Family, theatre, memory
Speech by Jane Okot P’ Bitek Langoya, daughter
At the premiere production of The Trial of Okot P’ Bitek by Misango Arts Ensemble at Mama Grace Onyango Social Center, Kisumu.
Son of the Nile's (We, Us, Ours) edition of Jane Okot P’ Bitek Langoya's tribute to her father, formatted in the printable visual family of Son of the Nile 2.0.
Protocol: H.E. the Governor of Kisumu County; the Hon. Minister of Culture, Kisumu County; the Ambassador of Venezuela, your lovely wife and son; and the directors of the production The Trial of Okot P’ Bitek, Obat Masira and Hawi Odingo. Dad must be very proud of you.
It is a great honour to be here at the premiere production of The Trial of Okot P’ Bitek, authored by Prof. Humphrey J. Ojwang. The cast did justice to the interpretation of the life of Okot P’ Bitek, with such grace and purpose. I am very proud of you.
It was quite touching to see realization dawning in the eyes of Dad's old friends: the smile stealing its way onto their lips, the widening of their eyes in wonder, and the gentle nodding of their heads as they said, "Yes, the resemblance is there. I can see him. I see my old friend, Okot P’ Bitek, in you. Yes."
They gave me warm and hearty handshakes while bursting out into laughter here and there.
Many are wowed by this great poet and writer, and some even scream when I mention that I am his daughter. How much more honoured are we who call, or called, him Daddy.
Okot P’ Bitek was born in 1931 to Jibidayo Opii, who added the name Bitek later in life. My grandfather was a very short man, and he was laughed at in our ancestral home and teased that, because of his height, he would never get a wife.
He told them, in modern-day speak, "watch this space." He left home, acquired land in our current-day village, and built his new home. He added a new name, Bitek, loosely translated as "I will be strong."
He met and married Selina, pronounced Cirina in Acholi. She was a singer, dancer, and composer. Dad must have gotten his talents, poetry, singing, and dancing, from Grandma.
My grandmother was about my height, and Dad inherited her height. But in our family, we have siblings and grandchildren who inherited Grandad's height.
Dad had eight children. One of them, Oti, died while I was really little, and I do not remember him well. The Luo names of Dad's children were really interesting. I understand we were all named by Grandma.
Our brother Kidega died in 1985, so Okot Bitek is survived by six living children and his wife, Mrs. Caroline Okot Bitek.
The names carried pain, wit, history, and family memory, as Grandma gave them to us.
Okot P’ Bitek was the first African Director of the Uganda National Theatre. He was an outspoken man who was not afraid to point out to authorities the wrongs being done. That outspokenness became one source of his exile.
I understand he was at a rally when a trusted friend whispered to him that he was a target to be killed. This friend helped smuggle him out of the country and into Kisumu, his first home in Kenya.
We, the family, joined him, but I was very little and can hardly remember life in Kisumu. All I can faintly remember is that we lived upstairs.
Yet all that time Dad was doing great work in Kisumu, including setting up the Kisumu Social Center, now the Mama Grace Onyango Center. I have been told how he made this a center for the arts: art exhibitions, musical performances, local plays and drama, international films, and public debate.
He would invite giants in the literary field, including Wole Soyinka, to participate in the public debates.
He then moved to lecture at the University of Nairobi. We, the children, were enrolled in Kilimani Primary School for our primary education.
He was invited to a number of countries to give talks to university students, so he was in and out of the country quite a bit, and always came back with lovely presents for us.
He was invited to the University of Ile-Ife, Nigeria, for three years as a visiting professor. This was in 1978, and he decided to take the whole family with him.
I remember that disrupted my education because of the different systems in the two countries, Kenya and Nigeria.
Amin was overthrown in 1979, and Dad decided that he was done with exile. He breached his contract with the university and took us all back to Kenya, where we lived for a short while, then relocated to Uganda in 1980.
Okot P’ Bitek joined Makerere University and was Director of the Center, where he replicated the work he had done in Kisumu Social Center. He made it a center for the arts: art exhibitions, musical performances, local plays and drama, international films, and public debate.
One of the directors of the production, Hawi Odingo, said to me earlier, "While Okot P’ Bitek was Director of the Center, we visited as a group of actors from Kenya. There was a little girl selling refreshments and snacks at the shop by the door to the theatre hall at the Center. Was that you?"
I was amazed. I must have been only thirteen or fourteen years old then. "Yes, it was me," I said, "but it was so long ago. How did you remember?" He said, "You resemble Okot P’ Bitek, you do, and I remember those eyes."
Dad loved music, dance, and drama, and would usually join dancers and singers on the stage.
At home, five of the younger children named themselves the Famous Five. We would stage make-shift plays, sing songs, and dance to entertain Dad and his many friends.
There was a constant flow of friends to our home, but the one I remember most is Uncle Rubadiri. They were inseparable. They must have met in the hereafter by now.
I would really like to thank Misango Arts Ensemble for literally bringing Dad back to life today. It was an emotional roller-coaster for me. Many times I felt teary, but I also burst out laughing many times.
The winner for me was when Okot P’ Bitek was telling his fellow souls that his one hope was that he should not be buried in a churchyard. Not only is he buried in the churchyard of St. Philip's Cathedral in Gulu, the location of the grave is just next to the church door. You cannot miss it.
This brings me to the things that are said in relation to Dad's religion, which have been very confusing to me. I remember to this day how, at the breakfast table, Dad's blue Jerusalem Bible would be closed next to him, or he would complete whatever passage he was reading and then close it as we started to eat.
I also remember how he made sure we all went to church on Sunday. At the time Dad died, I was still very young, fourteen years old. So the memories of young Jane and the statements that Dad was an atheist do not quite reconcile with the father I grew up knowing.
I decided not to read the book The Trial of Okot P’ Bitek before watching the production, and I am glad I made that choice. The production touched me to the bottom of my heart. I am now ready to read the book.
Ugandans on social media have been very appreciative of the love that Kenyans have for Okot P’ Bitek, and of the honour he has been accorded in his exile home, Kisumu. We even have some harsh comments that Ugandans should be ashamed that Kenyans love Okot Bitek more than we do.
Back home, Okot Bitek is a national hero. I received the Hero's Medal from the President of Uganda, H.E. Yoweri Kaguta Museveni, on behalf of the family.
Okot Bitek's books are still on the education syllabi both at home and internationally, and the books have been translated into a number of local and international languages.
Makerere University honours Okot P’ Bitek and many times invites me to represent the family. We hope to have more Okot P’ Bitek-related memorials so as to keep Dad's name alive in his own home country.
I thank you for listening to me.
How much more honoured are we who call, or called, him Daddy. Jane Okot P’ Bitek Langoya
Okot P’ Bitek, the Family Man
Speech by Jane Okot P’ Bitek Langoya, daughter, at the premiere production of The Trial of Okot P’ Bitek by Misango Arts Ensemble at Mama Grace Onyango Social Center, Kisumu.