Once upon a time in 1980 I was involved in a tour called Crossroad Africa in the United States of America. The tour invited African writers from the continent. I was the only writer from East Africa. The tour was a real feast for writers because it flew them to every corner of the United States for nearly two months. The tour included a visit to the White House. That was during President Jimmy Carter’s time.
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In one of the tours, we went to Gainesville University at a time they had a week of discussing African history and culture focusing on the subject, “African Aesthetics.” I was not prepared for what I heard that day from both black and white Americans. “Is there anything like African aesthetics?” That was the elephant in the room.
Aesthetics is a branch of philosophy that studies beauty, art, taste, and the emotional responses we have to them. None of the writers said anything about it because they were not on the list to say anything. On the list of participants was the famous author, James Bawdwin. He got the worst treatment delivered through technological witchcraft by white racists. Every time he stood to speak, his amplified voice echoed in the hall disjointedly to make sure nobody understood what the short dynamic black American writer said. He was an activist in fighting against racism. In the end it was impossible for him to say anything. It was the first time for me to see American naked intellectual racism. The message was to frustrate any claim that Africans have any aesthetics.
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The statements wondering whether there was anything like aesthetics in Africa hurt me deeply. It questioned the human integrity of Africans. I returned home with an ambition to register an NGO called “The Centre for African Aesthetics.” The idea was to create an institution for the development and promotion of African Aesthetics internationally.
I went straight to the registrar of NGOs. I learned there were two forms of NGOs. An international NGO and a local NGO. The fee for the international was 5,000 Shillings and half that price for the local one. I applied for the international. Least did I know I was a threat to President Moi’s government that played the delay game for over 10 years to register the matter.
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The animal in the house was that if I got the certificate, it would help me look for money outside Kenya to destabilize the government. Just when President Moi was nearing his exit, the registral wrote to me that my NGO had been registered. That was in 2001. But when I went for the certificate, I found a new mood, which said I would cough up 25,000 Shillings to get the certificate because the price had been updated. I expressed my bitterness but it wasn’t listened to. A new delay and frustration were created in which, to get the certificate, I would have to discuss it with the Director who was as elusive as a thief. I walked out of the office angrily and told them to give it to their mother.
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After another more than 10 years of the certificate lying in the registrar’s office, I was faced by another problem. That was in registration of African Religion, which top officials did not want to recognize because they were either Christians or Muslims or in no-man’s-land religiously. It was then when it dawned on me that the Center for African Aesthetics Certificate could accommodate African Religion. I returned to the NGO office to resurrect the certificate. Things had changed. I met new people who expressed themselves by taking me as a celebrity.
“When do you want the certificate?” an enthusiastic Kalenjin officer asked me.
“Yesterday,” I replied.
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After a few hours of addressing technical things regarding the officials in the application where one of them had already died, I was walking out of the office with the certificate when the Kalenjin officer stopped me and said almost in a whisper, “Do you know what we have given you?”
I replied, “Certificate.”
He shook his head and said, “We’ve given you an AK47. You know what? With his Certificate you can go everywhere in the world looking for funds.”
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That was the long gestation and delivery of the Centre for African Aesthetics (The CAA) that, I hoped, would help me change the cultural landscape. I met other obstacles. Disinterest or amnesia in the aesthetics. The Ministry of Culture doesn’t seem to know what aesthetics means, or if they do, it is handled by wrong hand. Governments and its executives live with phobia for writers.
In my attempt to promote the matter, I launched a website for the Centre for African Aesthetics (https://thecentreforafricanaesthetics.org/), with the hope that active people would help promote the ideals by writing articles. Besides, I lived with the dream that, you never know, a philanthropist from somewhere or lovers of promotion of African values would hear my voice in the wilderness and come with financial help. Surely, there must be noble Africans somewhere. This is something that would scare the world of white people, which has been the traditional financiers of some things here and there in Africa during postcolonial times.
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As a renowned author and founder of the Centre for African Aesthetics, I am out to launch the first COMMEMORATION OF AFRICAN SLAVE TRADE AND COLONIALISM. To say the least, it is shameful that Africans were sold as slaves to worlds for centuries but they have no pan-African commemoration to mark the grief. It is good and I congratulate the United Nations for their recent declaration that the African Slave Trade goes as the WORST atrocity in human history.
I am spearheading the launch of the first Commemoration has historical landmark. The Slave Trade and Colonialism are sisters that I feel should share the same platform. I hereby appeal to persons and institutions of good will to come to help CAA achieve that noble goal. It is my voice in the wilderness, a spirit that should not die. I started alone with the dream that I will be supported by the integrity of African spirit. This is a universal cry.
Professor David G Maillu
Author
Founder of The CAA
President of African Spirituality
