by Harris Aliyu

Because of the massiveness of creative writers in the universe, many African-American writers have committed themselves to the act of treachery, which I called ‘The Exploit of Malicious Writing That Secretly Censures Africa.’  

As some Africans aspired the western way of life, so does the westerners seeks to jaunt to Africa. To artist and other creative writers; Africa is a perfect domicile of inspiration. They admired the beautiful tropical forest and the adorable sea breeze.

Despite all the so-called Afro-base catastrophes: hunger, starvation and the fact thatmillions of children dies of incurable Infectious deceases. Social incapability exists everywhere. Each province has it own kind – painted at the blank pages of their faces. And it is unanimously clear that; in every point of greatness, there must be a crux of weakness.

Because of the massiveness of creative writers in the universe, many African-American writers have committed themselves to the act of treachery, which I called ‘The Exploit of Malicious Writing That Secretly Censures Africa.’  Crafty writers, blatantly defy their countries in spite of a pocket-sized achievement – getting worldwide readership.

Some of the writers who are committed to telling the African stories have nothing in mind but ‘to come in to view of foreign publishers’. While to others; it becomes a systematic way of outwitting rivals.

Fame: is like a runny substance, that naturally flows on the direction of a slanted surface, and happiness is the glowing lights that shines deep in an exultant entity. Its reflection on those who strained to be happy is less and presumes to fleet soon enough, or someday.

In the world of readership, I knew that I’m extremely different when it comes to foreign books written about Africa. Mostly, people chases the plot, others admires the cover portrait – the smells, and sometimes beauty of the cover blending. While to me, I will firstly tried to spot out it effects on Africans and our diverse ethnic groups. What Africans needs to do best is to adopt the praxis of arguing for their honor even if to say Africa is at fault – believing that one day we will surely get off the ground.

Stories like, how African slave ends up in Tippu Tip’s expedition, comprising of over 4,000 slaves. With that of, the ongoing horrific conflicts afoot between the ethnically Arab Janjaweeds and the victimized African citizens. Which led to over 400,000 surplus deaths, and about 2,850,000 people displaced (UN guesstimate).

These kinds of stories are huge market for western publishers. They are surely the taste of these wealthy white men, who at times think they’re rich enough to feel responsible – not only for the diverse African continent, but also the world at large.

Telling this kind of stories ad nauseam is like; trying to make the world believe that, all Africans (no exception) are still living like the characters of Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart.

It once had been too hard for me to agree with W.E.B. Dubois when he says in his ‘Criteria of Negro Art,‘ that all “Art is propaganda.” I can bet with all my thoughts that ‘How can it be possible for someone to use the act of creating beautiful things in their way of propagandism?’

In his controversial essay; Dubois says that, he read about a young Negro writer whose stories were always welcomed in a magazine, but rejected when he tried out to write about the things around him, saying “This kind of stories are uninteresting to white folks”.

In his confusion, the clever boy settled down to rewrite his work. He changed his characters from Negroes to white folks. His setting being the ghetto side changed, but remained the theme and the plot.

With this little idea, I easily become ‘fully’ convinced at the end of the story. He resubmitted the work under different title, different author name, and have his story accepted by the same magazine that had once rejected it, promising to take in anything he will offer in the future, providing it is good enough.

What will you do to a child who exposes his family’s impotence for the world to see? These censurers aren’t better than such a child, because they have done nothing to change anything.

Every piece of fiction is a descriptive imagination of such author, about a place and the people living in it. The Africa they knew or heard about fifty years ago is not the same as the one we live in today, and I think, it’s unethical to say we didn’t prosper.

Fiction is supposed to be an untrue piece of writing not collection of lies, and if it must be one, then the writer must consider making it a harmless one. Lies are like the red colors of the rainbow – something that even a Cyclops can easily see.

If you belong to Africa by birth or anything else that nationalized an individual, you need to learn how to relish the fruit you have on ground, not the ones hanging on top of the tree. Good African will always envisage mango as an apple.

The only story that western literary publishers welcome from Africa is described in Binyavanga Wainana’s superlative article called ‘How to write about Africa’ He says, if you were to write about Africa and have your stories published. In your characters, make sure you include ‘…The starving African, who wonders the refugee camp nearly naked, and waits for the benevolence of the West’, he added ‘…Her children have flies on their eyelids and pot bellies, and her breast were flat and empty.’ And ‘She must look utterly helpless. She can have no pass, no history’. Anything prior to that is considered non-African or untrue.

Let’s take Nigeria for instance. What do you know about Nigeria? If you are from the north, have you ever been to the south…? Did you ever travel to Lagos? What do you know about Kaduna, and the people living In Kano, Port Harcourt, Lagos or Ibadan?

If to say we love and respect Africa for what it evolves to be in the present time, a story as true as Chinelo Okparanta’s Runs Girls is suppose to take place elsewhere around Ogbede not in mid Port Harcourt.

Before you start writing anything about Nigeria, please, make sure you understood the meaning of WaZoBiya: Three different majority tribes and hundreds more different tribal groups, who live in different places, practice different religion and spoke different languages. All and sundry, bounded together in one piece to form a single country. Nigeria – dozens spirits in one body.

As Chimamanda Adichie once says, ‘…realist fiction is above all the process of turning facts in to truth…’ You as African writer; what is your vision and mission about Africa? How many facts are you willing to turns in to reality? How much do you think your writing can influence  Africans, and the tendency that it will bring some changes to our mother Africa or the native soil on which you belongs to?

White folks promotes their country through movies, animations, video games, visual realities and lots of other technologies through which they present to the world their factual believes and descriptive imaginations of what their country (which they all cherished and loved very much) is going to be in the future.

They clung to the theme of ‘strong beliefs and great achievements’. They have dreams of building mansions, offices and prisons in space. They believe that one day robots can be able to do the police job: It will work in their offices, homes and do their heavy works. We have all seen in their movies; how common civilians not even soldiers, fought and died in saving their country.

Chinese are busy telling stories like heroes defeating villains, Indians are telling stories about love and compassion, stories like; prince dying for his princess. While Africans are too busy feeding the world with their stories of hungers and tragic catastrophes. This is no doubt an act of losers, action of those who are delicate enough to take advantage of their own vulnerability.

If the modern African stories are openly being rejected in the west, why not tell our own stories to our own people? It might not change the fact that Africans are starving, but the future always learns from the past. We cannot let Publishers change who we truly are! Just imagine how many people we can encourage and motivate through writing.

It is indeed true that Africa is a place stuffed with unbelievable stories that truly happens. Chronicles like ‘The long way gone’ of Ishmael Beah of Sierra Leone, who as a child: held heavy guns, experienced terrible violence, and killed people as much as he could remember.

One time, I caught my self feeling a little shilly-shally about some of the stories, because they reminisce about the Africa of long-ago. It dredges up the memory of our crowdie untidy hospitals with shaky electricity, and the image of our roads crammed with potholes. And I remember the time when thousands of people died of hunger and AIDS everyday.

But luckily today, the yarn about unskillful doctors, poor roads and electricity is over – in the major cities, so open your mind and enjoy the new Africa.

What Africans lacks the most is senses of belonging, not food or electricity. We are all aware of our greatest problems; corruption in politics, abuse of power and the fact that our unruly youths losing hope is the thing that creates the world ninth-class terrorist.

Hope is everything, why do we risk loosing it? Our problems are always fading, and why do we create another one?

African-American is not the Black who moved to, or was borne in the west. He is surely the upright African; who after spending twenty five years of fruitful life in the west, without comings and goings – still adores his diverse African customs and styles. She wore atampa and scarf on special occassions (if a woman), and jumper or Babban Riga and Damanga hat on Fridays – if a man.

Africans who portrayed them selves as westerners, those who obsolete their costumes and throwaway their valuable norms and ethics: are like the fairy apes that lose their tales; jumped out of their hairy skin, and tried to outrun their two tiny legs – off the jungle.

Our funny interest in novelty and beauty: our dulling delusion of ‘completely adjusting’ are the reasons why Africa becomes contemptible in the faces of non Africans and the eyes of the world at large.

It will be extremely funny to see a white American fully dressed up in dagomba or buba and dara hat.

We can never be Americans because the color of our skin matters in every issue regarding our true identity, and our race shall always be associated to Africa.

Consequently, I’m passively sure that; an Igbo person, who stayed running business in Northern Nigeria for over 30 years, cannot be termed as ‘Igbo-Hausa man.’ He is still an Igbo man, and shall bigot any Aboki – who stereotype the Anyamuris.

Therefore, I hereby encourage you Africans to stay in the line; write to inspire not to bore. We are Africans not people of color; we were neither born in refugee camp nor slavery, we are young Africans who were borne in luxurious (government) hospitals with air-conditioners, and specialized doctors diligently engaged to welcoming us in to the beautiful forest.

A single pen can change the world forever. That’s the Power Of Words.

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Op-ed pieces and contributions are the opinions of the writers only and do not represent the opinions of Y!/YNaija.