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Decolonizing Language and Other Revolutionary Ideas
Brilliant thoughts on modern African literature and postcolonial literary criticism from one of the giants of contemporary letters
Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o is a towering figure in African literature, and his novels A Grain of Wheat, Weep Not, Child, and Petals of Blood are modern classics. Emerging from a literary scene that flourished in the 1950s and ’60s during the last years of colonialism in Africa, he is now known not just as a novelist—one who, in the late ’70s, famously stopped writing novels in English and turned to the language he grew up speaking, Gĩkũyũ—but as a major postcolonial theorist.
In Decolonizing Language and Other Revolutionary Ideas, Ngũgĩ gives us a series of essays that build on the revolutionary ideas about language and its constructive role in national culture, history, and identity that he set out in his earlier work. In a book that is intricate, nuanced, and accessible, he reaffirms the power of African languages to fight back against both the psychic and material impacts of colonialism, past and present. Decolonizing Language and Other Revolutionary Ideas also explores these themes through chapters on some of Ngũgĩ’s contemporaries, including Chinua Achebe and Wole Soyinka.
A book with immense relevance to our present moment, Decolonizing Language and Other Revolutionary Ideas works both as a wonderful introduction to the enduring themes of Ngũgĩ’s work as well as a vital addition to the library of the world’s greatest and most provocative living writers.
Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o is a towering figure in African literature, and his novels A Grain of Wheat, Weep Not, Child, and Petals of Blood are modern classics. Emerging from a literary scene that flourished in the 1950s and ’60s during the last years of colonialism in Africa, he is now known not just as a novelist—one who, in the late ’70s, famously stopped writing novels in English and turned to the language he grew up speaking, Gĩkũyũ—but as a major postcolonial theorist.
In Decolonizing Language and Other Revolutionary Ideas, Ngũgĩ gives us a series of essays that build on the revolutionary ideas about language and its constructive role in national culture, history, and identity that he set out in his earlier work. In a book that is intricate, nuanced, and accessible, he reaffirms the power of African languages to fight back against both the psychic and material impacts of colonialism, past and present. Decolonizing Language and Other Revolutionary Ideas also explores these themes through chapters on some of Ngũgĩ’s contemporaries, including Chinua Achebe and Wole Soyinka.
A book with immense relevance to our present moment, Decolonizing Language and Other Revolutionary Ideas works both as a wonderful introduction to the enduring themes of Ngũgĩ’s work as well as a vital addition to the library of the world’s greatest and most provocative living writers.
224 pages, Hardcover
First published May 6, 2025
26 people are currently reading
459 people want to read
About the author
Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o
71 books2,016 followersNgũgĩ wa Thiong'o was a Kenyan author and academic, who was described as East Africa's leading novelist.
He began writing in English before later switching to write primarily in Gikuyu, becoming a strong advocate for literature written in native African languages. His works include the celebrated novel The River Between, plays, short stories, and essays, ranging from literary and social criticism to children's literature. He was the founder and editor of the Gikuyu-language journal Mũtĩiri. His short story The Upright Revolution: Or Why Humans Walk Upright was translated into more than 100 languages.
In 1977, Ngũgĩ embarked upon a novel form of theatre in Kenya that sought to liberate the theatrical process from what he held to be "the general bourgeois education system", by encouraging spontaneity and audience participation in the performances. His project sought to "demystify" the theatrical process, and to avoid the "process of alienation [that] produces a gallery of active stars and an undifferentiated mass of grateful admirers" which, according to Ngũgĩ, encourages passivity in "ordinary people". Although his landmark play Ngaahika Ndeenda, co-written with Ngũgĩ wa Mirii, was a commercial success, it was shut down by the authoritarian Kenyan regime six weeks after its opening.
Ngũgĩ was subsequently imprisoned for more than a year. Adopted as an Amnesty International prisoner of conscience, he was released from prison and fled Kenya. He was appointed Distinguished Professor of Comparative Literature and English at the University of California, Irvine. He previously taught at Northwestern University, Yale University, and New York University. Ngũgĩ was frequently regarded as a likely candidate for the Nobel Prize in Literature. He won the 2001 International Nonino Prize in Italy, and the 2016 Park Kyong-ni Prize. Among his children are authors Mũkoma wa Ngũgĩ and Wanjiku wa Ngũgĩ.
He began writing in English before later switching to write primarily in Gikuyu, becoming a strong advocate for literature written in native African languages. His works include the celebrated novel The River Between, plays, short stories, and essays, ranging from literary and social criticism to children's literature. He was the founder and editor of the Gikuyu-language journal Mũtĩiri. His short story The Upright Revolution: Or Why Humans Walk Upright was translated into more than 100 languages.
In 1977, Ngũgĩ embarked upon a novel form of theatre in Kenya that sought to liberate the theatrical process from what he held to be "the general bourgeois education system", by encouraging spontaneity and audience participation in the performances. His project sought to "demystify" the theatrical process, and to avoid the "process of alienation [that] produces a gallery of active stars and an undifferentiated mass of grateful admirers" which, according to Ngũgĩ, encourages passivity in "ordinary people". Although his landmark play Ngaahika Ndeenda, co-written with Ngũgĩ wa Mirii, was a commercial success, it was shut down by the authoritarian Kenyan regime six weeks after its opening.
Ngũgĩ was subsequently imprisoned for more than a year. Adopted as an Amnesty International prisoner of conscience, he was released from prison and fled Kenya. He was appointed Distinguished Professor of Comparative Literature and English at the University of California, Irvine. He previously taught at Northwestern University, Yale University, and New York University. Ngũgĩ was frequently regarded as a likely candidate for the Nobel Prize in Literature. He won the 2001 International Nonino Prize in Italy, and the 2016 Park Kyong-ni Prize. Among his children are authors Mũkoma wa Ngũgĩ and Wanjiku wa Ngũgĩ.
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Displaying 1 - 29 of 29 reviews
April 7, 2025
Thank you to NetGalley for the eARC in exchange for my honest review. All opinions are my own.
I’m not sure there’s anything I can say in this review that would be more poignant or more important than what the book already says.
This is a valuable teaching resource, but also, a crucial read. The hierarchy of language created by colonization needs to be dismantled and this book offers both a historical lens to the creation of this hierarchy, and ways to bring it to an end.
While this is largely focused on the relation of English colonization within Africa, I also believe it’s principles can be applied more broadly within American Englishes (white standard’s subjugation of AAVE or Black English) and on a broader international scale.
I thought the section of tributes/essays on important African scholars was also very lovely and a crucial spotlight on scholars outside the white English canon. Each essay highlighted the roles these educators have played in the linguistic political landscape and lessons we can learn on how the act of decolonization can actually function.
I’m not sure there’s anything I can say in this review that would be more poignant or more important than what the book already says.
This is a valuable teaching resource, but also, a crucial read. The hierarchy of language created by colonization needs to be dismantled and this book offers both a historical lens to the creation of this hierarchy, and ways to bring it to an end.
While this is largely focused on the relation of English colonization within Africa, I also believe it’s principles can be applied more broadly within American Englishes (white standard’s subjugation of AAVE or Black English) and on a broader international scale.
I thought the section of tributes/essays on important African scholars was also very lovely and a crucial spotlight on scholars outside the white English canon. Each essay highlighted the roles these educators have played in the linguistic political landscape and lessons we can learn on how the act of decolonization can actually function.
July 17, 2025
Ngugi wa Thiong'o died just a few months ago and I have a few of his books on my TBR, so I was very pleased to get this collection which is due to be published in August 2025.
Ngugi wa Thiong'o had a traumatic childhood under British rule in Kenya - his brother was shot in the back after not hearing an order from a British officer because he was deaf..., later went to prison for several years because of his political plays; but this collection of essays is quite light on the autobiographical details. Instead he writes about his academic career and his beginnings as a writer, and the influence of English (and French) in African academia. He rightfully questions why an Icelandic author can write in Icelandic and expect a successful novel to be translated but an African author, from any country, will be expected to write in English if he wants Amy chance to be published. There's a lot about the politics of languages and how colonial attitudes still prevail even amongst academics from Kenya, Uganda, etc.
The second half was a bit lost on me, through my own lack of knowledge, because each essay is about a different African novelist or playwright, many of which (apart from Achebe) I didn't know. A good number of these were female authors which was good to see. That was was a real literary criticism, deep and detailed but yes... Not as interesting for someone who hasn't read the books.
Overall though, I learnt a lot, found the essays very readable (but at times repetitive) and wrote down the names of many authors I want to read next.
Free ARC sent by Netgalley.
Ngugi wa Thiong'o had a traumatic childhood under British rule in Kenya - his brother was shot in the back after not hearing an order from a British officer because he was deaf..., later went to prison for several years because of his political plays; but this collection of essays is quite light on the autobiographical details. Instead he writes about his academic career and his beginnings as a writer, and the influence of English (and French) in African academia. He rightfully questions why an Icelandic author can write in Icelandic and expect a successful novel to be translated but an African author, from any country, will be expected to write in English if he wants Amy chance to be published. There's a lot about the politics of languages and how colonial attitudes still prevail even amongst academics from Kenya, Uganda, etc.
The second half was a bit lost on me, through my own lack of knowledge, because each essay is about a different African novelist or playwright, many of which (apart from Achebe) I didn't know. A good number of these were female authors which was good to see. That was was a real literary criticism, deep and detailed but yes... Not as interesting for someone who hasn't read the books.
Overall though, I learnt a lot, found the essays very readable (but at times repetitive) and wrote down the names of many authors I want to read next.
Free ARC sent by Netgalley.
May 26, 2025
This was a really informative look at the importance of indigenous languages in Africa. The first third talks about colonisation and the suppression of local languages in favour of those of the Europeans. The latter two thirds discuss specific writers. Many parts of this book made an impression on me. The importance of writing in African languages, and translation, not just into English but also into other African languages. The author also talks about class, education and more.
September 10, 2025
Ngugi was my professor and he has always been great at fighting for Africa and for its intellectual heritage. His last book focuses on battling the dominance of European languages and also includes tributes to many African writers, which offers a nice guide for future reading.
2025
October 2, 2025Non-fiction November TBR
📱 Thank you to NetGalley and The New Press
📱 Thank you to NetGalley and The New Press
May 8, 2025
I liked so much how this book mentioned how Language can be used as a tool for colonization. I liked so many other things of this and I need everyone to read it.
June 15, 2025
First half is very powerful analysis. The second half is a good introduction to many other African thinkers.
Read
April 30, 2025Thanks to The New Press and Netgalley for this arc. Can’t wait for it to be published May 6, 2025!
Self described literary author with a political bent, Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o examines the effects of colonial education on African thought, governance and self expression. Looking back at methods of imperialism in multiple context from England’s conquest of Ireland to the dispossession of indigenous lands and ultimately the European scramble for Africa, Thiong'o traces some of the most egregious effects of this process to the imposition of language laws.
Responsible for the alienation of one from oneself and one’s people, English only language policies enforced in Anglophone Africa’s school systems, ushered in a class of African intellectuals whose minds were colonized. In response to this crisis, Thiong offers a creative solution drawn from his experiences as a Kenyan activist, artist in exile and former political detainee.
He posits that instead of unquestionably inheriting an euro-centric language hierarchy, Africans create a network of languages and ideas while prioritizing translation as a means of communication. Using personal anecdotes and critical essays, he builds a network of African authors from all over the continent. This was my favorite part of the book, since the author vividly captures how it felt to be young in a newly independent Kenya. He also is very intentional about placing authors from the African diaspora in the conversation as well.
Overall, This book was motivational, informational and surprisingly a quick read. As someone who identifies as an artist, I am even more committed to using my voice to fight against tyranny. I am also interested in checking out his extensive collection of work that includes plays, novels, four memoirs and critical essays. Ultimately, that is the goal of this book to encourage readers to do more expansive research into African creative output, whether from him or other authors he mentions throughout the book.
Self described literary author with a political bent, Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o examines the effects of colonial education on African thought, governance and self expression. Looking back at methods of imperialism in multiple context from England’s conquest of Ireland to the dispossession of indigenous lands and ultimately the European scramble for Africa, Thiong'o traces some of the most egregious effects of this process to the imposition of language laws.
Responsible for the alienation of one from oneself and one’s people, English only language policies enforced in Anglophone Africa’s school systems, ushered in a class of African intellectuals whose minds were colonized. In response to this crisis, Thiong offers a creative solution drawn from his experiences as a Kenyan activist, artist in exile and former political detainee.
He posits that instead of unquestionably inheriting an euro-centric language hierarchy, Africans create a network of languages and ideas while prioritizing translation as a means of communication. Using personal anecdotes and critical essays, he builds a network of African authors from all over the continent. This was my favorite part of the book, since the author vividly captures how it felt to be young in a newly independent Kenya. He also is very intentional about placing authors from the African diaspora in the conversation as well.
Overall, This book was motivational, informational and surprisingly a quick read. As someone who identifies as an artist, I am even more committed to using my voice to fight against tyranny. I am also interested in checking out his extensive collection of work that includes plays, novels, four memoirs and critical essays. Ultimately, that is the goal of this book to encourage readers to do more expansive research into African creative output, whether from him or other authors he mentions throughout the book.
November 6, 2025
Brilliant. I’m a firm believer that if Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o published this before his passing in May of this year, it would’ve been organized in a more linear way. Regardless, I’m in awe of his knowledge and feel convicted by his assertions. A few of the quotes that will stick with me include:
“Imperial education policies were intended to create colonies of the mind.”
“Education is not neutral; it either liberates or domesticates. The oppressed must be agents of their liberation.”
“If you know all the languages of the world and you don't know your mother tongue, or the language of your culture, that is enslavement.”
“Imperial education policies were intended to create colonies of the mind.”
“Education is not neutral; it either liberates or domesticates. The oppressed must be agents of their liberation.”
“If you know all the languages of the world and you don't know your mother tongue, or the language of your culture, that is enslavement.”
October 1, 2025
3.5 rounded to 4
interesting, but not quite what I wad expecting
interesting, but not quite what I wad expecting
November 14, 2025
Many thanks to The New Press and NetGalley for providing me with an advanced copy of Decolonizing Language and Other Revolutionary Ideas, Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o’s last book before he passed. Although I was saddened to learn about the passing of Kenya’s most prominent thinkers, writers, and advocates, I was excited to find this collection of writings and essays available for review. I greatly appreciate The New Press allowing me to review the book in exchange for my honest opinion. I first encountered Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o’s work in my undergraduate studies, reading A Grain of Wheat in an amazing World Literature course. A Grain of Wheat stood out as one of the most powerful and transformative books that I read. At the time, I hadn’t been completely familiar with Kenya’s fight for independence, but Ngũgĩ’s characters brought this struggle and its challenges to light in a meaningful and poetic way. Furthermore, my professor, Dr. Awuyah, made the readings so compelling and engaging, and A Grain of Wheat remains one of the most memorable from that course even years later.
I was also attracted to the title of this book as it focused on decolonization and language, two ideas that are incredibly appealing and interesting to me. The first part of the book, Decolonizing Language, focuses on that subject, providing examples and ideas of the power of the language and how colonization, and in particular language rules and imperialism seek to eradicate culture, beliefs and indigenous knowledge. Ngũgĩ provides examples throughout history of how countries sought to dominate and control through imposing a dominant language while limiting indigenous languages. It’s an important idea that is often neglected or forgotten, especially as more and more languages die every year. I was both surprised and excited to find that he used the example of Ireland as one of the first colonial linguistic experiments in Europe, and yet, he acknowledged that great Irish writers like Yeats and Joyce are often included in English literature Canons despite the attempted eradication of Gaelic, their native language. The idea of language and power is also represented in both writers’ work, as it is in other Irish authors like Brian Friel, whose play Translations, dealt with the kinds of issues Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o brings up about language, memory, culture, and the power of naming. While there are many important ideas and themes that emerged from Ngũgĩ’s essays, I found two to be highly important. First, “Language conquest, unlike the military form, wherein the victor must subdue the whole population directly, is cheaper and more effective: the conqueror only has to invest in capturing the minds of the elite, who will then spread submission to the rest of the population.” While Ngũgĩ is referring to nation and culture, I think this idea is relevant and applicable to our current situation in the US, and in many ways further represents the kind of cultural and generational shifts that are occurring through different means of communication as we shift into accessing more information through social media and other digital formats. In many ways, it feels like there is a kind of linguistic battle occurring where forces are arguing about the nature of facts, representation, accessibility, and knowledge. I appreciated Ngũgĩ’s call to continually keep language and culture alive through reading, writing, and orality. The other idea that seemed highly important was pulled form historical examples in British colonies, especially in India, where English became “the language of education in order to form a class of ‘interpreters between us and the millions whom we govern, a class of persons Indian in blood and color, but English in tastes, in opinions, in morals and intellect.’” While Ngũgĩ’s examples represent the colonial use of education to create an educated class that still remained separate from the ruling class, with some privileges, yet never completely integrated, it’s also reminiscent of much of the ideological battles that are occurring now in education, and how the dominant culture currently in power is seeking to reshape American’s access to education with spurious claims of ideological capture and indoctrination. It almost seems like there is an invention of pseudoscientific terms to create fearmongering in order to shift ideologies. We see how language and education are used in these kinds of ways to dominate and eliminate ideas that are deemed threatening or counter the ruling class. Nevertheless, Ngũgĩ notes that “The colony of the mind prevents meaningful, nationally empowering innovations in education,” which seems to be the goal. Rather than innovate and encourage free and critical thinking, we are moving more towards this kind of colonial mentality where recitation and memorization are more important than independent thought and ideas. Actually, Ngũgĩ differentiates between education, which he notes as more like conditioning and knowledge, which he defines as an addictive element to an individual.
Another great essay in the book focused on the role of the University in a Global Community, and again, I felt like there was so much to take away and apply from this essay. It’s also interesting to see the university from Ngũgĩ’s perspective, as someone who helped shape disciplinary studies in African and American universities, calling for the shift away from “English” departments to “Literature” departments that sought to be more inclusive and diverse. As he notes “the university has a great role to play. Just as the university hosts different disciplines, which, while pursuing their particularity, should be in dialogue with one another, the university should be the modern patron of an intellectual discourse among languages and cultures. No university should be proud of monoculturalism or monolingualism. Building bridges between even apparently irreconcilable viewpoints is an important function of the university.” I loved this quote and this entire essay that focuses on the ways in which universities provided additive knowledge to students in order to further enhance their perspectives and viewpoints. Although Ngũgĩ’s experience, fighting for the inclusion of African, Asian, and other writers not often represented in the canon, is different, his words are a reminder of how powerful the role of the university remains in American life, and the ways that current policies are intending to shift towards this kind of monoculturalism and, as Chimanda Ngozi Adichie warns, the dangers of a single story. If anything, Ngũgĩ’s words and essay are an important reminder of how powerful and transformative the university can be both on an individual and a societal level.
The second half of the book, from chapters 7 through 20, focus on “Voices of Prophecy,” and discuss many of Ngũgĩ’s contemporaries and colleagues. I’m not sure whether the chapter on Achebe was meant to be funny, but Ngũgĩ discusses how after Things Fall Apart, every African writer became Achebe, where even he and his son were both mistaken for Achebe. It’s a funny story, but also somewhat troubling in that a scholar of African literature didn’t even know what Achebe’s age or appearance were like. Other essays detail his relationship to other well-known African writers, and their struggles writing in English or switching to their native languages. Ngũgĩ’s experiences as a political prisoner in Kenya are also a reminder of how powerful and subversive literature can be, and how the artist can also be a source of resistance and rebellion against politically powerful individuals. There is a lot to consider in these chapters as well, and I enjoyed learning more about Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o’s career and collaborations with other writers, especially as he sought to diversify Literary studies and make them more inclusive.
This was an excellent collection, one that I will revisit and would consider using for the classroom. There are many great essays in here, and I as someone who studied African literature in college, I found these texts particularly relevant and meaningful. Furthermore, Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o’s experience challenging the colonial mindset—seeking to decolonize not just nations, but also mentalities, is an important reminder about the role of language and knowledge in this kind of colonizer mindset. I was surprised and excited at how relevant and powerful these essays are in the current landscape. Highly recommended!
I was also attracted to the title of this book as it focused on decolonization and language, two ideas that are incredibly appealing and interesting to me. The first part of the book, Decolonizing Language, focuses on that subject, providing examples and ideas of the power of the language and how colonization, and in particular language rules and imperialism seek to eradicate culture, beliefs and indigenous knowledge. Ngũgĩ provides examples throughout history of how countries sought to dominate and control through imposing a dominant language while limiting indigenous languages. It’s an important idea that is often neglected or forgotten, especially as more and more languages die every year. I was both surprised and excited to find that he used the example of Ireland as one of the first colonial linguistic experiments in Europe, and yet, he acknowledged that great Irish writers like Yeats and Joyce are often included in English literature Canons despite the attempted eradication of Gaelic, their native language. The idea of language and power is also represented in both writers’ work, as it is in other Irish authors like Brian Friel, whose play Translations, dealt with the kinds of issues Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o brings up about language, memory, culture, and the power of naming. While there are many important ideas and themes that emerged from Ngũgĩ’s essays, I found two to be highly important. First, “Language conquest, unlike the military form, wherein the victor must subdue the whole population directly, is cheaper and more effective: the conqueror only has to invest in capturing the minds of the elite, who will then spread submission to the rest of the population.” While Ngũgĩ is referring to nation and culture, I think this idea is relevant and applicable to our current situation in the US, and in many ways further represents the kind of cultural and generational shifts that are occurring through different means of communication as we shift into accessing more information through social media and other digital formats. In many ways, it feels like there is a kind of linguistic battle occurring where forces are arguing about the nature of facts, representation, accessibility, and knowledge. I appreciated Ngũgĩ’s call to continually keep language and culture alive through reading, writing, and orality. The other idea that seemed highly important was pulled form historical examples in British colonies, especially in India, where English became “the language of education in order to form a class of ‘interpreters between us and the millions whom we govern, a class of persons Indian in blood and color, but English in tastes, in opinions, in morals and intellect.’” While Ngũgĩ’s examples represent the colonial use of education to create an educated class that still remained separate from the ruling class, with some privileges, yet never completely integrated, it’s also reminiscent of much of the ideological battles that are occurring now in education, and how the dominant culture currently in power is seeking to reshape American’s access to education with spurious claims of ideological capture and indoctrination. It almost seems like there is an invention of pseudoscientific terms to create fearmongering in order to shift ideologies. We see how language and education are used in these kinds of ways to dominate and eliminate ideas that are deemed threatening or counter the ruling class. Nevertheless, Ngũgĩ notes that “The colony of the mind prevents meaningful, nationally empowering innovations in education,” which seems to be the goal. Rather than innovate and encourage free and critical thinking, we are moving more towards this kind of colonial mentality where recitation and memorization are more important than independent thought and ideas. Actually, Ngũgĩ differentiates between education, which he notes as more like conditioning and knowledge, which he defines as an addictive element to an individual.
Another great essay in the book focused on the role of the University in a Global Community, and again, I felt like there was so much to take away and apply from this essay. It’s also interesting to see the university from Ngũgĩ’s perspective, as someone who helped shape disciplinary studies in African and American universities, calling for the shift away from “English” departments to “Literature” departments that sought to be more inclusive and diverse. As he notes “the university has a great role to play. Just as the university hosts different disciplines, which, while pursuing their particularity, should be in dialogue with one another, the university should be the modern patron of an intellectual discourse among languages and cultures. No university should be proud of monoculturalism or monolingualism. Building bridges between even apparently irreconcilable viewpoints is an important function of the university.” I loved this quote and this entire essay that focuses on the ways in which universities provided additive knowledge to students in order to further enhance their perspectives and viewpoints. Although Ngũgĩ’s experience, fighting for the inclusion of African, Asian, and other writers not often represented in the canon, is different, his words are a reminder of how powerful the role of the university remains in American life, and the ways that current policies are intending to shift towards this kind of monoculturalism and, as Chimanda Ngozi Adichie warns, the dangers of a single story. If anything, Ngũgĩ’s words and essay are an important reminder of how powerful and transformative the university can be both on an individual and a societal level.
The second half of the book, from chapters 7 through 20, focus on “Voices of Prophecy,” and discuss many of Ngũgĩ’s contemporaries and colleagues. I’m not sure whether the chapter on Achebe was meant to be funny, but Ngũgĩ discusses how after Things Fall Apart, every African writer became Achebe, where even he and his son were both mistaken for Achebe. It’s a funny story, but also somewhat troubling in that a scholar of African literature didn’t even know what Achebe’s age or appearance were like. Other essays detail his relationship to other well-known African writers, and their struggles writing in English or switching to their native languages. Ngũgĩ’s experiences as a political prisoner in Kenya are also a reminder of how powerful and subversive literature can be, and how the artist can also be a source of resistance and rebellion against politically powerful individuals. There is a lot to consider in these chapters as well, and I enjoyed learning more about Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o’s career and collaborations with other writers, especially as he sought to diversify Literary studies and make them more inclusive.
This was an excellent collection, one that I will revisit and would consider using for the classroom. There are many great essays in here, and I as someone who studied African literature in college, I found these texts particularly relevant and meaningful. Furthermore, Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o’s experience challenging the colonial mindset—seeking to decolonize not just nations, but also mentalities, is an important reminder about the role of language and knowledge in this kind of colonizer mindset. I was surprised and excited at how relevant and powerful these essays are in the current landscape. Highly recommended!
May 4, 2025
Ahhhh Thank you to The New Press for providing me an advanced reader’s copy of a book in my special interest area (linguistics and language) (!!!) I was super excited about this book and walked away with lots of notes and a reading list of other African authors’ works I, regrettably, was unaware of. The first portion of this book was right up my alley with informative and philosophical topics relating to language. I expected the entire book to be this way based on the title and felt disappointed by the style of the latter portion which was more personal and memoirish with experiences of the author and his peers throughout various essays. I believe the latter portion would be more enjoyable for those more familiar with previous works of the author, who has had a very interesting life. I did a cursory search and have had a difficult time tracking down English copies of a few of the works mentioned online. Regardless this was an easy and most importantly accessible text and I appreciate the opportunity to have read it.
July 8, 2025
[ARC review] The reason why I was interested in reviewing this book is because I work in the field of English language education textbook publishing, and it’s important for me, as someone from the “inner circle” of English (see Kachru, 1992), to help produce materials that reflect a greater global representation. After all, in the likes of common textbook units such as “hobbies”, not every young person around the world goes horse riding at the weekend or attends homecoming parties.
There have been writings by “inner circle” authors that have critiqued the enforcement of English as a national language in lands outside of England, but it’s only been more recently that those in the West have had more opportunities to hear the voices of those directly impacted by the dominance of the English language. And, thank goodness for this refreshing change. I regrettably didn’t know the name of Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o before reading this book. He has written a number of much-praised works that ultimately call for the revitalization of African languages in intellectual and literary life, although he sadly passed away in the spring of 2025, just a few months before this book is to be released.
The general structure and content of the book is as follows: The first part provides some context and commentary on why Europhonism has been so destructive for the African continent (and elsewhere). The second part presents and discusses academics who have challenged Europhonism, including Chinua Achebe. There's a bit of a jump between the two parts, which made the direction of the book somewhat unexpected.
In the first part, the book inevitably includes mention of colonialism. From the book, I come to learn about two different models of education that were espoused across colonized parts of Africa and which stemmed from traditional British models and which largely continue today. About the Horton–Asquith model, which Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o particularly despises, he says something very pointed:
“A people can be deprived of wealth and power, but one of the worst deprivations is depriving them of the means of perceiving and articulating their deprivation, and thereby of developing a vision and strategy and tactics for fighting it.”
In my publishing work, these deprivations remain real. For example, typically we can’t make reference to those from the LGBTQIA+ communities [“some markets won’t like that”]; we can’t feature homeless people [“we need to be aspirational”]; we need to keep naming to Peter and Sara [“international markets won’t be able to pronounce names like Rakesh and Niamh”]. In one publishing company, I was not allowed to include images of Asians, even though the target markets for our books were in Asia. (I did fight back, but to no avail, with the argument that it looks strange to be looking at a book and noticing that no-one in it looks like you.)
Other, very thought-provoking lines from the book include:
“Imperial educational policies were meant to create colonies of the mind.”
“Abnormality becomes normalized.” (This could also read “Exclusion becomes normalized.”)
“Balanced and inclusive education calls for a new slogan: network, not hierarchy.”
“Globalization began with the Black body.” (a nod to slavery)
As Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o emphasizes, the problem is that Western education models remain so entrenched across the world for myriad reasons (and we can therefore extend this statement to explain why there are so many outdated legacy facets in contemporary English language education textbooks). His strongest argument is that if we deny the expression of local languages, we deny people their heritage and their complete identity. Entire histories get lost. Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o makes a call to not only bring back “marginal” languages but to place them center stage. However, the challenge is how exactly can we bring them back to a more prominent position, since Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o also recognizes that some of the best contemporary writers from Africa are in many ways the product of Western-styled universities, as are many government leaders. And, this lack of “how” is maybe the weakness of this book. Can we truly go back and undo all of the colonial influence, or do we need to find a middle ground or a new pathway? Other academics already seem to have long-since identified some of the challenges to this question and have elaborated to a greater depth to what Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o is calling for. For example, Tuck and Yang (2012) warn through thorough explanation that deliberate effort at decolonialism can risk “further settler colonialism”.
Overall, I think this book offers a valuable contribution to discussions around understanding and critiquing colonial legacies as well as considering the impact of selectively erasing identities from books and education systems. The themes/information in this book won’t be new to most of the readers who gravitate toward this title (e.g., Linda Tuhiwai Smith, Walter Mignolo, Boaventura de Sousa Santos, Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak, Gloria Ladson-Billings, Suresh Canagarajh, Robert Phillipson, and Alistair Pennycook have solidly tackled these themes elsewhere; hence why I was close to giving this book four stars), but it seems that we can’t be served enough in terms of the book’s themes, particularly when today’s dominating Western discourse and governmental actions appear to be more about excluding rather than including, so I have given it five stars.
There have been writings by “inner circle” authors that have critiqued the enforcement of English as a national language in lands outside of England, but it’s only been more recently that those in the West have had more opportunities to hear the voices of those directly impacted by the dominance of the English language. And, thank goodness for this refreshing change. I regrettably didn’t know the name of Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o before reading this book. He has written a number of much-praised works that ultimately call for the revitalization of African languages in intellectual and literary life, although he sadly passed away in the spring of 2025, just a few months before this book is to be released.
The general structure and content of the book is as follows: The first part provides some context and commentary on why Europhonism has been so destructive for the African continent (and elsewhere). The second part presents and discusses academics who have challenged Europhonism, including Chinua Achebe. There's a bit of a jump between the two parts, which made the direction of the book somewhat unexpected.
In the first part, the book inevitably includes mention of colonialism. From the book, I come to learn about two different models of education that were espoused across colonized parts of Africa and which stemmed from traditional British models and which largely continue today. About the Horton–Asquith model, which Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o particularly despises, he says something very pointed:
“A people can be deprived of wealth and power, but one of the worst deprivations is depriving them of the means of perceiving and articulating their deprivation, and thereby of developing a vision and strategy and tactics for fighting it.”
In my publishing work, these deprivations remain real. For example, typically we can’t make reference to those from the LGBTQIA+ communities [“some markets won’t like that”]; we can’t feature homeless people [“we need to be aspirational”]; we need to keep naming to Peter and Sara [“international markets won’t be able to pronounce names like Rakesh and Niamh”]. In one publishing company, I was not allowed to include images of Asians, even though the target markets for our books were in Asia. (I did fight back, but to no avail, with the argument that it looks strange to be looking at a book and noticing that no-one in it looks like you.)
Other, very thought-provoking lines from the book include:
“Imperial educational policies were meant to create colonies of the mind.”
“Abnormality becomes normalized.” (This could also read “Exclusion becomes normalized.”)
“Balanced and inclusive education calls for a new slogan: network, not hierarchy.”
“Globalization began with the Black body.” (a nod to slavery)
As Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o emphasizes, the problem is that Western education models remain so entrenched across the world for myriad reasons (and we can therefore extend this statement to explain why there are so many outdated legacy facets in contemporary English language education textbooks). His strongest argument is that if we deny the expression of local languages, we deny people their heritage and their complete identity. Entire histories get lost. Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o makes a call to not only bring back “marginal” languages but to place them center stage. However, the challenge is how exactly can we bring them back to a more prominent position, since Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o also recognizes that some of the best contemporary writers from Africa are in many ways the product of Western-styled universities, as are many government leaders. And, this lack of “how” is maybe the weakness of this book. Can we truly go back and undo all of the colonial influence, or do we need to find a middle ground or a new pathway? Other academics already seem to have long-since identified some of the challenges to this question and have elaborated to a greater depth to what Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o is calling for. For example, Tuck and Yang (2012) warn through thorough explanation that deliberate effort at decolonialism can risk “further settler colonialism”.
Overall, I think this book offers a valuable contribution to discussions around understanding and critiquing colonial legacies as well as considering the impact of selectively erasing identities from books and education systems. The themes/information in this book won’t be new to most of the readers who gravitate toward this title (e.g., Linda Tuhiwai Smith, Walter Mignolo, Boaventura de Sousa Santos, Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak, Gloria Ladson-Billings, Suresh Canagarajh, Robert Phillipson, and Alistair Pennycook have solidly tackled these themes elsewhere; hence why I was close to giving this book four stars), but it seems that we can’t be served enough in terms of the book’s themes, particularly when today’s dominating Western discourse and governmental actions appear to be more about excluding rather than including, so I have given it five stars.
October 1, 2025
A tricky one to rate. I really enjoyed the first part of the book which was cohesive and really impactful about a subject I care deeply about. The rest of the book completely changed and became about people who he knew and their views and interactions with him. Now I do get the point, have added some books to my to buy pile but I really struggled to stay engaged meaningfully.
June 7, 2025
The great Ngũgĩ’s lifelong preoccupation was decolonisation. In 1968, he, Owuor Anyumba, and Taban Lo Liyong pushed for the renaming of the English Department at Nairobi University, which Ngũgĩ had joined in 1967, to decentre English as the focus and frame of literary studies there. This is also the focus of this final book, published in the same month Ngũgĩ passed away by The New Press.
The case Ngũgĩ makes for why it’s so critical that language be decolonised is compelling: “Language conquest, unlike the military form, wherein the victor must subdue the whole population directly, is cheaper and more effective: the conqueror has only to invest in capturing the minds of the elite, who will then spread submission to the rest of the population… Imperial educational policies were meant to create colonies of the mind, among the elite of the colonized,” and “even after independence, the intellectuals express themselves more fluently in the language of imperial conquest than in the languages from their own country… in every postcolonial situation.”
This book is divided into two sections, corresponding to a two-pronged message: decolonisation and pan-Africanism. In the first section, Ngũgĩ describes the damage caused to the African psyche by “the unequal power relationships between languages,” and he outlines a five-part framework for reversing this damage: decolonising education; decolonising the body of knowledge Africa draws from (echoing a modern decolonial refrain: “There are many ways of knowing.”); enslavement vs. empowerment, or what the modern African intellectual must be to resist neocolonialism; an acknowledgment of our own (African) languages as repositories of knowledge and cultural power; and, finally, understanding the role of the university today.
In the second section—titled “Voices of Prophecy”—Ngũgĩ celebrates political activists, writers, and a publisher: all have shared in shaping the continent’s political, social and cultural trajectory. It’s pan-Africanism: building bridges across the Continent, struggling together for political reform and social good, fighting for liberation, and helping society imagine futures. In the book’s final chapter, “The African Writer as a Prophet and Social Critic in Contemporary Times,” Ngũgĩ describes how Es'kia Mphahlele, the South African writer, founded, while in exile, the Chemchemi (meaning spring or fountain) Creative Centre in Nairobi to foster the development of young writers. (He had also been part of the legendary Mbari Writers and Artists Club in Ibadan, Nigeria.) Mphahlele spoke at a high school in western Kenya where, incredibly, a young Henry Chakava—the future publisher who changed African literature—listened attentively from a corner of the room.
Carol Hanish said the personal is political; Ngũgĩ’s life demonstrated that the writer’s work is necessarily political. In some ways, this book is, too, Ngũgĩ’s memoir of his life in exile. Speaking truth about the postcolonial situation in Kenya (similar to that in many other African countries) led to his effective banishment from his home country; the Kenyan government could not, however, prevent him from taking part in the public discourse through his writing.
Why aren’t there more journals and scientific papers in African languages? Some work has been done recently to translate parts of the Western canon into African languages (for example, Nyerere translated Shakespeare into Kiswahili, and *Animal Farm* has been translated into ChiShona)—but why, Ngũgĩ asks, do we not have literature in translation from one African language to another? He insists in the book that there are treasures buried in our own languages—indigenous knowledge of politics, economics and culture, the source of ways for us to “imagine and reimagine” ourselves in history. Ngũgĩ wanted us, therefore, to ensure our own languages stayed alive, participating in and contributing to our common humanity, and for intellectual production to also happen in African languages on the world stage. No language, he says in the book—referring to what he calls Europhone languages—should “grow on the graveyard of other languages.”
Coming as it did at the end of his life, this book feels like Ngũgĩ’s last cry, a last plea to us: “You would think that after liberation and independence, the new nations, at the very least, would dismantle that unequal power relationship. But that is precisely the power of the colonies of the mind: negativity toward self has become internalized as a way of looking at reality.”
For Ngũgĩ, decolonisation was a pan-African process of recovery. He lives on in these ideas, in the gift he has left us of his own intellectual production. We are always building on the work of those who came before us; now we must receive the baton from him.
The case Ngũgĩ makes for why it’s so critical that language be decolonised is compelling: “Language conquest, unlike the military form, wherein the victor must subdue the whole population directly, is cheaper and more effective: the conqueror has only to invest in capturing the minds of the elite, who will then spread submission to the rest of the population… Imperial educational policies were meant to create colonies of the mind, among the elite of the colonized,” and “even after independence, the intellectuals express themselves more fluently in the language of imperial conquest than in the languages from their own country… in every postcolonial situation.”
This book is divided into two sections, corresponding to a two-pronged message: decolonisation and pan-Africanism. In the first section, Ngũgĩ describes the damage caused to the African psyche by “the unequal power relationships between languages,” and he outlines a five-part framework for reversing this damage: decolonising education; decolonising the body of knowledge Africa draws from (echoing a modern decolonial refrain: “There are many ways of knowing.”); enslavement vs. empowerment, or what the modern African intellectual must be to resist neocolonialism; an acknowledgment of our own (African) languages as repositories of knowledge and cultural power; and, finally, understanding the role of the university today.
In the second section—titled “Voices of Prophecy”—Ngũgĩ celebrates political activists, writers, and a publisher: all have shared in shaping the continent’s political, social and cultural trajectory. It’s pan-Africanism: building bridges across the Continent, struggling together for political reform and social good, fighting for liberation, and helping society imagine futures. In the book’s final chapter, “The African Writer as a Prophet and Social Critic in Contemporary Times,” Ngũgĩ describes how Es'kia Mphahlele, the South African writer, founded, while in exile, the Chemchemi (meaning spring or fountain) Creative Centre in Nairobi to foster the development of young writers. (He had also been part of the legendary Mbari Writers and Artists Club in Ibadan, Nigeria.) Mphahlele spoke at a high school in western Kenya where, incredibly, a young Henry Chakava—the future publisher who changed African literature—listened attentively from a corner of the room.
Carol Hanish said the personal is political; Ngũgĩ’s life demonstrated that the writer’s work is necessarily political. In some ways, this book is, too, Ngũgĩ’s memoir of his life in exile. Speaking truth about the postcolonial situation in Kenya (similar to that in many other African countries) led to his effective banishment from his home country; the Kenyan government could not, however, prevent him from taking part in the public discourse through his writing.
Why aren’t there more journals and scientific papers in African languages? Some work has been done recently to translate parts of the Western canon into African languages (for example, Nyerere translated Shakespeare into Kiswahili, and *Animal Farm* has been translated into ChiShona)—but why, Ngũgĩ asks, do we not have literature in translation from one African language to another? He insists in the book that there are treasures buried in our own languages—indigenous knowledge of politics, economics and culture, the source of ways for us to “imagine and reimagine” ourselves in history. Ngũgĩ wanted us, therefore, to ensure our own languages stayed alive, participating in and contributing to our common humanity, and for intellectual production to also happen in African languages on the world stage. No language, he says in the book—referring to what he calls Europhone languages—should “grow on the graveyard of other languages.”
Coming as it did at the end of his life, this book feels like Ngũgĩ’s last cry, a last plea to us: “You would think that after liberation and independence, the new nations, at the very least, would dismantle that unequal power relationship. But that is precisely the power of the colonies of the mind: negativity toward self has become internalized as a way of looking at reality.”
For Ngũgĩ, decolonisation was a pan-African process of recovery. He lives on in these ideas, in the gift he has left us of his own intellectual production. We are always building on the work of those who came before us; now we must receive the baton from him.
April 11, 2025
This was not what I was expecting, but I welcomed it. One part autobiography, one part biography, and one part critical theory, but light on that front.
Thiong'o is a hero, put simply. You may be wondering what "decolonizing language" effectively means, and there's different ways to go about it, but the classic example via Thiong'o is to stop writing in English and start writing in one's native tongue, for him Gikuyu.
Thiong'o has a storied history as a leader in Afro-centric postcolonial literary criticism. He's been places, he's seen things, and he's had some rather trying experiences, including confinement in Kenya's Kamiti Maximum Security Prison for his political activism through writing. Here, we learn less about what happened and more about why and what it means. We're also introduced to a cast of characters that are kin in activist spirit and decolonization.
I'd expected more of an educational take on what decolonizing means and how it works. There's a lot of examples here, and some zingers, but this is more of a memoir. To be honest, I was disappointed given the title and promise of "revolutionary ideas."
I'll end this review with a striking message for reflection: "Racial oppression carries within it many forms of denial—economic, political, cultural, and psychological. Who does not see themselves reflected in that mirror?"
Thank you to Edelweiss+ and The New Press | Ingram Publisher Services for the advance copy.
Thiong'o is a hero, put simply. You may be wondering what "decolonizing language" effectively means, and there's different ways to go about it, but the classic example via Thiong'o is to stop writing in English and start writing in one's native tongue, for him Gikuyu.
Thiong'o has a storied history as a leader in Afro-centric postcolonial literary criticism. He's been places, he's seen things, and he's had some rather trying experiences, including confinement in Kenya's Kamiti Maximum Security Prison for his political activism through writing. Here, we learn less about what happened and more about why and what it means. We're also introduced to a cast of characters that are kin in activist spirit and decolonization.
I'd expected more of an educational take on what decolonizing means and how it works. There's a lot of examples here, and some zingers, but this is more of a memoir. To be honest, I was disappointed given the title and promise of "revolutionary ideas."
I'll end this review with a striking message for reflection: "Racial oppression carries within it many forms of denial—economic, political, cultural, and psychological. Who does not see themselves reflected in that mirror?"
Thank you to Edelweiss+ and The New Press | Ingram Publisher Services for the advance copy.
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August 24, 2025Thank you to Penguin Press UK and Netgalley for the e-arc!
We has such a god start but in the end I felt like a had read two different books. Part 1 was the commentary I needed from the text going in, the facts I picked this up for in the first place. Part 2 however felt like a bunch of cool stories you tell to your grandkids to prove that back in your day you lived a whole life. It felt like I was reading the speech the author would have given had they been asked to speak at any of those people's funerals. It should have explained the history more because I personally am a baby historian and I know nothing about Kenya, after reading this I still know very little, this would have been a great opportunity to dive into Kenyan politics, history etc
Part 1 made a strong case for decolonizing language but beyond that I didn't see anything else the book talked about. By the end it felt like name dropping which made me skim some sections.
We has such a god start but in the end I felt like a had read two different books. Part 1 was the commentary I needed from the text going in, the facts I picked this up for in the first place. Part 2 however felt like a bunch of cool stories you tell to your grandkids to prove that back in your day you lived a whole life. It felt like I was reading the speech the author would have given had they been asked to speak at any of those people's funerals. It should have explained the history more because I personally am a baby historian and I know nothing about Kenya, after reading this I still know very little, this would have been a great opportunity to dive into Kenyan politics, history etc
Part 1 made a strong case for decolonizing language but beyond that I didn't see anything else the book talked about. By the end it felt like name dropping which made me skim some sections.
August 30, 2025
I had not heard of Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o before, but the title of this book was intriguing. The first third or so was excellent—a series of lectures or essays Thiong’o had given on language and the importance of creating African literature written in African languages. I really enjoyed his critiques and deconstruction of his points.
The last part of the book was not quite as engaging. It’s a series of little chapters, each about a different literary luminary that he knew from Africa, and while there was a lot I learned, there was a great deal of repetition and referencing people I just didn’t know. It became less about the topic of the book and more about everyone’s contributions. Which is good, and there were a number of authors/poets I want to read now, but it didn’t follow the excellence of the first bit as well as I would’ve liked.
The last part of the book was not quite as engaging. It’s a series of little chapters, each about a different literary luminary that he knew from Africa, and while there was a lot I learned, there was a great deal of repetition and referencing people I just didn’t know. It became less about the topic of the book and more about everyone’s contributions. Which is good, and there were a number of authors/poets I want to read now, but it didn’t follow the excellence of the first bit as well as I would’ve liked.
September 11, 2025
I must admit that I got this book solely because of the title, without reading what it was about. I had mistakenly assumed that it was going to focus on sociolinguistics and how colonization impacted language. Instead, it was more personal to the author and his accounts as a writer and literature student, advocating for indigenous languages in Africa to be lifted up in Universities. He discussed how English literature is the default subject in school, rather than literature in local languages of Africa. He goes on to reference multiple authors and the importance of writing in African languages. I felt as though the last half of the book became repetitive and strayed from the conversation.
Thank you NetGalley and The New Press for the opportunity to read this book in exchange for my honest review.
Thank you NetGalley and The New Press for the opportunity to read this book in exchange for my honest review.
October 5, 2025
I enjoyed the book, and was fascinated by the history but I found some of the language a little hard going, I am not sure how much of that is a me problem and how much is potentially translation.
Having now read some other reviews, I realise I am not alone. And it wasn't just the language so much as the shift in structure, which I hadn't registered as such.
That being said it was still a really interesting read, and has inspired me to look further into the topics discussed, and to research some of the other authors mentioned.
Having now read some other reviews, I realise I am not alone. And it wasn't just the language so much as the shift in structure, which I hadn't registered as such.
That being said it was still a really interesting read, and has inspired me to look further into the topics discussed, and to research some of the other authors mentioned.
October 11, 2025
ARC via Netgalley. After almost half a year, I did eventually go back and read the second half! This was a really interesting book to read in bits and pieces, but by definition, as an essay collection, it was very fragmented and a bit repetitive in places. Still, I learned an incredible amount about the history of African literature! The second half of the book was almost like an oral history, and the first half was a really interesting theoretical framework for thinking about how and why English is the dominant language of scholarship.
August 6, 2025
Thiongo’s ideas about decolonizing language are genius and thought provoking. However I don’t think this is the best introduction to his work. A lot of the book are mini profiles of other figures in African literature and their impact. This is an interesting jumping off point to other work but not immediately clear from the book title so I was a little disappointed in that regard. However it would make a good supplementary title.
Thanks to NetGalley for the advance copy.
Thanks to NetGalley for the advance copy.
August 28, 2025
A wonderfully eye opening look into how language is used as a tool of colonisation and the power in reclaiming the languages of our ancestors. This book also introduced me to lots of writers that I had never heard of but will definitely be reading now. I had never really realised how radical it was to write and publish in African languages until this book and this has definitely inspired me to read more works by African authors.
July 8, 2025
read for the Storygraph Reads the World challenge
based on the title and description i expected the book to focus on sociolinguistics and/or political theory. but it was interesting to see the interconnections between the key figures of African literature, and in a way that taught me more about African--and more specifically Kenyan--history, which was the goal
based on the title and description i expected the book to focus on sociolinguistics and/or political theory. but it was interesting to see the interconnections between the key figures of African literature, and in a way that taught me more about African--and more specifically Kenyan--history, which was the goal
November 24, 2025
The insights into African literary history were a highlight. I felt that some essays, however, struggled to tie the biographical sections back to the central theme of language. Overall, an incredibly thought-provoking examination of the effects of colonialism on the perception of African language and culture in literary spaces and beyond.
December 21, 2025
This is a Kenyan author who has written many fiction stories but is currently in this book writing a non-fiction about decolonizing language. This is an African focused book primarily focused on Kenya but also on Nigeria, on South Africa, and it in the first half of the book discusses how language came to be colonized in the entire continent of Africa as well as in specific countries and how people have tried to fight back against that. How certain governments modern day governments in these countries have then prioritized English, French etc as the language of education and the best language to even though they have so many languages already present on the continent.
He then in the second half goes on to speak about individual people who have really highlighted the importance of these languages and of decolonizing and using English and French and the other Belgian, German, the other languages less and stopping having such a Eurocentric focus. And it was really interesting to learn about these people because I have only heard of some of them. There was Nelson Mandela, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie and also Chinua Achebe, but I hadn't heard of the other authors and so I really enjoyed learning about that as well as learning more about this author himself and the struggles that he himself has went through.
He was imprisoned for writing in a non-colonized language. I think it might have been Kiswahili, but I'm not sure which language he wrote in. There's a few mentioned and this was just a really educational and interesting book. The chapters aren't too long, so you're able to kind of take in these bite-sized chunks of education, and I really enjoyed learning about it. I always think that too much is written in English. Nowadays, of course, that is primarily promoted by the United States, but we (England) were to blame to begin with. And I think it's so important that Africa is able to rid itself of the huge influence currently of Europe. and they have so much resources of their own that that they can use uh and instead that's getting shipped over to Europe and then we ship it back to them and they have to pay for it. There is so much richness in Africa as a continent both in terms of what is in the soil and in the land but also in the culture and with the people and this is a really great book as like an introduction to that. I really recommend it.
He then in the second half goes on to speak about individual people who have really highlighted the importance of these languages and of decolonizing and using English and French and the other Belgian, German, the other languages less and stopping having such a Eurocentric focus. And it was really interesting to learn about these people because I have only heard of some of them. There was Nelson Mandela, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie and also Chinua Achebe, but I hadn't heard of the other authors and so I really enjoyed learning about that as well as learning more about this author himself and the struggles that he himself has went through.
He was imprisoned for writing in a non-colonized language. I think it might have been Kiswahili, but I'm not sure which language he wrote in. There's a few mentioned and this was just a really educational and interesting book. The chapters aren't too long, so you're able to kind of take in these bite-sized chunks of education, and I really enjoyed learning about it. I always think that too much is written in English. Nowadays, of course, that is primarily promoted by the United States, but we (England) were to blame to begin with. And I think it's so important that Africa is able to rid itself of the huge influence currently of Europe. and they have so much resources of their own that that they can use uh and instead that's getting shipped over to Europe and then we ship it back to them and they have to pay for it. There is so much richness in Africa as a continent both in terms of what is in the soil and in the land but also in the culture and with the people and this is a really great book as like an introduction to that. I really recommend it.
August 1, 2025
Rest in Peace Ngũgi wa Thiong’o.
August 2, 2025
Very informative. at times a little dry.
May 12, 2025
Language and language literacy can be educating and liberating. The comfortably bilingual individual has social and cultural opportunities unavailable to others. Language can also divide people. But who owns language? A language imposed by one community or people on another can be seriously traumatic. The author addresses “decolonization” as much more than geopolitical freedom. He writes that the best way to "decolonize the African mind" is for writers and others to reclaim African languages. Ngugi is an example of a writer noted for a refusal to write in the English language of his Kenyan upbringing. He has adopted his native Gikuyu, a Bantu language of his ethnic heritage, for his writing whenever possible. His earlier book, Decolonizing the Mind: The Politics of Language in African Literature, argues that African language literature is the only authentic voice for Africans. That book was Ngugi’s farewell to English as a vehicle for any of his writing. Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o is a towering figure in African literature, and his novels A Grain of Wheat; Weep Not, Child; and Petals of Blood are modern classics. Emerging from a literary scene that flourished in the 1950s and ’60s during the last years of colonialism in Africa, he is now known not just as a novelist—one who, in the late ’70s, famously stopped writing novels in English and turned to the language he grew up speaking, Kikuyu—but as a major postcolonial theorist. The author also addresses in other essays his thoughts on knowledge and education, enslavement, the university, and other matters which may be affected by language colonizing realities. Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o has been nominated for the Nobel Prize in Literature multiple times, but has not won the award. He is a Kenyan novelist, playwright, and essayist, a giant of African literature, and an advocate for African cultural self-determination.
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