Professor Mukoma wa Ngugi, son of the iconic Kenyan writer Ngugi wa Thiong’o, has opened up about the deep and painful rift that existed between him and his father before the latter’s death on May 28, 2025. The legendary author, celebrated worldwide for his powerful advocacy of African languages and his critique of colonialism, left behind a complex legacy—both in literature and in his personal life.
While the literary world mourned the passing of a giant whose works like Decolonising the Mind and Weep Not, Child transformed African literature, Mukoma revealed a more personal and less public side of their relationship. For years, there had been distance and unresolved tension between father and son, culminating in a public falling out in March 2024.
Mukoma spoke candidly about the strain in their relationship, which was largely caused by a painful family secret. He accused Ngugi of physically abusing his mother, Nyambura wa Ngugi, a revelation that shattered the family’s fragile bond and led to silence between Mukoma and his father. This abuse allegation marked a turning point that severed communication and deepened the estrangement.
The emotional toll was made even heavier by Mukoma learning of his father’s worsening health only through a phone call from his brother, rather than directly or sooner. He expressed the harsh reality that, without that call, he might have found out about Ngugi’s death via social media—a stark illustration of how fractured their relationship had become.
The family’s difficulties did not end there. Mukoma was also unaware of Ngugi’s cremation until it became a subject of controversy within the family. It later emerged that the cremation had been Ngugi’s own wish, but the decision had sparked heated disagreements among relatives, highlighting lingering tensions even after his passing.
Despite the bitterness and pain, Mukoma remains firm in his decision to speak openly about the family struggles, stating that his conscience is clear. He credited his father with instilling in him a deep respect for honesty, even when truth can lead to difficult confrontations and divides.
Mukoma’s reflections revealed the complexity of his emotions. Though their relationship had been fraught with conflict and silence, his words were not without love. “I just love him. He’s my father,” he said, expressing the complicated nature of their bond—a mixture of love, hurt, and regret.
One of Mukoma’s greatest sorrows is the lost chance to reconcile and spend more time with his father before his death. This regret underscores the human side of the story, reminding many of the universal pain that can come with fractured family ties.
This public airing of private family issues has resonated deeply with many Kenyans, who are familiar with the sometimes tense and strained relationship between the two men, both influential figures in their own right. Mukoma’s honesty has sparked conversations about the challenges of family loyalty, truth, and the personal costs behind public legacies.
In the end, the story of Ngugi wa Thiong’o and his son is a poignant reminder that behind the stature of even the greatest cultural icons lie human relationships that can be as complex and difficult as any other. Mukoma’s willingness to break the silence sheds light on those complexities, offering a rare glimpse into the personal struggles that accompanied a towering literary legacy.
