It was Mark Twain who once said that biographies are but clothes and buttons of the man; the biography of the man himself cannot be written.

Yet, Maya Angelou did write hers. With an extravagant candour, and a rare gift for lyrical prose, Maya released seven autobiographies enriching the memoirist genre of books like no other author of her ilk.

Coupled with her poetic abilities and a life so rich, only few of us can go through half what she did; Maya Angelou was a rare gift to humanity. As a black girl, growing up in the racist South was a triple tragedy as she wrote in her groundbreaking 1969 autobiography, I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings. She explained that as a woman, she had to deal with masculine prejudice, white illogical hate and the black lack of power.

Her poetry was music to the ears of many. As a feminist, she was not overly pushy with her ideals. Rather, she effused a rare maturity and humanity that reminded us that as human beings, we owe each other mutual respect.

Hence, she was widely respected and recited her poems and delivered numerous lectures annually across the United States. She also graced national occasions, including the inauguration of Bill Clinton in 1993, where she recited her poem, On The Pulse of Morning.

But it was her poem, Phenomenal Woman which became wildly popular. In the poem, she explained in simple terms what it takes to be a woman.

Women are often pressured by TV, movies, fashion, advertising and marketing to conform to the narrow minded expectations of those who drive Hollywood and the consumerist society that we live in. But Maya urged women like her to be comfortable with whatever nature has endowed them with. It was a poem void of any feminist creed, but an empowering poem all the same.

So, what are the literary lessons we can learn from Maya on writing biographies?

1. Dark secrets are key

Local biographies are always airbrushed; little or no whiff of scandal you will come across. While we know that many ‘great’ men in this country grabbed everything on their way to riches, most proclaim the virtues of hard work and the narrative of grass to grace is commonplace.

In civilised societies, individuals always try to come clean on their youthful indiscretions, terrible starter marriages and ruinous financial decisions that nearly crippled them. Alcohol and substance abuse are common confessions among would-be American presidents.

Maya, for instance, was raped at the age of seven by her mother’s boyfriend, forcing her to go into voluntary dumbness in the naïve assumption that it was her voice that had killed the man.

In her formative years, she worked as a dancer, singer, waitress and prostitute. She grappled with life’s dilemmas such as lesbianism at a young age.

While some of these activities are too dark to be disclosed by Kenyan standards, they are the very things that strike a chord with her admirers.

Kenyan great men and women who are obliged to write their biographies should be ready to tell us about their addictions and failings, their participation in corrupt practices and their motivations. It is what humanises them, and we are always grateful that even great men often make mistakes on the path to greatness.

Maya, however, was not entirely honest with her marriages and relationships.

2. Biographies for each phase of life

The biographies of Kenyan politicians are normally brief. Elsewhere, we are fed a tome of a book that can make for painful reading. Female biographers such as Maya and Doris Lessing favour a serial approach to biographies where they break their lives into various phases, which I find a better approach.

We are totally different persons at different times in our lives. From the heady and reckless youthful idealism to the confused phases of relationships and marriage, in between a dozen bad decisions, to the anxious middle-age to the mellow old age, we go through so much that informs our various motives and fears. Mixing your childhood, adulthood and old age can rob a book of the power to inspire.

3. A life worth telling touched people

I have seen some Kenyan politicians whose participation in the public sphere caused more harm than good try to spin hagiographies when everyone knows what they did while in power. People who negatively impact the lives of people should spare us their humdrum tales.

Maya did something to the world. She participated in the Civil Rights Movement because she was affected by the racism. By sharing her life with us, she did much to show women that no matter how many times you fall, the power to rise again in within the individual.

4. Art should precede politics

Anyone who has read Malcolm X’s biography would agree that Alex Haley did a terrific job. The book is as much a work of art as it is an incredible story of the radical thinker.

Nelson Mandela’s Long Walk To Freedom is a perfect book, mostly because he hired the services of the overly talented Ezekiel Mphalele and Nobel Laureate Nadine Gordimer. Similarly, Maya Angelou’s poems and books shine with great prose, style and a lyricism that is admirable.

Not many locals take time to get the right person to ghost write or write for them. This is the reason so many biographies in Kenya are forgettable.

Source for a good writer, who will write with colour. Art enriches the book and can make the politics therein memorable. Bad writing can kill a book.

5. Oral traditions of storytelling necessary in writing

When you read, Mandela’s autobiography, there is a sense that he is talking to you. Ditto Malcolm X’s autobiography. It stems from our ability to narrate stories as Africans.

Local writers should employ the right devices in writing biographies. The disinterested way of writing and regurgitating facts is a killjoy to what can be otherwise great tales.

Fare thee well Maya Angelou. The world is a poorer place in your absence.