Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie: The danger of a single story | TED

Translator: Ingrid Lezar Reviewer: Christo Crafford

I'm a storyteller.

Ek is ’n storieverteller.

And I would like to tell you a few personal stories

Ek wil julle ’n paar persoonlike stories vertel

about what I like to call "the danger of the single story."

oor "die gevaar van die enkele storie".

I grew up on a university campus in eastern Nigeria.

Ek't op ’n universiteitskampus in oos-Nigerië grootgeword.

My mother says that I started reading at the age of two,

My ma sê ek't op twee begin lees,

although I think four is probably close to the truth.

alhoewel ek dink vier nader aan die waarheid is.

So I was an early reader,

So ek was ’n vroeë leser

and what I read were British and American children's books.

en ek't Britse en Amerikaanse kinderboeke gelees.

I was also an early writer,

Ek was ook ’n vroeë skrywer.

and when I began to write, at about the age of seven,

Toe ek begin skryf, op omtrent sewe,

stories in pencil with crayon illustrations

stories in potlood met krytillustrasies,

that my poor mother was obligated to read,

wat my arme ma móés lees,

I wrote exactly the kinds of stories I was reading:

skryf ek presies die tipe stories wat ek gelees het:

All my characters were white and blue-eyed,

Al my karakters was wit met blou oë,

they played in the snow,

hulle't in die sneeu gespeel,

they ate apples,

hulle't appels geëet

(Laughter)

(Gelag)

and they talked a lot about the weather,

en hulle't baie oor die weer gepraat,

how lovely it was that the sun had come out.

hoe lieflik dit was, dat die son uitgekom het.

(Laughter)

(Gelag)

Now, this despite the fact that I lived in Nigeria.

Ondanks die feit dat ek in Nigerië gewoon het.

I had never been outside Nigeria.

Ek was toe nog nooit buite Nigerië nie.

We didn't have snow, we ate mangoes,

Ons't niks sneeu gehad nie,

ons het mangoes geëet,

and we never talked about the weather,

en ons't nooit oor die weer gepraat nie,

because there was no need to.

want dit was onnodig.

My characters also drank a lot of ginger beer,

My karakters het ook baie gemmerbier gedrink,

because the characters in the British books I read

want die karakters in die Britse boeke het gemmerbier gedrink.

drank ginger beer.

Never mind that I had no idea what ginger beer was.

Ongeag dat ek g'n benul van gemmerbier gehad het nie.

(Laughter)

(Gelag)

And for many years afterwards,

En vir baie jare daarna

I would have a desperate desire to taste ginger beer.

sou ek ’n brandende begeerte hê om gemmerbier te proe.

But that is another story.

Maar dis ’n ander storie.

What this demonstrates, I think,

Wat hierdie wys, dink ek,

is how impressionable and vulnerable we are

is hoe ontvanklik en vatbaar ons is

in the face of a story,

met ’n storie voor oë,

particularly as children.

veral as kinders.

Because all I had read were books in which characters were foreign,

Omdat ek nét boeke gelees het waarin karakters anders was,

I had become convinced that books

was ek oortuig

by their very nature had to have foreigners in them

dat boeke vanselfsprekend vreemdelinge moes in hê

and had to be about things with which I could not personally identify.

en oor dinge moes gaan waarmee ek nie kon identifiseer nie.

Now, things changed when I discovered African books.

Dinge het verander toe ek Afrikaboeke ontdek het.

There weren't many of them available,

Daar was nie veel beskikbaar nie

en hulle was nie so verkrygbaar soos die buitelandse boeke nie.

and they weren't quite as easy to find as the foreign books.

Maar dank skrywers soos Chinua Achebe en Camara Laye,

But because of writers like Chinua Achebe and Camara Laye,

I went through a mental shift in my perception of literature.

het ek ’n sielsverskuiwing in my begrip van letterkunde beleef.

I realized that people like me,

Ek het besef dat mense soos ek,

girls with skin the color of chocolate,

meisies met vel die kleur van sjokolade,

whose kinky hair could not form ponytails,

wat se kroes hare nie kon poniesterte maak nie,

could also exist in literature.

ook in literatuur kon bestaan.

I started to write about things I recognized.

Ek't oor vertroude dinge begin skryf.

Now, I loved those American and British books I read.

Ek was wel versot op die Amerikaanse en Britse boeke.

They stirred my imagination. They opened up new worlds for me.

Hulle't my verbeelding aangegryp, vir my nuwe wêrelde oopgemaak.

But the unintended consequence

Maar die gevolg was per abuis

was that I did not know that people like me

dat ek nie geweet het mense soos ek

could exist in literature.

kon in literatuur bestaan nie.

So what the discovery of African writers did for me was this:

So die ontdekking van Afrikaskrywers

It saved me from having a single story of what books are.

het my gered van 'n enkele storie hê oor wat boeke in wese is.

I come from a conventional, middle-class Nigerian family.

Ek was uit ’n gewone, middelklas Nigeriese gesin.

My father was a professor.

My pa was ’n professor.

My mother was an administrator.

My ma was ’n administratiewe beampte.

And so we had, as was the norm,

En, soos die norm was,

live-in domestic help, who would often come from nearby rural villages.

het ons inwoon-huishulpe gehad, wat van nabye dorpies af gekom het.

So, the year I turned eight, we got a new house boy.

Die jaar wat ek agt geword het, het ons ’n nuwe huisknaap gekry.

His name was Fide.

Sy naam was Fide.

The only thing my mother told us about him was that his family was very poor.

My ma het ons net een ding oor hom vertel: sy familie was baie arm.

My mother sent yams and rice, and our old clothes, to his family.

My ma het jamswortels en rys en ons ou klere na sy familie toe gestuur.

And when I didn't finish my dinner, my mother would say,

As ek nie my aandete opgeëet het nie, sou sy sê:

"Finish your food! Don't you know? People like Fide's family have nothing."

"Eet jou kos! Weet jy dan nie? Mense soos Fide se familie het niks nie."

So I felt enormous pity for Fide's family.

So ek was baie jammer vir Fide se familie.

Then one Saturday, we went to his village to visit,

Toe een Saterdag gaan ons na sy dorpie op besoek,

and his mother showed us a beautifully patterned basket

en sy ma wys vir ons ’n pragtige gepatroonde mandjie

made of dyed raffia that his brother had made.

gemaak van gekleurde raffia, wat sy broer gemaak het.

I was startled.

Ek was verbaas.

It had not occurred to me that anybody in his family

Ek't nie besef dat iemand in sy familie

could actually make something.

sowaar iets kon máák nie.

All I had heard about them was how poor they were,

Al wat ek van hulle gehoor het, was hoe arm hulle was,

so that it had become impossible for me to see them as anything else but poor.

sodat dit vir my onmoontlik geword het om hulle as enigiets buiten arm te sien.

Their poverty was my single story of them.

Hulle armoede was my enkele storie oor hulle.

Years later, I thought about this when I left Nigeria

Ek't later hieroor gedink toe ek weg is uit Nigerië

to go to university in the United States.

om universiteit toe te gaan in die VSA.

I was 19.

Ek was 19.

My American roommate was shocked by me.

My Amerikaanse kamermaat is deur my geskok.

She asked where I had learned to speak English so well,

Sy't my gevra waar ek so goed Engels leer praat het

and was confused when I said that Nigeria

en was verward toe ek sê

happened to have English as its official language.

dat Engels toevallig genoeg die amptelike taal van Nigerië is.

She asked if she could listen to what she called my "tribal music,"

Sy't gevra om na my "tribal music" te luister

and was consequently very disappointed

en was gevolglik baie teleurgesteld

when I produced my tape of Mariah Carey.

toe ek my Mariah Carey-kasset uithaal.

(Laughter)

(Gelag)

She assumed that I did not know how to use a stove.

Sy't aangeneem dat ek nie weet hoe om ’n stoof te gebruik nie.

What struck me was this:

Dít het my getref:

She had felt sorry for me even before she saw me.

Sy't my al bejammer nog voor sy my gesien het.

Her default position toward me, as an African,

Haar verstekposisie teenoor my, as ’n Afrikaan,

was a kind of patronizing, well-meaning pity.

was ’n soort neerbuigende, goed-bedoelde jammerhartigheid.

My roommate had a single story of Africa:

My kamermaat het ’n enkele Afrikastorie gehad:

a single story of catastrophe.

’n enkele storie oor katastrofe.

In this single story,

In dié enkele storie

there was no possibility of Africans being similar to her in any way,

kon Afrikane geensins soos sy wees nie,

no possibility of feelings more complex than pity,

was daar geen gevoelens meer kompleks as bejammering nie

no possibility of a connection as human equals.

en geen moontlikheid van ’n verbinding as gelyke mense nie.

I must say that before I went to the U.S.,

Voor ek VSA toe is,

I didn't consciously identify as African.

het ek nie bewustelik geïdentifiseer as ’n Afrikaan nie.

But in the U.S., whenever Africa came up, people turned to me.

Maar as Afrika ter sprake was, het almal na my gekyk.

Never mind that I knew nothing about places like Namibia.

Ondanks dat ek niks geweet het oor plekke soos Namibië nie.

But I did come to embrace this new identity,

Ek't op die ou end dié nuwe identiteit aangeneem,

and in many ways I think of myself now as African.

en op baie maniere dink ek nou aan myself as Afrikaan.

Although I still get quite irritable when Africa is referred to as a country,

Dit ontstem my wel steeds wanneer Afrika as ’n land beskou word,

the most recent example being my otherwise wonderful flight

die mees onlangse voorbeeld was op my andersins wonderlike vlug,

from Lagos two days ago,

vanaf Lagos twee dae gelede,

in which there was an announcement on the Virgin flight

met die Virgin-aankondiging oor hulle liefdadigheidswerk

about the charity work in "India, Africa and other countries."

in "Indië, Afrika en ander lande".

(Laughter)

(Gelag)

So, after I had spent some years in the U.S. as an African,

So na ek ’n paar jaar in die VSA as ’n Afrikaan spandeer het,

I began to understand my roommate's response to me.

het ek my kamermaat se reaksie teenoor my begin verstaan.

If I had not grown up in Nigeria,

As ek nie in Nigerië grootgeword het nie,

and if all I knew about Africa were from popular images,

en as my Afrikakennis uit alledaagse beelde gekom het,

I too would think that Africa was a place of beautiful landscapes,

sou ek ook dink

dat Afrika ’n plek van pragtige landskappe, mooi diere,

beautiful animals,

and incomprehensible people,

en onverstaanbare mense is,

fighting senseless wars, dying of poverty and AIDS,

aan't oorlogvoer, sterwend van armoede of VIGS,

unable to speak for themselves

nie in staat daartoe om vir hulleself te praat nie

and waiting to be saved by a kind, white foreigner.

en wagtend om verlossing deur ’n gawe, wit vreemdeling.

I would see Africans in the same way that I,

Ek sou Afrikane sien net soos ek, as kind,

as a child, had seen Fide's family.

Fide se familie gesien het.

This single story of Africa ultimately comes, I think, from Western literature.

Dié enkele storie oor Afrika kom uit Westerse literatuur.

Now, here is a quote from the writing of a London merchant called John Lok,

Hier's ’n aanhaling uit die skrywe van ’n Londonse handelaar, John Lok,

who sailed to west Africa in 1561

wat in 1561 na Wes-Afrika geseil het

and kept a fascinating account of his voyage.

en ’n boeiende reisverslag gehou het.

After referring to the black Africans as "beasts who have no houses,"

Nadat hy na die swart Afrikane as "gediertes sonder huise," verwys,

he writes, "They are also people without heads,

skryf hy: "Hulle is mense sonder koppe,

having their mouth and eyes in their breasts."

met hul monde en oë in hulle borste."

Now, I've laughed every time I've read this.

Ek lag elke keer wat ek dit lees.

And one must admire the imagination of John Lok.

En ’n mens moet sy verbeelding bewonder.

But what is important about his writing

Maar belangrik

is dat sy skryfwerk

is that it represents the beginning

die begin van ’n verteltradisie van Afrikastories in die Weste verteenwoordig:

of a tradition of telling African stories in the West:

A tradition of Sub-Saharan Africa as a place of negatives,

’n Tradisie van sub-Sahara-Afrika as ’n plek van negatiewes,

of difference, of darkness,

van andersheid, van donkerte,

of people who, in the words of the wonderful poet Rudyard Kipling,

van mense wat, in die woorde van die wonderlike digter, Rudyard Kipling,

are "half devil, half child."

"halfduiwel, halfkind" is.

And so, I began to realize that my American roommate

En so't ek begin besef dat my Amerikaanse kamermaat

must have throughout her life

haar hele lewe lank

seen and heard different versions of this single story,

verskillende weergawes van hierdie enkele storie moes gesien en gehoor het.

as had a professor,

So ook ’n professor, wat op ’n keer vir my gesê het

who once told me that my novel was not "authentically African."

dat my roman nie "eg aan Afrika" is nie.

Now, I was quite willing to contend

Ek was bereid om aan te voer

that there were a number of things wrong with the novel,

dat daar heelwat dinge met die roman verkeerd was,

that it had failed in a number of places,

dat dit op vele punte misluk het,

but I had not quite imagined that it had failed

maar ek het nie kon droom

at achieving something called African authenticity.

dat dit die kastige "eg aan Afrika" paal nie gehaal het nie.

In fact, I did not know what African authenticity was.

Ek het inderwaarheid nie geweet wat Afrika-egtheid was nie.

The professor told me that my characters were too much like him,

Die professor het my meegedeel dat my karakters te veel soos hy was,

an educated and middle-class man.

’n opgevoede, middelklas man.

My characters drove cars.

My karakters het motors bestuur.

They were not starving.

Hulle't nie van honger vergaan nie.

Therefore they were not authentically African.

Gevolglik was hulle nie eg aan Afrika nie.

But I must quickly add that I too am just as guilty

Maar ek moet byvoeg

dat ek net so skuldig is aan die enkele storie kwessie.

in the question of the single story.

A few years ago, I visited Mexico from the U.S.

Ek't ’n paar jaar gelede Meksiko besoek uit die VSA.

The political climate in the U.S. at the time was tense,

Die politieke klimaat in die VSA was gespanne,

and there were debates going on about immigration.

en debatte oor immigrasie het geheers.

And, as often happens in America,

En, soos dit baie in Amerika gebeur,

immigration became synonymous with Mexicans.

het immigrasie sinoniem met Meksikane geword.

There were endless stories of Mexicans

Daar was eindelose stories oor Meksikane

as people who were fleecing the healthcare system,

wat die gesondheidstelsel kaal uittrek,

sneaking across the border,

oor die grens sluip,

being arrested at the border, that sort of thing.

by die grens gearresteer word, daai soort ding.

I remember walking around on my first day in Guadalajara,

Ek't op my eerste dag in Guadalajara rondgeloop,

watching the people going to work,

gekyk hoe die mense werk toe gaan,

rolling up tortillas in the marketplace,

by die markplein hulle tortillas oprol,

smoking, laughing.

aan't rook en lag.

I remember first feeling slight surprise.

Ek onthou dat ek eers effens verras was.

And then, I was overwhelmed with shame.

En toe was ek van skaamte oorkom.

I realized that I had been so immersed in the media coverage of Mexicans

Ek't besef dat ek so verdiep was in die mediadekking oor Meksikane

that they had become one thing in my mind,

dat hulle een ding in my kop geword het:

the abject immigrant.

die ellendige immigrant.

I had bought into the single story of Mexicans

Ek't geval vir die enkele storie oor Meksikane

and I could not have been more ashamed of myself.

en ek kon nie méér skaam kry nie.

So that is how to create a single story,

So dis hoe om ’n enkele storie te skep,

show a people as one thing,

’n volk te wys as een ding,

as only one thing,

slegs een ding,

over and over again,

oor en oor,

and that is what they become.

en dis wat hulle dan word.

It is impossible to talk about the single story

Dis onmoontlik om die enkele storie te bespreek,

without talking about power.

sonder om mag aan te raak.

There is a word, an Igbo word,

Daar's ’n Igbo woord,

that I think about whenever I think about the power structures of the world,

waaroor ek dink as ek oor die wêreld se magstrukture dink,

and it is "nkali."

en dis: "nkali."

It's a noun that loosely translates to "to be greater than another."

Dis ’n selfstandige naamword, losweg vertaal: "om groter as ’n ander te wees".

Like our economic and political worlds,

Soos ons ekonomiese en politieke wêrelde,

stories too are defined by the principle of nkali:

word stories ook bepaal deur die beginsel van nkali:

Hoe hulle vertel word, wie hulle vertel,

How they are told, who tells them,

when they're told, how many stories are told,

wanneer hulle vertel word, hoeveel vertel word,

are really dependent on power.

is alles regtig afhanklik van mag.

Power is the ability not just to tell the story of another person,

Mag is die vermoë om ’n ander se storie te vertel

but to make it the definitive story of that person.

én om dit die beslissende storie van dié persoon te maak.

The Palestinian poet Mourid Barghouti writes

Die Palestynse digter Mourid Barghouti skryf

that if you want to dispossess a people,

dat as jy ’n volk wil ontvreem,

the simplest way to do it is to tell their story

is die eenvoudigste manier

om hulle storie te begin vertel met "tweedens."

and to start with, "secondly."

Start the story with the arrows of the Native Americans,

Begin die storie met die Amerikaanse inboorlinge se pyle,

and not with the arrival of the British,

en nié met die Britte se aankoms nie,

and you have an entirely different story.

en dan het jy ’n heeltemal ander storie.

Start the story with the failure of the African state,

Begin met die mislukking van die Afrikastaat,

and not with the colonial creation of the African state,

en nié met die koloniale skepping van die Afrikastaat nie,

and you have an entirely different story.

en dan het jy ’n heeltemal ander storie.

I recently spoke at a university

Ek't onlangs by ’n universiteit gepraat

where a student told me that it was such a shame

waar ’n student vir my gesê het dat dit só jammer is

that Nigerian men were physical abusers

dat Nigeriese mans mishandelaars is,

like the father character in my novel.

soos die vaderfiguur in my roman.

I told him that I had just read a novel called "American Psycho" --

Ek't vir hom gesê dat ek pas die roman "American Psycho" gelees het --

(Laughter)

(Gelag)

-- and that it was such a shame

-- en dat dit só jammer is

that young Americans were serial murderers.

dat jong Amerikaners reeksmoordenaars is.

(Laughter)

(Gelag)

(Applause)

(Applous)

Now, obviously I said this in a fit of mild irritation.

Natuurlik het ek dit effens geïrriteerd gesê.

(Laughter)

(Gelag)

But it would never have occurred to me to think

Maar ek sou nooit kon dink

that just because I had read a novel in which a character was a serial killer

dat 'n reeksmoordenaar-karakter in 'n roman

that he was somehow representative of all Americans.

álle Amerikaners verteenwoordig nie.

This is not because I am a better person than that student,

Dis nie omdat ek ’n beter mens as daai student is nie,

but because of America's cultural and economic power,

maar eerder as gevolg van Amerika se kulturele en ekonomiese mag,

I had many stories of America.

dat ek baie stories oor Amerika het.

I had read Tyler and Updike and Steinbeck and Gaitskill.

Ek het al Tyler en Updike en Steinbeck en Gaitskill gelees.

I did not have a single story of America.

Ek't nie ’n enkele storie oor Amerika gehad nie.

When I learned, some years ago,

Toe ek gehoor het

that writers were expected to have had really unhappy childhoods

dat daar van skrywers verwag word om ongelukkige kinderjare te gehad het

to be successful,

om suksesvol te wees,

I began to think about how I could invent horrible things my parents had done to me.

het ek begin dink hoe ek aaklige goed wat my ouers my aangedoen het, kon opmaak.

(Laughter)

(Gelag)

But the truth is that I had a very happy childhood,

Maar om die waarheid te sê, het ek gelukkige kinderjare gehad,

vol lag en liefde, in ’n baie hegte gesin.

full of laughter and love, in a very close-knit family.

But I also had grandfathers who died in refugee camps.

Maar ek't ook oupas gehad wat in vlugtelingkampe dood is.

My cousin Polle died because he could not get adequate healthcare.

My nefie Polle is dood omdat hy nie voldoende gesondheidsorg kon kry nie.

One of my closest friends, Okoloma, died in a plane crash

Een van my beste maats, Okoloma, is dood in ’n vliegtuigongeluk

because our fire trucks did not have water.

omdat ons brandweerwaens nie water gehad het nie.

I grew up under repressive military governments

Ek't onder verdrukkende militêre regerings grootgeword

that devalued education,

wat opvoeding van waarde beroof het,

so that sometimes, my parents were not paid their salaries.

sodat my ouers soms nie hulle salarisse betaal is nie.

And so, as a child, I saw jam disappear from the breakfast table,

En so, as ’n kind, het ek gesien hoe konfyt van die ontbyttafel af verdwyn,

then margarine disappeared,

toe margarien,

then bread became too expensive,

toe het brood te duur geword,

then milk became rationed.

toe is melk op rantsoen gesit.

And most of all, a kind of normalized political fear

En meeste van alles, het ’n soort genormaliseerde politieke vrees

invaded our lives.

ons lewens binnegedring.

All of these stories make me who I am.

Al hierdie stories maak my wie ek is.

But to insist on only these negative stories

Maar om slegs op die negatiewe stories aan te dring,

is to flatten my experience

is om my ervaring af te plat

and to overlook the many other stories that formed me.

en baie van die stories wat my gevorm het, oor die hoof te sien.

The single story creates stereotypes,

Die enkele storie skep stereotipes,

and the problem with stereotypes is not that they are untrue,

en die probleem met stereotipes, is nie dat hulle onwaar is nie,

but that they are incomplete.

maar dat hulle onvolledig is.

They make one story become the only story.

Hulle maak een storie die enigste storie.

Of course, Africa is a continent full of catastrophes:

Ja, Afrika ís ’n vasteland vol katastrofes:

There are immense ones, such as the horrific rapes in Congo

Grotes, soos die skokkende verkragtings in Kongo

and depressing ones,

en ontmoedigendes,

such as the fact that 5,000 people apply for one job vacancy in Nigeria.

soos dat 5000 mense vir een vakante pos in Nigerië aansoek doen.

But there are other stories that are not about catastrophe,

Maar daar is onrampspoedige stories

and it is very important, it is just as important, to talk about them.

en dis nét so belangrik om hulle te noem.

I've always felt that it is impossible

Ek't nog altyd gedink dis onmoontlik

to engage properly with a place or a person

om ordentlik aan ’n plek of persoon mee te doen

without engaging with all of the stories of that place and that person.

sonder om in ál die stories van daardie plek of persoon te deel.

The consequence of the single story is this:

Die gevolg van die enkele storie

It robs people of dignity.

is dat dit mense van waardigheid beroof.

It makes our recognition of our equal humanity difficult.

Dit maak erkenning van ons gelyke menslikheid moeilik.

It emphasizes how we are different rather than how we are similar.

Dit beklemtoon ons verskille eerder as ons ooreenkomste.

So what if before my Mexican trip,

So wat as ek voor my Meksikaanse toer

I had followed the immigration debate from both sides,

albei kante van die immigrasiedebat gevolg het,

the U.S. and the Mexican?

die Amerikaanse en die Meksikaanse?

What if my mother had told us that Fide's family was poor

Wat as my ma vir ons gesê het

dat Fide se familie arm én hardwerkend is?

and hardworking?

What if we had an African television network

Wat as ons ’n Afrika-televisienetwerk gehad het

that broadcast diverse African stories all over the world?

wat uiteenlopende Afrikastories regoor die wêreld uitsaai?

What the Nigerian writer Chinua Achebe calls "a balance of stories."

Wat die Nigeriese skrywer Chinua Achebe "’n balans van stories" noem.

What if my roommate knew about my Nigerian publisher,

Wat as my kamermaat kon weet van my Nigeriese uitgewer,

Muhtar Bakare,

Muhtar Bakare,

’n merkwaardige man wat sy werk by ’n bank gelos het

a remarkable man who left his job in a bank

to follow his dream and start a publishing house?

om sy droom te volg en ’n uitgewery te begin?

Now, the conventional wisdom was that Nigerians don't read literature.

Die staande opvatting was dat Nigeriërs nie literatuur lees nie.

He disagreed.

Hy't verskil.

He felt that people who could read, would read,

Hy't gedink mense wat kon lees, sou lees,

if you made literature affordable and available to them.

mits literatuur bekostigbaar en beskikbaar was.

Shortly after he published my first novel,

Kort na hy my eerste roman uitgegee het,

I went to a TV station in Lagos to do an interview,

was ek by ’n TV-ateljee in Lagos vir ’n onderhoud,

and a woman who worked there as a messenger came up to me and said,

en ’n vrou wat as ’n bode daar gewerk het, het vir my kom sê:

"I really liked your novel. I didn't like the ending.

"Ek't baie van jou roman gehou, behalwe die einde.

Now, you must write a sequel, and this is what will happen ..."

"Jy moet nou ’n vervolgstuk skryf, en wat moet gebeur is ..."

(Laughter)

(Gelag)

And she went on to tell me what to write in the sequel.

En sy't toe vir my vertel wat om in die vervolgstuk te skryf.

I was not only charmed, I was very moved.

Ek was nie net bekoor nie, ek was ook diep geroer.

Here was a woman, part of the ordinary masses of Nigerians,

Hier was ’n vrou, soos baie gewone Nigeriërs,

who were not supposed to be readers.

wat nie veronderstel was om 'n leser te wees nie.

She had not only read the book,

Sy't nie net die boek gelees nie,

but she had taken ownership of it

sy't dit ook aangeneem

and felt justified in telling me what to write in the sequel.

en geregverdig gevoel in haar instruksies vir die vervolgstuk.

Now, what if my roommate knew about my friend Funmi Iyanda,

So wat as my kamermaat kon weet van my vriendin Funmi Iyanda,

a fearless woman who hosts a TV show in Lagos,

’n vreeslose Lagos TV-aanbieder,

and is determined to tell the stories that we prefer to forget?

vasberade om die stories wat ons verkies om te vergeet, te vertel?

What if my roommate knew about the heart procedure

Wat as my kamermaat kon weet

van die hartoperasie wat verlede week in ’n Lagos-hospitaal uitgevoer is?

that was performed in the Lagos hospital last week?

What if my roommate knew about contemporary Nigerian music,

Wat as sy kon weet

van hedendaagse Nigeriese musiek,

talented people singing in English and Pidgin,

talentvolle mense wat sing

in Engels en Pidgin en Igbo en Joroeba en Ijo,

and Igbo and Yoruba and Ijo,

mixing influences from Jay-Z to Fela

terwyl hulle invloede van Jay-Z en Fela

to Bob Marley to their grandfathers.

tot Bob Marley en hulle oupas meng.

What if my roommate knew about the female lawyer

Wat as sy kon weet

van die vroulike prokureur

who recently went to court in Nigeria to challenge a ridiculous law

wat onlangs in Nigerië hof toe is om ’n belaglike wet te betwis

that required women to get their husband's consent

wat vereis dat vroue hulle mans se toestemming kry

before renewing their passports?

voor hulle hul paspoorte hernu?

What if my roommate knew about Nollywood,

Was as sy kon weet van Nollywood,

full of innovative people making films despite great technical odds,

vol innoverende mense wat films maak ten spyte van groot tegniese uitdagings,

films so popular

sulke gewilde films,

that they really are the best example of Nigerians consuming what they produce?

perfekte voorbeelde van Nigeriërs wat verbruik wat hulle self skep?

What if my roommate knew about my wonderfully ambitious hair braider,

Wat as sy kon weet van my vooruitstrewende haarvlegter,

who has just started her own business selling hair extensions?

met haar eie nuwe besigheid vir die verkoop van haarverlengings?

Or about the millions of other Nigerians who start businesses and sometimes fail,

Of van die miljoene Nigeriërs wat besighede begin wat soms misluk,

but continue to nurse ambition?

maar wat aanhou om hulle ambisie te kweek?

Every time I am home I am confronted

Elke keer wat ek tuis is,

sien ek ook meeste Nigeriërs se bronne van irritasie:

with the usual sources of irritation for most Nigerians:

our failed infrastructure, our failed government,

ons mislukte infrastruktuur, ons mislukte regering,

but also by the incredible resilience

maar ek sien ook die ongelooflike taaiheid

of people who thrive despite the government,

van mense wat floreer ten spyte van die regering,

eerder as gevolg daarvan.

rather than because of it.

I teach writing workshops in Lagos every summer,

Ek bied elke somer skryfwerkswinkels in Lagos aan,

and it is amazing to me how many people apply,

en dis indrukwekkend hoeveel mense aansoek doen,

how many people are eager to write,

hoeveel gretig is om te skryf,

to tell stories.

om stories te vertel.

My Nigerian publisher and I have just started a non-profit

Ek en my Nigeriese uitgewer het onlangs die Farafina Trust --

called Farafina Trust,

sonder winsbejag -- begin,

and we have big dreams of building libraries

en ons het groot drome van biblioteke bou

and refurbishing libraries that already exist

en bestaande biblioteke opknap

and providing books for state schools

en boeke verskaf aan staatskole

that don't have anything in their libraries,

wat niks in hulle biblioteke het nie,

and also of organizing lots and lots of workshops,

en ook van tonne werkswinkels organiseer,

in reading and writing,

in lees en skryf,

for all the people who are eager to tell our many stories.

vir al die mense wat gretig is om ons baie stories te vertel.

Stories matter.

Stories maak saak.

Many stories matter.

Baie stories maak saak.

Stories have been used to dispossess and to malign,

Stories is al gebruik om te ontvreem en te belaster,

but stories can also be used to empower and to humanize.

maar stories kan ook gebruik word om te bemagtig en te vermenslik.

Stories can break the dignity of a people,

Stories kan ’n volk se waardigheid breek,

but stories can also repair that broken dignity.

maar stories kan ook hulle gebreekte waardigheid heelmaak.

The American writer Alice Walker wrote this

Die Amerikaanse skrywer Alice Walker het geskryf

about her Southern relatives who had moved to the North.

oor haar suiderlingfamilielede wat na die Noorde getrek het.

Oor hoe sy hulle aan ’n boek

She introduced them to a book about

the Southern life that they had left behind.

oor die suiderlinglewe wat hulle agtergelaat het, voorgestel het:

"They sat around, reading the book themselves,

"Hulle't rondgesit, die boek self gelees,

"geluister na hoe ek die boek lees,

listening to me read the book, and a kind of paradise was regained."

"en ’n paradys van soorte is herwin."

I would like to end with this thought:

Ek wil graag met hierdie gedagte afsluit:

That when we reject the single story,

Dat wanneer ons die enkele storie verwerp,

when we realize that there is never a single story

wanneer ons besef dat daar nooit ’n enkele storie

about any place,

oor enige plek is nie,

we regain a kind of paradise.

herwin ons ’n soort paradys.

Thank you.

Dankie.

(Applause)

(Applous)