Prof Okoth's passing, leaves many beyond literature and Rusinga with a sense of emptiness

About three months ago, I bumped into Prof Okoth Okombo outside Taifa Hall at the University of Nairobi. After the customary niceties, he excused himself, saying he had an important paper to print and read. “I prefer the hard copy to reading from screens,” he said.

“Screens treat the material you are reading almost as if it is your mother-in-law. You are not supposed to criticise it in any way. I like to write my own thoughts in the margins. That is why I buy my own books. Some people complain that I spoil the books, why can’t they buy their own copies?”

We compared notes on our latest readings and habits for a few more moments, finding unity in our fear that we might someday die without completing all the reading we purposed to do in this life. “Well,” I remarked, “If Plato was right, the ideal reading awaits us in the Hereafter. We will read ideal books in their ideal form in the ideal world to come.”

He scoffed at my Platonic witticism, remarking that he did not intend to read in the ideal world. “I read so late into the night. The only thing I want in the ideal world is ideal sleep. You and Plato can do all the reading that you want. But I will mostly be sleeping.” And that was our last meeting in 38 years.

For, I first met the late Okoth Okombo in September 1979. I was a first year student in the Department of Linguistics and African Languages, at the University of Nairobi. The university in the country had a very strict academic tradition. It required that every course must have at least one lecturer and one tutorial fellow. The tutors were mostly Masters students in their last year, or those who had recently graduated.

They sat in our undergraduate lectures, following the lessons closely and fleshing out areas for more focused engagement in smaller groups. Okoth was our tutorial fellow in the Introduction to General Linguistics course.

He stood out among other budding scholars at the time, being counted in the same league as Nick Wanjohi in the Department of Government, Jesse Mugambi and Dismus Masolo in Philosophy and Religious Studies and Kazungu Kadenge and Kithaka wa Mberia in our Kiswahili sub-department. Jacqueline Adhiambo Odhiambo (later Oduol) joined the fray two years later. With the exception of Kadenge, who passed on a few years later, they went on to become distinguished professors, in the fullness of time.

Having never been fully separated from the university fraternity for the past 38 years, I can say without fear of contradiction that this was the golden age of scholarship. The university was a veritable fountain of knowledge and an agora of ideas. There was an artistic event here and a scholarly event there – everywhere, virtually every evening. Public lectures brought into Education Theatre II and to Taifa Hall such luminaries as Ayi Kwei Armah, Taban Lo Liyong, Okot p’Bitek and our own resident scholars. It was remarkable to listen as the “Three Okoths” locked minds. There was Arthur Okoth Owiro and Hastings Okoth Ogendo, both from the Faculty of Law, and Duncan Okoth Okombo of Linguistics. You were swooned as they framed problems. They went on to deconstruct them, one step at a time.

Then came a sequenced response to each phase of the deconstruction. Scholarship was pure joy, what with witty arguments and turn of phrase from such other scholars as the late Katama Mkangi and Odegi Awuondo of Sociology, Ngotho wa Kariuki of Commerce, David Rubadiri and Kimani Gecau of Literature, Anyang’ Nyong’o and Michael Chege of Government, and our dean in the Faculty of Arts, Micere Githae-Mugo!

It is possibly invidious to draw public comparisons of your teachers. Yet, it would be remiss not to acknowledge the eclectic nature of Okoth’s appreciation of issues. He had an omnivorous appetite for knowledge. He traversed the forest of learning with the thirst of a latter-day hunter-gatherer, plucking and enriching his basket from every tree. He walked in the footsteps of Noam Chomsky, the father of modern linguistics; researching, reading and writing on just about any subject in the arts and social sciences. He towered high in the arena of public intellectuals, with rare celerity of mind, wit and humour.

I was especially privileged not just to learn from him, but also to work with him. Soon after I cut my professional teeth in broadcasting at the Voice of Kenya (now Kenya Broadcasting Corporation) in 1983, we launched a literary forum on radio, drawing in such others from the literati community as Chris Wanjala and the late Kavetsa Adagala.

A few years down the line, we would be at Heinemann, developing English Language course books for schools – he as the writer and me as the editor. We delved into other areas of writing and publishing. We threw ourselves into the work with passion. The catalogues say the rest.

Then we got other ideas. We wanted to give the country a different kind of leadership. Principled leadership. Together with Wanjiku Mbugwa and Rosemary Orlarle, we wrote a syllabus for the Friedrich Ebert Foundation’s Political Leadership Development Programme in 1991. We navigated the country, equipping younger persons with leadership and communication skills. Some went on to become household names – Njoki Ndung’u, Rachel Shebesh, Cecily Mbarire, Ken Njiru and Pauline Owoko stand out.

Beyond all this, Okoth was busy researching, teaching and doing social work. He worked hard to pay fees for poor boys and girls in Rusinga and to develop a sign language for Kenya. He was a friend, mentor and professional partner to many – and to me for 38 years. This passing leaves you with a sense of emptiness. Yet, it is heartening to know, as a Christian, that we shall someday meet on the beautiful show. May God rest his soul in eternal peace.

- The writer is a strategic public communications adviser. www.barrackmuluka.co.ke