Bakayoko

The strike that informs the plot of Sembene Ousmane’s novel God’s Bits of Wood is more than a struggle for worker’s rights and benefits; it is a catalyst for radical change in the communities along the Dakar-Niger railroad in West Africa. Throughout the novel Ousmane masterfully navigates the complex issues that arise in a society forced to question its deeply held prejudices and traditions. Although he is clearly on the side of the strikers, Ousmane does not deify them; his characters are realistically flawed. Such is the case with Bakayoko, the ideologue at the heart of the strike, who does not appear in person until late in the novel but whose name is on everyone’s lips from the very beginning. In the following excerpt Bakayoko is criticized by another strike leader, Alioune, about his methods:

“[Alioune] was annoyed by the way Bakayoko had spoken about Beaugosse, because he knew the story of N’Deye Touti and the boy. He lay down again and said very softly, as if he were talking to himself, ‘You know, the difficult thing about you is that although you understand the problems very well, you don’t understand men—or if you do understand them, you never show it. But you expect them to understand every word you say, and if they don’t, you lose your temper. Then they become timid, because they know they are not as intelligent as you are, and they don’t like to be made fools of. So the result is that no one dares to do anything when you are not around…I ought to tell you that I wrote a letter to Lahbib about it. You were already on the way here when it was sent, but now you won’t be surprised if he mentions it to you’” (209-210).

This paragraph is surprising because it is the first outright criticism of Bakayoko, who for most of the book is resoundingly praised by the strikers. However, upon further inspection, Alioune’s statement turns out to be dead-on. In his response to Alioune, Bakayoko admits to having lost his sense of perspective, comparing himself to a train conductor who thinks only of the final destination and not the concerns of the passengers. The situation Alioune refers to regarding Beaugosse and N’Deye is representative of Bakayoko’s shortcomings. N’Deye is strongly attracted to Bakayoko and Beaugosse (who wants to marry her) is jealous and resentful. And yet Bakayoko is oblivious to this insignificant (to him) human drama and cruelly rejects N’Deye’s later suggestion of marriage. In addition, he doesn’t recognize that all of the intelligence and knowledge he has gathered from Western political books has put up a wall between him and the people, even though he is using those ideas for their benefit. While the strikers may admire Bakayoko, they feel closer to leaders like Alioune and Lahbib who are more attuned to their interests. They were the ones who were around during the times of deprivation and hardship when Bakayoko was nowhere to be found.

Of course, despite his flaws, Bakayoko plays a key role in the strike. It is suggested that he is the strike’s originator and he definitely traveled extensively in an effort to convince all of the towns along the railway to join in. He is successful in persuading the other worker’s unions of French-occupied West Africa to join the strike, which tips the scales and leads to victory. He provides the ideological underpinnings of the strike, but theory must coexist with reality, and as Alioune says, he does not understand men (or women for that matter). Bakayoko has some radical ideas about how society should be, but he’s out of touch with how it is. Strike leaders like Lahbib are necessary intermediaries between Bakayoko’s ideology and the reality of the people, without them it would never work.

When the strike is over, Bakayoko returns home and leaves the strike leaders to deal with the practical arrangements that must be made. He had an important role to play, but Ousmane leaves no doubt in the readers’ minds that he is a flawed and limited character. He is not the savior that he appeared to be at the beginning of the novel. To drive home his point about the tension between theory and reality (or Bakayoko and the common man), Ousmane writes (at the end of Alioune and Bakayoko’s late night conversation), “A voice from the other side of the office interrupted [Bakayoko]. ‘What you are saying is very interesting, but also very tiring. Tomorrow is going to be a hard day’” (210).

Work Cited
Ousmane, Sembene. God's Bits of Wood. Essex, UK: Heinemann, 1970. Print.

The Importance of Costumes in Sia

In A Short Guide to Writing about Film, Timothy Corrigan writes that costumes provide “the key to a character’s identity” (58). This is especially true in the film Sia: The Dream of the Python, which chronicles the political intrigue surrounding a young woman who is chosen as a sacrifice to the Python-God. Not only does costuming provide insight into the various characters, it also illustrates the changes that they undergo as the narrative develops. Most importantly, the costumes highlight and underscore the film’s critique of politics and religion.

The first costumes that the audience encounters are the robes of the priests, who are purportedly engaged in a ritual to determine the will of the Python-God. The physical appearance of these robes (long and dark with hoods covering their eyes) shrouds these men in mystery and mysticism and gives the audience no reason to doubt that they are communing with the gods. Likewise, the emperor and the townspeople are taken in by their appearance and do not doubt their authority (although some of the villagers are skeptical). In the scene before Sia’s rape, the priests are revealed without their hoods, smoking and drinking like any other men. It doesn’t take too long for the audience to realize that they have been taken in by the costumes; these priests are merely men acting on their carnal urges.

In other cases costumes do not obscure the characters’ true nature, but underline them. For instance, Kaya Maghan (the emperor) is dressed in an opulent purple robe and tasseled hat that represent his power and wealth. This costume also serves to illustrate the distance between him and his people (a circumstance he frequently bemoans but is ultimately unable to rectify). When he realizes the impotence of his advisors he strips off his outer robe and hat as if that act will puncture the bubble in which he lives. However, underneath he is still wearing a gold tunic and he is still no closer to knowing his people. The village madman, Kerfa, also has a distinctive form of dress which sets him apart from the majority of the townspeople. The audience can immediately tell that he is different from everyone else. His cape and raggedy shirt lead the people to think that he is a lunatic (as well as his rambling speech), but as the story unfolds we find that he is the only one who sees things clearly. If he is mad, it’s because he understands what’s going on and is powerless to stop it.

The changes to Mamadi’s costume over the course of the film highlight the problems with the emperor’s government. He starts out in the garb of a soldier, which indicates his susceptibility to being controlled by others (particularly by his uncle Wakhane). All of the soldiers in the film are portrayed as mindless automatons doing the bidding of the people in power, even when it involves brutalizing the townspeople. Wakhane fills Mamadi with his own political ambitions until the latter becomes the new emperor and dons Kaya Maghan’s robes. In case the symbolism of this was not clear enough, Mamadi kills Wakhane for disagreeing with him and perpetuates the cycle of totalitarian regimes. Although Wakhane had earlier told Mamadi that they would be “reinventing the world” by overthrowing the emperor, they have merely upheld the status quo.

Sia’s costume transformations throughout the film are also highly significant. She starts out dressed like the other women at the river and is largely indistinguishable from the rest. When she is singled out to be sacrificed, her separation from the community begins. This is symbolized by her presence at Kerfa’s house on the outskirts of the village. The strikingly white dress and scarf she wears as a part of the sacrifice ritual are a visual representation of her distance from the community (they also symbolize her virginity). After the rape she tells Mamadi that she feels “soiled.” Her costume, which is torn and muddied, is a physical representation of this. As a part of Wakhane’s attempt to legitimize Mamadi’s rule and downplay the trauma that Sia has undergone, she is dressed as a queen and paraded before the people. However, she quickly realizes what the men are trying to do to her and (more importantly) to the truth and she strips off the costume. Now mostly naked, she leaves the palace and the community behind and becomes mad like Kerfa, wandering the streets of a modern-day city in a cape and shouting her wisdom to the passing cars. The lesson: After all these years people are still blinded by falsehoods and no one heeds the lone voice of truth.