Limits of the Messiah in Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o’s The River Between

Published on 5 March 2024 at 00:38

1960’s Africa was a time for new possibilities. The shackles of colonialism had fallen. African societies were gearing themselves up towards self-determination. And now nationalism, something that was once considered rebel talk for the streets, had become the main topic of discussion in all sectors of civil society. Doors that were once closed had now opened. But amidst these budding prospects one important question remained – who will lead us into the new dispensation? The answer to this question came in different ways. The most notable path of all was through the rise of the political messiah – that leader who held the scepter of love for his people in one hand, but who also swung it in violence against those who opposed him, blurring the lines between friend and foe. We remembered them as the generals, men of war turned into statesmen, men who spoke of coup d'états being more frequent than croissants on the breakfast tables of Parisians, men who rose and fell in different forms. In 1965, at a moment when this idea stood at its highest in the political imaginings of the people, a relatively known Kenyan author by the name of Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o published one of the most important post-independence novels.

Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o’s The River Between follows the story of Waiyaki, a young and impressionable man who has a passion for spreading education and uplifting his people. The tale is set on a valley that sits between two ridges called Kameno and Makuyu. And at the bottom of this valley is the river Honia, a river described as endlessly flowing, life giving, and never running dry. There was once a time when both ridges were unified in custom, tradition, and religion. But with the introduction of Western missionaries the culture that kept Kameno and Makuyu unified began to break apart. In another work of his (Decolonizing the Mind, 1986), Ngũgĩ speaks of this as a cultural bomb. It dissipates a people’s belief in their names, in their languages, in their environment, in their heritage of struggle, in their unity, in their capacities and ultimately in themselves. It is this culture bomb that tore both tribes of the river apart, with one being pro Christian and the other traditionally based. And this is where we find our protagonist, Waiyaki, in the aftermath of this lesion.

Muthoni: A Fading Past?

Early on in the novel we meet a young lady called Muthoni. She is a Christian convert, devoted to her beliefs, but also clings to her tradition as a way of preserving her cultural identity. She is one of the few in this novel that truly attempts to bridge the gap between belief and tradition. She prays to Jesus faithfully, but she also wishes to partake in the rituals that are central to her tribal identity. 

Patrick Dougher

The only trouble is that her father is the staunch Joshua, an early convert to Christianity, who views traditional life as possessing many ungodly and even dangerous traits. Joshua believes that his people are trapped in darkness, and that until they surrender to Christ their lives will never change. Muthoni’s choice to partake in this ritual not only worsens Joshua’s outlook on her but the entire tribe too. This act makes him all the more hostile to anything non-Christian. Joshua embraces an extreme whilst his daughter tries to resolve this conflict by trying to get the best of both worlds. At this point the novel seeks to provoke some questions. We are led to ask if Christianity is compatible with traditional customs. Truly the rift that exists between Kameno and Makuyu is not only geographical, it is also spiritual. What are Kameno and Makuyu really, if not allegorical depictions of an Africa torn between two possible realities and a not so certain future? And in some sense Muthoni is attempting to do the impossible, she is trying to bring these worlds together. She’s trying to show her people that it is possible.  

Waiyaki: A Possible Future

Like in most societies, the hope for the future is rested in those of the coming generation. This was no different for Makuyu and Kameno. Waiyaki was destined to be this leader. This messianic idea was planted in the heart of the tribe by Chege, a well-respected elder and father of Waiyaki. Chege was a student of the prophecies and tales of his society. He possessed an intimate and esoteric link to these traditions. He waited for the signs to appear and carefully listened to the winds of change. And when the time felt right he imposed these ideas onto his son as a vehicle for prophetic fulfilment. Waiyaki, whether by design or disaster, was now Makuyu and Kameno’s prophesied savior. 

He was the glue that would bond these ridges together. He was the one that would syncretize the Christian world of the missionaries and the traditional heritage of his people. As the novel progresses Waiyaki learns to be comfortable with his calling. His messianic outlook is compensated for by a passion for learning and spreading education. Eventually, Waiyaki sees education as the best path for his people. He believes this is how he can win everyone over. It is evident from reading these parts of the novel that the author’s main concern of his time was education. ‘To Waiyaki the white man’s education was an instrument of enlightenment and advance if only it could be used well,’ writes the author. Ngũgĩ did not want to throw the baby out with the bathwater. He admired western education but did not think that it had to be at the cost of one’s own culture. And it would seem that Ngũgĩ preferred the idea of education rather than religion as a tool that would bring salvation to Africa.

 

Patrick Dougher

Nyambura: Victims of the Savior  

In the story we get introduced to Nyambura. She was Muthoni’s older sister. But her outlook on life wasn’t as polarising or as radical as her sister’s. She was more reserved. She never took any risks, and she listened to her father’s warnings about the ways of the tribe. She was obedient and followed the example of Joshua (her father) who persuaded her into a life of Christianity. But as Waiyaki’s fame and position rose among the people, Nyambura grew to like Waiyaki, especially for what he had come to symbolize. Indeed they fell in love. There was something they discovered in one another that just so happened to click. ‘Something passed between them as two human beings, untainted with religion, social conventions or any tradition,’ wrote the author. But how effectual was this love affair? One could only speculate. It seems like Waiyaki’s love for Nyambura came from a misplaced desire he once had for Muthoni. But for Nyambura, her love for Waiyaki played out in a much more interesting way.

tbc

Nyambura loved Waiyaki because he was everything to her, everything that Jesus (her father’s savior) could not be. Ngũgĩ writes, ‘Nyambura knew then that she could never be saved by Christ; that the Christ who died could only be meaningful if Waiyaki was there for her to touch, for her to feel and talk to. She could only be saved through Waiyaki. Waiyaki then was her Savior, her black Messiah, the promised one who would come and lead her into the light.’ This observation makes us wonder what the author was trying to reach at. Was Waiyaki a more concrete savior than Jesus? Was Waiyaki designed to usurp not only the white invading forces but its Christ as well – the one whose primary role was to save all? Nyambura was not satisfied with her father’s messiah. For her Christ had become too metaphysical, too out there, unreachable and unrelatable. And according to custom, it was the white man’s savior that brought calamity to her lands. Whereas, Waiyaki felt real – he was there, she could reach out to him – physically, and his message was one of unity. He sought a synthesis between culture and Christianity, between the tribe and modernity. But regardless of how we may read it, Nyambura finds herself to be the victim of this messianic trance. We see her replace one (Christ) for another (Waiyaki).

Ngũgĩ Today

It is easy to juxtapose Waiyaki with many of our African leaders. We can align Waiyaki to those rare gems such as Thomas Sankara. But The River Between is not an antidote to the leadership problem in Africa but rather an important commentary on it. He was not creating an archetype or a template to be followed. Rather Ngũgĩ was underlining the complicated nature of these things, of a man who assumes a prophetic responsibility to carry the burden of a whole society, a whole world in fact. He shows us how these prophetic figures are able to build a certain hype around their persona. This persona becomes uncontainable due to the expectations placed on them by others, including themselves – a sort of ego hyperinflation. And in the end when the fantasy myth of the-man-turned-savior loses touch with reality the society suffers a penalty for having participated in the mythmaking of this figure. And the so-called prophet in turn suffers an all too human demotion, reminding them that they too are only just one person.

Ngũgĩ progressively shows how insurmountable such a task is, that no one man could actually achieve this, even if they were chosen, educated, or better equipped than the rest. The messianic complex in The River Between does not lead Waiyaki into some path of success, like the fulfilment of his vision. And neither does it lead him down the path of total destruction, like some anti-hero as is common in most novels that deal with the same tropes. The novel does have a few mishaps. It does not feel complete. Some of the ideas, especially towards the end, feel halted and underdeveloped. And the narrative ends up going nowhere unfortunately. Could this have been an artistic choice? Maybe. But it ends too abruptly for one to make such an assumption. The story feels like it ended a few chapters too soon. And so at the end of this novel we are left a little frustrated, much like our protagonist, with a sense of resolution taken away from us, only to have the big picture disappear in the quibble of small matters.  

Daniel A. Anderson

Closing Quote

‘In the midst of this Nyambura would stand. The children would come to her and she would talk to the elders. The birds too seemed to listen and even the beasts stopped moving and stood still. And a song rose stirring the hearts of all, and

their longing for a new life in the future was reflected

in the dark eyes of Nyambura.’

Darius Moreno

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