Wole, Wole, Wole.

On November 5th I attended the opening ceremony of the 20th Annual Conference of the Pan African Writers' Association (PAWA) in Accra. I was going for Wole,and Wole only. Yes, the other thinkers on the panel had inspired me at several junctures - Professor Francis Abiola Irele's (now at Harvard's department of African and African American studies) canonical writings on the African novel have been important educational tools for me - but when it comes to African literature there are two names that stand out. One is overdue for his Nobel Prize: Chinua Achebe. The other is the winner of the 1986 Nobel Prize in Literature: Wole Soyinka.

Like most African hosted events, the ceremony began much later than it was supposed to - an hour and a half later, to be exact. Everything that happens in "Sun, Sweat, and Marraige," a short story I wrote my sophomore year, happens because an event does not begin at the time it's supposed to. After reading the story, my colleagues were surprised that I was able to write an entire story on "lateness," and make it realistic. If only they knew that for me, writing about lateness is writing about daily life in Africa. Just like they were writing about their American realities - a Thanksgiving dinner gone wrong, a hapless 4th of July, or a summer trip to the shore - so was I writing about my African reality. In Ghana - and I can comfortably extend this to all of Africa - even some of the most enlightened citizens, like the organizers of the PAWA event, fall victim to what I can't help but deem an inherently African trait. I know there's probably a philosophical discussion that could be had on this - what does this penchant for delay mean? - but I'll leave that for later.

Not too long after it began, I think it was after the introductions and welcome speech, it all came to a halt. The power went out and they didn't have a generator on site. So we waited another 30 minutes as nobody could hear what was being said without the microphone, somewhat entertained by drumplay (I say somewhat because a lot of us were annoyed), for the power to return. And when the lights surrounding the cabana style stage came back on, the microphones decided they'd give out too. So for a while speakers spoke without being actually heard. All this probably sounds too ridiculous to be true but I couldn't make this up...I don't even think anyone would believe it in a fictional piece. But it happened, and it happened to the tune of groans. Miraculously, when Wole Soyinka rose for his remarks, the microphones decided to work.

At his age, over 70 years, I was impressed by his vigor. And then there's his hair, classic. His thesis was straightforward: Was the election of Barack Obama as President of the United States a sign of the end to the "vs." condition of human nature? Could we, Africans, finally give up on our "us" vs. "them" mentality? Before answering the question, he asked us to consider another: Did the collapse of the Berlin Wall bring forth an end to class warfare? Certainly not! So does that then mean that the election of Barack Obama will not bring an end to the deep rooted versus condition? Not exactly. What the election offered Africans was an opportunity for revisionism.

Soyinka reminded us of the iconic image of the little frightened black American girl being escorted to school by Southern guards at the height of the Civil Rights Movement. At the instant that photograph was taken (in the 1960s), a same photograph could have been taken of a young African girl in one of the many African countries ruled by dictators. Unfortunately for that little African girl, the same photograph could be taken of her daughter or granddaughter in present day Africa, in Zimbabwe maybe. Obama's ascension to the presidency does not bring an end to the versus condition; instead, the African is encountering the parallels between his life and that of the American. By virtue of his father's nationality, the African calls him (Obama) brother. From there, the African opens himself up to the possible likeness between his existence and that of the American. Because with his interest in Obama, he is naturally exposed to the struggles of not just African Americans, but of Jews, Muslims, The Japanese, The Indians, etc, and is compelled to revise his theory of "us vs. them." The result? There may be a new African on the horizon, one who may, just may, see "us" in "them."

Not forgetting his day job, Soyinka discussed the effect this gentle wave of revisionism is having on African writers. Truth is, there's nothing original about a narrative focusing on the crimes against Africa. Certainly not the ones focusing on the West's crimes against Africa. Today, no applause will be offered to the writer who simply revisits the themes of "Things Fall Apart" and "Death and the King's Horseman." But much of Africa's intellectual thought and production has been in reaction to these wrongs. Probably more than any other writers, African writers use their mediums to protest against these wrongs and advocate for a better Africa. So where does that leave today's African writers, especially those seeking prolificacy. Today's writer must not only recognize this "wave" brought on by Obama's election but also globalization's role in the emergence of this revisionist mentality. He or she must know that now, there are many nuances, delicacies, that will not allow Okwonkwo's (or a recreation of Okwonkwo) demise to come at the hands of Western control alone. Africa is now part of a wider world, today, Okwonkwo's demise - if still the result of some kind of association with the West - may have more to do with him and those who look like him that those who don't.

After the ceremony, I made my way into the VIP lounge. Let me be more accurate, I forced my way there and was able to introduce myself to Mr. Soyinka. Though we didn't talk for long, I appreciate the opportunity I had to sell myself to him as "the next great African writer." I think he thought I was crazy, but at least he smiled.