‘Aid is killing African literature’
So, Bwesigye, how did the idea of Writivism come about?That is a hard question. Writivism was an almost knee-jerk reaction to the lack of access to quality African Literature on the continent by readers like myself. All the trauma from attempts to find quality African Literature published on the continent led to discussions that formed […]
So, Bwesigye, how did the idea of Writivism come about?
That is a hard question. Writivism was an almost knee-jerk reaction to the lack of access to quality African Literature on the continent by readers like myself. All the trauma from attempts to find quality African Literature published on the continent led to discussions that formed what we now know as Writivism. From Facebook interactions, it is easy to see that there is a lot of good literature being produced on the continent. But hit the book shop in Harare, Kampala, Abuja and other cities and you can’t find it. Distribution channels for African Literature on the continent almost do not exist. It is easier to find books in our bookshops when the books are published in the West. As a result, some aspiring African writers prefer to relocate to the West, and surely no one can blame them, because the infrastructure for their development is almost non-existent on the continent. As interested parties (I love to read African books but also would like to not suffer so much when I write good fiction in the future, with issues like getting published and my book reaching readers), with a number of African writers and readers, we decided we could try to contribute to the solution through a continent-wide program we named Writivism.
Interesting. This is the second year of Writivism and it has spread continent wide. Did you envisage this when it started?
Yes, the programme has spread. We did envisage this growth but not as early as it came. The conversations that led to the founding of the programme involved writers and readers from the whole continent. Naseemah Mohamed, a co-founder of the Center for African Cultural Excellence – CACE (that houses the program) is Zimbabwean, Zukiswa Wanner, she who is a god-mother of sorts for the programme, having given instrumental advice and support in those first days of shaping the program is pan-African (Zambia-born to Zimbabwean and South African parents and lives in Kenya), Novuyo Rosa Tshuma, who put together much of the paper-work for the program, and administered it for a year is Zimbabwean, and was living in South Africa then, and of course your fellow country-men Emmanuel Iduma, Dami Ajayi, Onyeka Nwelue and yourself with whom we were in constant touch, since the 2012 Short Story Day Africa Chain-Story Challenge that we won! Your other country-mates Richard Ali and Ukamaka Olisakwe graciously accepted to join us when we asked them to mentor the first cohort of emerging writers on the program, although all the mentees were Ugandan. So, that Pan-African vision was there from the start. We focused on Uganda in the first year, to pilot the idea, but also to grow roots somewhere but the vision was a Pan-African one to begin with.
There have been challenges in administering the prize and the festival, which held in Kampala this June. Can you tell us more about these?
Oh Yes. For a start-up like CACE, at two years, the challenges have been elephant-size. It is not yet easy enough to explain to people in the business and government sectors why it is important to support the arts and literature specifically. There is also an NGO-culture that is killing the creative industries. There is a big mindset problem among people of our generation who have got used to being paid transport allowances and per-diems to be trained. You invite 23 emerging writers for a workshop, that will benefit them and their careers and about 5 of them do not turn up because they expect you to pay them a transport allowance and other allowances to attend this workshop. Just imagine! We work with very reputable, established and kind writers who offer their time and skills to support and mentor emerging writers at no fee, and you have these emerging writers missing deadlines, not replying emails, not working on their stories and somehow in the evaluation forms, some are bold enough to say that they should be paid to be mentored! Aid has killed us. The worst of all is when these same people who see opportunities and let them go because they are waiting for some aid money to feed them, instead of growing their careers complain that there are no writing opportunities! That their countries are literary deserts! Can you imagine? Before even we talk of funding, the biggest challenge are the mindsets that have been built by decades of free aid money being spent on programmes without tangible impact devaluing many mentoring and support initiatives.
Talking about funding, a project like this needs some. Where is the money coming from?
Yes we need funding. The kind people from British Council Global Changemakers programme (which later grew independent of the British Council) gave us 2500 Swiss Francs in 2012 when we started. On that amount we run the 2013 workshop, mentoring programme and managed to do some school tours. The generous friends at Open Society Initiative for Eastern Africa boosted us with a 25000 USD grant that has seen us go through 2014. We have also received support from the Prince Claus Fund (up to three travel grants in two years) and the Danish Center for Culture and Development who supported the travel of established and emerging writers to the 2014 Festival.
To what extent have local industries and businesses supported the festival?
Do not be deceived by the cash figures I have mentioned above. The programme and the festival cost much more than the amounts we have received in cash. We have survived largely on in-kind contributions than on cash. About 70% of the costs of running the programme comes in by way of in-kind contributions. Ethiopian Airlines for example donated two free air-tickets to us, the Uganda National Cultural Center gave us five full days at the National Theatre at no cost, we got advertising space in The Observer and Red Pepper newspapers as their contribution and many other generous institutions, individuals and friends. Can you imagine even the awards-trophies were donated to us by a good friend, Speaking Roses Uganda? Writivism has survived as a communal project in that old-fashioned it-is-everyone’s-responsibility way, you may say, the old African way of doing things.
What was the most important lesson you took away from this year’s festival?
This year’s Festival was beautiful. I enjoyed myself, compared to last year’s. There were many lessons to learn, I can’t single out one most important one. We need to grow our schools outreach programme. The electronic media is interested in promoting literature, we need to talk to them more than we did this year. We are growing. We need to keep dreaming big. And keep keeping on. Of course, we also need to look for funding more aggressively. At some point the programme needs to be self-sustaining. It is possible, we just need to keep focused and work towards that.
And what has been the greatest fulfillment you got from organizing Writivism?
Abu, you are asking hard questions. Think about this: in 2012, I am holed up in Budapest, Hungary studying a Masters Degree in Human Rights and I am connected to all these amazing writing talents: yourself, Richard Ali, NoViolet Bulawayo, Zukiswa Wanner, Ayikwei Nii Parkes, Ella Wakatama Allfrey, Clifton Gachagua, Okwiri Oduor, Novuyo Rosa Tshuma, Goretti Kyomuhendo, Paula Akugizibwe, Samuel Kolawole, Billy Kahora, Onyeka Nwelue, Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi, and others but I have not seen them physically. You know what they say about the eyes of an African being in their hands. Despite the magic in the connectivity the internet has brought to our lives, nothing beats physical interaction. So, in just two years of doing Writivism, all these people have come to Kampala and we have had discussions of Literature with them, been able to mentor emerging writers, publish their work and even give them some little money as recognition of their talent. It is fulfilling. There is something more fulfilling though. I am now able to sustain conversations about characters in African fiction with 10 times more people than I was able to do two years ago. That for me is the winner.
It was great meeting you too for the first time. How important do you think it is for young Africans to invest energy and resources to such literary endeavours on the continent?
I think this is one of those things I take for granted. A people, a nation, a country, a continent, any political entity without soft power has no real power. If our generation is really serious about taking charge of the presents and futures of our fate as a people, a continent, nations, countries etc, we need to invest our all in growing our various soft powers. It is good to borrow, it is good to use help from outside, but ultimately we have to get our own societies to own these endeavors. True independence is not in having the biggest economy in GDP terms when the growth comes in the shape and language of a foreign soft power. The moment we learn that soft power is everything. That cultural power is the real power, we shall have began the journey to our place on the global table.
That is quite philosophical. So what drives you? Why are you so keen on this project?
I could tell you that I am interested in the growth of African soft power and that is why Writivism is very important to me. But that is not the entire story. I wanted to offer a Bachelor of Arts in Literature at university when I was 17. I wanted to be a writer. I saw my life only in that light. But I was too weak to resist the temptation and the pressure from all circles to study Law and start pursuing the path to the courtroom and in boardrooms negotiating business and all that. It took me about six years to fully realize that what I knew at 17 was the truth. But you see, one can’t undo the past. So, Writivism is my way of ensuring that other people do not have to bow to the pressure and temptation of so-called ‘proper’ careers. To provide support to emerging writers who may not stand on their own while they live on the continent and pursue this writing thing. And of course I love reading well-written stories that are set in Africa.
Was there a point when you felt like throwing in the towel and saying I am not doing this anymore?
Hmm. That point has not yet come. It almost came in 2013, when we were putting together the festival schedule and most of our grant applications were unsuccessful and it was close to the day of the festival and I was poorer than a church-mouse and a central member of the team had just resigned to pursue her personal endeavours and this was the first festival and everything seemed like nothing would work but then as they say, throwing in the towel was no option. There was plenty of moral support from everyone involved. James Murua, Okwiri Oduor, Clifton Gachagua, Kiwumulo Nakandi, James Muhindo, Charity Ngabirano, Beatrice Lamwaka, Zukiswa Wanner, Hilda Twongyeirwe and more people who believed in the vision kept on and held things together.
Tell us more about Bwe, the brains behind this? Where did the passion for the arts come from?
Hmm. Talking about self is very hard especially when speaking of such a communal endeavour as Writivism and the arts. My mother is a teacher. Now a Head Teacher actually. She was the trainer and director of the school’s Music Dance and Drama troupe that I was a member of, in my toddler years. She studied English and Literature besides Music Dance and Drama for her university degree. I am my mother’s child. Even when Law at some point threatened this bond, I think it is now safe to declare that children can become their parents. I want to be my mother. She is the source of everything.
What should people be looking forward to next year?
Next year is going to be much better. We may not expand in terms of size, but we shall improve in terms of the quality of delivery of the programme. We shall have about 25 mentors, each mentor supporting one emerging writer. We expect to get in very serious mentees such that they can take full advantage of the quality of the mentoring we will offer. We can only expect the quality of the stories in the annual Writivism anthology to get better. And we shall have surprises at the Festival. As they say, it is better to serve the meal when it is the right time, but to cheat a little for your readers, we shall have some of the best African writers of the moment and of the future and we may also tap into the global Pan-African solidarity for exchanges and things of that nature. Have I said too much?