CELEBRATING LEWIS NKOSI AND HIS SUBLIME HUMOUR

By O BOLAJI

When an illustrious African writer like Lewis Nkosi departs this world, the sorrow is profound for lovers of literature. Our consolation however is that we can always read and re-read the excellent literary works they leave behind.

In the case of Lewis Nkosi, the success of his novel, Mating Birds was quite staggering and the literary acclaim he garnered – and continues to garner – awesome. Yet for me, it is the humour in the work that always sticks in my mind. Although I say “humour” it is actually biting irony; as the perceptive reader, regardless of colour, realises how inhumane and horrific the erstwhile apartheid system was in South Africa.

Mating Birds on the surface is a simplistic work, brilliantly narrated in the first person by a young black man who had committed a terrible “crime” during the apartheid era – he had “raped” a white woman! In those days sexual relations between the different colours was strictly forbidden, hence the protagonist was facing the death sentence – which was duly passed on him (death by hanging)

But the primary irony is that Sibiya, the protagonist of the work had not actually raped the white woman; we can see clearly throughout the work that the lady liked him, and was even sexually attracted to him. She keeps on encouraging his interest in her which includes his coming to watch her at the beach, following her around, her not minding him hanging around just outside her home; and ultimately the prelude to his “rape” was when she took all her clothes off and despite seeing him just outside her home, she still does not close her door!

Nevertheless according to the laws of the time, the protagonist had committed a terrible crime, and had to die for it. The author, Lewis Nkosi subtly and intelligently shows the world that neither the white woman (Veronica) nor Sibiya were really guilty (the white lady had to lie in court that she was raped by a black man anyway; how could she ever admit that she welcomed his attentions?) – the real culprit was the apartheid system that completely disallowed any sort of intercourse between people from different races, with romance and its ilk a taboo!

As I have said, it is the “humour” or ironical devices that give this novel its haunting, lambent, unforgettable impact. Here I shall reproduce a few examples in celebration of the literary genius of the author, Lewis Nkosi. Whilst in the University, a key lecturer white explains to students like Sibiya that “whether we like it or not, African history commences with the arrival on African soil of the first white man. The history of Africa is the history not of black Africans but of white men in a foreign environment...”

The Court case of Sibiya for the rape of the white woman is a cause celebre with the young black man portrayed as a devil incarnate who had violated a hapless, white woman. After her testimony in court about her “rape”, the whites are outraged and incandescent with rage: Our narrator says: “(Hers) was a magnificent performance. A number of white men rose as if preparing to leap over the public galleries in order to get at my black carcass...others were crying ‘Lynch the (baboon)!”

Even the prosecuting lawyer has no time for Sibiya’s protests of defence that the white woman had encouraged him amorously; the prosecutor shouts at Sibiya in court: “You think a white madam can feel flattered by being gazed at by a baboon like you!” This from a learned lawyer!

Another white man in court bursts out: “Why not cut off his filthy black dingus, the rotten swine!”

That Sibiya is sexually drawn to Veronica, the white girl is never in doubt. The narrative reaches a crescendo as he finally realises his dream and takes her rather wildly inside her own room. She is clearly a willing participant in what is going on, but Sibiya realises only too well that he is throwing his whole life away by having sex with her. Death by hanging loomed! Yet the protagonist has reached a point of no-return; a situation reiterated by a brilliantly terse, grim, oxymoronic line which is also arguably a double entendre as he makes love with Veronica: “but come what may, I was determined to reach my climax,”

As he ultimately waits to be hanged in gaol, Sibiya reflects on everything and “bonds” with an eminent criminologist in the process, Dr Dufre (the Doctor is preparing an exhaustive study on the “criminal” Sibiya). Near the end, we are blithely told by our protagonist: “Upon the publication of his study, Dr Dufre will (receive) accolades for having conducted an illuminating study of the tormented mind of an African criminal (Sibiya). At least one person, I am glad to say, will benefit from (this tragedy)”

It is by the use of such profound, yet haunting irony (or as I dub it “humour”) that the author complements one of the greatest works ever churned out in African literature.

* O Bolaji is the author of imaginative books like Impossible Love (2000) The ghostly adversary (2001) People of the Townships (2003) Tebogo and the Haka (2008)Tebogo and the epithalamion (2009) and Tebogo and the pantophagist (2010)