To choose to write is to reject silence

— Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie.

As a literary scholar my understanding of colonialisation is predominantly shaped but not limited to the literary texts I have read in the duration of my studies. Not only have I read prescribed books, I also read other texts outside of the classroom, so to speak. I read them for pleasure. I think post-colonial literature, unlike historical events, allow us to explore, problematise and get to understand complex issues like colonisation in far enriching ways. 

I believe that there is a lot to learn about colonisation, identity, patriarchy and the motif of decolonization from literary works of the likes of Achebe, Ngugi, Arundhati Roy and Chimamanda Ngozi Adiche. Their literary work, particularly their novels: Things fall apart, Arrow of God, The devil on the cross, The river between, The god of small things , Purple hibiscus and Half of the yellow sun are examples of texts that explore colonisation in very interesting ways. 

It was through reading such literary texts that I became fascinated about the power of literature and my interest of understanding the effects of colonisation are beyond understanding the colonisation of South Africa, but that of Africa as whole and the diaspora. 

Interestingly, the works of South African writers like Zakes Mda and Prof. Pumla Gqola also offer a different account of the effects of colonisation in South Africa. For instance, in his book Heart of redness, Mda explores on the binary and the conflict between the native and the converted, the conflict between amaqaba namagqoboka – something that is still relevant to this day. It’s a phenomenon derived from a historical event, the story of Nongqawuse. It is not only the Xhosa nation that still grapples with this complicated battle, other African nations do as well. We find ourselves in the same conundrum in very complex ways. We still, in one way or the other, battle with the binary between believers and ‘non-believers’, the battle between Christians and Traditionalists/Culturalists. And the difficult question I have in this case: “is it even possible to embrace the intersection of religion and African culture?” Perhaps, Things fall apart and Purple Hibiscus helps us to explore this as an ‘alternative’.

Hence for me it is very important for writers to ‘adopt their own cultural AK47’ as Dr. Kani would say. Writers should contribute to the struggle through their writing. As such, the theatrical works of Dr. Kani, Athol Fugard, Winston Ntshona and others are testament of that. This kind of work has come to be known as protest theatre. However, our struggle is not necessarily that of apartheid, ours is a different kind of struggle that of cultural restoration and heritage preservation as the late Bra Hugh Masekela would remind us to undo the legacies of colonisation, the abandonment of our indigenous African languages and patriarchy. Thus, Prof. Gqola’s Rape: A South African Nightmare challenges us to deal with hyper-masculinity and rape culture in South Africa. 

I am of the view that writers and creatives (musicians, visual artists, actors and sculptors) equally have an important role to play in our society similar to that of liberation movements. A process of decolonisation requires their input too.