Sing praises to literary greats when they’re alive

“She was a great novelist”. “His plays did not spare anybody.” “Her poems roared above the loudest lion”. These are some of the pieces we read when one of the great men and women of the letters passes on.
To say the least, these are crocodile tears, shed to deceive the public. Instead, let us praise and condemn these writers when they are still alive.
When great lettermen and women like Francis Imbuga, Grace Ogot, Chinua Achebe, Prof Ali Mazrui, Majorie Oludhe Macgoye and, recently, Elechi Amadi  of The Concubine die, so much is said about them. Acres of space in the dailies are dedicated to them. I really do not know how all this helps the departed.
Why do we wait to shower these big minds with praise only when they are gone? If we feel we have things to say about a fallen member of the literati, the best we can do is to immortalise them in writing.
I believe that a true friend to an artist is one who tells them the truth. Court poetry has no place, especially when the poetry is about one who cannot hear.
Since it is wrong to engage in hypocrisy, I will not wait until they go to praise them. Today, I want to praise Austin Bukenya, Chris Lukorito Wanjala and David Kakuta Mulwa.
When I Met a Thief, “on the beach, on the coast…”, I met Mwalimu Austin Bukenya. Mwalimu, in “Whititude”, you touched on the standard attitude. You of The Bride are not just a teacher. You are a mentor. Unlike many who attempt to emulate you, you have always outdone them.
You continuously wear your fingers every week to furnish your readers with Reflections of a Scholar.
The humility with which you handle yourself gives a true reflection of a scholar. Anyone who has had the privilege to interact with you leaves not just satisfied but literally enriched.
When I invited you to officiate at a writer’s forum in August last year, your reply still came from a scholar. “I will be delivering a paper in a similar function at Makerere.” In you, it is true that the higher one goes in academics, the cooler one becomes. You respect your students, peers and teachers.
When I hear the name David Mulwa, I don’t just see Redemption, I see Master and Servant. To me these are masterpieces. In bringing out the hypocrisy in church leadership, Redemption has no equal.
Many would and still spend their last coin to watch you on stage. You are not just a teacher, you are a great thespian. I want you to know that you are not just any other David. Those in the Schools and Colleges Drama Festival look at you with awe and admiration. To the bench, you bring empathy and expertise and to the stage you bring teamwork and experience. You preach what you drink.
Chris Wanjala, Austin Bukenya’s bakoki, you are knowledgeable. You are a great critic.
The theories of criticism you employ leave you more endeared to your audience than ever before.
As a result of your deep and humble approach in aggressive literary criticism, you do not leave anybody hurt. Your mode of criticism does not heat. It lights up all your admirers.
Mwalimu, I will not wait to say this when you are no more. I want you to know how great you are. Who does not know your great contribution as the first editor of The East African Journal? Who does not know that it is at that time when it was a real regional academic journal? You are not just another statistic, you can be counted.
For the three greats, I did not want to say this when you are gone. I want you to know that in literary circles, you are already immortal. You created art, you were read, you are being read and will continue to be read.
For those who wait until a great has fallen to open their taps of praise, let them know where they lie. Let them know what you do not like about them. They will rectify, if the changing will lead them into the literary heaven.
 
The writer is a motivational speaker, author of Stella at Crossroads, The Bridgeline Revision Series and a commentator on matters education