Connect with us

Insight

Women writers in their own words

Published

on

In 1990, Adeola James, a Nigerian born scholar of literature, and then based at the University of Guyana, published a book carrying interviews with various women writers who had become prominent in African literature by that time.

Adeola held a no holds barred discussion with Ama Ata Aidoo, Zaynab Alkali, Buchi Emecheta, Pamela Kola, Ellen Kuzwayo, Muthoni Likimani, Molara Ogundipe-Leslie, Penina Muhando, Micere Mugo, Rebecca Njau, Flora Nwapa, Joyce Ochieng, Asenath Odaga, Ifeoma Okoye and Zulu Sofala. Adeola James captures these women’s views in their very own voices; on almost all the major issues in African literature.

The book, first published by Heinemann in Nairobi, is a must read for those who have a keen interest in women’s literature in Africa. Asked on the African writer’s dilemma of trying to reach a wider audience, versus the need to write in African languages, Ama Ata Aidoo says that she worries a lot about writing in English, a language “that is not accessible to our people.”

Aidoo says she is acutely aware that “writing in English makes it possible for me or any African writer to communicate with other people throughout the continent who share their colonial language….I have not pretended to myself that I have an answer.

I have also thought that, whilst one is aware of the language issue as big, it is better for a writer to write in English, than not to write at all.”  Then on the question of whether the African woman writer is muted or not, Ama Ata Aidoo says the question of the African woman writer being muted has to do with the position of women in society in general.

She feels that African women writers are just receiving the general neglect and disregard that women in the larger society receives. Aidoo says she understands the concern that in African Literature maybe there is no woman writer who has risen to the stature of Achebe or Ngugi or Soyinka.

She indicates that this could be because the assessment of a writer’s work is in the hands of critics and it is they who put writers on pedestals or sweep them under the carpet.

Then Adeola James puts to Aidoo: “Do you see any distinction in the way male and female African writers choose their themes and thrusts? Aidoo responds: “I think, as a woman writer, you approach issues from your position in life, in society, in history as a woman.

Now, as to whether the result of that position is saying things that are different from how a man would say or select them, that is a question that the critics ought to answer.”

Then Aidoo is drawn to the observation that her central characters in all her literature tend to be very strong women. “Does she create them that way consciously because she is also a woman writer herself?” To that, she says, “I think that is natural.

When a man wakes up in the morning, he sees a man when he looks in the mirror. So if it is natural for male writers to create male central characters, then it should be natural for me, a woman writer, to create female central characters. In that respect there has been a conscious decision.

I am aware of the whole debate about wanting to write about women, but I would have written about women anyway.” Ama Ata Aidoo, author, poet, playwright and short story writer, was born in Ghana in 1942.

She began her literary career by winning a prize in a short story competition organised by Ibadan’s Mbari Club, a famous cultural workshop of the early 1960’s in Nigeria. Her published works include two plays, The Dilemma of a Ghost and Anowa, a collection of short stories, No Sweetness Here; a novel, Our Sister Killjoy and a collection of poetry, Someone Talking to Sometime. Ama Ata Aidoo is one of the best known African women writers, a recognition that she deserves.

Adeola James also speaks to Buchi Emecheta. Along with other stalwarts like Ama ata Aidoo, Bessie Head and Flora Nwapa, Emecheta has helped redress the somewhat one sided pictured of African women that has been created by male writers. Some of her works include household titles like In the Ditch, Second Class Citizen, The Bride Prize, The Slave Girl, The Joys of Motherhood, Destination Biafra, Naira Power and others.

On being asked exactly what in her personal life and background is responsible for her becoming a writer, Emecheta says, rather controversially, that she decided to become a writer after visiting her village of origin rather late in life where she discovers and becomes influenced by the story telling acumen of the African women in that village as they peeled egusi or plaiting one another’s hair.

“I liked the power these women commanded as story tellers,” Emecheta says. She continues, “Since then I thought I would like to be a story teller myself. But, unfortunately I cannot write stories in my own language…so I have to write in English. On top of that we marry very early in my own area, so by the time I was twenty two I already had five children and the marriage had broken up…”

When asked if coming to England has made a difference in her life as a writer, Buchi Emecheta says that being in England helped a great deal because England has taught her not to pretend as a human being and writer!

And Emecheta adds, controversially too, “In Nigeria women are riddled with hypocrisy, you learn to say what you don’t feel. You learn not to laugh or not to laugh too loudly… I think this (English) society gives you that freedom of outlook. Don’t forget, also, that my vehicle is the English language and staying in this society, working in it, you master the nuances.”

Buchi Emecheta is hard hitting on Africa and Nigeria in her praise of English society as she goes on to say, “Writing coming from Nigeria, from Africa (I know this because my son does the criticism) sounds quite stilted. After reading the first page, you tell yourself that you are plodding.

But when you are reading the same thing written by an English person or somebody who lives here (England) you find you are enjoying yourself because the language is so academic, so perfect. Even if you remove the cover, you can always say who is an African writer…”

On being asked who exactly she writes for, Buchi Emecheta says she writes for anybody who can read. She also complains that most literature that comes out of Africa is sadly about colonialism and its effects yet many African countries have been independent for decades.

She thinks that alone is a negative thing and that the African writers must start to “write about ourselves.”  When asked about the difference between the ways in which male and female African writers handle themes, character and situation, Emecheta says, the difference is not only in language “but also in the fact that female writers handle female characters more sympathetically than men.”

Then Emecheta attacks Achebe: “The good woman in Achebe’s portrayal is the one who kneels down and drinks the dregs after her husband. In the Arrow of God (by Achebe), when the husband is beating his wife, the other women just stand around saying, ‘It’s enough, it’s enough.”

Born in 1944 in Lagos to parents from eastern Nigeria, Buchi Emecheta received her education in Lagos up to secondary level and later studied Sociology at the University of London. She died in January 2017.

Adeola James also speaks to South African writer, Ellen Kuzwayo who was born in South Africa and received her education in South Africa. Kuzwayo came into writing with the publication of Call me a Woman, her autobiography.

The book pays tribute to many unacknowledged heroic women and is about the suffering of black people under apartheid in South Africa. Kuzwayo has also helped make two films: Awake from Mourning and Tsiamelo.

Kuzwayo says she thinks that South African artists have preferred drama to writing “because their feelings come out much more on stage. I think they feel the tension so much that they cannot discipline themselves to sit down and write. So they come in a group and they are full of tension and they want to say it now.

A book takes too long. And they want to sing it, they want to dramatise it and they want to be very angry on the stage.” Ellen Kuzwayo also says at a personal level, she finds writing very fulfilling. She admits to having led a life with lots of emotional pain because her first marriage broke, her son was taken away from her, her aunt sent her away from home and suddenly when she writes, all these things she wrote about and “the tension floated into the pen and it has released me.” She died in 2006.

Adeola James’ interview with Kenyan writer, Penina Muhando reveals a unique case in African literature. Having written a lot in Kiswahili and being a household name in her country, Muhando is, strangely, not invited to international conferences.

Recognition has come more to people in her country who have written fewer books in English. It is a common dilemma with big names in African writing who have, however, not written in European languages.

About this kind of exclusion, Muhando says, “I really wish I could write in a language which everybody would understand. But I think it is a question of your immediate audience…I feel I am writing for a Tanzanian audience first and foremost, because I am dealing with problems which are relevant to the Tanzanian audience.

So it is only after the writing that I could think of the audience beyond Tanzania.” Muhando says although her plays are well known across Tanzania, she has sometimes considered translating them so that they are read outside Tanzania but the problem is that she “would rather work on a new play than translate those that are already published.”

Muhando also thinks that the reason why many writers in Africa generally don’t get well known has many angles: “We know who has the power to distribute the materials, and they have the choice as to what material they want to distribute…but you only see few names such as Soyinka, Ngugi, Achebe and so on…in a way those who have the power to distribute continue to use their own criteria for promoting the people they want for their own purposes.”

Asked if she agrees with the opinion that African women writers should be responsible first and foremost to women, Muhando says, “I wouldn’t say first and foremost… I do argue very strongly that the woman issue cannot be separated from the overall problems, since women cannot be separated from the rest of society.

I believe that the liberation of the woman has to be part of the liberation of society itself. Every problem that affects the woman also affects the society at large. In my plays I like to present something which is relevant to both men and women, even if it is specifically a woman’s issue.”

Asked if there is a difference in which male and female African writers handle female characters, Muhando says, “I have a general feeling that men writers are much more careless when it comes to portraying women. I feel that they do reflect their behaviour towards the women in their own lives.

I am not saying, however, that all women writers are conscious or that they write about women more positively. But I think that the negative orientation of the male writer comes out much more clearly.”
Penina Muhando was born in Tanzania in 1948. She is committed to writing plays that are directly concerned with social and developmental problems as the titles of her plays indicate: Hatia (Guilt); Tambuene Haki Zetu (Recognise our Rights); Heshima Yangu (My Respect); Pambo (Decoration); Talaka si mke wangu (Woman I Divorce you); Nguzo mama (Mother Pillar) and many others. By the time of the interview in Dar-es-Salaam in 1986, she was the Head of the Department of Theatre Arts at the University of Dar-es-Salaam.

Adeola James asks penetrating questions. Her book allows the often muffled African women writers to talk to us directly about the key issues in African literature written by women.

Memory Chirere

Continue Reading
Click to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Advertisement
Advertisement

Trending

Copyright © 2022. The Post Newspaper. All Rights Reserved