There is a group of people who once lived in communities along the Dakar – Bamako rail line on the River Niger. Men, women, and children. They are some of the bravest people I have ever come across because of the way that they stood up to oppressive authority against all odds. They were able to be united in their common goal to be treated fairly as human beings. I learned to feel their pain, endure their hardships, and rejoice in their triumphs. Even though they are merely characters in a book, I have brought them to life many times in my mind. 

It recently occurred to me that it is possible that people could have a love/hate relationship with the books that they are introduced to in an academic setting. On the one hand, you could love a book so much that you read it multiple times without the academic pressure and it becomes your favorite book. On the other hand, you could dislike the book with such vehement passion that the mere mention of its title could make your skin crawl. I have always enjoyed the fact that the I was introduced to Ousmane Sembène’s Les Bouts de Bois de Dieu (God’s Bits of Wood) in a classroom setting. Even with the number of books that have kept me company in the years since I read it, the book, the story, and the characters still have a special place in my heart. 

The first time I encountered this epic novel was when it was an assigned read for a Literature English class that I was taking in secondary school, and we had to read the version that had been translated into English. Then, in what can probably be described as a serendipitous alignment of stars, it was also the assigned read for my French West African Literature class where we had to read it in French. I was immensely delighted to read the book twice in two different languages.

Even though they are merely characters in a book, I have brought them to life many times in my mind.

On the surface, it could appear to be a story that had been told before. The racism that Black Africans had to endure during colonialism has appeared in countless books, but few writers tackle the issues in a story as deep, visceral, and humanizing as this. The book is based on the true story of a strike organized by rail workers in the 1940s, ostensibly demanding better pay and working conditions at a time when the region was under French colonial rule, and the railroads were run by the French authorities. Underneath the layer of this seemingly ordinary demand is the rail workers’ desire to be treated with basic human decency. The tireless struggle for one’s humanity to be recognized and honored is what lies at the core of the story. 

As a storyteller, Ousmane Sembène is probably as famous for his cinematography as he is for the books he wrote. In his lifetime he published ten books and directed 12 movies, an admirable accomplishment for someone who came from humble beginnings. He did not have much by way of a formal education and took charge of his own learning, moving from his family’s hometown in Casamance to Dakar, which was and still is the capital of his native Senegal. By the time the Second World War broke out, Sembène moved to France to fight with the French army. He continued to live there after the war ended and his experience as a dockworker formed the basis for his first novel, Le Docker Noir, which also chronicles his struggles as a Black writer trying to get his work published. 

Les Bouts de Bois de Dieu was published in 1960 when he returned to Senegal after spending ten years living in Europe; it also coincided with the end of colonial rule as his country, like many in the region, was transitioning into independent rule. It was at that time that Sembène also realized that if he wanted to continue to tell stories, he would have to combine his written words with the oral storytelling technique that was common among most of the communities on the African continent. The best way he could do that and cast a wide net would be through film. From 1962 to 1976, he published four books and directed eight movies, cementing his reputation as one of the most prolific narrators of the African experience. 

As Sembène writes, “and the men began to understand that if the times were bringing forth a new breed of men, they were also bringing forth a new breed of women.”

If he was alive today, Sembène would have been approaching his 101st year on earth. At the beginning of the year, I decided to re-read Les Bouts de Bois de Dieu again in French and English, just the way I had when I first met the characters – Ramatoulaye, Mame Sofi, Penda, N’Deye Touti, Niakoro as they made life happen in their communities on the stops along railway line: Thiès, Bamako, Dakar. I have to admit, each time I read the story, I am always full of admiration at the way the women are portrayed, not as docile and passive observers, who are waiting for orders to follow but rather active participants in the strike effort, mobilizing themselves in the face of hunger, pain and even death. Even though it is the men in their lives that are the rail workers, the women stand solidly behind them not once budging, united in their solidarity to be seen and acknowledged as human beings. As Sembène writes, “and the men began to understand that if the times were bringing forth a new breed of men, they were also bringing forth a new breed of women.” 

I have read the book many times over the years, at different stages in my life as I refracted it through the lens of what was going on around me. This year, as I read I tried to imagine what a 100-year-old Ousmane Sembène would make of a world where a hierarchy is still being placed on human lives and all the complications, despair and angst that accompany this unfortunate flaw in humanity. I am reminded that the first thing that drew me to the book was its fascinating title. It comes from the Wolof tradition, where rather than count human beings and offend the gods, you refer to them as god’s bits of wood. We have a similar sentiment among the Yoruba people, and I think it might be a cultural trend that is replicated among many other communities along the West African coast, this idea that once you put a number on something its value diminishes. There are so many of us on this planet, this wonderful world we would live in; if we took the time to recognize, respect, and honor our shared humanity, we would realize that we are all tiny pieces of wood designed for good.