Tuesday, 19 June 2012

African Autobiography: The Journey to Identity

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            African Autobiographies constitute an incredible and exciting genre that gives important and enlightening insights into African society and culture. From Antije Krog’s “Country of My Skull” to Sindiwe Magona’s “To My Children’s Children,” African autobiographies provide fascinating and unique perspectives on the author’s journey to gain identity.  Whether it’s Sindiwe Magona’s dynamic experience with religion, Antije Krog’s development in her womanhood, or the great impact of Wole Soyinka’s family on his development, these timeless life-stories open the gateway to the soul of each author and take readers on an incredible journey.  Though the works vary greatly, all include many stories revealing the process of the authors maturing and becoming solid and confident in who they are as their environments sculpt and mold them, forming their identities.

            Religious experience formed a very important part of each of these writer’s lives and is reflected in their books. Whether it’s Sindiwe Magona’s return to her beliefs in a crisis (156), Antije Krog’s inspiration from Christians around her (209), or Shiri Maraire’s powerful description of the kindling of her faith (181), the spiritual influenced the steps of each of these authors in a variety of ways. Leigh Gilmore, in her writings on women’s expression in autobiography, stated on the formation of beliefs and religious development, “Autobiography names the repeated invocation of an ideological formation that comes to seem natural-that is, in the simplest terms, that autobiography is what men write, and what women write belongs to some “homelier” and minor traditions (Gilmore 2).” In these lines, Gilmore captures the significance of beliefs as the writers of these works constantly reiterate, whether voluntarily or involuntarily, their worldviews as they incorporate their ideologies into their books.

            One of the most powerful kind of exposure to the spiritual is when an ordinarily doubtful individual is, through a crisis or harrowing situation, brought back to the beliefs he or she grew up with; such is the case with Sindiwe Magona. In her younger years, Sindiwe tended to look on Christianity through a critical and often hostile lens (Magona 106). In the first chapter, she states that Sundays were “subdued sorry dull days in which the possibility of any fun was effectively erased (Magona 13).” She also accuses Christians of being “condemnatory and judgmental: a group that finds it very difficult to forgive the frailty of others (Magona 106).” Looking back on church, she states, “ The reluctant memories of Sundays that I carry are as uninspiring as the singing I suffered through (Magona 14).” and, “If I learnt anything in church, it was how certainly I was doomed to burn in hell (14).” Later in the book, after Sindiwe has become pregnant out of wedlock, she speaks of the missionaries’ vain ignorance of sex in their education, stating, “Natural urges refused to succumb to civilization or Christianity (Magona 97).” Finally, at her wit’s end, without money, food, or hope, Sindiwe turns to the church in desperation, and there, after praying, receives strength from God and returns to her home with a new resolve (Magona 156). Thus, after many years of rejecting Christianity, Sindiwe finally gains back her faith and moves on with the strength that only God can give.

            No less enlightening is Wole Soyinka’s interaction with religion. Soyinka writes about a situation in which the local religion is a complete hybrid as Christian beliefs mix with the Yoruba ways (Soyinka 9). One of Wole’s quotes excellently sums up the confusion of his family’s hybridized beliefs when he says, after telling a story about an egungun who used his powers to destroy a church (Soyinka 9), “Perhaps this was what Wild Christian meant by faith, and this tended to confuse things because, after all, the egungun did make the church building collapse. Wild Christian made no attempt to explain how that happened, so that feat tended to be of the same order of faith which moved mountains or enabled Wild Christian to pour ground nut oil into a bottle from a broad-rimmed bowl without spilling a drop (Soyinka 9).” Another of Wole’s encounters with the supernatural is when his mother tells him of his uncle Sanya who was an oro (Soyinka 9). In one of her stories about Sanya, he became feverishly ill through what was believed to be the an evil spirit that would have killed him if not for the intervention of a Christian friend of the family who quickly had them make a large dinner and leave it with Sanya to sate the spirit’s appetite (Soyinka 10-11). Wole Soyinka’s bewilderment at religion is not surprising as he attempts to forge a stable identity in a culture where beliefs are so mixed that a completely new and distinctive belief system is created.

            Antije Krog, though not appearing to be a very religious person, is greatly influenced by the acts of the Christian people around her (Krog 209). Throughout “Country of My Skull,” the works of Bishop Desmond Tutu have a profound affect, not only on the proceedings of the Truth Commission (Krog 201), but on Krog, herself, as he is a constant symbol of steadfast faith amidst a chaotic tempest brought on by the horrors of Apartheid (201). Regarding his actions in the Truth Commission, Krog sums her view on Tutu, saying, “ Whatever role others might play, it is Tutu who is the compass (Krog 201).” Finally, after Tutu is taken to the hospital for cancer tests (Krog 202), she states, “This wonderful man in whose presence I always experience humanity at its fullest-humanity as it was meant to be. This man who has made sense for us of the tortuous process of dealing with the truth by illuminating it with insight, humor, and hope (203).” Ultimately, Krog’s development, as it related to religion, is furthered when she interviews Joe Mamasela, a notorious perpetrator of crimes under the Apartheid regime (Krog 226). During their interview, Mamasela talks about his faith and reconciliation with God, despite his sins and how he has become an active member of the church and is even bringing in new converts (Krog 227). It is easily apparent that Krog’s exposure to Christianity had a powerful effect on her as she absorbed the radiance of God’s love through the faithful around her.

            Finally, Shiri Maraire had many encounters with religious beliefs that significantly influenced her worldview. In the majority of her book, Shiri keeps her beliefs in the background. Though she attends church and makes references to God on a number of occasions, it is not till much later that her faith is finally rekindled when, after a trip to see relatives, Shiri goes to a chapel where her life is changed forever (Maraire 181). “I stopped in my tracks, too. I had been to thousands of glorious cathedrals and churches abroad with spiraling towers and Gothic proportions, yet none struck me as beautiful as this humble little chapel. Never had I seen black angels (Maraire 181).” She then says, “I looked away so you wouldn’t see the tears in my eyes. Inside, too, was full of Africans: John the Baptist, standing dark and strong in the river, blessing and preaching to the masses; Moses with his long white beard looked a little like Babamukuru, with his wide nose flaring, and the curls of his Afro looked as if they had a life of their own as he put fourth God’s commandments. Then there was the scene that caused me to sit in the nearest pew and gaze in wonder. There was Jesus Christ Himself, with wavy black hair, skin of brown earth, and deep clay eyes that looked down at me with such a pitying smile. They seemed to say, Where have you been? I have been here all this time waiting for you (Mararie182).” and, “There was God Himself in my own image and not the image of my oppressors. I dropped to my knees. Here was the God I had been searching for. Not the Teutonic God that I had been told to worship for all of these years at missionary schools. Who had deprived me of this vision? This God knew me. His cross was my cross. His people were my people, Mary, Joseph, Peter, Mark, and John-all black like me (182)!” After this powerful incident, Shiri’s worldview is changed as she goes on with life bearing a new faith that guides her steps (Maraire 183).

            Another part of African writings that makes them so unique is their attitude toward their own nations and societies. Many Africans lived in situations where their cultures were mixed with Western traditions through colonialism and, thus, their feelings toward their cultures are very distinctive.

            Sindiwe Magona’s Perspective toward South African traditions, unlike her Christian faith, which undergoes a long process of development, remains uncertain as some of the Xhosa ways are rejected while others are embraced. Though she fondly looks back upon nights listening to iintsomi and stories from Xhosa folklore (Magona 5), her other experiences, among them being the dreaded incisions, in which a witch doctor repeatedly cut her and her brother in order to allow evil to seep out (53), prevent her from positively reflecting on her encounters with traditional Xhosa beliefs. However, despite her negative view on some of the more bizarre and painful parts of Xhosa tradition, she happily embraces many of the rituals her family enacts. For instance, the scraping of the pot, an activity in which an elder family member scratched a pot over a fire to find out how many suitors the person in question would have based on the number of sparks that flew from the metal (Magona 6), is looked back upon with a longing for those days of childish simplicity. Sindiwe also writes about her rite of passage, an experience that solidified her transition to adulthood, which entailed her traveling with her father to a farm to purchase a heifer (Magona 62) that was slaughtered and, subsequently prepared for a feast to celebrate Sindiwe’s maturing (64). During the exciting evening, the women of her clan impart their advice to Sindiwe, saying, “My child, a good daughter pleases the parents. Your parents are very proud of you, Mind never to disgrace the Magona name. Mind never to disgrace the Tolo clan. Remember, a good wife is like a good daughter to a husband. She is also like a loving mother to him. We are all proud of you. Continue with school and learn so that when we are old, we will have someone who can help us; someone to lean on (Magona 64).” The Xhosa traditions, though containing some unsavory practices, were an influential part of Sindiwe’s life and aided her immeasurably in becoming confident in herself and her abilities to succeed.

            “Ake: The Years of Childhood” shows another culture of Arica that plays a pivotal role in guiding a young person’s process of maturing. Wole grew up in an environment where Yoruba tradition mingled with modern Western technology leading to odd variations between the two. For instance, Soyinka writes about the different medications ranging from roots and other mysterious items sold by witches and modern medication that came in “neatly labeled bottles (43),” saying, “Often, both forms of remedies were administered together, or took turns from day to day (43).” The disciplinary style of the culture that Wole was raised in also showed a distinctly African side as small crimes are harshly punished with heavy beatings (92) while especially heinous deeds warrant humiliating parades (87). In one especially horrifying example, a local sixteen-year-old girl is herded around town by her mother with her sleeping mat on her head as she informs the entire populace of the village of her daughter’s bed-wetting habit (Soyinka 87). The power of these disciplinary techniques, though they proved to be affective in fostering obedience in children, seems trivial compared to another event. It was not long before Wole was to enter Government College (Soyinka 142) when his father invited a witch doctor in the middle of the night to prepare Wole for his great undertaking (145). After receiving instructions to from his father to remain silent, Wole is approached by the witch doctor who, taking a knife coated in a mysterious substance, begins slashing Wole’s wrists and ankles in a painful ritual that proves to be a symbol of Wole’s coming of age (Soyinka 146). Following this, his father tells him of the benefits of the incisions, among them, the power that he will always win his third fight, no matter how tough the opponent (Soyinka 148). An extract from Ruth Lindeborg’s dissertation on the politics in “Ake: The Years of Childhood” gives a clear perspective on how culture affected Wole when she states, “Engendered by the communal mother of the women’s march and the patriarchal words of Daodu, the principle of Abeokuta Grammar School, the Wole born at the end of “Ake” is both individual and community in confrontation with African and European symbols of imperial rule (Lindeborg 55). This elaborates the mixture of cultures as Wole is influenced by the community-focused efforts of his mother while his father endears him to a more individual way of life, making Wole into a unique hybrid who reflects the different facets of his own culture. Ultimately, the society in Ake, though confusing, provided an excellent environment in which Wole flourished and matured into manhood.

            Antije Krog experienced a culture in turmoil as the people of South Africa were left to pick up the pieces left by Apartheid and rebuild a nation. From the beginning, the Truth Commission was plagued by technical problems (Krog 14), conflict (6), and painful accounts that put great mental stress on all parties involved (51). The scars of racism refused to be forgotten as they held their dying influence with a lasting power. A number of quotes capture the racist taint of this period. In one instance, Krog’s brother says, “ When Mandela was talking about white and black morality, how whites only care when whites die, he should have added: blacks don’t care if whites die… but what is worse, they also don’t care if blacks die (Krog 17).” Later, a friend of Krog’s says, in response to Krog’s question of the definition of lying,  “I don’t know. But what I do know is that I grew up with the notion that stealing from whites is actually not stealing. Way back, Africans had no concept of stealing other than taking cattle as a means of contesting power. But you whiteys came and accused us of stealing-while at that very same minute you were stealing everything from us (Krog 18)!” All of the chaos of the Truth Commission became an defining part of Krog’s life as it is reflected in her jerky, confusing, and aptly fitting writing-style that truly capture the proceedings of the Commission and turns the work into something much more immersive than the average collection of memoirs.

            Autobiographies from Africa possess very unique ideals of womanhood as the authors each share their distinctive perspective on, in some cases, themselves as women and the other important female family members and friends who had powerful affects on their development.

            On the subject of womanhood, “Ake: The Years of Childhood” sets the standard as Wole’s portrait of the female ideal is one of great strength and endurance (Soyinka 193). It quickly becomes clear to the reader that Wole’s mother is a very independent soul as she manages her own shop (Soyinka 29) and is revered among the other women of the village as they seek advice and wisdom from her (87). Much later, Wild Christian and her women’s group begin to make decisions that summon the winds of change and bring about a cultural shift that illustrates the power of women in influencing their society (Soyinka 180). First, the group decides to begin teaching other women to read and write at the suggestion of Daodu, a frequent visitor to the women’s meetings, when he says, “Do you know the real trouble with aroso? They are illiterate. They don’t know how to read or write, that is why they get exploited (Soyinka 181).” After this, the women go a step further by deciding to rebel against the oppressive measures being taken to tax them (Soyinka 183). Printing leaflets (198) and giving speeches (185), the women’s revolution against taxes continues to escalate in intensity until, finally, the women go to the Alake and Wild Christian confronts him, saying, “Kabiyesi, over this matter, I wish to implore you to reflect very carefully. Very carefully. The women are saying, No more taxes. It is no time to begin asking whether taxation began with our forefathers or not. Our women today, those women we meet every day, they are the ones we are talking about. They cannot afford the tax (209).” Despite the good intentions of all the women, violence erupts and Wild Christian shows her courage and values when she protects one of the ogboni despite all of the oppression of his kind and speaks to the mob of women wanting to take him, saying, “I don’t know this man, one of you can go inside and ask him. At the most, I only know two or three ogboni, so don’t think I am protecting him because he is my ibatan. But I do not like trouble, I don’t like all this violence. It is not what we set out to do (Soyinka 215).” “Ake: The Years of Childhood” has a vision of womanhood that exhibits fearless tenacity and a belief in the power to change one’s own destiny, while holding to one’s ideals with an unrivaled strength, making Wole Soyinka’s writings both insightful and unique.

            Sindiwe Magona also had distinctive experiences as she came to accept her identity as a woman and mother. In one instance she looks back upon her self-conscious feelings of inferiority and ugliness when she quotes a devastating conversation she had with her well-meaning father, in which he said, “When you were born, I took one look at you and fled behind the hut (Magona 76).” Though haunted by this incident throughout her adolescence, all feelings of unappealing looks are dispelled by the advent of her relationship with Luthando (75), a young man whom she describes as being “tall, well-built, and strikingly good-looking (75).” Moreover, Sindiwe states the impact of Luthando on her self-worth saying, “I was no longer in doubt about my femininity or desirability (76).” Later, when Sindiwe is working as a maid, she speaks of the encouragement she received from the other women who rode the same bus as her, saying, “The configurations vary, but the basic ingredients are the same: on bus or train, the passengers traveling daily on the same route begin to group themselves. In these informal structures, the domestic workers air their grievances, share strategies, joke about a starkly harsh and brutal work environment, and console one another; thus fortified, they advance to tackle their individual loads (Magona 128).” Through this reinforcement and the combined efforts of aunt Dathini’s constant encouragement and optimism (Magona 146) and her mother’s loving support (105), Sindiwe survives her hardships and finds her peace, saying in the book’s last lines, “By now I understood that I was part of the stream of life-a continuous flow of those who are still alive, and the spirits, our ancestors. I knew I would never be alone. Know this too, child of the child of my child…you are not alone (Magona 167).”  Thus, after much struggle, Sindiwe, through the support of the women around her, finds her way and gains strength in her womanhood as she imparts her timeless revelation on to her granddaughter.
           
Shiri Maraire’s accounts of her influential family members of the female gender shows women who are intelligent, headstrong, and tenacious. Throughout the book, wise words are bestowed upon Shiri by her mother (Maraire 39) and other women (43). For instance, she speaks of a time when her mother stated after Shiri had told her that she intended to take her mother on an exciting journey to see the world, “Your words are your deeds. There is no place in a woman’s world for your foolish fancies (Maraire 39),” aptly illustrating the cultural situation in Africa in which women comprised an invaluable part of daily life as they took on the many of the roles traditionally associated with men, such as working the family farms (13) and entering the military in which Shiri describes them, saying, “They were women of a new generation who wore trousers like men and could aim just as steady (168),” and, “These women, too, fashioned their own identity. They were feared and admired, for in battle, it was rumored that the women could be the fiercest of them all. The Rhodesians called them bobcats because the Shona women were as fierce as lions (169).” In another part of the book, on the eve of her wedding, Shiri is visited by her mother-in-law to-be who makes Shiri feel her wrinkled face, saying, “These are the marks of life. My face, just as it is, the map of my toils and joys, is as precious to me as your little waist and your rounded breasts are to you. This is a testimony of the love I have given to my family. There is not a mark here that is my own. It belongs to Baba va Tapiwa, Chipo, Farai, Tawona, and Ziyanai. It is a body of love. You see it as an old, dry, lifeless thing, but one day you will understand that each beauty has its season (Maraire 43).” And later she continues, stating, “ You will make my son happy, I know, and you will be a daughter we can be proud of (Maraire 45).” These moving testimonies to the strength of the women in Shiri’s life are both powerful and touching, lending an inspiring tone to the work.

Shiri also writes about the women who failed to meet their potential and instead descended into mediocrity. In one case, Mukoma Byron, Shiri’s westernized cousin, brings his wife to Rhodesia (Maraire 51). Shiri immediately labels Mukoma’s wife, the wisp (Maraire 52) and describes her, saying, “She was nervous and wore long flowery dresses that matched her complexion and hung on her in a flimsy, shapeless way, like clothes pinned on the line to dry (56).” She also becomes disgusted by the woman’s weakness through a number of situations. For instance, Mukoma asks Shiri to summon his mother, who is very ill, so his frail wife doesn’t have to suffer “the strain and fatigue of the rural areas (Maraire 54).” She later describes the woman’s “layers of sunscreen and creams that lay in her armamentarium against infection and injury (Maraire 62).” In another part of the book, she recalls how during her teenage years, a woman named Rudo often came to their house to seek safety from her abusive husband (Maraire 170). After Rudo goes home following one of her “visits,” Shiri’s sister, Linda, launches into a verbal assault on the shamefulness of Rudo, saying, “Sisi Rudo can get up and leave that beast. Instead, she fixes herself up every Sunday to pray for strength to endure his blows. Then she comes her every month to snivel all night and get a clean bath (Maraire 172-173), and after some discussion, “Yes, thank God I still have a heart. It is Sisi Rudo who has lost hers. She has given up hope and become helpless. She is a disgrace to all women (174).” This harsh statement from Linda precisely exemplifies the concept of the African woman in Shiri’s view, who does not bend her knee to circumstances and instead makes her own path.

            Though “Country of My Skull” bears an acute deficiency of warmth and beauty amidst a sea of evil, Antije Krog does show her feminine side in a number of rare instances, chiefly among them when her husband tells her, “ You always return to me… and I never recover from you (Krog 357).” She then describes her own feelings, writing, “My bones catch fire. I grab his slippery wrist. My skin will never forget him, my first love (Krog 358).” Krog also describes her exposure to the brave testimonies of women at the Truth Commission: a pivotal experience in her search for self-identity (Krog 235). Thenjiese Nthintso, the chairperson of the Gender Commission, states as the women’s hearings begin, “ As women speak, they speak for us who are too cowardly to speak. They speak for us who are too owned by pain to speak (235).” Thus, emphasizing the courage exhibited by the many female victims of the evil of in South Africa under Apartheid. Later, Krog tells of the shortage of testimonies from rape victims due to the terrible psychological circumstances of these victims of abuse (Krog 239). However, a number of brave women stand up for the sake of justice and to expose the wickedness of their captors to the world despite the terrifying intimidation of telling incidents of such an intimate nature (Krog 236). One story in particular, shows a woman’s kindness and compassion that remain unbroken by the unthinkable horrors they are exposed to (Krog 245). Deborah Matshoba, after undergoing severe beatings (Krog 244), a lice-filled cell (244), and food that defied the definition of disgusting (245), tells the commission of how she broke through the hard shell of her wardress when, after hearing a tear-filled exchange between the woman and her boyfriend she refused to leave her cell until the woman agreed to talk to her, saying, “I heard your boyfriend saying that he is going to Kaitmo Mulilu and you will not see him for a long time. Who is he going to fight there? You see, you are in the same position as me. He is going to die at the border and it’s my brothers and sisters who will kill him. Maryna, why do you allow that (245)?”After this, the two talk and encourage one another (Krog 245), showing a woman’s ability to find the nobler side of herself despite the indefinably harsh situations that strip people of their humanity. After saying this, Krog describes the power of Deborah’s testimony, “The Truth Commission venue is silent. No one wants to interrupt this story of the power of women who care, endlessly. The moment surpasses all horror and abuse (Krog 245).” This account’s rendering of silence on the Truth Commission reveals the power of women during its proceedings and leaves a lasting imprint on Krog as she moves on, inspired in her womanhood.

Truly, the autobiographies that have come from Africa are a great credit to African literature as a whole and to the genre of autobiography.  No matter whether it’s Krog’s jerky-yet-effective style involving flashback and the switching of perspectives, Wole Soyinka’s innocent memories of childhood that allow the reader to experience his sense of wonder and curiosity at the world around him, or Sindiwe Magona’s development through “losses, lacks, and lapses,” each book shows a similar pattern of development in the authors as factors surrounding them shape and model them into something completely unique. These honest accounts possess a powerful effect as they show universal truths of identity that have great relevance to the reader, no matter what his background. Their personal and often intimate styles allow for the complete immersion of the reader in the separate worlds of Sindiwe Magona, Antije Krog, Wole Soyinka, and J. Nozipo Maraire, all of whom are masters at conveying their amazing life experiences in styles that are personally fitting and emotionally driven.




Works Cited

Magona Sindiwe. “To My Children’s Children.” Northampton, Massachusetts:
            Interlink Books, 2006.

Krog Antije. “Country of My Skull.” New York:
            Three Rivers Press, 1998.


Soyinka Wole. “Ake: The Years of Childhood.” New York:
            Vintage International, 1981.

Maraire J. Nozipo. “Zenzele: A Letter for My Daughter.” New York:
            Dell Publishing, 1996.

Lindeborg, R.H. “Is this Guerrilla Warfare?: The nature and strategies of the political subject in Wole Soyinka’s Ake.” Research in African Literatures 21(4),                          Winter 1990:55
           

Gilmore, Leigh.“Autobiographies: A Feminist Theory of Women’s Self-Representation. Ithaca and London: Cornel University Press, 1990.

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