Summary of Ngugi wa Thiang’o’s Weep
Not, Child
Njoroge lives with
his family in central Kenya. When he is a young boy, his mother, Nyokabi, tells him
he will be the first person in the family to attend school. Overwhelmed with
happiness, Njoroge runs to Kamau and
tells him the good news, revealing in the idea that he will receive an
education. Kamau is Njoroge’s half-brother, since their father, Ngotho, has another
wife named Njeri. Upon hearing
that Njoroge will be going to school, Kamau congratulates his younger brother,
and the two boys compare their futures, discussing the fact that both an
education and a carpentry apprenticeship, which Kamau is pursuing will benefit
their family.
Shortly
thereafter, Njoroge gathers with his family in the evening and listens to his
father tells stories about the past. Addressing several neighbors, Kamau,
Njoroge, his wives, and his eldest sons, Boro and Kori,
Ngotho tells the story of how he and his fellow Kenyans lost their land to
white settlers. Explaining that he was enlisted by the British during World War
I, he says he was whisked away from home in order to build roads throughout
Kenya that would help the war effort. All the while, he says, he looked forward
to returning home and collecting whatever “reward” the white settlers would
bestow upon him and his people for contributing to a war that had nothing to do
with the Kenyans themselves. However, when he finally returned, he discovered
that the white colonialists had kicked his family off their ancestral land and
taken over the farm that was their livelihood. Unable to do anything, he and
his father lived as Muhoi (serfs),
working on land that used to belong to them and waiting for the day that the
white people would vacate Kenya. However, that day never came, and Ngotho’s
father died a Muhoi.
The
one silver lining, Ngotho tells the people listening to his story, is that an
old Gikuyu prophet has foretold that the land will one day be returned to its
rightful owners. When he says this, Boro shows cynical disdain. Having fought
and lost his brother in World War II, Boro is a silent, brooding figure who
resents not only the white settlers, but his elders, whom he believes failed to
protect the land. Tired of waiting for this prophesy to come true, Boro
interrupts his father’s story, saying, “To hell with the prophecy. How can you
continue working for a man who has taken your land? How can you go on serving
him?”
Amidst
these tensions, Njoroge starts his schooling. On his first day, several other
boys pick on him, but they’re warded off by Mwihaki,
who is from the same village as Njoroge and whose sister, Lucia,
is a teacher. What’s more, Mwihaki’s father, Jacobo, is the
richest black man in the area because he is a landowner. After Mwihaki helps
him fend off bullies, Njoroge takes a liking to her, and the two children
become close companions who both value the opportunity to attend school. During
this time, though, a bitter enmity grows between their fathers, as Ngotho and
Jacobo clash over how to respond to a workers’ strike. Ngotho, for his part,
feels compelled to join the strike as a way of responding to Boro’s critique
that he isn’t doing enough to win back their family’s land. However, he isn’t
certain it’s a good idea to simply stop working for the white settlers, since
doing so will mean losing his job at the white Mr. Howlands’
farm, which used to be Ngotho’s land. Indeed, Ngotho works for Mr. Howlands
because he wants to stay close to the earth he used to own. When talk about a
strike circulates, Mr. Howlands threatens to fire his employees if they join
the movement. Nevertheless, Ngotho can’t contain his rage when he discovers at
a village meeting that Jacobo has sided with the white settlers. As Jacobo
walks to the front of the group with several white police officers and urges
his people to refrain from striking, Ngotho finds himself so furious that he
rises and advances upon Jacobo. Followed by his fellow villagers, he beats
Jacobo and flees, though not before a police officer strikes him in the face
with a baton.
In
the aftermath of this event, people start talking about Jomo Kenyatta, a political leader who they
believe will help drive away white settlers. Unfortunately, though, Jomo has
been captured, and although everyone believes he will be freed once he has a
hearing. As such, the collective sense of hope suffers in Njoroge’s village. As
for Njoroge’s family, they are forced to move off Jacobo’s land, so they
relocate to Nganga’s property.
Nganga is Kamau’s carpentry master. Meanwhile, Boro and Kori move to Nairobi,
where Boro becomes even more passionate about the oppressive practices of the
white settlers. As Njoroge continues to go to school, tensions between Kenyans
and white settlers mount, especially since the Mau Mau—a militant group
opposing the colonialists—tries to recruit new members.
As
the years pass, Ngotho struggles to support his family. To make things worse,
Jacobo is made chief of the village, and Mr. Howlands becomes a Directing
Officer of the “homeguard” (the colonial police force). As such, Jacobo now
goes from house to house with armed guards, searching for people who have
joined the Mau Mau. Around this time, Boro and Kori become more and more
politically active by joining the Mau Mau. Ever since Ngotho attacked Jacobo,
Boro has been harsh on his father, upholding that his rash decision only
escalated tensions. Because of this constant criticism, Ngotho has become
meeker around his son, allowing Boro to speak over him because he’s
embarrassed. However, when Boro tries to convince him to pledge an oath to the
Mau Mau, he refuses.
Before
long, Njoroge tests into a prestigious high school. Although he and Mwihaki no
longer attend the same school and rarely see one another—partly because Mwihaki
goes to a boarding school far away, and partly because their families are
enemies—she asks him to spend time with her one time when she’s home on break.
During this meeting, she invites him to her house, and though he’s hesitant, he
accepts. When he arrives, he has a stilted conversation with Jacobo, but the
man treats him kindly enough, saying that he hopes Njoroge does well in school
so that he can “rebuild the country.” Afterwards, Mwihaki leads him to a hill,
where she admits that she’s afraid of all the turmoil surrounding them.
Njoroge, for his part, tries to console her by insisting that “sunshine always
follows a dark night.” Impressed by his optimism, Mwihaki invites him to run
away with her, but he refuses, saying that he couldn’t bear to leave his family
when conditions are so bad.
As
the Mau Mau continues to recruit new members, it grows more and more violent,
ultimately posing a threat to the very people it aims to protect. This pleases
Mr. Howlands immensely, as he delights in the fact that black Kenyans are
“destroying” one another. During this period, Jacobo uses his power as chief to
take revenge on Ngotho’s family. To do this, he tries to imprison Boro and
Kori, though he only manages to catch Kori, picking him up when he walks
outside after curfew with Njeri, who is also detained; unlike Kori, she is
quickly released.
One
day, Njoroge is pulled out of his new European-style school by armed men who
work for Mr. Howlands. He is then brought to Mr. Howlands and tortured. After
asking Njoroge where Boro is and whether or not Njoroge himself has taken the
Mau Mau oath, Mr. Howlands asks him, “Who murdered Jacobo?” When Njoroge is
unable to answer, Mr. Howlands fetches a pair of pincers and puts them against
the boy’s scrotum, saying, “You’ll be castrated like your father.” As Njoroge
screams, Mr. Howlands tells him that Ngotho has already confessed to killing
Jacobo, but before Njoroge can react, he passes out from pain.
Several
days later, Njoroge recovers, and his two mothers—who were also detained—are released
along with him. Shortly thereafter, Njoroge sees his father in the family hut.
He has been beaten severely and can barely speak, but when he sees Njoroge, he
assumes that his son has come to laugh at him because he has failed as a father
to protect his family. Apparently, Boro snuck into the village from the woods
and murdered Jacobo and then disappeared once more. Knowing that Mr. Howlands
would assume that Kamau was the one who did the deed, Ngotho worked up the
courage and turned himself in, claiming he was the one who killed Jacobo. After
beating and castrating Ngotho, though, Mr. Howlands understood that the man was
only trying to protect his son, and despite the fact that he has wanted to
murder Ngotho ever since the workers’ strike, he released him. Now, just as
Ngotho is about to die, Boro appears in the entrance of the hut. “Forgive me,
Father—I didn’t know—oh, I thought—” Boro says, stumbling. “I had to fight,” he
says, asking his father for forgiveness. “All right,” Ngotho says, straining to
lift himself onto one arm. “Fight well.” Telling his son to “turn his eyes” to
God, he lies back and dies, and Boro runs off once more. Sneaking into Mr.
Howlands’s office, he tells the man that he was the one who killed Jacobo, and
then he shoots Howlands in the head. On his way out, Boro fires at as many
officers as possible before getting captured and taken away.
In
the aftermath of this violence, police officers detain Kamau, so that now Kori,
Boro, and Kamau are all in custody. As such, Njoroge is the only brother left,
meaning that he has no monetary way to continue his education. Because of this,
he spends his days working for an Indian man in a market, constantly feeling
ashamed because everyone who sees him knows what has happened to him and his family.
After getting fired one day, he decides he must see Mwihaki, who he believes is
his final source of “hope.” When they meet, he confesses his love to her and
insists that they should run away, but now it is Mwihaki’s turn to decline,
saying that Njoroge must maintain his hope for a better future. Although it’s
clear that she loves him back, she refuses to elope with him, ultimately
leaving him distraught and hopeless—so hopeless, in fact, that he leaves his
house the next evening and makes his way to a specific tree, where he fashions
a noose and prepares to hang himself. Just as he’s about to end his own life,
though, he hears Nyokabi’s voice calling his name on the road, and despite the
fact that he feels ashamed for failing to finish his education and is hopeless
about the future, he walks out to meet her. On the way home, they encounter
Njeri, and the three of them walk home as Njoroge asks himself why he didn’t go
through with his suicide plan. “Because you are a coward,”
a voice within him says. “Yes,” he whispers. “I am a coward.” Saying this, he
runs home and opens the door for his mothers.
Analysis of Ngugi wa Thiang’o’s Weep Not, Child
Set in Kenya in
the 1940’s and 1950’s and ending in the midst of the Mau Mau war, Weep
Not, Child is Ngugi’s most autobiographical novel; Njoroge, its child
protagonist, is about the same age as Ngugi would have been at that time. The
novel is an anticlimactic, truncated bildungsroman in that it follows the
development of a child into adolescence but does not adequately resolve the
question of what precisely the hero has learned by the end.
The novel rapidly and cogently focuses on
Njoroge’s preoccupation with education and messianism. Ngotho, Njoroge’s
father, is confused and emasculated by his inability to comprehend and resist
the appropriation of his land by an English settler named Howlands, so the
family begins to disintegrate, reflecting in microcosm the general social
fragmentation. The family’s burden passes to Njoroge, who is fortunate enough
to be receiving a formal education, which annually consumes the wages of two
brothers. When Njoroge graduates into secondary school, the entire village
contributes to his tuition, and thus the hero is transformed from the “son of
Ngotho to the son of the land.” He begins to feel that through his education that
he will become a great leader, and Kenyatta’s imprisonment further fuels his
grandiose fantasies: He even envisions himself as the new messiah.
Njoroge’s self-image, however, remains
insubstantial. His love of “education” is abstract: He does not care for
particular subjects, nor does his vision encompass specific goals or projects.
His messianic delusions are equally empty, and his egocentric world crumbles as
soon as he is confronted with the reality of the war. When his father dies as
the result of severe torture and castration, when his brothers are either
imprisoned or killed, and when he too is tortured in spite of his innocence,
his illusions are shattered. Finally, the girl he loves rejects him, and he
attempts suicide but is easily dissuaded by his mother. The novel ends with his
recognition that he is a coward.
Ngotho’s rapid descent from the height of
self-importance to the nadir of self-negation is enacted against the backdrop
of a society in violent turmoil, which Ngugi depicts in effective detail. The
complex social entanglements and contradictions—the different political views
and the conflict between generations within Ngotho’s family; the enmity between
Ngotho and Jacobo, whose loyalty to the British is rewarded with wealth and
political power; the mixture of fear, hatred, and respect that Howlands harbors
for Ngotho because he has occupied the latter’s land; the Englishman’s desire
to torture and kill Ngotho, which leads to the retaliatory murder of Howlands
by Ngotho’s son, Boro; Howlands’s contempt for Jacobo’s collaboration;
Njoroge’s love for Mwihaki, Jacobo’s daughter, and his brief friendship with
Howlands’s son—as well as the descriptions of torture executed by the British
and the Mau Mau—create a powerful microcosmic picture of a whole society being
ripped apart by economic and political conflicts. The novel brilliantly depicts
the trauma and the ambiguities of a revolution. Njoroge’s actual experience is
not derived from active involvement in this upheaval, however; rather, he
functions as a passive, reluctant witness. His experience is that of a highly
suggestible and solitary adolescent who easily internalizes the hopes,
frustrations, and anguish of his society and then soothes his own trauma with
self-aggrandizing fantasies.
The violence and trauma to which Njoroge
is subject to only partially account for the oscillation of his self-image. The
rest of the explanation lies in the abrupt change of values that engulfs the
hero and the narrator. Njoroge’s early subscription to English values includes
a naïve belief in biblical messianic prophecies that supplement the Kikuyu
myth. As a self-styled messiah, he attempts to soothe the fears of a “weeping
child”; thus his attitude toward others exactly parallels the narrator’s
depiction of Njoroge as the weeping child. This profound sympathy and
parallelism between the narrator’s and the hero’s views underscore the complete
absence of irony in Ngugi’s portrayal of Njoroge.
The denouement of the novel also confirms
this underlying problem. Without any justification, Njoroge assumes all the
guilt of the trauma suffered by several families and accuses the girl he loves
of betraying him before he tries to commit suicide. He is thus still following
the model of Christ, of a messiah who assumed all human guilt, was betrayed,
and was then turned into a scapegoat. By allowing his hero to transform his
self-image from that of a savior to that of a scapegoat, Ngugi allows him to
retain his original egocentricity. This essential continuity in Njoroge’s
characterization testifies to the powerful influence of Christianity on Ngugi
himself. If Njoroge’s fantasies are a product of the socio-political and
religious factors in this specific colonial situation, then the ambiguity in
the narrative attitude toward Njoroge can be ascribed to the same forces. In
the final analysis, it is Ngugi’s inability to define adequately his stand
toward these factors that is responsible for the narrative ambiguity. The
novel, then, can be seen simultaneously as a portrayal and a product of
changing values.
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