You Must Set Forth at Dawn

I knew of Nobel Laureate Wole Soyinka, the first African to win the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1986. The highly respected and prodigious poet, playwright, novelist and essayist was in self-exile when I first came to Nigeria in 1995. It wasn’t until the despotic dictator, Sani Abacha, who put a price on the professor’s head, died, and the nation was restored to the democracy it barely had an opportunity to foster since the colonial state became a sovereign country in 1960, that Soyinka dared set foot in his homeland again.

The controversial scholar became a symbol of freedom to Nigerians living too long under the oppressive rule of tyrant after dictatorial tyrant. Just as the man was a symbol, so became his trademark white afro and beard, to the man himself. Soyinka steadfastly refused to cut the thing that made him most visible to his detractors – his hair.

Yet, in order to travel during his exile, the professor resorted to wearing different disguises to fool Abacha’s henchmen who were constantly on a global search to secure Soyinka’s permanent silence. He had several different personas he replaced himself with. Using elaborate costumes and make up, he was, at different times a diamond merchant from Sierra Leone, a heavy rasta character and a turbaned Malian.

I met Wole Soyinka in a most serendipitous way. In late June, 2006, I was flying on Air France’s daily flight from Paris to Lagos. Sitting in front of me was a distinguished looking African gentleman. He had a big white Afro and, at least from behind, reminded me of the pictures I had seen of Soyinka. Then, as I turned the page of the June 26, 2006 international edition of Time that I was reading, I saw a photo of the man himself. He and the gentleman sitting in front of me were the same person.

Folding my magazine so his story was on the outside, I approached him and asked, “Would you please sign my magazine. My wife will never believe I met Wole Soyinka if you don’t.”

Mr. Soyinka smiled, waved away my offer of a pen, took the magazine and autographed the top of the page with the pen in his pocket. As he handed me the Time back, I told him it was an honor and he replied, “Nice meeting you,” or words to that effect. A brief meeting with one of the world’s greatest living writers, but it had a profound effect. To my shame, I don’t recall ever reading any of Soyinka’s works. But the man exuded an invisible essence that made me feel he’s lived experiences I never will nor would ever want to. He also looked like a sage, someone with wisdom far greater than any I will ever boast.

When I arrived home in July, I showed my prized Time to my wife, who is a journalist and writer. A few days later I tried to locate Soyinka’s newest book, You Must Set Forth at Dawn, a memoir that covers much of the author’s adult life. I finally had to have Barnes & Noble order it.

Wole Soyinka has penned one of the most extraordinary memoirs I ever read. In his writings, a giant of a man is revealed, one who, in his 70s, could yet change Nigeria for the better.

Twenty-one years ago, Wole Soyinka became Africa’s first Nobel Laureate. That honor was celebrated by the Association of Nigerian Authors (ANA) in a literary fiesta at the Obafemi Awolowo University, Ile Ife, on August 25 and 26, 2006. This international colloquium, designed to celebrate Soyinka’s Nobel Prize, also examined trends in Africa’s contemporary literary exploits.

The nobel Prize has brought much honor and respect not only to the recipient but to the country he was born in. Nigerians, at one time, seriously wanted him to run for the highest office in the land, the presidency. He has always refused to run for election for any office. Soyinka does wield a lot of weight both inside and outside politics and government and his opinions are highly sought.

It drags at times, and a bit at the beginning I admit, but I'm so glad I stuck with it. There are some really intense but also humorous points, the the spaces in between construct an enjoyable narrative and memoir.

To me, the only thing missing was a commentary on Nigeria's place as a neo-colonial territory in a post-Cold War scene (i.e. the role of global capital/finance in legitimizing dictatorships like those in Nigeria). I guess there's a backhanded shot at the US anytime he praises Canada :-) But then again, this is a memoir, not an essay.

So, this is a wonderful book written by my countryman, Wole Soyinka, the brilliant, lyrical, and the first African to receive the Nobel prize in Literature.

This book is essentially a history of Nigeria. It was amazing to know that Wole Soyinka has been part of the changes Nigeria has experienced, pretty much from the beginning. He includes maps of Nigeria, from when it was made up of regions, then states, then even more states. It also details how he escaped death from the hands of our ex dictator, Abacha, among other interesting info.

It is a wonderful read.

The only issue is language. I am a native English speaker, but I had to refer to the dictionary multiple times to understand what he was saying. It slowed my reading. This is something Wole Soyinka is known for. He does not write in simple English that's easily accessible to the common man. He writes on a very advanced level and I think that it could deter others from reading.

Overall, great book and actually Reference material for the history of Nigeria.

A beautiful book, at times humorous, at times intense, and still at times moving. Reading it was like being taken through an emotional journary. Wole Soyinka is an extraoridinary human being, with so much passion and courage. One can't help but be inspired by his love of life, which really shines through his lyrical writing.

Autobiografia "anomala" del Soyinka adulto, che copre circa 40 anni di vita, dagli anni dell'università in Inghilterra al ritorno in Nigeria, i viaggi all'estero, l'esilio e poi il definitivo ritorno in patria alla morte del dittatore Sani Abacha.

La definisco anomala perché il criterio della scansione temporale non è sempre completamente rispettato con sporadici salti avanti ed indietro e interpolazioni dalla sua vita privata che a volte complicano la lettura. Devo ammettere che le parti che ho preferito sono proprio quelle della sua storia privata: l'amicizia con Femi, la sua attività teatrale in Giamaica con i ragazzi di strada, ma anche le sue reazioni alla vittoria del Nobel.
La storia "pubblica" e il ruolo politico che ha ricoperto nella storia della Nigeria contemporanea sono parti di grande interesse, ma di una certa complessità (e a volte anche un po' pesanti) soprattutto per chi, come me, di storia africana non sa nulla.
Esco dalla lettura di questo libro con una grande curiosità per il Soyinka autore teatrale che mi riprometto di approfondire quanto prima.

"Some of us - poets - are not exactly poets. We live sometimes - beyond the word."

Wole Soyinka is a Nigerian Nobel Prize-winning playwright and poet, and that's just the beginning. The Guardian describes him as "the conscience of the nation." He spent almost two years in solitary confinement as a political prisoner in the 60s. He once seized a radio station by armed force to broadcast a rebel transmission. He's been asked twice to run for President. (He refuses, because it would require compromise.) Soyinka isn't an artist with activist tendencies; he's an activist with artistic tendencies. The quote above is a warning. He's speaking to a man who casually mistook him for a poet, and as such, a victim of political persecution. Wole Soyinka is nobody's victim.


The hair is awesome but it's caused problems for Soyinka, who's found it hard to disguise himself when he's needed to go underground

So you won't find much in this memoir, about his creative process. You'll find almost nothing about his family. What you have instead is a sprawling history of modern Nigeria, and his place within it, which is substantial.

Some of his stories are terrific. Wole Soyinka once flew to Brazil in order to steal a Nigerian relic back from a private collector. Pulled it off, too! He jokes that maybe the plot of "Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom" was ripped off from his own life. I don't remember the plot of Temple of Doom, that movie sucks, but this story is awesome.


Here's the piece, Ori Olokun

These great stories are scattered, and the connecting tissue isn't great. There are a lot of names and events; I couldn't keep them straight. He indulges in some score-settling and some humble bragging along the way. It took me a long time to read You Must Proceed at Dawn; it doesn't particularly have a plot, so I wasn't fully engaged. Ake: The Years of Childhood is his most famous book, and maybe an easier read; I couldn't get my hands on it. I've also heard good things about his prison journal, The Man Died.

Soyinka's muse is Ogun, the "creative-combative deity," the "Yoruba god of the restless road and creative solitude, the call of the lyric and the battle cry." It's been suggested that he is possessed by Ogun's spirit; why else has he continually put himself in harm's way?


I googled Ogun and found this, wtf

Well, because he lives beyond the word. This book isn't great, but he is; I'm glad I got to know him a little.

Nobel should say enough. His prose says more.

I bought this book several years ago, but every time I attempt to make progress in reading it, I struggle with following Wole Soyinkas story. Just as one reviewer has said, he makes us feel illetrate when we are trying to know his story. I prefer simple language in Memoirs.