What is African literature without the integral aspect of orature?

It has been a point of contentious debates, with arguments holding ground on whether or not there was literature in Africa before the era when the pen and the books came to our aid. This question might be best viewed through an analysis of the West African Epic Mali, the story of the enduring struggles of a man trying to make a name for himself and it has been reiterated through all oral forms.

So, West Africa, like other parts of Africa, has had its share of oral traditions, which have been meticulously kept by the griots; they were the keepers of history, wisdom, and cultural memory. The griots, therefore, were to compose and sing in ways that were to keep and preserve all beliefs and traditions over generations.

One such figure in this role was Djeli Mamoudou, the son of Bintou Kouyatd and Djeli Kouyatd, who was in the art of eloquence and had been in service of Katie's princes of Mali for generations. “I derive my knowledge from my father, Djeli Ikedian Kouyatd, who also got it from his father. History holds no mystery for us. We teach the vulgar just as much as we teach them. For it’s we who keep the keys to the twelve doors of Mali.” This very much signifies how authentic the oral forms and their transmission were in the creativity of the griots, who were bound by greater powers and so truth was all they could proclaim.

THE NATURE OF TRUTH IN ORAL TRADITIONS

But was there any element of truth to this declaration? Could their words bind people together to look at a point or even command respect? It's us to believe that truth is relative and few serve the truth; for few have the pure will to be just; and even among these there we find again a few who have the strength to be just; for it is certainly not enough to have the will alone for that to be a conclusion that every utterance has truth.

The griots were not to make narrations based on their own will; they were bound by supernatural allegiance to deities greater than natural forces. Djeli Mamoudou, like all other ancestors’ griots who came before him, recounted the spiritual dimension of Mali's history. This traditional aspect was not done in isolation because, by that time, Islam had become part of the people of Mali.

The Islamic synthesis was brought to the people by Lawalo, the son of Bilali Bounama, ancestor of the Keitas, who was a faithful servant of Prophet Muhammad (Peace Be Upon Him), so acceptance of this strong spiritual connection gave a wide perspective because they made sacrifices to the jinn as well, which refers to spiritual beings who were more like gods to them by the time.

These aspects all guided the griots in their every narrative, and it would be believed that the authenticity of the oral piece here was based on truth through the plotline, and a few aspects could have been exaggerated.

From the element of truth, we have realized that the people worshipped and sought guidance and protection from the Jinn, who more or less could protect and harm at the same time. When King Do Mansa had promised the best reward to the hunter who would kill the buffalo, it was almost unknown to him that this wasn't like all the other types.

This was special in that it didn't die at the shots of arrows at it. An old woman always transformed into the buffalo and killed people in the kingdom as a way to get revenge, and when the two hunters approached the old woman in the forest, she gave them specific rules to follow if they were to successfully kill the buffalo, but all this was to be bound by an oath that they were to make. “Before using your bows, you must aim at me three times with this distaff, then draw your bow, and I shall be vulnerable to your arrow. I shall fall but shall get up and pursue you into the dry land. Then throw the egg behind you and a great mire will come into being where I shall be unable to advance and you will kill me."

This clear description brings no questions to the narrative because every single detail makes a clear portrayal, like reading a car manual. So, the spiritual aspect of the people of Mali is a clear point of the oral forms.

So, what does it mean to question whether Africa has literature? It compels us to reconsider our definitions and parameters of literary tradition. The griots, with their powerful orature, represent a vibrant and enduring literary form that defies conventional boundaries.

Their storytelling is not merely an art; it is a means of survival—a way to keep history alive in a world that often overlooks it. In this light, African storytelling emerges as a profound literary tradition that challenges our understanding of literature itself. It invites us to explore how narratives shape cultures and identities, urging us to recognise that literature exists beyond written texts.

The griots remind us that every community has its storytellers, and every story carries within it the weight of history, identity, and wisdom. Thus, as we engage with African literature, let us honour the griots and their oral traditions. Let us acknowledge that their voices echo through time, teaching us about resilience, community, and the human experience. In doing so, we unveil not only the heart of African literature but also a universal truth: storytelling is an intrinsic part of what it means to be human.