The roadblock I see is that a Ghanaian writer is having to pitch his story at the West all the time. When you think about it, why should an American reader be interested in your story? Americans are churning out their own stories anyway. So I think that growing a local readership is to me the biggest barrier.”
I’ve read brilliant books about people and communities, economics and governments; and that’s just fine; but I’m more interested in ‘What if?’ The world we see and live in is a lot less interesting than the world of What If. And if I can make you see the world of What If for just ten minutes as a possibility, if you read my story and you walk away asking what if that happened, then, you know...
According to my mum, they started me off on English. I don’t find that hard to believe because in Ghana it’s strictly forbidden to speak local languages at school. And so most of the time I speak English. It sucks, yeah.
The landing was at night. I could see the lights of the city. It was unbelievable to me at the time because I did not imagine that Accra was so, like, sprawling, a sea of light. I was in awe. Just in terms of seeing from an aerial view what was happening. I doubt it was the same view when I left. It was much more impressive. In that moment I began to realize that I could find a story here.
“Because people still follow that way of worship, and it still works for those who believe. For instance we have here in this region a town called Antoa and the river is called Antoa Nyama. That river is worshipped not only by the people there, but by people from other areas. It is believed that the river is feminine and very aggressive.”
Great writers who are Ghanaian include Ama Ata Aidoo, Ayi Kwei Armah, and B Kojo Laing. An Accra journalist and teacher called Geosi organizes regular visits by writers to a local school (he had me and Jonathan Dotse together), in addition to interviewing African writers.
"I live in a society where it is possible for me to live in a nice apartment and provide some level of comfort for me, but I can step out my door and right next to me is a woman living on the street with twins."
“I have come to recognize Nigeria. Yes, it is not original; it is not true per se; but it works. I am no more just an Itsekiri. I have siblings from other tribes. Now we have to make those partnerships work based on mutual consensus. How are we going to share our wealth? Do we have a true federalism and monetary system? We need to fight for that space. The minority voices need to be heard and registered and given room to express themselves within that Nigerian identity.
“I’m Nigerian, I’m African, based on colonialisation. But my blood is Itsekiri.”
The story of his wide influence and charismatic character is being told on websites, on social media, and at a series of memorials being organized in Nairobi. This piece focuses on Binyavanga’s contributions to speculative fiction by Africans, while summarizing some of that wider story.
