Bridging
the Socio-Economic Gap against All Odds
Although
Mwangi Gicheru crossed the bridge of life to death in May 2014, it is
interesting to note that his texts continue to inspire many people to bridge
the gap of literacy though a reading of his novels. Indeed, Gicheru is revered
for titles such as: Two in One
(1970), The Ivory Merchant (1976), Across the Bridge (1979), The Double-Cross (1983), The Mixers (1991) and The Ring in the Bush (2013). From
comments posted on the internet, it is obvious that Across the Bridge has left an indelible mark on the minds of many
as an initiatory text into the world of Kenyan literature.
Across the Bridge
narrates the story of two young lovers, Chuma and Caroline Wambui, whose social
and economic worlds are distinctly apart. Chuma is a house boy serving the
family of Kahuthu, Caroline’s father, a civil servant representing the
neo-colonial bourgeoisie or as described in the text a black-duke. In this post-independence
social setting, interactions between employees and family members of their
employer is characterised by a master servant relationship and any cordial
relations or attempts at familiarity are vehemently thwarted. Thus, the rich
neo-colonial suburbs are depicted as ailing from extreme loneliness since
relationships between the servants from different households are also
forbidden.
Caroline
Wambui, Kahuthu’s only daughter tragically suffers from this set up which
denies human interactions amongst the different social classes. As a young
schooling teenager, Caroline yearns for friends both male and female, but the
father’s hawk eye and security detail denies her the possibility to make
friends. Devoid of a human touch, apart from that of her parents, and yearning
to quell the heat of teenage emotions, Caroline crosses the social bridge and
reaches out to Chuma, the only young man within her reach; albeit, the houseboy
with whom she is not supposed to have any second thoughts about.
Chuma
considers himself “A factory reject!” because he “[suspects] God must have
created [him] shortly before lunch. The lunch bells were ringing when He was
making [him]. In a hurry to leave His workshop, He left [him] incomplete. Worst
of all, He gave [Chuma] the brain of a chicken and the body of a human.” This
sense of dark humour pervades throughout the text providing it with comic
relief from the tragic happenings that unfold thereafter. Therefore, in his
self-deprecation, Chuma does not imagine that Caroline would cast her gaze
towards him since the socio-economic setup bars any possible bridging of the
gap between them let alone any physical relations.
However,
as the narrator observes: “It was only natural that Caroline, already an adult,
and beautiful and lonely, would try to seek the company of a member of the
opposite sex.” Consequently, both Chuma and Caroline have to cross the social bridge
since “the only man within [Caroline’s] restricted reach was the only man
within the home compound. The houseboy named Chuma.” Unfortunately, the heat of
their passion for one another is unbridled and Caroline becomes pregnant as a
result of their nightly rendezvous at Chuma’s quarters occasioned by bodily
explorations under the cover of darkness.
The
rest is history. Chuma takes off, Caroline chases after him and Kahuthu is
compelled to sue Chuma for eloping with his daughter. Although Chuma wins the
court case and is determined to keep Caroline as his wife, it is apparent that
he cannot do so within his economic means. Caroline is socialised and
accustomed to a high life that is diametrically opposed to the abject poverty
in Chuma’s home. Realising that he has crossed the bridge to adulthood and
responsibility, Chuma devices all sorts of plans to fend for his wife in a bid
to keep her happy as much as possible.
It
is the pressure from seeing Caroline’s discomfort, her beautiful face becoming
disfigured by the strains of destitution that gnaws at Chuma’s senses and
drives him to leave beyond his economic means. Much later when he has mastered
the art of pilfering money from his boss’s bar in a bid to make extra income,
he blames Caroline for his actions and ambition. He ends up being jailed and
within that period Caroline is reunited with her family and shortly after
whisked far away from Nairobi to Mombasa.
Chuma’s
efforts to track Caroline after his release from jail fuel his desire to
finally cross the economic bridge for good. He contends that Caroline has
planted the seed for ambition in his heart, a feeling that he says he cannot
shake off. Ironically, he gets into bad company with Kisinga, an armed criminal
who argues that there is no difference between what he does and what
politicians do since they are all thieves; thereby justifying his criminal
acts. It is Kisinga who preys on Chuma’s weakness and desire for economic
liberation to induct the young man into the world of crime.
Consciously,
Chuma crosses the moral bridge when he aids Kisinga to clobber a tourist couple
in Mombasa so that they can steal money to finance their way back to Nairobi.
Although Chuma had previously engaged in crime, the reader is hopeful that he
can be redeemed from deteriorating into full-fledged criminal activities, but
after the incident in Mombasa Chuma resigns himself to fate and commits to make
money in any way possible. He rationalises that this is the only way to win
back the love of his life. He even confronts Caroline and accuses her of
planting the seed of ambition in his soul.
A
bank heist in which Chuma is involved culminates in his acquisition of a huge chunk
of money. In his folly to appear important, to be recognised as a man of means,
he makes the mistake of parading himself at a golf club that Kahuthu frequents.
Chuma experiences dire alienation and even begins to hate the new identity he
has forced on himself. This is worsened by his encounter with Caroline who
rejects him even after he has invested so much money to buy her gifts hoping to
impress her. A scuffle in a luxurious tourist resort culminates in critical
injury of Caroline and eventual arrest of Chuma.
Underlying
the narrative are patriarchal insinuations that women are materialistic and
their hearts can only be won with material things. In fact, it appears as
though the text endorses the thinking that women are the cause of men’s
troubles. Although Chuma and Caroline are later reunited, certain moral
questions are left unanswered. Is the narrative suggesting that it is alright
to steal money and invest it in a good cause thereby sanitising the act? Is it
not possible to make money without relying on dirty underhand dealings as is
commonly practiced in most third world nations? Are men incapable of working
hard to make it in life without women as trophies for their hard work?
Across the Bridge
makes for an interesting read by appealing to the popular. It demonstrates the
possibility of love between two unmatched teens by way of a thrilling journey
characterised by setbacks to their quest to stay close. Excitement in the text builds
through their yearning to conquer the insurmountable as both Chuma and Caroline
strive to demystify the thinking that the master’s daughter cannot cast her eye
on the master’s servant. Although Chuma is to blame for pursuing an
unacceptable economic path, the society at large is cast as the main culprit
because it harbours social settings which favour certain people at the expense
of others. It therefore remains for us to see who would not be willing to go
across the bridge of social, political, economic and any other structures that
hinder our progress in our desire for self-actualisation.
I am not yet aware whether any of his texts have transitioned into the movie industry in the form of adaptations. However there was word that Gicheru was working on a script from Across the Bridge before he passed on. It would be exciting to see this alongside adaptations from John Kiriamiti's trilogy.
