Véronique Tadjo

Véronique Tadjo is a Franco-Ivorian writer, poet, and artist whose work explores themes of identity, culture, and displacement. Her work has been translated into over 20 languages. Her most notable novels include Assiba (1990), A Vol d'Oiseau (1995), and Reine Pokou (2002). She has also written poetry, short stories, children's books, and essays. Tadjo is also a talented artist. Her paintings and drawings have been exhibited in galleries and museums around the world. Her artwork is often inspired by African culture and mythology.

Writing was an integral part of my life, but I never envisioned it as a career. I would write sporadically, leaving pieces of paper scattered everywhere. My first collection of poems actually came about by compiling these random fragments of writing, and as I looked at them together, I realized there was something there. A pivotal moment for my writing was an incredible journey I took from Paris to Abidjan, traversing the Sahara desert. While it was feasible at the time, I wouldn't recommend it today. By the time I reached the northern region of Ivory Coast, I was overwhelmed with a surge of inspiration.

Africa and its people boast a rich heritage of oral traditions, a wellspring that profoundly influences my work. I naturally gravitate away from linear narratives, preferring to explore diverse perspectives and experiences. This reflects my perception of the world, which I see in fragments and snapshots. Oral literature plays a crucial role in facilitating this approach. The very nature of oral tradition offers writers unparalleled freedom. It allows for the seamless integration of poetry, music, history, and political discourse, fostering a continuous dialogue with the audience. Unlike traditional forms of literature, oral tradition is inherently communal, transcending individual ownership.

Navigating the world as an African woman writer demands unwavering resilience. I've come to realize that each book presents a unique set of challenges. Complacency is a luxury I can't afford, especially when I strive to experiment and avoid creative stagnation. This constant pursuit of new literary avenues adds to the inherent challenges of writing. Balancing my writing life with my various roles as a mother, wife, academic, and more, creates a constant internal dialogue about priorities. While I cherish my identity as an artist and writer, I recognize that life extends beyond these pursuits. Ultimately, it's the people around me, my loved ones, who truly matter. Sometimes, making compromises is inevitable.

Crafting the right form for a story can be a constant challenge. Each narrative requires a unique structure to effectively convey its essence. I chose oral tradition as my medium because the stories I want to tell are often deeply traumatic, dark, and harrowing. Yet, amidst these trials, I also want to showcase the inherent beauty of African culture and artistry. By setting these narratives within the African context, I aim to capture both the harsh realities and the enduring resilience of the African spirit. For instance, in my current novel-in-progress, I'm still grappling with finding the most suitable form for the story. Without a clear structure, it becomes difficult to effectively communicate the narrative's essence.

In my early literary explorations, I was heavily influenced by the works of Négritude movement writers and Black American writers. Regardless of my location, I immersed myself in the local literature, absorbing the unique styles and perspectives of each region. Ama Ata Aidoo's writing, in particular, left a lasting impression on my own literary approach.

My literary journey began with poetry. I found myself naturally crafting poems, and soon pieces of paper filled with my verses were scattered everywhere. As I reviewed these pieces, I realized that there was a common thread running through them. Fables have always captivated me, and they have permeated every culture and storytelling tradition since ancient times. Some people have questioned why I make trees talk or give voices to viruses and bats. However, in oral traditions, this is not an unusual practice. It has been a prevalent storytelling technique across cultures, and I appreciate its resonance because it suggests a universal understanding of the underlying message.

Indeed, it is not only acceptable but also quite rewarding to have one's work adapted to another form. My first poetry collection was transformed into a theatrical production, which was initially a bit startling. After all, you have created this intricate world within your mind, and then someone else comes along and introduces their unique interpretation. However, I embrace this process wholeheartedly because it signifies that someone has resonated with the underlying message conveyed in the poems and is now offering a fresh perspective. I am open to and enthusiastic about such adaptations.

African literature is a vast and ever-evolving landscape. African writers are now gaining global recognition, though it remains challenging for emerging writers to secure publication. Africa is a continent abuzz with stories, and there is a growing awareness that many voices have remained unheard due to the traditional requirement of international publication to gain recognition. This shift towards a more accessible and inclusive literary scene is a remarkable step forward, enriching the tapestry of African storytelling. I hope this trend continues to flourish, further amplifying the voices of African writers and the stories they have to share.