Society is made up of a range of people. In some the people are said to be in “classes” – poor and working class; rich and leisured; they live in the countryside or cities and urban conglomerates; they work in farms or in factories. In a work of fiction, the writer draws from this range of people. The characters, that is, the personages of the action in the story, like the crop trees of a rich forest, must be built, constructed, made rich, richer, than ordinary mundane life-living people in everyday society.
Stephen King says “…the job (that is of building the character) boils down to two things; paying attention to how real people around you behave and then telling the truth about what you see. You may notice that your next-door neighbour picks his nose when he thinks no one is looking. This is a great detail, but noting it does you no good as a writer unless you’re willing to dump it into a story at some point” (King.189).
Let us take one illustration. Aubrey Kachingwe of Malawi (born 1926) has written a novel, No Easy Task.
“Briefly, the novel tells the story of Jo Jozeni, son of a village pastor. Jo is offered a job on a newspaper in Kawacha, the capital of a British colony in Central Africa. Although his roots are in the country, Jo gradually takes to life in the city; and through his colleagues becomes involved in politics, though always remaining a little outside the ‘inner circles’ suddenly his attitude changes: at a political rally… it is his own gentle, retiring father who emerges as a hard, and determined political fighter. Jo is faced with a difficult choice: should he identify himself
with his father? Or take the line of least resistance, marry his girl, and settle down? Or look for something else out of life?”
I have quoted the blurb on the Heinemann African Writers Series, editorially advised by Chinua Achebe, word for word. That gives you the setting. That gives you the environment. To see how Jo Jozeni’s character is built up and merged into the circumstances in which he must make his choice, let us look at the very opening of the novel:
“I’m sorry, man. We can’t take any more passengers in the bus. It’s full”, the conductor said. He started to close the door.
“Can’t you squeeze me in, please?” I pleaded. “I have only this small suitcase. That’s all”.
“I can’t take any more”, he said firmly.” The traffic patrolmen are very strict these days. You want me to lose my job?”
He rang the bell.
“This is the last country bus for today, and I have been standing here waiting for it in this hot sun for over one hour”, I said, half to myself, “surely, you can’t leave me?”
I dropped my suitcase and clung to the rails of the door of the bus. The conductor pushed me off and I almost fell under the wheels as it started to move. My suitcase was run over but I was luckier.
I stood up, dusted myself, and looked at the suitcase. It had been flattened out of shape, and was gaping half open. A little dust had got inside.
It made me bitter to think that I would have to walk three miles back to the school at Makwasa, and possibly spend the night alone in an empty classroom. The place was empty now because the school was closed. I had just been there to see the principal about getting me scholarship to England, but he had promised nothing. Now I was returning to my father at Bangwe, a little mission station thirty miles farther in the interior.
I did not like to go back to that school even for a night. The principal would probably tell me to go away. Reverend John Webb and I never got on well, although he was the missionary in charge of all this area,
including Bangwe where my father was the parish priest, and had thus known my parents years. Lately he had been my principal. Perhaps we knew each other too well.
Suddenly, I heard a car hoot. Shaken, I jumped off the road. The car pulled up, and the two men inside it laughed heartily.
I recognized the one driving. “I am very sorry for blocking the road, Mr Dube”, I said apologetically.
“One should expect that sort of behaviour on a country road”, he said without anger. “But you are educated, Jo, and ought to know how to conduct yourself on a highway.”
“I am sorry, Sir, I repeated.
“That’s all right. Jo. Only don’t do it again,” he said.
“Now, why are you here?”
“I am going to Bangwe – I was going – but the bus has left me behind,” I said. “There was no room”
“I am going there; can I give you a lift?”
“If you can, Sir, most grateful”.
“Take your bag and come in,” he said. He turned to his friend. This is Jo, the son of the Reverend Josiah Jozeni.”
“And this gentleman. Jo” he said to me, “is Mr. Zake Lukani, a great friend of mine. We are both going to see the old man. Make yourself comfortable”
I shook hands with Mr. Zake Lukani as the car started to move…
Dan Dube was the first African to be a municipal councillor on the white-only Kawacha Town Council… an outstanding businessman and clever politician… tall and broad, at forty-five … respectably handsome… I never understood how the mysterious Dan Dube and my father were such good friends… my father was over sixty, and, because of poverty and hard work, looked much older than his age… laughed seldom, and outside his clerical work… had no ambitions. Yet the two were good friends.
(Kachingwe: No Easy Task. 1966.1-3).
In this tightly-knit, economical writing, you can see how the characters of Jo Jozeni, Dan Dube, Reverend Josiah Jozeni, Mr. Lukani, and even
Reverend Webb have, with deft touches, been made to stand as the trees in this forest of a story!
The rest of the novel develops details that tell the reader of poverty, ambitions, politics, beliefs, views and conditions that move society.
SELF ASSESSMENT EXERCISE 1
1. Point out how you see character build-up here.
2. What “traits”, from the bus conductor to Dan Dube’s offer of a lift to Jo, tell you that Jo will have “no easy task”?
3. Use a Dictionary to see how many meanings “trait” has.