Ken,
I've not read the book but the notion of the two Africas that you articulated is a powerful analytical trope that I explored rather tangentially some time ago in an essay. My take on it, which distills the relevant insight from that essay, is that, yes, there are two Africas in the way you characterize them but one Africa is not necessarily insulated from the other although it appears that way. Of course, there is the illusion of separation, insulation, and distance, but is the other Africa of stinky garbage, change-soliciting street urchins, poorly rewarded hustling, and unspeakable poverty really far away? Most Africans would obviously want to belong to the Africa of gated and barbed wired mansions, the fenced in aspirational Africa that is seemingly removed from the ubiquitous signs of poverty. But how is this "isolation" pleasurable or desirable when the supposedly isolated dweller of the affluent Africa HAS TO pass by and behold the sights, sounds, and signs of the very conditions they seek to escape? On daily, necessary commutes into the spaces of work and socialization, you confront the other Africa and its humanity. And these sights remind you of what might have been and what might still be, in a constant mental anguish of insecurity and anxiety. How do you banish the mental and psychosocial anguish of living such a life of comfort in the midst of such deprivation? How does one mentally conquer the metal guilt of luxury and comfort in the midst of such lack, no matter how deserved these luxuries and comforts may be? I would argue that living in the Africa of the chaffeur driven expensive cars and big generators generates its own torturous mental contradictions that haunt the seemingly safe and comfortably isolated African. It is not a very pleasant experience to be the one that "got out," the one that "escaped." Nor is it a desirable experience to be removed from the organic connections that bind you to regular folks in the other Africa---all in the name of comfort and good living. You lose something in the process, something as valuable to your humanity and happiness as the luxuries and comforts you have acquired. I would not go so far as to equate this mental suffering with the starkly physical suffering in the other Africa, but it can tug at your conscience and erode the satisfying pleasures of material success. And, of course, isolation in a gated Africa does not preclude your occasional participation in the equalizing social rituals of traffic jams, poor services, bad public roads, and overzealous and unaccountable law enforcers.
On Tue, Sep 10, 2013 at 11:12 AM, kenneth harrow <harrow@msu.edu> wrote:
as i am teaching noo saro-wiwa's Looking for Transwonderland this week, i want to share very briefly my first reactions. (i have read the book, and am now rereading it). for me it is a mixed success. she personalizes this interesting trip of an ogoni woman, raised in england, her youth punctuated by summer vacations spent in nigeria w her father's family, mostly in ogoniland. she is now in her 30s, a travel guide writer, who takes the style of travel writing to inform much of this account of her 4 months traveling around nigeria. the narrative is marked by two competing styles: her personal account, including much about her own feelings as a woman used to the style of life in england, now traveling under more strenuous conditions in lagos, in maidougeri, in the delta, etc, and esp traveling back to bane, her home village in the delta region, where she remains sufficiently the outsider as one who understands very little of her father's tongue khana.
we get bits about ken saro-wiwa, both from the point of view of a daughter who was critical of her dad, and of a more dispassionate commentator who admired his strengths.
anyway, my comment is that each time she turns into the travel guide writer, giving us the history, the ethnic this or that, i cringe. but when her own, personal voice speaks, her own feelings about what she is experiencing, i admire her ability to get onto that okada, to like it so much, to learn to be there.
there are maybe two worlds in africa today: one for people with money, and who create comfort around them with chauffeur driven expensive cars and air conditioners run w generators, with guards that surround and insulate them; and there are those who live on the streets, walking the streets, taking public transport, eating local foods, being there in flesh and in blood, as we say in french.
she was there, despite her initial apprehensions and fears and discomforts, and she gave us enough of the encounters with ordinary folk on the street to appreciate it. she is no intellectual, so her encounters with issues, like conservation, are marked by relatively superficial statements. and that extends even to issues bearing on her father's political straits, and death. the real interest in this volume lies with her, a woman who is alive, and not too shy to let us see that.
i wonder if others have read this book and what their reactions were?
ken
--
kenneth w. harrow
faculty excellence advocate
professor of english
michigan state university
department of english
619 red cedar road
room C-614 wells hall
east lansing, mi 48824
ph. 517 803 8839
harrow@msu.edu
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