The literary world is in mourning with the news that Professor Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o, a monumental figure in African literature and a perennial Nobel Prize hopeful, has died at the age of 87, per bbc.com.
Wanjiku wa Ngugi, his daughter, confirmed his passing in a Facebook post on Wednesday.
“It is with a heavy heart that we announce the passing of our dad, Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o this Wednesday morning, 28th May 2025. He lived a full life, fought a good fight. As was his last wish, let’s celebrate his life and his work. Ría ratha na ría thŭa. Tŭrî aira!” She wrote adding that the family’s spokesperson Nducu Wa Ngugi will announce details soon.
His passing marks the end of an era for a writer whose life and work were intrinsically woven into the fabric of Kenya’s tumultuous journey from colonial oppression to a complex, evolving democracy.
Ngũgĩ, whose career spanned over six decades, was more than just a storyteller; he was a cultural warrior, a fierce advocate for indigenous African languages, and a voice that refused to be silenced by imprisonment, exile or debilitating illness. His novels, plays and essays provided a searing chronicle of Kenyan society, its hopes, betrayals and enduring spirit.
Born James Thiong’o Ngũgĩ in Limuru in 1938, under British colonial rule, his early life was profoundly shaped by the Mau Mau uprising. He witnessed the razing of his village and the forced internment of his family in detention camps. The personal tragedy of his deaf brother, Gitogo, being fatally shot by a British soldier for not hearing a command, became a poignant symbol of colonial brutality that would echo through his work.
Despite the hardships, his parents’ sacrifices enabled him to attend the prestigious Alliance boarding school. He later enrolled at Makerere University in Uganda, a hub for African intellectuals. It was here, during a writers’ conference, that his manuscript for Weep Not, Child caught the eye of Nigerian literary icon Chinua Achebe. Published in 1964, it became the first major English-language novel by an East African, catapulting Ngũgĩ to international acclaim. Swiftly followed by A Grain of Wheat and The River Between, by 1972, at just 33, he was hailed as one of Africa’s pre-eminent contemporary writers.
The year 1977 was a watershed. He shed his colonial birth name, James, embracing Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o. More significantly, he made the radical decision to abandon English as his primary literary language, vowing henceforth to write in his mother tongue, Kikuyu. His last English novel, Petals of Blood (1977), was a blistering critique not of the colonial past, but of Kenya’s new ruling elite, accusing them of betraying the common people.
This unflinching criticism extended to his theatrical work. The Kikuyu play Ngaahika Ndeenda (I Will Marry When I Want), co-written that same year, directly confronted Kenya’s class struggle. President Jomo Kenyatta’s government responded by shutting down the play and detaining Ngũgĩ without trial in a maximum-security prison for a year. Yet, even in confinement, his spirit remained unbroken. It was there, reportedly using toilet paper due to a lack of notebooks, that he penned his first Kikuyu novel, Caitaani Mutharaba-inĩ (Devil on the Cross).
Released after Daniel arap Moi became president, Ngũgĩ faced continued threats. While in London for a book launch four years later, he learned of an alleged plot to assassinate him upon his return to Kenya. This forced him into a 22-year self-imposed exile, first in the UK and then the United States, where he held esteemed professorships at universities including Yale, New York University and the University of California, Irvine.
His celebrated essay collection, Decolonising the Mind, became a seminal text, passionately arguing for the importance of African writers using their native languages. “What is the difference between a politician who says Africa cannot do without imperialism and the writer who says Africa cannot do without European languages?” he powerfully questioned, even critiquing his mentor Achebe for writing in English, a move that reportedly soured their friendship.
A triumphant return to Kenya was tragically marred when assailants broke into his apartment, brutally attacking him and raping his wife, an incident Ngũgĩ insisted was “political.”
Despite later health struggles, including prostate cancer, a triple heart bypass, and kidney failure, Ngũgĩ’s intellectual fire never dimmed. He leaves behind a rich literary legacy and a family that includes several published authors.
Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o’s death silences a voice that resonated with courage, conviction and an unwavering love for his continent. As Nigerian author Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie once described him, one of African literature’s “guiding lights” has now been extinguished, leaving the world of words significantly darker.
