A few weeks ago, the son of Africa’s revered writer, Ngugi wa Thiong’o: world acclaimed Kenyan writer, took to X and wrote about his father being an abusive husband, “My father Ngugi wa Thiong’o physically abused my late mother. He would beat her up. Some of my earliest memories are of me going to visit her at my grandmother’s where she would seek refuge.” The tweet went viral, and took everyone by surprise. Surprise, because human tendency makes it so that we tend to place our heroes on pedestal as if they were no longer human; surprise, because Ngugi wa Thiong’o alongside Chinua Achebe is one of Africa’s greatest writers worthy of the Nobel prize of literature; surprise, because Ngugi wa Thiong’o work has been denouncing colonialism, imperialism, nepotism, neo-colonialism, and African governments’ repression and mismanagement, but never has he denounced the conditions of the African woman; lastly, surprise because, in Africa, and in Kikuyu culture particularly, it is not so common to air one’s dirty laundry in public, particularly against an elder. Sure enough, the son, Mukoma wa Ngugi responded to the backlash, “We cannot use African culture to hide atrocities,” he wrote on X. “My father beat up my mother. What is African about that?”

I, like so many, am against violence in general, and violence against women in particular. As we digest the news about Ngugi wa Thiong’o, is it not time for our acclaimed African writer who is in his twilight years to give us one masterpiece which focuses on patriarchy, women condition, and women in general, as an atonement? Is it not time for this to open up a dialogue?

Below is an excerpt from Al Jazeera. Enjoy, it is a nice read!

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On March 12, Mukoma wa Ngugi, the Kenyan American poet and author, who is the son of Ngugi wa Thiong’o, the famed writer widely seen as a giant of African literature, took to X, formerly Twitter, to allege that his father was an abusive husband. “My father Ngugi wa Thiong’o physically abused my late mother. He would beat her up. Some of my earliest memories are of me going to visit her at my grandmother’s where she would seek refuge.”

Mukoma’s tweet went viral and solicited hundreds of responses that exposed the long, dark shadow patriarchy continues to cast over many African societies. Sure, many commentators thanked Mukoma for sharing his account of a man who is not only his father, but an African cultural icon. Others, however, were less complimentary and appeared to be gravely offended by his openness. They accused him of embarrassing his father and seeking validation from Westerners.

… Ten days after his initial statement, on March 23, Mukoma responded to the criticism he received for speaking up for his mother. “We cannot use African culture to hide atrocities,” he wrote on X. “My father beat up my mother. What is African about that?” In another post, he described the culture of violence against women that underpins Kenyan society as a “patriarchal cancer”.

Ngugi is a literary genius, a storyteller par excellence and a respected revolutionary. Before there was the internet, video on-demand platforms, TV or even radio in most households, two African giants dominated African literature: Chinua Achebe, the Nigerian author, and, of course, Ngugi. From the 1960s,  Achebe and Ngugi articulated African identity and consciousness amid the anti-colonial struggle. They stood up for the human rights of Africans with their words.

Through novels like Things Fall Apart and Arrow of God, to name a few,  Achebe chronicled the impact of colonialism on Igbo culture, religion and sociopolitical systems. And in a Man of the People, he explored the failings of postcolonial leadership and states.

Ngugi, who went by the name James early in his career, also focused on African opposition to colonial rule. Weep not Child, for instance, deals with the so-called Mau Mau Uprising, while A grain of wheat looks at the state of emergency in Kenya’s struggle for independence (1952–60). Through these and other novels, Ngugi advocated for resistance against colonial oppression and repression in the independence era. In 1978, he was arrested and detained for a year without trial by the administration of former Kenyan President Jomo Kenyatta over a play titled Ngahlika Ndenda (I will marry when I want). Over the years, Ngugi was regularly harassed and victimised by authorities in Kenya for voicing his opposition to corruption, misrule and the abuse of power. He has stayed the course and today, at the age of 86, continues to advocate for freedom from neocolonialism and political oppression. With 13 honorary degrees from institutions around the world, as well as countless awards, including the 2022: PEN/Nabokov Award for Achievement in International Literature, Ngugi is a certified literary genius. But, for all of his achievements in the last 60 years, the famed author appears to have failed where it counted most: protecting African women.

He produced many timeless literary classics, and became a leading voice in the fight against colonialism and post-colonial repression, but according to his own son, could not liberate his dear wife, sons and daughters from the extreme ravages of toxic masculinity and domestic violence. Of course, in the wake of Mukoma’s public disclosures, Africans could choose to label Ngugi a flawed genius. He is, after all, human. They could – as many tried to do in lashing out at [Mukoma] – brush his alleged abuse of his wife under the carpet in the name of protecting his literary and revolutionary legacy. This would be an easy and convenient position to take.

But it wouldn’t be right.

… Ngugi, it seems, wanted women to experience liberty from colonialism and post-colonial subjugation, but remain bonded to the steely constraints of Kikuyu culture. … To his mind, it seems, there were limits to women’s human rights. For a long time, under the guise of tradition, African men have been allowed and even encouraged to discipline “their women” and children with violence [this does not apply to all African men]. Thus, many argue Ngugi is just a product of his times and what he is said to have done to his late wife should not be judged through a 21st-century progressive lens.

… Ngugi’s alleged violence is, unfortunately, a window to a continental (and, frankly global) problem. Hence, his son’s revelations should not become a point of contention. This should instead be a teaching moment.

… It is time to say enough is enough.