The Sunday News
Raisedon Baya
I DID not want to be a writer, especially a writer for theatre. I wanted to be a lawyer. Well, most of the people I grew up with wanted to be lawyers though we all had never seen a lawyer, or been to a courtroom or knew exactly what lawyers did.
But one thing we all knew was that being a lawyer sounded en vogue, and sophisticated. I remember a day during secondary school when one teacher asked us what we all wanted to do when we finished school. More than half of us said we wanted to be lawyers. The teacher was very happy.
He said we were all an ambitious lot. Sadly, no one in that class went on to become a lawyer.
I did not want to be a writer, especially for the theatre. English was not my best subject at school, neither was it my favourite.
Weaving words into magical sentences was not a hobby of mine. I always assumed one would get serious indigestion from “eating” too much words. I was a science student. Mathematics was my thing. I solved equations for fun and crammed formulas the way a pastor’s kid enjoys cramming Bible verses. I loved numbers and was more comfortable in science labs. My parents and teachers thought my future was in science or business.
I did not want to be a writer. What normal person, with a chance of doing anything better, could take up something so unrequited? Something so “thankless”. The truth is I grew up among a group of young people who all wanted to be part of a recognised and respectable profession. Doctor. Engineer. Lawyer. Accountant. Teacher. Then teachers commanded a lot of respect. (It is only now that lack of respect for the teaching profession has reduced it to a laughable occupation.) We all dreamt about respectable professions. And writing or theatre was not part of those dreams. Not until A-level.
I did not want to be a writer, especially for the theatre until I saw my own brother on stage, in a school play and what his performance did to the audience. Ironically, the same brother went on to pursue a career in medicine and I became a writer and thespian. My earlier exposure to theatre was nowhere near a professional stage. It was only after my O-levels that I experienced professional theatre and it’s life altering qualities. However, the loads of amateur performances I was exposed to in the townships were powerful enough to plant a serious interest for good storytelling and theatre in me. This interest later grew into a serious passion. Interestingly, the writing that formed most of these amateur performances was not sophisticated at all. Neither was it pompous or pretentious. It was not even from famous or successful writers. It was writing that sought to communicate local stories and not necessarily to show off the writer’s education or masterly of the English language. That, I think, was my first attraction to writing for theatre — I wanted to communicate, to tell everyday stories about the people I met and the places they lived, and how their environment helped or collided with their dreams.
Who was it that said art is a drug? The opium of the mind. For me art has not been a drug but rather a window to escape the numbing realities my generation has been subjected to. Art, and particularly theatre, has been that booming voice I use to articulate the fears and dreams, mostly failed dreams, of my generation. For me art, though not as rewarding as I would want it to be, has given me the much needed balance. I always wonder where I would be if it had not been for my writing. It was only when I had started writing and being published that I started serious interacting with works of serious writers like Ngugi, Wole Soyinka, Ama Ata Aidoo, Mbongeni Ngema, Zakes Mda, Chenjerai Hove and many others.
For young aspiring writers out there. You don’t have to be the best writer to succeed. All you need is passion and constant practice. We are story people and the world out there is waiting for more stories. More importantly there are now too many platform for storytellers. Go for it!
