Kenyan writer Binyavanga Wainaina last week won the prestigious Caine Prize for literature at an award ceremony held in Oxford, UK, for his short story Discovering Home, published on G21, The World's Magazine Website, in 2001. One of the judges, Dr Ahdaf Soueif, described it as, "An accomplished and subtly imagined story. It shifts between different African locations with wit, wisdom and originality. It is a brilliant augur of future work by this author." However, Wainaina, who expects to have his first novel published next year, was critical of the fact that it took a British organisation to recognise the talent that exists in Kenya today.

In his acceptance speech, he said, "At home we cannot walk into bookshops and see ourselves, and we cannot see ourselves on television. I think it's peculiar that at a time when Kenya is going through a recession a new generation of artists has come up, and young people are finding money they don't have, to go and listen to music, to listen to stand-up comedians, and for the first time they see reflections of themselves... This is the first-born generation of independent Africans, and this voice must come out."

He spoke to The EastAfrican about the state of the publishing industry in Kenya.

Are publishers in Kenya more interested in political writing and traditional writers? Is this why they have been reluctant to take on new novelists? Or are they just stuck in the past?

I am not an insider, so I don't know what the problem is. I suspect that many publishers are seeking to find the next school set book, and that they believe, when they punch the numbers up, that there is no money in fiction. I think the political and the "traditional" writers are also having problems getting published.

When I felt that I needed to find out what was going on in publishing, and who was doing what, I received the impression that they are terribly busy, too busy to pause and look, too disinterested and cynical to believe that anybody new can possibly have anything new to say. It seems that the present cultural revolution in Kenya is passing them by.

Young people are redefining what it means to be a Kenyan, and the arts that have picked up on this momentum are being supported financially and otherwise. Young people in Kenya are listening to Kenyan musicians – they are paying to do so! They are buying up videotapes of Nation TV’s Redykyulass. There is only one reason for this: we are seeing ourselves in this work.

I have discovered that there are many, many writers out there, many good ones, and that many are beginning to explore these themes, but the publishers are so far away from them, that they are looking for ways, on the Internet, abroad, to be read, to be heard. This redefinition of who we are is to me the most important thing happening in the country, which, like many other Kenyan things, it is part of the "informal sector." 

Is it also something to do with the African tradition of storytelling being by word of mouth rather than the written word?

I am sure this is partly true. When I first got home, I was amazed by the words I heard everywhere, the stories that presented themselves in bars and gatherings and so on. We have a lot to say to each other that is powerful, original and true, but this is not translating itself onto paper, not enough, anyway. I often think, listening to someone, if he/she would only transcribe the words on paper, that that is our voice, his voice. A nation cannot feel that its experience is real unless people see themselves reflected in popular culture, in the arts. But our disconnect from literature is so immense, that we don't expect that any literary experience will be about us.

Do you think it is also because – until yourself last week – Kenyan writers have achieved little recognition on the world stage since Ngugi wa Thiong’o? 

What a question! Why should that be so? The musicians didn't need this affirmation that what they were doing was real – people on the ground simply subscribed to their music. It is only now, after their revolution has established itself within the country, that they are starting to get outside recognition. There were no Kenyan entries for the Kora last year. Not one. But there will be some surprises this year, I think.

How can it be that writers have to get this sort of attention before they are noticed? This is lopsided and says things about ourselves that are disturbing. It is important that we recognise there is a renaissance in the arts in Kenya that is going unacknowledged by the establishment. There is a huge interest in plays like those by Wahome Mutahi and the music industry is producing music which for the first time sees Kenyans comfortable as being Kenyans. There is no precedent for this. 

Are white wildlife and former colonial writers still an influence on publishers?

I think in many ways, they have become the commentators on Kenya abroad. Karen Blixen for example, is often quoted even in the Kenya media as representing Kenya, yet she was quite comfortable speculating that Kikuyu children's intelligence stopped growing at the age of nine. I feel terribly betrayed by things like this. You can take this sort of stupidity from pulp fiction, but not from somebody who was sold as a truth-sayer. It seems taboo to criticise this woman, who brought so many tourists to Kenya, though what she had to say about us was clearly escapist, and a sort of self-justification of being what she was, and was doing.

We seem to feel proud that this "world writer" deigned to write about us – I find this simply unreal. We need a revolution in the writing industry. It is time publishers started going out to look for talent.

Are publishers scared of hidden political criticism since the high-profile libel cases?

Very probably. I have no insider knowledge of this, but there is also a weariness in the industry, a persisting idea that nothing new is there to be said or done. This in a country that will be 40 years old next year–

Are young writers also to blame by not marketing themselves enough?

No. Getting attention outside the country is like a lottery. You can try for years, and not even get a hearing. My experience with the disinterest of the industry suggests that the hurdles seem enormous from inside Kenya. There are better writers than me writing right now. I have seen their work.

Or is it because it is so hard for Kenyan writers to make a living by writing?

This is true. But there are still writers out there writing. They are just not being published enough. Many are starting to present their Kenyanness in publications online, in e-mail lists, in literary journals. I have met many online.

You point out the confidence that Kenyan musicians and playwrights now have in themselves. Why is it that writers are not similarly comfortable with writing about themselves, their lives and stories?

When I returned from South Africa to Kenya in 2000, I had a chat with the owner of Legacy Books. She said that people were looking for things to read, and failing to find them. She said to me that it wasn't that people weren’t buying books, but that they weren't finding books that appeal, that validate us, where we see ourselves.

The thing is, I didn't believe her. At the time, I was cynical enough to think that literature is a sort of "university anthology" thing. This is the prevailing feeling in the country. I do believe, though, that some writers in Swahili are being read. This is excellent, but there is a long way to go.

Why do you think the Caine Prize is important in changing this agenda?

Hopefully, it will make people realise that there is good work in Kenya, that there is "true" work in Kenya. Hopefully it will be a wake-up call for the industry. The Caine Prize has made a clear line for those of us who have something to say.

What is your view of the prize itself? We're meeting in a traditional Oxford establishment to celebrate radical African writing.

I am sure there is much I could say about this, especially if I chose to be negative. What I feel though is that the organisers of the prize have cut through the red tape, and sought and found new young writers from all over the continent. They have given us the tools to start to support ourselves.

This is not a prize for publishers, nor is it based on book sales, it simply seeks to give new writers a boost. The formula is working, and they are taking on the job our own industries have failed to do. It should make us think.