Ngugi wa Thiong'o, considered one of the greats of African literature, passed away at the age of 87, a spokeswoman for his Nairobi publisher confirmed. Thiong'o, who died in the US state of Georgia, leaves behind a long legacy of critical works. Born in 1938 under British colonial rule, he lived in exile in Britain, before moving on to the United States. He only briefly returned to Kenya. An author and an academic, Thiong'o's works range from novels including "Weep Not, Child," to non-fiction including his much-acclaimed "Decolonising the Mind" - a collection of essays about the role of language in constructing national culture, history and identity. Thiong'o, who was tipped to win the Nobel Prize for Literature countless times, first wrote in English, before switching to his native Kikuyu, in a move that can be seen as part of his desire to decolonise culture.
IOL News
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- IOL News
Sad farewell to Kenya's Tolstoy
Kenyan writer and activist Ngugi wa Thiong'o died this week aged 87. Image: File During his imprisonment, Kenyan author Ngugi wa Thiong'o decided he would never write in English again, a defiant move that helped put literature in African languages firmly on the map. Ngugi died at the age of 87 on Wednesday, his daughter announced on Facebook. "It is with a heavy heart that we announce the passing of our dad, Ngugi wa Thiong'o this Wednesday morning," wrote Wanjiku Wa Ngugi. "He lived a full life, fought a good fight." Widely regarded as east Africa's most influential writer, Ngugi sought to forge a body of literature reflecting the land and people from which he came, and not follow in the footsteps of Western tradition. "I believe so much in equality of languages. I am completely horrified by the hierarchy of languages," he told AFP in an interview in 2022 from California, where he lived in self-imposed exile. His decision in the 1970s to abandon English in favour of his native Kikuyu, as well as Kenya's national language Swahili, was met with widespread incomprehension at first. "We all thought he was mad... and brave at the same time," said Kenyan writer David Maillu. "We asked ourselves who would buy the books." Video Player is loading. Play Video Play Unmute Current Time 0:00 / Duration -:- Loaded : 0% Stream Type LIVE Seek to live, currently behind live LIVE Remaining Time - 0:00 This is a modal window. Beginning of dialog window. Escape will cancel and close the window. Text Color White Black Red Green Blue Yellow Magenta Cyan Transparency Opaque Semi-Transparent Background Color Black White Red Green Blue Yellow Magenta Cyan Transparency Opaque Semi-Transparent Transparent Window Color Black White Red Green Blue Yellow Magenta Cyan Transparency Transparent Semi-Transparent Opaque Font Size 50% 75% 100% 125% 150% 175% 200% 300% 400% Text Edge Style None Raised Depressed Uniform Dropshadow Font Family Proportional Sans-Serif Monospace Sans-Serif Proportional Serif Monospace Serif Casual Script Small Caps Reset restore all settings to the default values Done Close Modal Dialog End of dialog window. Advertisement Next Stay Close ✕ Yet the bold choice built his reputation and turned him into an African literary landmark. The softly-spoken writer also lived a life as dramatic as his novels. His criticism of post-colonial Kenya - describing the violence of the political class and the newly rich as "the death of hopes, the death of dreams and the death of beauty" - brought him into frequent conflict with the authorities. Born James Ngugi into a large peasant family in Kenya's central Limuru region on January 5, 1938, he spent the first 25 years of his life in what was then a British settler colony. His early works were heavily influenced by his country's battle against colonial rule and the brutal Mau Mau war of 1952-1960. In his first collection of essays, "Homecoming", he described himself as a "stranger in his home country". But his anger would later extend to the inequalities of post-colonial Kenyan society, incurring the wrath of the government. In 1977, Ngugi and fellow writer Ngugi wa Mirii were jailed without charge after the staging of their play "Ngaahika Ndeenda" ("I Will Marry When I Want"). It was then that he decided to write his first novel in Kikuyu, "Devil on the Cross", which was published in 1980. He had already abandoned his "English" name to become Ngugi wa Thiong'o. "I wrote it on the only paper available to me, which was toilet paper," he told US radio broadcaster NPR. Amnesty International named him a prisoner of conscience, before a global campaign secured his release from Kamiti Maximum Security Prison in December 1978. As early as 1965, Ngugi's novel "The River Between" embarked on a critical examination of the role of Christianity in an African setting. "If the white man's religion made you abandon a custom and then did not give you something else of equal value, you became lost," he wrote. He went into self-imposed exile in 1982 after a ban on theatre groups in Kenya, moving first to Britain then to the United States. In 1986, he published one of his best-known works, "Decolonising the Mind", a collection of essays about the role of language in forging national culture, history and identity. When Ngugi returned home on a visit in 2004, he was mobbed by supporters at Nairobi's airport. "I have come back with an open mind, an open heart and open arms," he declared. Days later, he and his wife were attacked by armed men: she was raped and he was beaten up. It was not clear whether robbery was the sole motive or whether the assault was politically motivated. Margaretta wa Gacheru, a sociologist and former student of Ngugi, described him as a national icon. "To me he's like a Kenyan Tolstoy, in the sense of being a storyteller, in the sense of his love of the language and panoramic view of society, his description of the landscape of social relations, of class and class struggles," she said. In addition to fiction, the father-of-three, who became a professor of comparative literature at the University of California Irvine, also published essays and three memoirs.
The Star
2 days ago
- General
- The Star
Kenya's Ngugi wa Thiong'o, champion of African expression
During his imprisonment, Kenyan author Ngugi wa Thiong'o decided he would never write in English again, a defiant move that helped put literature in African languages firmly on the map. Ngugi died at the age of 87 on Wednesday, his daughter announced on Facebook. "It is with a heavy heart that we announce the passing of our dad, Ngugi wa Thiong'o this Wednesday morning," wrote Wanjiku Wa Ngugi. "He lived a full life, fought a good fight." Widely regarded as east Africa's most influential writer, Ngugi sought to forge a body of literature reflecting the land and people from which he came, and not follow in the footsteps of Western tradition. "I believe so much in equality of languages. I am completely horrified by the hierarchy of languages," he told AFP in an interview in 2022 from California, where he lived in self-imposed exile. His decision in the 1970s to abandon English in favour of his native Kikuyu, as well as Kenya's national language Swahili, was met with widespread incomprehension at first. "We all thought he was mad ... and brave at the same time," said Kenyan writer David Maillu. "We asked ourselves who would buy the books." Yet the bold choice built his reputation and turned him into an African literary landmark. The softly-spoken writer also lived a life as dramatic as his novels. His criticism of post-colonial Kenya - describing the violence of the political class and the newly rich as "the death of hopes, the death of dreams and the death of beauty" - brought him into frequent conflict with the authorities. 'Decolonising the mind' Born James Ngugi into a large peasant family in Kenya's central Limuru region on January 5, 1938, he spent the first 25 years of his life in what was then a British settler colony. His early works were heavily influenced by his country's battle against colonial rule and the brutal Mau Mau war of 1952-1960. In his first collection of essays, Homecoming, he described himself as a "stranger in his home country". But his anger would later extend to the inequalities of post-colonial Kenyan society, incurring the wrath of the government. In 1977, Ngugi and fellow writer Ngugi wa Mirii were jailed without charge after the staging of their play Ngaahika Ndeenda ( I Will Marry When I Want ). It was then that he decided to write his first novel in Kikuyu, Devil On The Cross, which was published in 1980. He had already abandoned his "English" name to become Ngugi wa Thiong'o. "I wrote it on the only paper available to me, which was toilet paper," he told US radio broadcaster NPR. Amnesty International named him a prisoner of conscience, before a global campaign secured his release from Kamiti Maximum Security Prison in December 1978. As early as 1965, Ngugi's novel The River Between embarked on a critical examination of the role of Christianity in an African setting. "If the white man's religion made you abandon a custom and then did not give you something else of equal value, you became lost," he wrote. He went into self-imposed exile in 1982 after a ban on theatre groups in Kenya, moving first to Britain then to the United States. In 1986, he published one of his best-known works, Decolonising The Mind, a collection of essays about the role of language in forging national culture, history and identity. 'A Kenyan Tolstoy' When Ngugi returned home on a visit in 2004, he was mobbed by supporters at Nairobi's airport. "I have come back with an open mind, an open heart and open arms," he declared. Days later, he and his wife were attacked by armed men: she was raped and he was beaten up. It was not clear whether robbery was the sole motive or whether the assault was politically motivated. Margaretta wa Gacheru, a sociologist and former student of Ngugi, described him as a national icon. "To me he's like a Kenyan Tolstoy, in the sense of being a storyteller, in the sense of his love of the language and panoramic view of society, his description of the landscape of social relations, of class and class struggles," she said. In addition to fiction, the father-of-three, who became a professor of comparative literature at the University of California Irvine, also published essays and three memoirs. His most recent book was the genre-defying novel-in-verse The Perfect Nine, which he translated into English in 2020. It recounted the founding of the Kikuyu people, blending folklore and allegory. From widening economic inequality to the lingering trauma of racism, the issues raised in the play still persist in Kenya and beyond, a fact not lost on its creator. "I am an activist, I want to see change," Ngugi told AFP. "I hope we can continue striving for that world. We cannot give up." - AFP
