The context in which this literature has to be examined is that of postcoloniality, which presumes many things, but the key factor from the point of literary survival is the impact of poverty. The economic weakness of most African countries puts pressure on the book industry because an impoverished population cannot buy or promote books. Added to this, in many African countries, is the existence of corrupt dictatorships which are hostile to criticism of any kind and which suppress any attempt at free speech. As a consequence, writing in such countries often becomes a hazard to life.

It is against this background that I would like to consider briefly (i) literacy; (ii) the reading public; (iii) criticism; (iv) the writer's choice of where to work and publish; and (v) publishing - factors that play a role in the survival of African literature.

(i) Literacy

Though literacy has had a long history in some African cultures (consider, for example, the Vai script in Liberia; the Ge'ez script in Ethiopia; Hausa written in Arabic script; literature sustained in the latter two), literacy is a relatively recent phenomenon in most parts of Black Africa. High levels of literacy, either in African or European languages, has never been widespread nor has it benefited large sections of the population.² In the the past couple of decades, this situation has been further undermined by the IMF-imposed Structural Adjustment Programmes which require that governments spend less and less on education because it is allegedly a waste of revenue.

The problem of falling literacy rates has been exacerbated by the fact that even many of those who are literate in an African or in a European language, or both, use their literacy functionally to get about the business of everyday life (i.e. they read newspapers, letters, the Bible, specialized professional literature, exam material, etc.). Just as classical music seems to be out of place in Africa, the habit of reading for intellectual entertainment is almost non-existent. In Ayi Kwei Armah's Fragments one of the characters has this to say: "I know what you're saying. It looks like a hopeless picture, doesn't it? Not too many literate people. And even those who are literate won't read".³ In a paper published two years after Fragments Abiola Irele writes: "the habit of reading was, and is, still new in these parts".⁴ And in October 1997, twenty-eight years after Armah's novel was published, in an interview Femi Osofisan still had to observe that in Africa reading is considered a burden because of the process by which it is taught: a tool to help go on with one's living, rather than as a pleasure, or as going through a rite of passage.

The reason for this is to be sought not solely in education but also in the very nature of interdependent societies. Whereas reading, which is essentially a solitary activity, goes very well in individualistic Western societies, it appears to be displaced in interdependent African culture where shared experience tends to be more valued and appreciated.⁵

(ii) The reading public

In his Translation, Rewriting and the Manipulation of Literary Fame Andre Lefevere observes that "publishers invest in a number of pages because they publish for a potential audience".⁶ He quotes Kgositsile probing into the composition of that audience: "who is the audience of the contemporary African writer? The bored Euro-American liberal literati searching for literary exotica in the African quarters of their empire? The African elite trained away from themselves in institutions of European design?".⁷ Kgositsile's questions are themselves the answers, bringing it home that the contemporary African writer has a rather limited audience. The reality, also expressed by Femi Osofisan in the above-mentioned interview, is that in Africa highbrow Europhone literature is, by rule, read by those who are literate in the European language and can afford to spend on it. This is the educated middle-class in general, and students of literature and university lecturers in particular.

African literature outside Africa seems to have lost the novelty that appealed to readers when literature in European languages started to come out of the continent. The reading public of this literature has, by now, shrunk mainly to literary critics and those studying, teaching and researching Africa and/or African literature.

(iii) Criticism

Despite Rand Bishop's emphatic claim that "Western criticism must accept the sovereignty of the African critics and of the critical standards they choose to use",⁸ highbrow Europhone African literature continues to be controlled and dominated by eurocentric/western critics. What is more, the influence of American literary journals especially is decisive in determining the trends in African literature and in deciding what does or does not constitute the canon of African literature. As Udenta Udenta puts it, "they hold us over a barrel: publish or perish".⁹

The dilemma of contemporary African writers of where to publish is decided for them by cross-cultural relations which are, sadly, still affected by the dominant vs. dominated paradigm. There still seems to be a necessity for intellectual and cultural movements of globally dominated nations to "be extroverted, to look to developments and currents in the central social formations for cues, for inspiration, for authentication".¹⁰

In spite of the fact that some of the most well-established African writers of the second generation have first established in Africa (i.e. Chenjerai Hove and Yvonne Vera, the poet Niyi Osundare, the dramatist Femi Osofisan, etc.), this situation seems to suggest that in order to become well-established and recognized as a literary figure of importance, it is a must for the African writer to publish in Europe or in America.

(iv) The writer's choice of where to work and publish

In the grip of all the economic, political, social and critical forces mentioned, contemporary African writers seem to be less than free to decide where they want to pursue their creative career and where they want to publish their work. Yet, a number of possibilities are open to them.

Remaining in their home country and choosing silence in the face of an oppressive dictatorship is as much among their options as is tackling the challenge of literary creation to defy the despotic rulers of their country through ingenuity, the use of metaphors, fables, suggestive imagery, parody, etc.; i.e. through the very properties inherent in the art of creativity itself. Publishing their work, maybe in a serialized form in newspapers and magazines. may compensate them for the lack of publishing outlets.

Up to the late 1970s, there used to be a plethora of African Literary or 'little' magazines, some of a very high quality (e.g. Black Orpheus), which provided publishing outlets not only for established authors, but also for budding writers. Much of the early work of the now 'big' names in African literature was first published in a number of (then) flourishing literary or cultural magazines. Today there are, sadly, very few publishing facilities of this sort, and this has clearly led to the stifling of creative writing. Okike has recently been revived thanks to the support of the Heinrich Boell Foundation, and has published some fine recent issues. An exciting new development was the launching, a year or so ago, of Glendora Review: African Quarterly on the Arts.

African authors may as well choose to live and work abroad, often in Europe or America, where they can have freedom of expression, find employment to earn a decent wage to sustain a livelihood, and where, most of all, they can find publishers and literary journals for their works.

Getting works published in Europe or America is, of course, not as easy as it may seem. However, the advantage of the West over the African continent is the availability, accessibility and efficiency of publishing outlets. The Ghanaian situation is representative of most of Africa. As Ghanaian author Manu Herbstein wrote: "There are a few Ghanaian publishers. My guess is that they survive by bringing out school text books. Some publish poetry, children's books and an occasional novel or non-fiction work. Ghanaians, by and large, do not have much disposable income to spare for books. I am pretty sure that nine out of ten Ghanaian writers, given the chance of being published abroad, would take it. Include me in that. I hope to have a novel published abroad next year".¹¹

(v) Publishing

Publishers, as has been mentioned, invest to publish for a potential audience. In Africa, as we have seen, this audience is limited to those capable and willing to sustain a book industry. Lack of a sizeable reading public is, however, only one factor in the general malaise publishing in Africa is suffering from. The continent's publishing industry has been left severely crippled not only by economic failure, but also by the Structural Adjustment Programmes. Now it is struggling on with out-of-date, failing machinery and enormously increased costs of production resulting from the gross devaluation of currencies. Manuscripts lie forgotten in publishers' drawers; works seem to get published mainly if they are prescribed as secondary school or university course material.

The marketing of books, especially on the overseas market, is inefficient or, in many cases, non-existent. Distribution is difficult because of poor transportation systems and the general lack of infrastructure. Governments usually handle the distribution of educational books, but the remainder is distributed through trade outlets, church stalls, pavement "bookshops" and newspaper stands. Arboleda writes: "Kenyan distribution problems are representative of the situation throughout most of Africa. The trade outlets in Kenya are located mainly in major cities and large towns. Nairobi has the largest number of outlets and the largest bookshop in the country, the Textbook Centre, which controls approximately 20 percent of the total book market".¹²

Despite the overall gloomy picture, as Hans Zell observes, in Zimbabwe, Kenya, Nigeria and even in Ghana there are particularly dynamic publishing companies, and new imprints continue to appear all over Africa.¹³

Outside Africa, publishers seem to have lost interest in African literature. The once popular African Writers' Series seem to be stagnating. Browsing in bookshops leaves one with the impression that only well-established names of the first generation of African writers get published or reprinted; new titles rarely appear; new talents are seldom launched. The second generation of African writers hardly seems to be published by large publishers.¹⁴

Conclusion

Can African literature, then, survive without large international publishers?
Oral traditions, popular literature and African language literature have never had to turn to Western critics for acclaim and have never depended on international publishers for their survival. In contrast, the "elite" Europhone African literature seems to be at the crossroads. On the one hand it has become accustomed to rely on the external and powerful publishers and international prizes which contributed to bestowing its fame over the past four decades. On the other hand, there has been (and continues to be) quite a substantial output of African-published African literature in Africa, despite the considerable problems faced by the African book industries of today. Strong enough roots seem to have developed with African writers, such as Chinua Achebe, Wole Soyinka, Ama Ata Aidoo, et al., published locally at realistic, though expensive, prices. The withdrawal of large world publishers from the African literary scene may result in a limited availability of Europhone African literature both in and outside Africa, which may well result in a further decrease in the number of its readers. Western centres of research will probably also be affected. But Europhone African literature itself may, at last, be allowed to live on without interference from outside, which eventually may lead to a healthier development of this literature governed by its own rules.

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