Expressing freedom through language
In colonial Rhodesia the Literature Bureau determined the nature of literature to be consumed both in schools and the general readership. Therefore, although indigenous languages like Shona, Ndebele and Tonga could be used as an expression of liberation,
FICTION is an expression of a people’s yearnings, aspirations, desire for liberation in all its facets, cultural mores and values, and a quest for psychic catharsis. Hence, if artistes are inspired by their experiences and spurred on by the concerns of their own societies, then fiction will remain a true record of the obtaining issues prevailing at any given eon; past present or future.
However, as has always been observed, if literary works are a culmination of the prevailing governing institutions’ gatekeeping instincts, then the sensibilities that should be informing them will be utterly at fault.
Emmanuel M. Chiwome and Zifikile Mguni’s book “Zimbabwean Literature in African Languages: Crossing Language Boundaries” (2012) explores the liberating nature of language in its expression of a people’s way of life and the preservation of ethos. It advocates the use of indigenous African languages as the first step to decolonising the continent’s citizenry’s mindsets.
As observed by Furusa, “(a) search for language should be a search for collective wisdom and sensibility. It should be intended to bend the collective volition into harmony with the demands of social development” (Chiwome and Mguni (2012:40). This is especially so because “language embodies and is a vehicle of expressing cultural values” (Chinweuzu, et al, 1982:7).
Cultural ethos obtaining in African folklore, riddles, idioms and proverbs can only be aptly articulated through indigenous languages. Language is a powerful tool in the conveyance of a people’s values in their original form.
However, the aesthetics of language alone without an informed viewpoint on contemporary issues obtained in any pertinent society is void, as maintained by Nyagu (1990) when he says: “African Literature must communicate . . . Writing that is mere intellectualism is not for a country that is full of social ills and miserable poverty.”
An artiste worth his /her salt, therefore, should go beyond the celebration of language and capture the paralysis, malaise and stasis that weigh down on individual and societal expectations. He/she should guard against relegating his/her people to the doldrums of socio-economic idiocy by trivialising their suffering through language.
The norms and values passed from generation to generation through folklore can never be really ferried through alien languages. Colonisation brought its own problems on the African landscape, which can scantly be addressed using the same oppressive apparatus, which is the reason why the Kenyan writer, Ngugi wa Thiong’o vowed to stick to his native Gikuyu to hoist his country’s flag above the colonial banner, as a way of liberating his people.
Chiwome and Mguni’s book is divided into sections which highlight the different eons and languages under review. It really is an eye-opener not only to literary critics and writers but to those whose purpose of reading is not mastery.
The writers note in the preface to the book: “In the context of a former colony like Zimbabwe, literature can be viewed as a site of struggle. In this literary site of struggle, writers can either represent powers that oppress the masses or write from below in order to bring the people living on the margins closer to the centre.”
Suffice to say that the institutional is at ion of how reality can be perceived is baneful to the freedom of literary expression. Writers as “truth’s defence” should be the voices of the gagged, feeble and vulnerable.
In colonial Rhodesia the Literature Bureau determined the nature of literature to be consumed both in schools and the general readership. Therefore, although indigenous languages like Shona, Ndebele and Tonga could be used as an expression of liberation, they were skewed to serve the interests of the oppressor, who controlled the printing presses. The desire to see one’s work in print triumphed at the expense of creativity, which compromised the body of literary works produced, and as a result relegated the hopes and aspirations of the oppressed people of colour to the periphery of existence.
The Literature Bureau as a creation of the colonial governments of Rhodesia since 1954 was at the centre of “the Zimbabwean people’s hopes, their true and false starts on their journey to liberation, greater self-awareness and fulfilment” (Furusa, 1994:125). A perusal through the early publications in both Shona and Ndebele put paid to this assertion.
According to Chiwome and Mguni (2012) Solomon Mutswairo’s “Feso” (1956) only saw the light of day after the “offending” first chapter, which deplored the displacement of Africans from fertile lands, was removed.
Bernard Chidzero’s “Nzvengamutsvairo” (1957) taps into Shona orature and merges it with missionary teachings as a strategy to hoodwink Africans to accept the new tide brought by colonialism. Social progress is only made possible by creating interfaces of harmony between the Africans and whites; yet at the same time Africans are expected to disown their own cultural mores.
Other books by Catholic priests like Patrick Chakaipa, Emmanuel Ribeiro and Ignatius Zvarevashe were also “intended to gain more converts”. This rationale obtains in books like, “Dzasukwa Mwana Asina Hembe” (1967), “Garandichauya” (1963), “Muchadura” (1967), “Rudo Ibofu” (1961), “Kurauone” (1976) and “Gonawapotera” (1976). These books did not only find their way in the school curricula in Rhodesia but even after independence in 1980.
It is the government, therefore, that determines the nature of knowledge to be consumed and because of this, issues that really affect the generality of the populace might not be explored.
African countries, though independent from the colonial yoke, are still at the mercy of the erstwhile colonisers, who sponsor the publication of books that advance their own interests; with promises of awards and international readership.
African traditions have been subjected to immense pressure from colonisation and technological advancements. The Tonga people, for instance, had their own songs and folklores, which were directly linked to the Zambezi Valley - their cherished abode before the Kariba Dam flooded their area. Their resentment of the displacement from the life-source they had known for generations cannot be fully articulated in any other language besides their own.
The improvement of their lot through the dam remains a pipedream years after its construction, yet their association with the river basin as embraced in their folkloric songs and folklore remains painfully imbedded in their hearts; although they have lost appeal to those who did not experience the golden times. So in a way they have been robbed of their freedom and no form of compensation will placate them.