With Child of Congo, Laurène Southe establishes herself as a fearless poet, unafraid to confront difficult truths.
By Evidence Egwuono Adjarho
The notion of art for art’s sake is often absent in African literature. This is evident when we consider the complex historical trajectory of African societies across different eras— pre-colonial, colonial & post-colonial— all of which have continued to influence the experiences of Africans. African writers in response have embraced the role of social critics, using literature to challenge injustices, celebrate cultural heritage, and interrogate identity.
Laurène Southe appears to embrace this perspective in her debut chapbook, Child of Congo. Though set against the backdrop of the Democratic Republic of Congo, the themes explored in the collection extend beyond geographical borders.
At its core, Child of Congo is an anthology of poems that navigate various themes, many of which are deeply ingrained in the African consciousness. The book is divided into 6 sections, with each unified by a central theme while also containing sub-themes within individual poems.
The first section of the book is arguably the most radical. The persona in these poems knows what they want to communicate and they do just that unwaveringly. The opening poem, “Child of Congo”, which also serves as the chapbook’s title, immediately sets the tone for what follows.
It addresses the theme of identity, a prevalent subject of discourse in African literature. Readers are presented with a familiar conflict– one of displacement and the struggle to define home. This dilemma is encapsulated in these lines of the poem:
But, where are you really from?
From the place you were born or the place you belong?
This theme continues in poems like “Kongo”, “Alfonso I” and “Tippu Tip” where the poet references Congo’s history, particularly the origins of the transatlantic slave trade and its devastating impact on African identity.
These poems are apostrophic in nature, addressing historical events and symbols as if in direct conversation. Southe highlights how identity loss is not merely a historical issue but a continuum in reality. This is seen in “Cause & Effect”, where the persona critiques modern capitalism as a system that perpetuates the same exploitation that once fueled slavery.
Laurène Southe also explores the deep-rooted consequences of colonial interference on African identity. “Cast from the Motherland” reminisces about the joys in the mundane of African living before colonialism, also echoed in poems like Gabriel Okara’s “Piano & Drums”.
As the chapbook progresses, there is a noticeable shift in thematic preoccupation. The second section examines complexion, probing the ways in which Blackness is perceived. Here, Southe challenges racist ideologies that equate dark skin with inferiority. The poet urges an introspective reevaluation of Black identity, reminding readers that they are more than just their skin. She drops a powerful message in these lines:
I am not my complexion but I am proud of it
I can not change my complexion, but I could die from it.
One of the most compelling things about Child of Congo is its relatability. While some poems are exclusive to the history and experiences of a specific region, others tackle universal themes of humanity.
Several poems explore personal connections, particularly the persona’s relationship with their mother. Others grapple with existential questions that arise during life’s hardships. “Blame God”, for instance, delves into the human tendency to deflect responsibility, attributing misfortune to supernatural forces or phenomenons rather than personal actions.
Another recurring theme is the fleeting nature of time. Laurène Southe does not approach this subject with pessimism but rather with a sense of resilience and hope. She suggests that while the past holds pain and injustice, the future still holds possibilities for change, healing and redemption.
A commendable aspect of Child of Congo is its use of language. From the first poem to the last, the poet draws readers into a vivid and immersive world. Her use of indigenous language adds an authenticity that English alone cannot convey.
This linguistic layering enriches the book, offering a deeper connection to African cultural identity. Such that even when readers do not immediately understand certain words or phrases, the rhythm, and context make the meaning clear. This blend of languages asserts not only cultural pride but also challenges the dominance of Western literary conventions.
With Child of Congo, Laurène establishes herself as a fearless poet, unafraid to confront difficult truths. Southe uses her poetry to shed light on Congo’s history while also addressing global issues such as race and identity. She does not merely recount history; she interrogates it.
However, this book does not condemn. Instead, it takes on the role of a literary mirror, reflecting society’s flaws while also expressing hope for change.
More than just an anthology of poems, Child of Congo is a profound and necessary work. It serves as a voice for the marginalized, a retelling of history, and a call to action. Southe’s poems are both poetic and thought-provoking: it challenges, it resonates, and proves that literature, especially African literature, must serve a purpose.
Evidence Egwuono is a passionate literature enthusiast who spends her time lending her voice through her reviews. She is also a media enthusiast as she believes in the potency of visual storytelling, especially in amplifying the voices of women in society. Find her creating content on Instagram @evidence_egwuono and on LinkedIn.