When Africa meets the world and still keeps its roots alive

French President Emmanuel Macron and President William Ruto at the AFrica Forward Le concert at Kasarani indoor arena in Nairobi. [David Gichuru, Standard]

French President Emmanuel Macron was in town this week. And he touched off a storm on social media when he urged the audience to keep quiet and listen to the proceedings at the Africa Forward Summit: Africa–France Partnerships for Innovation and Growth, which was taking place in Nairobi on Monday and Tuesday.

Acres of space were written on social media about Macron, France, Europe, colonialism, diplomatic reciprocity and geopolitics. I’ll leave these to the social media streets and focus on culture

Someone wrote that since civilisation began in Africa, the cradle of mankind, no one should lecture Africa on morality and culture.

True, Greek philosophers such as Pythagoras are believed to have travelled to Egypt to study mathematics, religion and philosophy from Egyptian priests and scholars. Historians still debate the extent of that influence and there is broad scholarly agreement that ancient Egyptian civilisation greatly influenced early Greek learning and philosophy.

That said, I still think it is a little too late in the day for humanity to go on as if we are in the misty past when the continents existed as islands with minimal contact with each other. True, even as we globalise, the rainbow cultures of the world each bring something to the table.

Africa brings to the table its culture of Ubuntu, and, of course, a lot of natural wealth. The West brings, among other things, its rational heritage, a wealth of theories and understanding of how things work in the modern world, and so on and so forth.

We no longer live in the autochthonous world where libations and traditional spirituality shaped communal life, as described by John S. Mbiti in “African Religions and Philosophy”. Mbiti shows that while Western spirituality evolved through formal theology and philosophy, African spirituality was embedded in daily life, ritual and communal existence rather than abstract theory. A similar argument is made by Okot p’Bitek in Artist the Ruler, especially in the essay “The Cancer of Metaphysics.” There, p’Bitek echoes John S Mbiti’s view that while the West first theorised life, Africans simply lived it. Yet, in the end, we all seek the same things.

By now, everyone knows that we in Africa do not live in trees. And children of Africa today learn and speak European languages. Why, those who have the means take their children to Western-style schools.

So the world today is one. We may have our post-colonial tensions and it is all very well to bring up the pains of the colonial past, but we are here today. In fact, I think we are no longer caught between the puritanical Ubuntu of the Africa of yore and the traditional, rational theorisation of life in the West. We are spoilt for choice.

We live in the world captured in Questions of Travel, where Elizabeth Bishop reflects on whether it is better to remain at home imagining distant places or to venture out and experience the world firsthand. Renowned for her precise imagery and themes of travel, belonging and displacement, Bishop explores the tension between rootedness and discovery.

Shared humanity

In the spirit of the poem, we may choose to imagine a place, as Western rationalism often encourages, or experience it firsthand, as Africa’s lived traditions invite us to do. What, then, does this dualism, the yin of African Ubuntu and the yang of Western thought, reveal about our literature and culture? Come with me.

Literature is a mirror of life. We cannot, for instance, expect the Gen Zs to write about colonialism or the one-party days.

We have a treasure trove of literary outpouring from those momentous events of the past, but it would be naïve to expect a generation for whom names like Francis Imbuga and Joseph Kamotho do not ring a bell to take to literature set in the one-party era like fish to water. By the same token, it would be unfair for the talented among Gen Zs to write about a past they hardly know. We must, therefore, boldly embrace the world as it is today rather than idealise and romanticise the past.

True, we still return to our traditions. In Tharaka-Nithi County, for instance, initiation rites are still marked through song and ritual, though increasingly fused with modern rhythms. During Kisii Esagasaga nights today, traditional music blends with rhumba, rhythm and blues, bongo and other global influences.

While I do not begrudge anyone the right to reflect on Africa’s historical ties with Europe, we must remember that many Africans today live, work, marry and die in Europe. The world may not yet fully embrace our shared humanity, but we are far from where we once were.

Thankfully, we do not just have to mirror that world in our writings. We also have the option of creating a better one. Writers are co-creators who often use their works to share visions for a better society.

On this, allow me to revisit The River Between, where Kameno and Makuyu ridges face each other like angry lions. In our case, they mirror Western rationality and Africa’s lived heritage. Yet Ngugi wa Thiong’o reminds us that a better world lies in embracing Western knowledge while preserving Ubuntu and enduring African values.

The same vision emerges in Silent Honor. The novel follows Hiroko Takashimaya, a young Japanese woman who travels to the United States shortly before the outbreak of the Second World War. After the attack on Pearl Harbor, she is transformed from a respected foreign student into a target of suspicion and hostility.

Yet despite war, prejudice and cultural tension, the story ends in reconciliation and cross-cultural understanding. Its message is clear: humanity advances not through fear and isolation, but through dialogue, coexistence and shared humanity.

Yes, we endured heavy traffic and other inconveniences linked to summits such as the Africa Forward Summit, but to me they reflect how far we have come and the wisdom needed as we move forward, rather than retreating nostalgically into the puritan world of the past.