When the Kenya Truth, Justice and Reconciliation (TJRC) released its reports in 2013, I was surprised that my country had committed atrocities to its own people at various times in our short history since independence. The worst was the Wagalla Massacre that claimed over 5,000 lives and wounded thousands. These blind spots in our history have been a major cause of agony among many marginalized people.
Stories of women and men who are unable to have children because of what the military did to them abound in our society. At the release of the reports, I was shocked that victims just wanted the Kenyan government to acknowledge wrongdoing and apologize. Having lived through a post-election violence in 2007, which claimed the lives of at least 1,500 people, I felt that an apology was insufficient. Reading Carolyn Yoder’s book on Trauma Healing has enabled me to understand that trauma healing is a unique process to every individual or community and that in order for healing to occur, other support systems, including government apology, are needed.
Yoder’s book has widened my understanding of the subject of trauma healing. I have learned about the close link between violence and trauma, and how it relates to some of the events I have experienced in Kenya. For instance, it was widely claimed that part of the reason Kenyans fought against each other in 2007 and 2008 was that of unaddressed injustices that have traumatized some communities since independence. Therefore, unresolved trauma is dangerous because at some point traumatized people can resort to revenge or to other violent means so as to give themselves a sense of ‘closure.’
Yoder’s discussion of the nexus between biology and trauma challenges my assumptions that trauma is just a social construct. Despite her explanation, I still grapple with questions such as whether trauma can be dealt with the same way people deal with depression or under what circumstances can a community builder recommend medical attention for trauma cases as opposed to a social process such a Transformative Community Conferencing or Restorative Justice.
Reading Yoder’s explanation about secondary trauma has enabled me to reflect on my experience as a teacher and education counselor in Nairobi. Most of my students and their parents had fled wars in their respective countries. Even though some of these children had not directly experienced the wars their parents fled from, their perspective about life was majorly shaped by their parents’ experience of war. The narratives parents passed down to children affected them immensely. Unfortunately, neither I nor any of my teachers really understood the concept of trauma especially, one associated with consequences of war. Such children need specially trained teachers to heal.
Traumatic events shatter the world as we know it and shape victims’ future world. For instance, with increased terrorist attacks and constant electoral violence, people in my community (and perhaps in all communities) constantly worry about their security. Every election year, people vote for leaders from their community because they assume that such leaders better understand people’s trauma, and therefore will help them heal. But the reality is that only one person can be a president. So, communities that do not get the presidency are always scared.
Does listening to an audiobook give the same satisfaction or intellectual fulfillment as reading the book? I grappled with this question a couple of months ago when I bought my first audiobook. Having spent most of my life reading books as a student, teacher, and publishing editor, it never occurred to me that I can consume books in any other way other than reading. So, listening to my first audiobook, Einstein: His Life and Universe, felt like cheating. But given that I listened to most of these books while doing other things like working out at the gym or jogging, I cared less until last week when I listened to the South African comedian, Trevor Noah’s Born a Crime: Stories from a South African Childhood.
Trevor Noah’s story, narrated by himself, pierced my ears and went straight to my heart through my brain. It walked me down the memory lane to my boyhood when I could sit by my grandma, and drink from her cup of stories. I had an insatiable appetite for stories, and she had acres of them, and a knack for narration. I wallowed in these stories and developed a passion for literature. Unfortunately, going through a system of education that privileges written literature over oral literature compelled me to perfect the art of reading as a primary means of learning, and getting new information. In fact, apart from a few lessons in oral literature, most students in Kenyan schools have no access to forums or platforms for learning how to narrate stories.
Listening to Trevor Noah’s book reminded me of the importance of storytelling as a means of learning. Trevor gives an account of his life and his family during and after apartheid in South Africa in a way that only he could tell – he relives his life through the narration. A son of a Swiss-German father and an Xhosa mother, Trevor was born at a time interracial marriages were banned in South Africa. As a result, he was not allowed to meet his father in the open. He describes his life as a colored child in a country that considered his existence illegal.
As a polyglot, he can demonstrate how he navigated the racial and tribal conundrum in South Africa in a manner that connects you to the contexts he describes. His rhythm, pitch, intonation, and voice enriches the listeners experience without necessarily curbing your imagination. This type of narration is significant for the story as it captures aspects of a text that even a well-seasoned reader, unfamiliar with the context of the text will likely miss. For example, he mimics his bullies in their languages. Furthermore, his occasional adaption of South African English accent makes the narration lively and authentic.
Audiobooks make multitasking possible and straightforward. They allow people who are usually busy with activities that demand visual sense or those traveling – driving or riding in public transportation – to enjoy books. With noise-canceling headphones, one can listen to books even in public and noisy places. Those doing house chores or working out may find it convenient to listen to books, something that is nearly impossible with print books.
Audiobooks are also convenient for children and adults interested in learning how to pronounce words in English (or any other language). The fear that listening to books can lead to shallow understanding of a story are alleviated by an article by Daniel Willingham, a professor of psychology at the University of Virginia, who argues that listening to an audiobook is precisely like reading print, except that the latter requires decoding, which is basically figuring out words from print. Moreover, experiments by various scholars have shown high correlations of scores on listening and reading comprehension tests in adults.
Authors and publishers in Kenya should embrace audiobooks as it increases distribution of their works. With the continued advancement in technology and the increasing governmental interest in integrating technology in the school curriculum, authors and publishers who invest in audio books are bound to reap huge rewards. The truth is that the reading public is continuously changing with the advances in technology.