Books open our minds to who we are, what we could be
IT was with great humility and a deep sense of gratitude that I received the invitation to speak at this esteemed 27th edition of the Sunday Times Literary Awards. I am sincerely grateful to the Sunday Times and its partners for the privilege and for recognising the public protector as an important pillar of our democracy in the process.
The event honours the visionaries among us who help us see ourselves as we truly are, warts and all. Writers open our eyes to what we could be while transporting us to places we may never physically visit while impacting our values.
This makes literature, fictional or factual, an important factor in our socialisation as human beings and, accordingly, shaper of our world view or paradigm.
It is particularly fitting that these awards are in honour of two literary giants, Alan Paton and Barry Ronge. The two are among those who opened our eyes to our self-destructive realities at the time and to the possibilities regarding what we could be as a people.
They also paved the way for the ones we are here to honour for literary excellence.
A while ago I read an article that said that in ancient China the rulers paid poets and musicians to produce social commentaries alerting them to mistakes they were making to help them correct their ways and maintain the trust of their people. The work involved was delivered publicly, thus not only raising the awareness of the rulers to their mistakes but also involving the people.
In other words these rulers did not want to walk around as the proverbial emperors without clothes, spurred on by praise singers showering them with false praise about their non-existent beautiful garments. They wanted honest mirrors to help them identify their mistakes and timely correct them to maintain people’s trust.
These ancient rulers, I believe, understood that without trust, entrusted power cannot be exercised sustainably.
It is my considered view that the centrality of freedom of the media as part of freedom of expression has similar considerations regarding the need for the truth to be aired. The centrality of trust anchored in accountability through ongoing public dialogue is equally important.
We know, though, at the time the courageous Alan Paton wrote his works, including the seminal Cry the Beloved Country, the government of a country deeply steeped in trouble for injustice against the majority of its people, was irritated by voices such as his and made lives unbearable for such literary voices. It didn’t matter if their work was fiction or fact.
The regime of the time preferred lies to the truth and chose to cover or break rather than use mirrors.
Yet the courage of authors such as Paton made us see what we needed to see, question what we needed to question. For me, it was the works of literary greats prescribed at school in Swaziland that contributed to my social awakening.
Among them were Cry the Beloved Countr y and the works of Chinua Achebe, Alex Laguma, Andre Brink, Bessie Head, Herman Charles Bosman, Shakespeare and George Orwell’s Animal Farm. One of my favourite memories is Herman Charles Bosman’s social commentary on the irrationality of racism in the short story, Unto Dust, using black comedy involving a death incidence.
Later during my formative years, I was to benefit from the iconic Long Walk to Freedom of our peerless Nelson Mandela and Olive Schreiner’s Thoughts on South Africa. Incidentally these two and many of the others I mentioned earlier abhorred social injustice and undemocratic governance alike despite their disparate backgrounds, colour and gender.
We thank these literary pioneers for the courage to do what they thought needed to be done or said even if it meant going against the grain.
It is for the same kind of courage that we honour the work of writers today. They too have chosen to tell the stories they believe need to be told and views that need to be expressed for our society to progress.
In putting their work out there even if it may not reflect popular views or views accepted by the powers that be, these authors have unwittingly given permission for others to follow their consciences. For that we honour them.
I’m particularly encouraged by the fact that the shortlist reflects a growing diversity.
Not only do you write about your impressions of the society we live in, you also propose long-lasting solutions to our shortcomings. We would like to commend you and encourage you to keep up the excellent work.
I would like to congratulate the winners of this year’s Alan Paton and Barry Ronge awards, for non-fiction and fiction work respectively. In the view of the judges, your work has reflected “the illumination of truthfulness, especially those forms of it that are new, delicate, unfashionable and fly in the face of power; compassion; elegance of writing; and intellectual and moral integrity”.
That, in my opinion, is the hallmark of the timeless books I was fortunate to be exposed to by my teachers at Evelyn Baring High School in Swaziland. As these books did to me and my contemporaries, your books will open the minds of the present and future generations
We must also applaud the runnersup and all those who made the longlist. You too showed up and allowed yourselves to be seen and your views to be heard despite the risk of disapproval.
That for me takes enormous courage. Your work too will help us see ourselves as we are while opening up endless vistas regarding what we could be.
It will also contribute to the simple joy of reading, which transports us to places we may never physically visit.
All of you are, accordingly, winners. In the words of President Mandela, in his 1979 letter to Paton: “[This] shows that your labours have not been in vain, that in spite of persistent droughts and choking weed, you sowed on good ground.”