Out of Africa

If you’ve checked out my blogroll, you would have already had the chance to browse some pretty cool, or at least interesting, blogs written by Africans and/or about Africa.

When I decided to begin this blog, I knew that covering every thing Africa would be close to impossible. The most I could do is offer a glimpse, and some perspective, on some of the issues African face — on and off the continent.

The blogs in my blogroll, and some of the ones below, I feel, do the same. While they could never act as the sole source of African news, issues, lifestyle, etc., they can offer a glimpse into the lives of Africans.

Here’s a list of some newer blogs I recently found (some are also on my blogroll):

• Interested in African music? Check out Awesome Tapes from Africa. Updated regularly enough, you can check out actual cassette tapes from various African countries. The blogger offers reviews of sorts, as well as music clippings from each tape.
• Texas? Africa? Baptist? All three describe me more or less. And they describe this blogger, who is from Texas and is working on her dissertation about the Democratic Republic of Congo. Similar to this blog, it aggregates news on Africa and provides some personal insight on issues in the US (and how the connect to Africa) as well.
• Reuters is the place to go for business news. And while they have a really good Africa section, they also have an Africa blog. Get some insight into African business, politics and lifestyle.
• Ravished Hearts: Getting the Word Out About AIDS. The disease is killing Africa’s future. Need I say more?
• I want to be a journalist, so this blog caught my eye. Focused on sub-Saharan Africa, this reporter tells recaps many of the stories he “regrets” happened in Africa. Provides historical context, as well as a view into the future.
• Thoughts on Africa: Blog that aggregates news, info about Africa and refugees.

On Tuesday, I had the opportunity to meet Somalian author Nuruddin Farah. I had spoken to him Monday with plans to interview him for a possible profile piece I wanted to write. He sounded willing enough, and had promised to call me when he arrived in Evanston. He didn’t. And I forgot it was Tuesday and had to rush from downtown Chicago to Evanston within an hour to make it to the event. Anyway … here’s a recap of my encounter with him:

I felt my face turn red and my eyes begin to sting with unbidden tears. I had just walked up to Nuruddin Farah, book in hand, nervous smile on my face, excited to introduce myself. Only to hear these words come from his mouth: “Don’t you know it’s unethical to film someone without their permission?”Taken aback, I immediately begin to defend myself. “Well, I was the one who spoke to you yesterday on the phone –“

“You didn’t say you’d be filming,” he interrupted, his tone harsh. I imagine this is the same voice he uses to chastise his unruly grandchildren, if he were to have any. I felt like I had just been sent to the corner.

Again I tried to explain.

“Well, I had asked her if it were okay,” I said, pointing to the community relations person of the bookstore. I was hoping her authority would save me from his wrath – I could be off punishment. Instead, almost like an older sister evading punishment herself, the lady shifts all blame on me.

She didn’t give me permission. She said it was okay only if he was okay with it. She was under the impression he gave me permission earlier.

She was new to the store, and was unsure of the legal implications of what I had done

But what had I done? It was a public event in a public store. And it was for a news story, not commercial use. And I at least had the courtesy to clear it with a store official first. As far as my meager, but still existent, professional and ethical training had taught me … I had done what I was supposed to do.

I tried to explain again. But both continued interrupting and talking over me. I was at fault. No excuses mattered. Miscommunication led to miscommunication.

“You can use the footage,” he eventually says. “And you can start your story with how I told you off.”

I thanked him and walked away. But I couldn’t help fuming – partially embarrassed, partially upset, partially just plain mad – as I thought about it all.

They had no clue how my day was before this. They didn’t know I had spent over three hours covering closing arguments of a court case. They didn’t know I thought he was speaking tomorrow and not today.

They didn’t know in thinking that, I had given my camera to someone else to use. And while I was able to procure another, they didn’t know the battery was dead, and there was no tape. They didn’t know I caught the first train I could and practically ran to the store under the weight of my laptop bag, huge purse, camera bag and camera stand.

They didn’t know how tired I was, how far I was willing to go to get this opportunity.

An opportunity I had lost. Because he thought I was unethical.

I could hear them still talking about me as I packed up. Farah continued to talk about my “unethical-ness.” The lady continued to throw me under the bus, in order to save herself. I could feel my face getting hotter, the tears getting stronger.

Eventually I made my way back to the pair, who had thankfully moved on to talking about other things.

“I won’t use the footage,” I said. “I wasn’t trying to confuse anyone or cause any misunderstanding. Or look like I was trying to mislead you.”

“No, no. Use it,” he said. “It’s alright. Just know for the future.” His voice was softer now, but still bearing the slight coldness from his voice of steel. He again states why he found it unethical and then drops the bombshell that made me feel even worse:

“I had come thirty minutes early so you could interview me. But you weren’t here.” His tone wasn’t exactly accusatory, but it wasn’t forgiving either.

Thirty minutes early? Thirty minutes early!?!? I could have gotten such a great interview in that amount of time!

I wasn’t sure who to be mad at more. Him, for not calling me back as he promised. Or myself, for not calling him when I hadn’t heard back from him. But again, I thought I had another day … and I had just spent the day at court. I wouldn’t have been there thirty minutes early, even if I had known. I guess it was meant to be.

I nodded, and said my goodbyes. My heart was as heavy as all the bags I carried with me.

The footage was now tainted, as far as I was concerned. Even with his permission, his reaction and the lady’s lack of support drained it of any value it had to me. It wasn’t going to be any good without the personal interview anyway.

While my experience with Farah was less than pleasant, he was a good speaker and a lot of others enjoyed the chance to meet and talk to him. Here’s another attendant’s take on it.  He goes into a lot more detail about what Farah had to say and how the event went.

This year marks the 50th anniversary of Chinua Achebe’s “Things Fall Apart.” The book is hailed as the beginning of modern African literature. Chinua Achebe, hailed as the father of African literature.

There have been a lot of good interviews, articles, conferences and ceremonies, honoring the legacy both Achebe and his book has created for African writers.

The following is an interview with Evan Mwangi, an English professor at Northwestern University, who teaches African literature (and is from Kenya) about the beginnings of modern African literature, its evolution and how Achebe’s “Things Fall Apart” fits into it all.

Audio

Interview Transcription

Bunmi Ishola: We can kind of start out sort of with the history of African literature; where it all started out.

Evan Mwangi: The major books in African literature started in the 1950s. They started writing in the 1950s, and they did not make as much impact as “Things Fall Apart,” which was published in 1958. And so it ["Things Fall Apart"] became like the benchmark of African literature. And mainly, all these novels, were mainly a response to what the writers felt were distortions and misrepresentations of Africa by Western writers. [Achebe has said that he wrote "Things Fall Apart" to Joseph Conrad's "Heart of Darkness," and to books written by colonial masters like Mr. Johnson].

BI: Do you think, in a sense, that the book deserved to be the benchmark?

EM: Yes, the book is very well written. Achebe also has a very balanced view of both the Europeans and Africa. Those [older novels written by the West] would idealize colonial Africa as a perfect, romantic place. But Achebe views Africa from a much more objective position. So that he’s criticizing the pre-colonial culture, as much as he’s criticizing colonialism for some of the bad things that happened in Africa.

BI: And after this book was published, what was the development of Africa literature?

EM: Almost all the major authors in Africa wrote their versions of “Things Fall Apart.” So that, almost every country had a “Things Fall Apart;” again, talking about the contact between Europeans and African cultures, and the controversies that arose out of that. The writers persisted in talking about the pre-colonial past way into the 1960s. But later, in the late 1960s, they started talking about the disillusionment with post-independence condition. And mainly what I think they are doing by going back to pre-colonial past is trying to let African know that they have beautiful culture, that they need to preserve their culture. They should have confidence in themselves as a society.

BI: More recently there have been a lot of writers of African descent just coming up lately. I’ve noticed many of the ones that are getting the most remarks [Chris Abani, Chimamanda Adichie, Sefi Atta, Helon Habila] are from Nigerian. I don’t know if you have any theories as to why?

EM: Most likely it’s because of the exile. [In] Nigeria, military dictatorship has been really bad. So writers have been able to go to exile. It happened in the apartheid era too. There were a lot of writers operating in exile. And that’s why there’s a very strong Nigerian diasporic writing, I guess. I think, the reason that Nigeria is so prominent in African Diasporic writing could be because of the economic and political circumstances. If you remember, people like Chris Abani have been jailed. Yeah, he was jailed by Sani Abacha.

BI: I know, for both, at least, Abani and Adichie, they mentioned that Achebe had a lot of influence on the reasons why they write now, and even they way they choose to write. What do you see some of these influences being, and why do you think he is such a strong influence? 

EM: I think it is mainly the emphasis on the thematic relevance of the texts. Like when you read Adichie, she’s very sensitive to the politics of Nigeria. Even if she’s writing, like in [Half of a Yellow Sun], she’s writing about Nigeria of the 1960s, she’s commenting about the present. Just the way Achebe, still, when he’s talking about pre-colonial past — he’s not so much interested in romanticizing that past, he’s commenting about the present-day Nigeria. So, to say, the level of themes, and making sure they [newer African/Nigerian writers] are relevant to their communities, they have followed in the footsteps of Achebe. But they are also changing, they are not just imitating Achebe slavishly. Like Adichie forgrots gender a lot, in a way you may not find in Achebe. Even Chris Abani; issues of gender and sexuality are very prominent in his writing. So they use Achebe, just the way Achebe used the past — in a critical way.   

BI: Where do you see African literature going in the future?

EM: That’s a tough question. But, I think it’s growing. There are people who seem to see African literature as maybe off. Mainly because the kind of writers they see published in the West, they seem to be addressing Western audience as opposed to the African readers. So that this literature becomes part of the West, and the literature in Africa dies off. But I think there are very strong literary traditions in almost all regions of Africa. I think the literature is very good, and it’s going to be talking about issues to do with the Diaspora, issues to do with gender and sexuality. Literature that maybe the Achebe generation may not have been very much interested in.

Since independence, and actually even before, African countries have suffered in the department of good leadership. For the first two decades, and sometimes even more, “big men” have controlled the continent, caring more about filling their pockets than serving their citizens.In this opinion piece, Thandika Mkandawire looks at the theft of votes and the unethical ways these “big men” leaders take away real democracy from their countries’ people.

Democracy means rule of the demos, although it does not say exactly who the “demos” is. Many African leaders have exploited this lacuna, taking the prerogative to define the demos as that which ensures their re-election. This approach to choosing voters entails the introduction of criteria to exclude certain individuals or groups.

Giving examples from Zambia, Malawi, and Zaire (Democratic Republic of Congo), it’s a well-written, and deep analysis of what’s wrong with democracy in Africa. In the end, her conclusion:

The problem in Africa is perhaps not so much how we choose our leaders, but what importance our leaders attach to the people’s choices.

 In Turkish Weekly, of all places, there is another opinion piece about “The Myth of the ‘Failed State’ in Africa.” 

Regional instability, armed conflict, ethnic/tribal/religious clashes, indebtedness, hunger, poverty, (reemerging) diseases, environmental degradation, underdevelopment… These are just a few references produced to ‘comprehend’ the current state of affairs in sub-Saharan Africa. They have been discursively presented and thus perceived as ‘natural’ and ‘internal’ problems or even ‘inherent’ characteristics of the continent.

The author see this definition of developing countries as simply a way, or an excuse, for non-developing countries to come in and intervene. “State failure” does not take into account historical and social conditions in these countries that “fail.” The writer really pushes the need to analyze the individual cases on the continent, instead of “mythically” representing them all as failed states.

Revealing this very mythical representation of failed states is a vital job in order to provide more substantial and enduring solutions for the ‘failures’ of those states.

The piece is a little “academic,” but is also a good analysis of the political situations in Africa and how we can look at them.

An interview with Nigerian author Chinedu Ogoke.

… African literature has really not qualified to ride in the same vehicle as say American literary studies or English literary studies. This is not far removed from the prestige that accompanies these literatures and cultures. In the English and Linguistics departments the closest students may come to anything African is the encounter with the name Nnamdi Azikiwe in Langston Hughes’ poems, or Onwuchekwa Jemie’s work on Langston Hughes, all in African American Studies. In which case, Jemie’s and Azikiwe’s roots are lost. In the library, Chinua Achebe’s and Wole Soyinka’s books may lie below an often visited book, the latter hardly noticed. Their literary status here is hardly diminished, for they are well represented in people’s leisure time, especially in the hands of people desirous of good literature. Ken Saro-Wiwa is the most prominent personality.

“Yes We Can!”

That’s the motto, chant, or whatever you want to call it, of Barack Obama’s presidential campaign.

And a lot of Africans believe that “Yes, they can!” too … as it shows in songs created by the continent’s musicians.

“Yes, We Can” sounds the same in Luo as it does in English.

Here are some examples:

• Cameroonian ex-pat Fojeba, copied the Black Eyed Peas and splices excerpts from a speech over a Makossa rhythm:
  

• Here’s Ghana’s Blakk Rasta’s “Barak Obama Crunk,” the song mostly warns Obama to mind his safety, because there are racists out there:

• Kenya’s Tony Nyadundo song “Obama”

Oh, and not only is Barack Obama making it into Pan-African music … he’s infiltrating other parts of culture too:

The gap between America’s high-minded rhetoric and its historical, breathtaking insensitivity towards Africans and African-Americans has been a source of disenchantment for millions … Suffice it to say that John Kerry never had a beer named after him, whereas Obama is exalted in every hop and grain in Senator, a frothy and occasionally lethal substance sold cheaply in the slums of Nairobi. And John McCain, Hillary Clinton be damned. They’re already calling it President.

One of my last posts questioned whether or not the U.S. held any responsibility for the refugees they bring in, making sure they acclimated and survived in this new environment and culture. Here’s another story talking about some of the struggles of African immigrants (primarily refugees).

So the U.S. has a list of “terror groups” that are basically blacklisted, in terms of our involvement with them, immigration rights, and all that jazz. Also, it’s considered illegal for Americans to even communicate with terrorist groups.

Well, if you’ve spoken to anyone who is/was a member of South Africa’s African National Congress (former president Nelson Mandela’s party), you’ve committed a crime.

Today (Thursday), the U.S. House of Representatives adopted a bill to remove the ANC from the terrorist blacklist. They’ve been on this list for over 20 years, since the legislation went into play in the 1980s.

Crazy, yeah?  

The bill was passed unanimously, as many Representatives had to say the following:

… the legislation introduced during the 1980s while Ronald Reagan was president is anachronistic and wrongfully labels as terrorists men and women who are heroes and freedom fighters.

US Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice said:

“… it is really a rather embarrassing matter that I still have to waive in my own counterpart, the foreign minister of South Africa, not to mention the great leader Nelson Mandela.”

… now that’s what I’m talking about.

Nigeria’s House of Reps failed to pass a Freedom of Information bill recently. It’s the FIFTH time this bill has failed to pass since it was first written and introduced.

What’s the big deal?

If the bill is passed the media finally can dig into the past of Nigeria’s corrupt law makers and politicians … letting it all hang out there. We wouldn’t want that now, would we?

Here’s a blog post from African Loft, which links to stories from Nigerian papers about the failure of this bill and what it means for the country.

With recent arrests of journalists, and the fact that most African countries (e.g. Somalia, listed as the worst country in the world for journalists) struggle with creating free presses, is this one more sign that African can’t expect a REAL free press any time soon? Will free press only be a mirage?