Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o is gone, but his words still speak
Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o is gone, but his words still speak By Kondwani Nyondo In African literature classrooms from Nairobi to Lilongwe, generations of students have turned the dog-eared pages of Weep Not, Child and Petals of Blood under the dim glow of campus bulbs. Now, with the passing of Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o at age 87, Africa has not merely lost a novelist—it will be burying a rebellion bound in pages, a resistance inked in Gikuyu and English, in pain and pride. Born James Ngugi in 1938 during Kenya’s colonial shadows, he would one day renounce both the language and the name forced upon him. In doing so, he birthed Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o—not just a name, but a literary fist raised against the empire. In Malawi, long before literary festivals found room for his name on their programs, Ngũgĩ was already at home in classrooms. His novels—Weep Not, Child, The River Between, A Grain of Wheat, Petals of Blood—were staples in secondary school English literature syllabi. His...