AFRICAN LITERATURE
❖ There are 54 nations which make up Africa. Each of these
separate countries have their own history, culture, tribes,
and traditions. With that being said, there are some
commonalities shared by literature which comes from the
continent as a whole.
❖ Defining African literature can be complicated. There are
some authors who believe African literature can only be
composed in African languages. Others believe African
literature can be composed in any language so long as it is
composed by authors from Africa.
❖ African literature consists of a body of work in different
languages and various genres, ranging from oral literature
to literature written in colonial languages (French, Portuguese, and English).
❖ Oral literature, including stories, dramas, riddles, histories, myths, songs, proverbs, and
other expressions, is frequently employed to educate and entertain children. Oral histories,
myths, and proverbs additionally serve to remind whole communities of their ancestors'
heroic deeds, their past, and the precedents for their customs and traditions. Essential to
oral literature is a concern for presentation and oratory. Folktale tellers use call-response
techniques. A griot (praise singer) will accompany a narrative with music.
❖ Some of the first African writings to gain attention in the West were
the poignant slave narratives. Since the early 19th century writers from
western Africa have used newspapers to air their views. Several founded
newspapers that served as vehicles for expressing nascent nationalist
feelings.
❖ Africa experienced several hardships in its long history which left
an impact on the themes of its literature. One hardship which led to many
others is that of colonization. Colonization is when people leave their
country and settle in another land, often one which is already inhabited.
The problem with colonization is when the incoming people exploit the
indigenous people and the resources of the inhabited land.
❖ Colonization led to slavery. Millions of African people were enslaved and brought to
Western countries around the world from the sixteenth to nineteenth centuries. This
spreading of African people, largely against their will, is called the African Diaspora.
❖ After World War II, as Africans began demanding their independence, more African writers
were published. The writers written in European languages, and often they shared the
same themes: the clash between indigenous and colonial cultures, condemnation of
European suppression, pride in the African past, and hope for the continent's independent
future.
How is everything going, Fatimanian? We hope you are appreciating
uncovering several facts about African literature! African culture is
very rich, and it reflects with their literature. This time, you will be
reading two stories which involve monsters! These stories originated
from Africa. Have an exciting reading time!
Masala Kulangwa and the Monster Shing'weng'we
Once upon a time in East Africa the monster or ogre Shing'weng'we swallowed all
the people in the world together with all the domestic animals except one pregnant woman
who hid in a pile of chaff. Later this woman gave birth
to a boy named Masala Kulangwa (whose name
means "the smart or clever person who understands
quickly"). When he grew up, he asked: "Mother, why
are there only the two of us? Where are the other
people?" She answered: "My dear one, everyone
else was swallowed by Shing'weng'we. We two are
the only ones left."
From that day on the young man started
looking for the monster. One day he killed a
grasshopper and arrived home singing: "Mother,
Mother, I have killed Shing'weng'we. Rejoice and
shout for joy." But his Mother answered: "My dear
one, this is only a grasshopper, not the monster. Let
us roast him and eat him."
Another day he killed a bird and arrived home
singing: "Mother, Mother, I have killed Shing'weng'we up in the hills. Rejoice and shout for
joy." But his Mother answered: "My dear one, this is only a bird, not the monster. Let us
roast it and eat it."
Another day he killed a small gazelle and arrived home singing: "Mother, Mother,
I have killed Shing'weng'we up in the hills. Rejoice and shout for joy." But his Mother
answered: "My dear one, this is only a small gazelle, not the monster. Let's roast it and
eat it."
Another day he killed an antelope and arrived home
singing: "Mother, Mother, I have killed Shing'weng'we up in
the hills. Rejoice and shout for joy." But his Mother answered:
"My dear one, this is only an antelope, not the monster. Let's
roast it and eat it."
Finally, the clever young man Masala Kulangwa found
Shing'weng'we, overcame him and cut open the monster's
back. Out came his father along with his relatives and all the
other people. By bad luck when he split open the monster's
back Masala Kulangwa cut off the ear of an old woman. This
woman became very angry and insulted the young man. She
tried to bewitch him. But Masala Kulangwa found medicine
and healed the old woman. Then all the people declared the
young man chief and raised him up in the Chief's Chair. Masala Kulangwa became the
chief of the whole world and his mother became the Queen Mother.
Rawera (the Comforter) and the Monsters
A long time ago, the people of Funtu lived happily. They worked hard and produced much
food. They loved each other. The King was kind: everybody loved him. Ng’uono lived in the village.
Because she was barren, men refused to marry her. Elders forcefully married Ng’uono to Jater,
an old man. Ng’uono and Jater had no friends. Despite being treated badly, they were not bitter.
They humbly accepted their situation. One day, there was a feast. As usual, Ng’uono and Jater
were not invited. From their home, they heard people singing and shouting joyfully. Suddenly, the
music stopped. Cries of agony filled the air. Curious, Jater and
Ng’uono came out. What they saw frightened them.
Creatures bigger than millet granaries, with eyes as big
as cooking pots surrounded the village. These odd-looking
beings had hairy bodies, with claws for toes. Ng’uono and Jater
trembled just from looking at them. “Those are monsters. Let us
run,” Ng’uono said fearfully. “No. They will reach us in no time
and eat us up,” Jater said. “Come with me,” he said, taking his
wife by the hand. They hid in a hole under a big tree. They could
hear people crying as the monsters chased them. The noise
stopped after a long time. “Wait here. I will go and see what is
happening,”
Jater said to his wife. “You cannot go out there! You will
be killed,” Ng’uono objected. Jater ignored her and slid out of the hole. There was not a single
person. The monsters had flattened all the huts. The crops were all destroyed. Shocked, Jater
stood out there, lost in thought. Back in the hole, Ng’uono was worried about her husband. Unable
to wait any longer, she came out and saw him. “Oh! What destruction!” she moaned. Walking
towards him, she asked, “What shall we do?” “I don’t know,” Jater replied sadly. They sat under
the big tree and soon fell asleep.
Ng’uono was woken by the cry of a bird perched on her forehead. “Wake up. What
happened?” asked the bird. Sobbing, she told him the story. “Wake up your husband and follow
me,” the bird commanded. After walking for several days, the bird led them to a valley, green with
vegetation, beautiful flowers and clear streams. “This is your new home. There are crops of all
types: harvest them and eat.” After saying this, the bird turned to fly away. “Oh! Before I
leave…Ng’uono, take good care of your son. Bye.” “What are you talking about? I am…” she
started but the bird had already flown away.
Jater and his wife remained standing, unable to understand. Jater gave birth to a baby
boy a few months later. They called him Rawera, the comforter. Rawera grew up strong and
obedient. One afternoon, while he was out hunting, he saw huge footprints at the edge of the
forest. The footprints were bigger than any he had seen before. Afraid but curious, he followed
the footprints. Deeper and deeper he went into the thick forest. The forest was so dark that he
could not find his way through. Tired, he sat under the nearest tree and fell sleep, his dog beside
him. The barking of the dog woke him. Sleepily, he stood up. And then he heard it: a voice stronger
than thunder. It came from deep inside the forest. He could not understand what the voice said.
Soon, there were more voices, equally loud.
The earth shook and trees swayed. Frightened, Rawera ran. Fear, hunger and confusion slowed
him tremendously. The slower he ran, the louder the voices became. Finally, he reached the edge
of the forest and collapsed. He could no longer hear the terrible voices. He rested for a few
minutes and walked home. “Where have you been,” his mother asked. “Mother, I was just out
hunting.” “Never stay late in the forest: it is dangerous,” warned his father. He did not tell them
what happened.
For many days after, Rawera thought about the voices. He
was sure the creatures were not human. Determined to find
out, he made several poisoned arrows and spears. He hid
these carefully. For many months, he trained his dog and fed
it well. Sibuor grew large and fierce. Satisfied with his
preparations, Rawera set out at dawn one day. He took his
weapons and told his parents that he was going hunting. At
the edge of the forest, he stopped to eat, rest and feed his
dog.
Soon after, they entered the forest. They walked for a long,
long time without hearing any sound. Rawera was
disappointed but he walked on. “Stop!” a voice called from
above. He looked up anxiously but did not see anything and
walked on. “I said stop. You will be killed,” the shrill voice said
again. “Who are you and how do you know where I am going?” Rawera asked. A bird landed on
his forehead, scaring him. He jumped to one side, ready to attack. “Do not kill me. I want to save
you,” the bird said, perching on Sibuor’s head. “The voices you heard the other time belong to
monsters. They ate your ancestors. I am sure your parents told you this. Now, go back home.”
Whaaat? Monsters live here?” Rawera asked. “Believe it: in this forest live many monsters,” the
bird confirmed.
“You say these monsters ate my people? How then can you tell me to go back? I will find and kill
them all. Show me where to find them,” Rawera said defiantly. “Well,
I have warned you. Come with me.” The bird led Rawera and Sibuor
further into the forest. “Look over there,” he said upon reaching a
clearing. Rawera trembled at the sight before him: many giants seated
round a big fire. Their bodies were hairy. Smoke escaped from their
big noses. Seeing how frightened Rawera was, the bird said, “I told
you. You cannot fight them, can you?” “Bu-u-t they killed my people.
I must kill them,” Rawera stammered. “Because you are so
determined, I will help you,” said the bird. “When you shoot at them,
aim for the palm. Go now.”
His dog beside him, Rawera walked into the clearing. The monsters smelled him many metres
away, stood as one and walked to meet him, saliva pouring
from their big mouths. Terrified, Rawera turned back and ran.
“Do not run. Turn back and shoot,” the bird encouraged him.
He turned, took aim, and fired his first arrow. One of the
monsters swallowed it. “Shoot at the palm,” the bird shouted.
The monsters were approaching fast. Rawera let go another
arrow. He aimed at the palm and felled one monster.
Encouraged, he shot the monsters rapidly. Only one
remained, the biggest of them. Rawera had only one arrow
left. “Wait,” the bird called out. “Let Sibuor go out and meet
him. Then shoot the monster through the left ear.” Rawera
commanded his dog to attack the monster. As the monster
picked Sibuor to swallow him, Rawera shot him through the
left ear. The monster died.“Cut the monster’s big toe,” the
bird ordered Rawera. When he did, all the people who had
been eaten by the monsters came out.
They were excited to be back. They thanked Rawera. They
all walked to the valley where Rawera and his parents lived.
Jater and Ng’uono were happy to see all the people of the
village. After listening to Rawera’s story, everybody was proud of him. They made him chief. All
villagers now respected Ng’uono and Jater.