The great currents in history and society may often be experienced through the simple things of life. Someone singing a song, greeting a friend, or preparing a meal. Such things may tell us a great deal about a broader culture and patterns of thought. It was like this that I first came to understand the African way of thinking. I should say, more specifically, the Xhosa way of thinking – where the Xhosa people belong to the broader Nguni group of Southern Africa.

I married into Africa. That is, my wife is a member of a Xhosa clan – in fact, a descendant of the great King Mpondo. Year by year, therefore, I visit the clan. The first time that I visited, we travelled to Ester’s childhood home, to meet her parents. After a long journey by car, we reached a desolate plateau. We drove through a farmyard and pulled to a halt. A wiry, bearded man came down a hillside. Ester kissed him on the lips. He briefly took my hand, then dropped it. He didn’t speak to me. He didn’t look at me.

I married into Africa. That is, my wife is a member of a Xhosa clan. 

Ester wiped away tears. She said, ‘Where are the potatoes?’ The man said, ‘There are two sacks of potatoes in the shed. But one of them is rotten.’ They exchanged a few more words about potatoes, then the man walked back up the hillside.

‘Who was that?’ I asked. ‘It was my father,’ said Ester. Her father? Why didn’t he speak to me? Why didn’t he look at me? And what happened to a daughter’s customary endearments? ‘Good to see you, Dad. Love you, Dad.’ The talk was entirely about potatoes.

This event stands out for me in my growing relationship with African culture. It epitomises one of the fundamental characteristics of Africa. At first it distressed me, then gradually began to open up a new world for me. It was the problem – a problem to me, as one of European stock – of a lack of verbal articulation. This applies very much to African philosophy, too. At least, it is ‘most controversial’ as to whether African philosophy is, or is not, articulate.¹

There are two ways in which those of European origin are taught to articulate.

On the one hand, we have been taught to articulate our thoughts. In fact, it is more or less expected of all of us to be able to express ourselves on a fairly abstract level. Not so in the African culture I have come to know. The poet, politician, and cultural theorist Léopold S. Senghor said, ‘White reason is analytic through utilisation; [Black] is intuitive through participation.’²

This applies not only to reason, but also to emotion. Psychology professor Maurice J. Elias defines emotional literacy as a means to ‘detect and express’ emotions.³ More specifically, a means through which one may ‘properly label’ them. While, in Africa, detection and expression of emotions happens all the time, labelling of them may …

Read the full article which is published on Daily Philosophy (external link)