By Hakika Mwabidia
In Diani, a small town located in the coastal region of Kenya, across the shoreline of the Indian Ocean, a lack of books had become the norm. There was neither literature on local happenings nor pan-African thinking. If you ever wanted to read works by Ngugi Wa Thiong’o, Chimamanda Adichie, or Shaaban Robert, then you had to be a patient person because a real hustle awaited you. You would be required to travel to the neighbouring cities of Mombasa and Malindi, not even to buy such books, but simply to place an order from the capital, Nairobi.
In this small town, most youth spent most of their out-of-school time enjoying themselves at the beach, and at times engaging in drugs and substance abuse. Cases of miraa abuse by school-going children were rampant. The only time away from school that they got to sit around a book was when they visited the dusty shelves of the local public library. However, there was nothing much to expect from the library other than a few tattered textbooks and books on colonial and independence history.
While most people in Diani had gotten accustomed to this situation, Chiro, a 26-year-old son of the town and a passionate advocate of community empowerment, saw this as a challenge to be solved. Chiro was a staunch pan-Africanist who had been actively engaged with other Pan-Africanists from America and Europe. From his engagements with comrades, he found out that the thirst for African knowledge abroad had no spring in his village. In those engagements, he came across several black power movements in the diaspora, and at one point, he was informed of a library named after George Padmore, a renowned black scholar.
A Vision Is Born
The George Padmore Institute, located in London, housed mostly African literature. Any black author you could think of could be found in the library. It carried books by thinkers, poets, freedom fighters, and master teachers in the field. You wouldn’t be wrong to call it a sanctuary of black knowledge. Even though the walls were modest, the contents of the pages reflected the decades of black resistance and intellectual legacy.
As soon as Chiro learnt that such an institution existed, he knew he had to build something similar in his hometown. Imagining how the beneficiaries at the institute felt proud and excited around stories that reflected them, he decided that the centre in his hometown would hold stories of African queens, warriors, or the wisdom of the ancestors. Shelves that could show African children that they could also become thinkers, dreamers, and heroes. Shelves that would inspire the next generation of African liberators in intellect and development.
His first step when he returned to Kenya was to approach the local school, Diani Baptist Academy, deputy principal, with the idea. Madam Grace was sitting in her modest office with a big shelf in the left corner full of examination papers. When she saw the belief in his eyes and voice as Chiro spoke, Madam Grace was very convinced. They agreed to convert the old store room in the school compound into a library.
Mobilization Towards the Vision
He couldn’t do everything alone. Since this was a community initiative, Chiro saw it better to involve a team from the community. He approached local leaders, met with community youths, parents, teachers, philanthropists, business people, politicians, and elders. To every group, he shared the idea and gave them the chance to add to it.
Not everyone agreed with him. Many of them were sceptical. But he found hope in a few dedicated individuals who were ready to walk with him on the journey. So, he formed a team, a youthful powerhouse mixed with the wisdom of the elders. They dubbed themselves Mashujaa Wa Kisasa (Digital Heroes) and steered their agenda through the Ushirikiano (Unity) initiative. It is from this spirit of solidarity, knowledge, and freedom that the team decided to name the center The Afrikan Shujaa Resource Center.
Book drives were held in churches, schools, market centres, and nearby towns. They also visited local NGOs for help. In a few weeks, books by the likes of Chinua Achebe, Ngugi Wa Thiong’o, Shaaban Robert, Wole Soyinka, Pauline Kea, and other contemporary authors started flowing in. Those who couldn’t donate pledged to buy later, and some offered cash donations to support logistics.
Soon, the center was fitted with a few shelves that housed the books they had collected. When the team met next in the center, they were amazed to see the old store room starting to look like a sanctuary now. The next resolution was passed: mobilize more resources to manage the center. The team knocked on the doors of a few local businesses. Most offered nothing promising, and some made pledges that they did not keep. Word spread through the network of Chiro and his team. One of his best friends, Banda, who was working for an international NGO with diaspora linkage, Voluntary Service Overseas (VSO Kenya), promised to send a package of African science fiction and enterprise innovation books. Indeed, the center was growing both in promise and actualization. In just three months, the center had grown to several hundred books. With other collected materials, the Afrikan Shujaa Resource Center came alive.
Doors To Knowledge
They imagined the centre to be launched one mid-morning in September, where the sun would rise high and hot, to match the warm spirits of the team. Every road in Diani would lead to the resource centre. The different school uniforms would colour the compound like a rainbow. The children would sing and dance in celebration of the new achievement. The event would culminate in the cutting of the ribbon at the center, with a student and a community member holding the pair of scissors.
But as soon as the team opened doors to the center months before the launch would take place, children streamed in after classes to read; there was a study area for students and researchers, and a “games corner” with Ludo and Scrabble for those who wanted to pass the time. They would meet a volunteer in the center who guided them and made sure they were safe. In the evening, elders came to read and hold discussions. Some of the members of the team and volunteers began holding literacy circles at the center, which soon became an active Pan-African book club.
Books For Change
As time went by, the center became more than a library. Most visitors commented that it was a community space where they found tools for growth. Some students also said that it helped them improve their academics. Many people noticed the impact of the initiative. Some teachers from schools in the community reported that the center had improved reading skills amongst their students. Parents at home also made a significant observation in the lives of their children. They could see their children becoming curious and more expressive.
The neighbouring towns, too, were not left behind in the news. People from far off came to visit the center. Chiro and the team held mentorship sessions that sought to guide youths on advocacy and community empowerment. The team had also collaborated with other Community-Based Organizations (CBOs) such as Ushirikiano Initiative and carried out mentoring sessions at schools away from the Town. One notable school was Mwachome Primary School, where the CBO and the center had another vision of setting up a library that they would call Akili Afrika Hub. The team also used the center as a training hub where youths were taught different skills, such as writing and content creation. Amazingly, talents were discovered. One boy, after a writing training, approached Chiro and told him, “I want to write about Africa like Ngugi Wa Thiong’o.”
These testimonials were permanently inscribed in the hearts of Chiro and his team. They acted as sources of hope when challenges struck them. There were days that the center had no visitors, and sometimes it went for weeks. Sometimes, books were stolen, while others got damaged. However, when challenges arose, the spirit of African togetherness rose higher in the team. They had even formed a WhatsApp community that came through and helped with repairing damaged books or furniture. Lost books were replaced while more continued to flow in. The community felt part of the program; they took it as their creation, thus always answering to the call of Chiro and his team whenever a need arose. Indeed, this was their center, not built by foreign aid, but built with African hands, hearts, and aspirations. Anytime Chiro was called to speak to education stakeholders in the County or enthusiasts of the center, he would say: “We built this the African way—guided by Ubuntu and the conviction that lasting change begins with us. United, we uplift our community before seeking support from beyond.”