“My biggest weapon is my words. No one can take that away. As long as I live, I’ll write.” said Ishmael Beah, writer and novelist, and STIAS Artist-in-Residence.
“Effective storytelling is not just about muscle memory and facts. A good story makes you feel. When you feel something it’s not just in the mind but in the heart, the blood, everything. It’s important to taste, smell, hear. If you don’t feel it, you know it’s not good. The telling of a story is to give it to you. As a writer I’m not needed after that. My grandmother said that stories were medicine that you put into human beings so that the world won’t break them. You must be careful about what you put into the world.”
Beah is writing his latest novel at STIAS – Beware of Bad Dogs – which he describes as “a story set in contemporary Sierra Leone about a group of politicians who view themselves as leading a prosperous and progressive country versus those of the masses, the citizens, whose experiences differ. The parallel narratives are played out through key characters who seek predominance of their versions of reality for national and international perception.”
This is Beah’s third novel following on Radiance of Tomorrow and Little Family, as well as his memoir A long way gone – memoirs of a boy soldier – the sequel to which will be published shortly.
Giving context
He is a firm believer in context and started his seminar by explaining the context to his life as a writer.
“Your formative years give you an idea of what you will become,” he said, “and even if you resist, it comes back.”
He explained that he grew up in a small village “below the margins – most in the country don’t even know it exists.”
His grandmother was the village storyteller. “If you asked her a question, she would tell you to listen to the answer in the story. She stressed that the story must be within you and each answer is different. From a young age I knew that truth is not singular but plural. It’s different for each one of us.”
Beah’s grandfather was an Iman, and he first attended a Qur’anic and later a Christian school.
“Because I could read and write I was asked to read and write people’s letters. This provided early training in writing responsibly and in interpreting human emotion. I made more money to keep secrets. I knew the community deeply and learnt to write succinctly what they really wanted to say. I also began to understand the effectiveness of language and how to use it well.”
“But I didn’t go to school to write. My father wanted me to be an economist and eventually Minister of Finance,” he added. “Unfortunately, I wasn’t good at maths.”
Sadly, war intervened when Beah was only 12 – the Sierra Leone Civil War (1991 – 2002) – and Beah lost his family and home and was forced to become a child soldier – until he was assisted by UNICEF and taken to the US where he was adopted.
But without a report card he had no way of showing he had been to school before the war. “I realised then that people didn’t understand the context of war. I therefore wrote an essay on why I didn’t have a report card and received a scholarship for high school. This made me realise that if you write you can make things happen.”
Beah explained that writing his memoir, published in 2007, was also out of a desire to give context to his life experiences. “People believe that if you are introduced to violence at a young age, you are a lost generation. I wrote the book to give context and change how people saw this,” he said. “I wanted to show that this momentous experience is part of who I am but doesn’t define me.”
“I wanted to tell my story first – the one that couldn’t leave me. I was angry about how the war was depicted. We can all embrace violence given the circumstances, but we can also come out of it,” he continued. “But it’s my truth, not everyone’s. I relied on my memories − not aiming to deceive and not apologising. I wanted to add context, colour and feel, to make people feel what it means to not know if you will survive.”
But he also didn’t want to be pigeonholed as a memoir writer so went on to produce two novels − Radiance of Tomorrow which looks at how people return to places devastated by war and learn to live together again and Little Family which is about how young people define themselves and if society doesn’t work for them create something that does.
Alternative narratives
He described his current novel as being “geared towards social, political and historical awakening of the citizens of Sierra Leone — and elsewhere with similar realities — and about the necessary and important struggle to own our own narratives and protect them against misuse for the glory of those in power.”
“In the wake of Sierra Leone’s 11-year civil war, political participation surged, seeking to rectify the neglectful attitude that politics should be left solely to politicians, a belief that fostered the decay of national institutions. Lacking public oversight and accountability, corruption took root, epitomised by the phrase, ‘Wusai u tie cow na dae e dae eat’ (Where you tie a cow is where it must eat),” he continued. “This unchecked behaviour eroded the rule of law, disregarded citizens’ rights, and led to widespread embezzlement and theft of public funds. Post-war, citizens demanded their rights and closely monitored governance. However, the same politicians, or their children, continued to be recycled into power, leading to a resurgence of the ‘cow’ mentality, now executed with greater cunning.”
His characters include a university student and a journalist who are battling the government narrative and providing competing versions.
Quoting George Orwell’s ‘Political language is designed to make lies sound truthful and murder respectable, and to give an appearance of solidarity to pure wind’, Beah noted that “People in power sell the idea of something they are not doing. They pretend Sierra Leone is like Switzerland – that the post-war country is thriving. They understand what the West wants to hear, but it means nothing on the ground.”
Despite being a country rich in natural resources, Beah explained: “In Sierra Leone there are no prosperous areas. There are mansions in the midst of degradation and fancy cars driving on dirt roads.”
“But people are shamed into believing they are responsible for what has happened to them.”
“As one of those who have suffered most, I’m always looking for the stories of those on the margins who suffer history,” he added.
He hopes the book will be published before the next election. “I hope the diaspora will read it. But they also want their slice of the cake. They don’t challenge, they don’t say what needs to be said, because they also want access to power. They are out there wanting to come back but not to serve, to get.”
He explained that his books are not read in Sierra Leone. “They are not in the curriculum. They don’t want anything that allows people to think or ask questions. So, I’m unknown when I go there which means I have access and can observe. I’ve been in the struggle so it’s familiar to me and my background allows me to see society from every angle which is useful for what I want to write.”
“Books are expensive so I convince my publishers to give me copies that I leave around. There are no bookstores or libraries in Sierra Leone, so I find spaces to put them and gift them to people. I did buy land to build a public library, but it was taken away.”
He also explained that many young people in Sierra Leone don’t read or write in the local language Mende anymore. He therefore hopes to produce an audio version of the book and possibly a storytelling app.
“I had the privilege of being introduced to different ways of storytelling,” he said. “In oral storytelling you must command attention and be willing to listen. You must be an effective communicator. It made me realise how you can play with language and truth. The oral tradition is very reliable – the community are the guardians − everyone knows the story and has a responsibility to pass it on or the story dies.”
“This made me understand both the importance and danger of words. They can liberate and imprison.”
Asked if he has political aspirations, he said: “I couldn’t be a politician. As a writer and thinker, I can look at truth from various points of view and understand the errors. I also enjoy creating things that last, not quick fixes.”
“I have experienced war and know the nature of violence,” he concluded. “The world is changing now and there is no resistance. We may not be able to go back. Many take rights for granted and only realise the cost when they are taken. Violence is not the answer, but the shattering of ideas maybe is. Perhaps humanity needs to reset itself periodically like nature does.”
Michelle Galloway: Part-time media officer at STIAS
Photograph: SCPS Photograph