This felt to me like a fairly mismatched collection of essays, only the first few of which are related directly to the ideas in the title.

I found the first part the most interesting and thought-provoking. The second part was a series of stories about various African intellectuals and public figures and I wasn't all that interested in most of them, although as a South African I was most interested in the SA chapters.

There's also a fair amount of repetition, which makes sense for standalone essays, but reading them all at once in a book it felt like the same contextual info was provided over and over again.

I want to rate this higher because these ideas are important, but as a reading experience I didn't particularly enjoy it.

A wonderfully eye opening look into how language is used as a tool of colonisation and the power in reclaiming the languages of our ancestors. This book also introduced me to lots of writers that I had never heard of but will definitely be reading now. I had never really realised how radical it was to write and publish in African languages until this book and this has definitely inspired me to read more works by African authors.

We has such a god start but in the end I felt like a had read two different books. Part 1 was the commentary I needed from the text going in, the facts I picked this up for in the first place. Part 2 however felt like a bunch of cool stories you tell to your grandkids to prove that back in your day you lived a whole life. It felt like I was reading the speech the author would have given had they been asked to speak at any of those people's funerals. It should have explained the history more because I personally am a baby historian and I know nothing about Kenya, after reading this I still know very little, this would have been a great opportunity to dive into Kenyan politics, history etc

Part 1 made a strong case for decolonizing language but beyond that I didn't see anything else the book talked about. By the end it felt like name dropping which made me skim some sections.

I originally downloaded this in July but when I went to read the Kindle version the text was corrupted so I had to read it on the dreaded NetGalley Shelf, and the download date shows for that now! I had slightly ashamedly not read anything by this author and unfortunately I am not sure it's the right place to start. It's a collection of essays on decolonizing English studies and the use of the English language in Africa in general and his home country of Kenya, explaining how to be truly decolonized, countries need to have a literature and a critical literature in their home languages, and not just in English, which will then remain what Nkrumah would call under neocolonialism. He also explains how he spoke out and ended up exiled, and then writes about a number of figures and authors with whom I was not particularly familiar. It felt like a posthumous collection to pick up any un-anthologised pieces, which is great in itself, but it was quite fragmented if you were new to this author, and also a little repetitive. There are some interesting points about how the colonial project worked to suppress home languages, though, I enjoyed his writing style, and I am keen to read more.

Blog review 24 August https://librofulltime.wordpress.com/2025/08/24/anti-colonialism-and-pan-africanism-books-by-ngugi-wa-thiongo-and-about-kwame-nkrumah/

This book really made me consider not only our curriculum in school, but also the language I use when teaching it.

Decolonizing Language and Other Revolutionary Ideas is a vital and thought-provoking collection of essays that expands upon Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o’s lifelong exploration of language, identity and decolonisation. Ngũgĩ, one of Africa’s most influential literary and theoretical voices, examines how language shapes culture, history and power, while also highlighting the damage caused by colonial linguistic hierarchies.

The essays reaffirm his argument for writing and teaching in African languages as a way to reclaim cultural autonomy and resist colonial structures. What makes this book particularly engaging is its accessibility. Despite the depth of the subject, Ngũgĩ’s style is clear, compelling and suitable for both those new to his work and those already familiar with his theories.

The chapters that reflect on contemporaries such as Chinua Achebe and Wole Soyinka add richness to the discussion. These tributes are both celebratory and analytical, offering important perspectives on the role of African scholars and their contributions to the ongoing struggle against linguistic and cultural domination.

Although the focus is on English colonisation in Africa, the ideas resonate far more widely, encouraging readers to question and dismantle linguistic hierarchies in other contexts. The book is not only a valuable teaching resource but also a necessary read for anyone interested in decolonisation, cultural identity and the politics of language.

Read more at The Secret Book Review.

Thiongo’s ideas about decolonizing language are genius and thought provoking. However I don’t think this is the best introduction to his work. A lot of the book are mini profiles of other figures in African literature and their impact. This is an interesting jumping off point to other work but not immediately clear from the book title so I was a little disappointed in that regard. However it would make a good supplementary title.

Thanks to NetGalley for the advance copy.

Ngugi wa Thiong'o died just a few months ago and I have a few of his books on my TBR, so I was very pleased to get this collection which is due to be published in August 2025.

Ngugi wa Thiong'o had a traumatic childhood under British rule in Kenya - his brother was shot in the back after not hearing an order from a British officer because he was deaf..., later went to prison for several years because of his political plays; but this collection of essays is quite light on the autobiographical details. Instead he writes about his academic career and his beginnings as a writer, and the influence of English (and French) in African academia. He rightfully questions why an Icelandic author can write in Icelandic and expect a successful novel to be translated but an African author, from any country, will be expected to write in English if he wants Amy chance to be published. There's a lot about the politics of languages and how colonial attitudes still prevail even amongst academics from Kenya, Uganda, etc.

The second half was a bit lost on me, through my own lack of knowledge, because each essay is about a different African novelist or playwright, many of which (apart from Achebe) I didn't know. A good number of these were female authors which was good to see. That was was a real literary criticism, deep and detailed but yes... Not as interesting for someone who hasn't read the books.

Overall though, I learnt a lot, found the essays very readable (but at times repetitive) and wrote down the names of many authors I want to read next.

The reason why I was interested in reviewing this book is because I work in the field of English language education textbook publishing, and it’s important for me, as someone from the “inner circle” of English (see Kachru, 1992), to help produce materials that reflect a greater global representation. After all, in the likes of common textbook units such as “hobbies”, not every young person around the world goes horse riding at the weekend or attends homecoming parties.

There have been writings by “inner circle” authors that have critiqued the enforcement of English as a national language in lands outside of England, but it’s only been more recently that those in the West have had more opportunities to hear the voices of those directly impacted by the dominance of the English language. And, thank goodness for this refreshing change. I regrettably didn’t know the name of Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o before reading this book. He has written a number of much-praised works that ultimately call for the revitalization of African languages in intellectual and literary life, although he sadly passed away in the spring of 2025, just a few months before this book is to be released.

The general structure and content of the book is as follows: The first part provides some context and commentary on why Europhonism has been so destructive for the African continent (and elsewhere). The second part presents and discusses academics who have challenged Europhonism, including Chinua Achebe.

In the first part, the book inevitably includes mention of colonialism. From the book, I come to learn about two different models of education that were espoused across colonized parts of Africa and which stemmed from traditional British models and which largely continue today. About the Horton–Asquith model, which Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o particularly despises, he says something very pointed:
“A people can be deprived of wealth and power, but one of the worst deprivations is depriving them of the means of perceiving and articulating their deprivation, and thereby of developing a vision and strategy and tactics for fighting it.”

In my publishing work, these deprivations remain real. For example, typically we can’t make reference to those from the LGBTQIA+ communities [“some markets won’t like that”]; we can’t feature homeless people [“we need to be aspirational”]; we need to keep naming to Peter and Sara [“international markets won’t be able to pronounce names like Rakesh and Niamh”]. In one publishing company, I was not allowed to include images of Asians, even though the target markets for our books were in Asia. (I did fight back, but to no avail, with the argument that it looks strange to be looking at a book and noticing that no-one in it looks like you.)

Other, very thought-provoking lines from the book include:
“Imperial educational policies were meant to create colonies of the mind.”
“Abnormality becomes normalized.” (This could also read “Exclusion becomes normalized.”)
“Balanced and inclusive education calls for a new slogan: network, not hierarchy.”
“Globalization began with the Black body.” (a nod to slavery)

As Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o emphasizes, the problem is that Western education models remain so entrenched across the world for myriad reasons (and we can therefore extend this statement to explain why there are so many outdated legacy facets in contemporary English language education textbooks). His most critical argument is that if we deny the expression of local languages, we deny people their heritage and their complete identity. Entire histories get lost. Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o makes a call to not only bring back “marginal” languages but to place them center stage. However, the challenge is how exactly can we bring them back to a more prominent position, since Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o also recognizes that some of the best contemporary writers from Africa are in many ways the product of Western-styled universities, as are many government leaders. And, this lack of “how” is maybe the weakness of this book. Can we truly go back and undo all of the colonial influence, or do we need to find a middle ground or a new pathway? Other academics already seem to have long-since identified some of the challenges to this question and have elaborated to a greater depth to what Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o is calling for. For example, Tuck and Yang (2012) warn through thorough explanation that deliberate effort at decolonialism can risk “further settler colonialism”.

Overall, I think this book offers a valuable contribution to discussions around understanding and critiquing colonial legacies as well as considering the impact of selectively erasing identities from books and education systems. The themes/information in this book won’t be new to most of the readers who gravitate toward this title (e.g., Linda Tuhiwai Smith, Walter Mignolo, Boaventura de Sousa Santos, Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak, Gloria Ladson-Billings, Suresh Canagarajh, Robert Phillipson, and Alistair Pennycook have solidly tackled these themes elsewhere; hence why I was close to giving this book four stars), but it seems that we can’t be served enough in terms of the book’s themes, particularly when today’s dominating Western discourse and governmental actions appear to be more about excluding rather than including, so I have given it five stars.