What Wole Soyinka Means to Me

A native daughter reflects on the life and legacy of a literary giant.

‘Who, in a wide cultural perspective and with poetic overtones, fashions the drama of existence…’ 

                                                       — Official notation for Wole Soyinka’s Nobel Prize for Literature  

I first encountered Soyinka’s searing prison memoir, The Man Died—Prison Notes of Wole Soyinka, as a teenager in the late 1980s. It was revelatory, opening my eyes to the recent history of my own country, especially the Biafran War (1967 to 1970), of which I had little knowledge. It made me question why I hadn’t learnt more about it at school; why those around me rarely spoke of the war. Was it that adults were trying to shield us from these recent horrors? Soyinka’s harrowing account of imprisonment without trial, and the torment he endured, made me wonder how he managed to hold on to his sanity. It made me wonder about other such stories. It made me wonder how I might fare under such conditions. 

Beyond Soyinka’s bravery in the face of state oppression, what is also striking about The Man Died is the sheer artistry of the writing, an impression that only grew as I read more of his works. Whether in the grand tragedy of his classic Death and the King’s Horseman, the wry social commentary of poems like ‘Civilian and Soldier’ and ‘Telephone Conversation’, or the biting political satire of his latest epic novel, Chronicles from the Land of the Happiest People on Earth, Soyinka’s work displays a mastery of dramatic architecture, lyricism, and dark humour. I remember, as a university student, reading and re-reading ‘Telephone Conversation’, in which Soyinka’s virtuosic command of form and tone is on full display as he lays bare the racism of 1950s Britain. When the landlady presses the would-be renter on the colour of his complexion as in ‘HOW DARK?’, Soyinka’s retort is a masterclass in sharp satire and irony...

This essay features in our print issue, ‘The Enduring Voice of Wole Soyinka’, and is available to read for free, courtesy of our funding partner, The Open Society Foundations.

To continue reading, Register for a Free Pass.

Already a subscriber? Log in.