In the Novel, THE WISE ONE OF RAMOGILAND, Joseph R. Alila addresses the role of spirituality in life and politics in a society under cultural and political transitions. As a battery of ‘colonial forces’ conspire against Africa’s old way of life, wizards and prophets, who are loosing clients of the ordinary kind to New Way Churches, are forced to adopt to the new spiritual reality, even if it means taking funny-sounding Greek names.
In this work of fiction, Alila exposes the work of a woman of wisdom (Angelina Nyangi), her Ramogi people, their ways, their political leadership, and the perils of political cohabitation in Kenya’s young, multiethnic, multiparty democracy.
Nyangi’s lifetime experiences remind the reader that modern religious dispensations might have robbed soothsayers and wizards of a lot of clients of the ordinary kind but not the important ones: She discovers that the new political and business elites love to have their ancestors’ “sixth sense” watching over their backs. She is their ancestors’ sixth sense, only she is no prophet.
Now, in her sunset years, Nyangi reminisces about a life well lived, but one which had seen many antsy professional close calls shared between corrupt politicians and such strange clients as a professor of knowledge. If Angelina’s longevity has become abusive, the unseemly conducts of her eldest son and the supposed “Seer-in-waiting” (Thomas) continues to hang around her neck like a bad dream.
Category Archives: Political Satire
JR Alila’s: Rateng’ and Bride (Epic Poem)
In the epic poem, “RATENG’ AND BRIDE,” Joseph R Alila (Author of such novels as “Whisper to My Aching Heart” and Sunset on Polygamy”) pleads with the hero (Rateng’) to abandon a lifelong ambition of reigning in a killer, illusive Bride, and redeeming his honor and Ramogi people’s collective pride.
Of Rateng’s illusive Bride-call her Power, Leadership or The Presidency-Alila reminds his hero of her corrupting, material allure and deadly charms. Like a gem, a Powerful Presidency corrupts everybody it touches, and its corrupting effects linger like the nauseating smell of a scared skunk.
Employing rich imagery and proverbs, and never shy to go Luo vernacular with proverbs, in “RATENG’ AND BRIDE,” Alila has played his satirical hand, again, and demonstrated his knowledge of the political landscape of Kenya.
Thirteen Curses on Mother Africa
Looking back to Joseph R Alila’s epic poem, THIRTEEN CURSES ON MOTHER AFRICA, I shudder as to how much change has taken place in Africa since 2007. A number of dictatorships have gone or are in peril. Get it here
http://www.amazon.com/Joseph-R.-Alila/e/B002QD5TDM
You’re Innocent Until Proved Guilty
“You’re Innocent until proved guilty!” That is the catchphrase in Nairobi these days; whether you are a member of parliament hounded by corruption and drug-traffing allegations, or a son of a chief warrior in Mr. Ocampo’s cross-airs, rest easy in your official chair, “you are innocent until proved guilty!” The phrase is so cool that it whitewashes most of your guilt. If you are an MP, any traces of guilt are taken care of by friends in parliament, who have the power to change any law. Kenyan’s, we are in interesting times.
Write!
http://www.amazon.com/Joseph-R.-Alila/e/B002QD5TDM
In my poetry, I am not a protest artist, but rather I am an unwilling, untrained artist disillusioned with the world, Africa and Kenya; I am imperfect yet I find myself calling AU, Africa, Kenya to reform their ways. I have done this at a disadvantage because I have no training to “poetize,” if there is such a word. But I am not alone; my inspiration are our village poets–the soloists who sing their hearts out like birds of the field; they were born with the same voice as any of us; the difference is that they answered the call to mourn or praise in song. The widows in my village sang their hearts out for their departed; we called the timid who never opened their mouths to their departed husbands “mon ma numu” (half-baked or raw wives), and doubted their love for their departed. Then we considered the man who never sang a war song a boy. What I have said is that poetry like singing is as natural as sneezing. Write.
Kenyan Politician: It is Political Cruntch Time
It is crunch time in Kenyan politics; 2012 is upon us. Warrior A from L House is vying for the “Premiership,” his following in L House is rock solid; his national image is emerge immense. But Kenya is a tribal animal, and the rules of the hunt have changed recently; the politics of patronage and “ndeta to ndeti” (grease my palm as I grease yours) is a thing of the past. Even then tribe still dominates the political DNA of Kenyans. Who is Warrior A of L House going to form a partnership as a running mate? Is Warrior B of K House or Warrior C of KK House, either of whom come from voter-rich areas, the ideal running mate? Must warrior A worry about the moral credentials of either Warriors B or C or should he tap into the fanatic following Warrior C enjoys from KK House? Can Warior B, a man of royal blood, tranfer the loyalty of his voters to Warrior A? There will be a lot of dead political stars in Kenya’s gallaxy after 2012, that is a given, thanks to new rules of the political game, and a man known as Ocampo and his ICC Judges. But as a political counselor, what must the Wise One tell politicians whose stars are runing out of the metaphorical fusion-fuel gas? Such are the issues the Wise One has to struggle with as she midwifes politicians in political peril.
Read JR Alila’s The Wise One of Ramogiland (A Novel)
http://www.amazon.com/Joseph-R.-Alila/e/B002QD5TDM
Who is the Luo Man’s First Wife?
Who is a Luo man’s first wife? Is she the bird who made her nest first or the bird whose dowry (in livestock) he settled first?
When is marriage a marriage, spiritually? Was Leah Jacob’s First wife? How can we tell?
The Luo case is a vexing spiritual question, just as Jacob’s case was?
Read JR Alila’s The Wise One of Ramogiland
http://www.amazon.com/Joseph-R.-Alila/e/B002QD5TDM
Readers and Fans
I have a few copies of my novels to give away for good summer readers.
Leave a comment here.
JR Alila
http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B002QD5TDM
Ways of the Wise 2
Having listened to the Preeminent Warrior’s political situation, presented in a five-minute oral presentation that had ended with the question, “Will a grandson of Ramogi ever be the Premier of this country?” the Seer gave the Warrior an immediate response—a very unsettling response.
“I have not seen your imminent ascendancy at the horizon, even as your future is bright,” Thomas responded in a very flat tone—an almost emotionless tone.
“What is that?” the Warrior asked. The Seer’s response had surprised him because he, the Preeminent Warrior, had not asked about the possibility of his ascendancy to the Premiership. His question had been a general one, yet he got back a specific response.
“Your ascendancy is not imminent,” Thomas, the Seer, said with a tonal finality that cleared any doubts in the visitor’s mind.
“But you also said that I have a bright future. How can that be, if I can’t ascend to the Premiership?” the Warrior had almost shouted as he said this, but lowered his tone in response to a hand signal from the Seer. Nobody shouted at the Seer.
“Yes. Not of this country,” the Seer responded.
“Then how can my future be bright?” asked the Warrior.
“My fellow elder, how many people did not see the
light of day, and did not feel the warmth of this sun, today?
Some must have died traveling on roads; some succumbed to hunger, and others to disease. Yet, you and I are blessed to be sharing this moment over a pot of tea.”
“You amaze me, My Seer,” the Warrior said in resignation.
The truth can be damning. Still, he was sore. “How can a Ramogi Warrior be reduced to mere existence? Wasn’t his purpose in life supposed to be higher than just being alive?”
The Pre-eminent Warrior wanted to ask the Seer that, but
recoiled at the thought.
But the Seer could have been reading his mind: “Not at all. You cannot be a candidate for the Premiership from the grave,” Thomas continued to nail his point into the Warrior’s sore self-esteem.
“I have seen the point,” grumbled the Warrior.
“But you are going to be a great man in other ways. The
future of this Nation, and the world are tied to your life.”
“So all the noises about my being ahead in the current
polls is for nothing?”
“Not at all. That is why you have a bright future,” the Seer uttered these words to mollify the Warrior’s feelings.
“There is no way out?” the warrior asked.
In asking this question, the Warrior had thought that the Seer had visions of what the future had held, and if the brightness could have been changed.
“My friend, a Seer sees what is coming. He also may see what could have been but won’t because it could have been sweet but short-lived—only to be very bitter in the long run.”
“Is it?” the Pre-eminent Warrior asked expectantly.
“The Seer also sees a traumatic path; a path traumatic at the beginning, only to be very bright at the end,” the Seer offered the final piece of the riddle from his mind.
“Do I have a choice?”
“The word I gave at the beginning is what you need,
and not what you asked for,” the Seer implored the expectant
Warrior.
The Pre-eminent Warrior thought for a while then
asked, “You really can see all of that?”
“My fellow elder, are you losing faith in my work? I have told you what I see,” the Seer said.
The Pre-eminent Warrior was at a loss on what to say. He felt like asking to be given either the short-lived bliss or the traumatic beginning, but could not.
“My friend, I can see that your heart is heavy.”
“True.”
“Can you be happy to be the Premier in two months, but from a wheel chair?”
“Are you offering that?”
“I offer nothing. I don’t have that ability. Do you need this thing so badly that you would lose your limbs for it?” queried the Seer.
“I am sorry. I didn’t mean that. Can I withdraw my Candidacy then?” the Pre-eminent Warrior asked.
“How could your future be bright if you were to do that?” challenged the Seer.
Having listened to the Pre-eminent Warrior’s political situation, presented in a five-minute oral presentation that had ended with the question, “Will a grandson of Ramogi ever be the Premier of this country?” the Seer gave the Warrior an immediate response—a very unsettling response.
“I have not seen your imminent ascendancy at the horizon, even as your future is bright,” Thomas responded in a very flat tone—an almost emotionless tone.
“What is that?” the Warrior asked. The Seer’s response had surprised him because he, the Pre-eminent Warrior, had not asked about the possibility of his possible ascendancy. His question had been a general one, yet he got back a specific response.
“Your ascendancy is not imminent,” Thomas, the Seer, said with a tonal finality that cleared any doubts in the visitor’s mind.
“But you also said that I have a bright future. How can that be if I cannot ascend to the Premiership?” the Warrior had almost shouted as he said this, but lowered his tone in response to a hand signal from the Seer. Nobody shouted at the Seer.
“Yes. Not of this country,” the Seer responded.
“Then how can my future be bright?” asked the Warrior.
“My fellow elder, how many people did not see the
light of day, and did not feel the warmth of this sun, today?
Some must have died traveling on roads; some succumbed to hunger, and others to disease. Yet, you and I are blessed to be sharing this moment over a pot of tea.”
“You amaze me, My Seer,” the Warrior said in resignation.
The truth can be damning. Still, he was sore. “How can a Ramogi Warrior be reduced to mere existence? Wasn’t his purpose in life supposed to be higher than just being alive?”
The Pre-eminent Warrior wanted to ask the Seer that, but
recoiled at the thought.
But the Seer could have been reading his mind: “Not at all. You cannot be a candidate for the Premiership from the grave,” Thomas continued to nail his point into the Warrior’s sore self-esteem.
“I have seen the point,” grumbled the Warrior.
“But you are going to be a great man in other ways. The
future of this Nation, and the world are tied to your life.”
“So all the noises about my being ahead in the current
polls is for nothing?”
“Not at all. That is why you have a bright future,” the Seer uttered these words to mollify the Warrior’s feelings.
“There is no way out?” the warrior asked.
In asking this question, the Warrior had thought that the Seer had visions of what the future had held, and if the brightness could have been changed.
“My friend, a Seer sees what is coming. He also may see what could have been but won’t because it could have been sweet but short-lived—only to be very bitter in the long run.”
“Is it?” the Pre-eminent Warrior asked expectantly.
“The Seer also sees a traumatic path; a path traumatic at the beginning, only to be very bright at the end,” the Seer offered the final piece of the riddle from his mind.
“Do I have a choice?”
“The word I gave at the beginning is what you need,
and not what you asked for,” the Seer implored the expectant
Warrior.
The Pre-eminent Warrior thought for a while then
asked, “You really can see all of that?”
“My fellow elder, are you losing faith in my work? I have told you what I see,” the Seer said.
The Pre-eminent Warrior was at a loss on what to say. He felt like asking to be given either the short-lived bliss or the traumatic beginning, but could not.
“My friend, I can see that your heart is heavy.”
“True.”
“Can you be happy to be the Premier in two months, but from a wheel chair?”
“Are you offering that?”
“I offer nothing. I don’t have that ability. Do you need this thing so badly that you would lose your limbs for it?” queried the Seer.
“I am sorry. I didn’t mean that. Can I withdraw my Candidacy then?” the Pre-eminent Warrior asked.
“How could your future be bright if you were to do that?” challenged the Seer.
ARE WE A LITERATE GENERATION?
I publish from abroad on great Kenyan political and cultural themes. My Novels have been rated by aliens as “Literary,” (Not on My Skin; Sins of Our Hearts) ”For the times” (The Luo Dreamers Odyssey); “Messianic” (The Wise One of Ramogiland); “A novel for a woman’s heart ” (Whisper to My Aching Heart), and the list of comments continues. But I wonder if we are still a reading generation, with library cards. Yet back home in East Africa, literary critics decrying of a literary drought, meaning that nobody writes a novel that begs you to think; a novel that goes beyond the emotion and demands that the reader reads between the lines. I am not exactly young, having been born in the mid 1950s, but my point of view was not tainted by colonial strings. All I remember as a little boy of six was my mother playing activist for either KANU or KADU; all I remember growing up was the order of the sixties descending into the strife of the late sixties and early seventies, as Kenyan leaders turned their guns of hate onto other Kenyans. Yet it was a Kenya where you applied for a post and received a response in the mail, it was a Kenya in which you went to a school you chose, your grades allowing. All that was until the so-called “district focus.” My writings are shaped by personal experiences in the 1960s to the19190s. But as a traveled man, some of my novels such as NOT OF MY SKIN, THE CHOIR MASTER, SINS OF OUR HEARTS, THE LUO DREAMERS ODYSSEY: FROM THE SUDAN TO AMERICAN POWER and THE AMERICAN POLYGAMIST borrow from my diaspora experience (17 years is a long time on the road!).
But even as I write, I doubt if we as Kenyans, Africans, Americans, Europeans, Asians and Diaspora Africans still read. How many of us can sustain a debate without being abusive? Very few. How many of us can talk sense to a woman or man? Not many. The art of dialogue and verbal persuasion is dead in us. Don’t tell me that “But I managed to round up a man or woman up with whom I share the house.” That is the point: you don’t want to call her ”my wife” or him “my husband.” The reason he or she has not walked with you to some man or woman of God to tie the vows is because you lack the verbal abilities of generations before, that priorities have changed for women and men since ten years ago, just made your verbal task and marriage chances the more difficult.
Read relevantly to empower yourself as a human being who can think, talk and act. Read.
Get Novels by JR Alila here:
http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B002QD5TDM
