Tracing the Color Line: Imperial Racism in Meja Mwangi’s the Mzungu Boy

Tracing the Color Line: Imperial Racism in Meja Mwangi’s the Mzungu Boy

*Yassine OUALLA¹, Dr. Farida MOKHTARI²

¹PhD Student, Sultan Moulay Slimane University, Beni Mellal, Morocco

²Full Professor, Sidi Mohamed Ben Abdellah University, Fes, Morocco

*Corresponding author

DOI: https://dx.doi.org/10.47772/IJRISS.2025.908000140

Received: 23 July 2025; Accepted: 29 July 2025; Published: 01 September 2025

ABSTRACT

White supremacist ideologies define human interactions in reference to the dynamics of racial Manicheism. The latter underlies an existential hierarchy that categorizes human beings in consideration of their races. This race-based classification not only fragments the world into separate polarities but also begets a socio-cultural condition that promotes white superiority and black inferiority. This racialized binarism establishes the representational structure of Meja Mwangi’s The Mzungu Boy. The latter investigates self-other dualism in the colonial African experience, a radicalized experience which is marked by symbolic dehumanization and physical brutalization. Grounded on postcolonial theory, the paper delves into racially asymmetrical dichotomies that frame African-Western dialogues in the aforementioned fictional narrative, unveiling the various forms of discrimination endured by African communities during the colonial enterprise. Differently put, it investigates the manifestations of racial Otherness in the colonial setting, a setting that advocates African unrefinement, Western refinement, and race-driven segregation that thrives on stereotypical racism.

Keywords: Race‘ism’, Otherness, Primitivism, Binarism, Segregation.

INTRODUCTION

‘Neo’colonialism generates a hierarchical reality that ranks human beings in reference to the violent dynamics of race. This racialized state of being induces race-driven discursive practices that eradicate cultural diversity, constructing human existence on the basis of asymmetrical polarities. These Eurocentric discourses enable the white Self to configure its surrounding world, approaching other external entities, including the black Other, as marginal beings. Such a peripherized Other manifests as an objectively present subject, a subjugated being lacking self-referentiality, a fragmented ego within a Manichean setting. This dominant-subordinate racial structure underlies the representational framework of Meja Mwangi’s The Mzungu Boy. The latter uncovers the suffering of Kenyan people in a settlement ruled by a British tyrant named Bwana Ruin, investigating colonial practices that ‘re’configure the African experience. Said otherwise, it delves into the politics of racial Manicheism in the colonial condition, a condition promoting a social hierarchy which is immersed in white supremacism and black inferiorism. This essentialist binarism springs from the mechanics of race‘ism’. The latter emerges as an ideology that destabilizes the existential identity of the Other, placing him in a polarized actuality which is deeply rooted in segregation, marginalization and alienation. Stuart Hall (2017) defines race as follows:

Race is a cultural and historical, not biological, fact – that race is a discursive construct, a sliding signifier … . Race, in this sense, is the centerpiece of a hierarchical system that produces differences. (Hall, p. 33)

Race ‘ism’, therefore, can be defined as a culturally constructed system of identification that flourishes on difference, an exclusionary system that divides human beings into two binary extremes, the Self and the Other. It is “an ideology of control through divide and rule, obscurantism, weakening of resistance through a weakening of a sense of who we are” (Ngũgĩ, 1992, p. 95).   Such a segregatory policy alienates black people, reconfiguring their spatiotemporal actualities in the light of racism. In other words, it sparks an ontological disagreement between the Self and the Other, engaging the two poles in an asymmetrical encounter. This hegemonic dialogue allows white people to assert their supremacy, manipulating black people symbolically and non-symbolically. Race ‘ism’, accordingly, develops “a social pyramid with the people divided on racial lines and occupying different zones” (Ngũgĩ, 1992, p. 108). This race-driven hierarchy reveals the sophistication of the white Self and the unsophistication of the black Other. Stuart Hall (1997) postulates:

There are the rich distinctions which cluster around the supposed link, on the one hand, between the white races and intellectual development – refinement, learning and knowledge, …, all of which are associated with Culture; and on the other hand, the link between the black races and whatever is instinctual – the open expression of emotion and feeling rather than intellect, a lack of civilized refinement in sexual and social life, …, all of which are linked to Nature. (Hall, 1997, p. 243)

This ideologically constructed system of identification differentiates between human races, specifically between white people and black people, in consideration of their developmental state of being, or rather their stages of civilization and barbarism. It, said otherwise, associates blackness with primitiveness, barbarism and filthiness, positioning it at the base of the developmental ladder. This inferior human being sustains a peripheral existence, a dehumanized mode of living which is imposed by a superior whiteness. The latter renders the black Other an objectively present subject residing in the realm of objectified organisms. This objectified subject manifests as neither a human being nor an animalistic entity. He, instead, emerges as a hybrid being, a creature submerging in stigmatized blackness that retains non-human attributes and features. Du Bois (2007) clarifies:

Somewhere between men and cattle, God created a tertium quid, and called it a Negro, – a clownish, simple creature, at times even lovable within its limitations, but straitly foreordained to walk within the Veil. (Du Bois, 2007, p. 63)

This undetermined being, fluctuating between humanism and animalism, endures not only symbolic denigration but also physical alienation. He experiences various forms of marginalization, encountering the systemic oppression of apartheid. The latter creates an unbreakable barrier between black people and white people, a ‘non’physical boundary that separates their worlds. It enforces the two extremes to sustain a completely isolated reality, a segregated reality where “the best of the whites and the best of the Negroes almost never live in anything like close proximity” (De Bois, 2007, 166).  This spatiotemporal, or rather socio-cultural and geopolitical, rupture provokes such feelings as hostility, resentment and fear within the internal ‘un’consciousness of the two entities. These emotional states, which make “both whites and blacks see commonly the worst of each other” (166-167), fabricate a social reality that is grounded on radical segregation. The latter, which places the white Self and the black Other in two separate, antithetical realms, shapes not only their physical actuality but also their psychological reality. The white Self and the black Other, hence, sustain detached modes of existence, having distinct identities, cultures and lifestyles. In other words, they uphold separate psychophysical modes of existence, different forms of being where “there is almost no community of intellectual life or point of transference where the thoughts and feelings of one race can come into direct contact and sympathy with the thoughts and feelings of the other” (Du Bois, 2007, p. 183).  These two antithetical races, simply put, are destined to be separated from one another, maintaining contrasting identities, be they cultural, social, political, physical, or psychological. Said otherwise, they are “bound and barred by the color-line” (Du Bois, 2007, p. 184).

METHODOLOGY

The paper investigates the politics of Otherness in Meja Mwangi’s The Mzungu Boy, adopting a qualitative research methodology which is deeply rooted in postcolonial theory. It provides a textual and discursive analysis of the aforementioned fictional narrative, a critical analysis that scrutinizes the representational construction of black otherness. The study, in brief, not only analyses but also interprets the written material in reference to a critical framework which revolves around postcolonial and race theory. It ultimately aims to enquire into the dynamics of postcolonial discourses that engage in a representational contest with ethnocentric metanarratives that construct the African as the Other.

ANALYSIS AND DISCUSSION

White supremacy

The Mzungu Boy enquires into the terrible circumstances of Kenya under British colonial rule. Said otherwise, it explores the dreadful lives of indigenous people under colonialism, subjugated individuals who are enslaved by British colonizers. These foreign invaders wield authority, asserting their symbolic and non-symbolic supremacy. Such white superiority establishes the representational groundwork of Meja Mwangi’s fictional work. The latter delves into a colonial condition in which white settlers assume ultimate control over the village and its residents. These ruling masters retain first-hand knowledge, expertise, science and weapons, unlike the native inhabitants who lack intellectual and technical refinement. These primitive people live under the control of Bwana Ruin, an authoritarian white man who reigns over the entire village, including its people, forest, and river. Kariuki, the narrator and a village boy, states, “This farm belongs to Bwana Ruin… . Everything belongs to Bwana Ruin” (Mwangi, 2005, p. 31). The latter owns not only the farm but also its surrounding lands, lands that are identified by British influence. British authorities introduce sophisticated technologies and inventions to local villages on the pretense of the civilizing mission. Kariuki, in his first encounter with Nigel, reveals that all the objects and tools that the residents of the village use in their daily lives are made in England; he clarifies:

Everything we used was made in England. From the pencils and rubbers we used in school to the hoes we used in the gardens. They are all made in England. (p. 32)

Colonial powers leave their lasting prints and trademarks in every Kenyan village. They bring not only deadly weapons but also beneficial technologies that supposedly enlighten the native inhabitants of the jungle and help them eliminate their state of primitiveness. Due to the unfamiliarity of the British inventions, villagers look at the white man with admiration. The latter seems to be an extraordinary human subject, a godly man who represents the ultimate stage of human development.

White people are in a position of authority, retaining a sophisticated life that is marked by an abundance of food and money. These affluent foreigners show empathy towards the miserable villagers, offering them donations.  Village children daily receive donations from Bwana Ruin’s house. Kariuki, when on a tree to retrieve the hook of Nigel’s fishing cane, notices some of them taking food from Bwana’s house. These begging children look extremely hungry, eagerly waiting for their share of skimmed milk. He says:

Outside the dairy, past Bwana Ruin’s house, a line of children waited to receive their daily ration of skimmed milk. Far out on the plains was the airstrip, the black and white wind sock moving lazily in the wind. (p. 30)

These starving children seem happy to get milk from the white man, a generous man who is meant to help people in need. These poor people always beg him for assistance, assistance that costs them their lives.  The villagers and their children are compelled to express their servitude to the white master to receive compensation, in the form of milk or money.

The indigenous people believe in the supremacy of white people, refined people who not only have an abundance of money and food but also sustain a lavish mode of living. Nigel, for instance, is a British boy who upholds a luxurious lifestyle. He travels from England to Kenya on a plane, as he himself tells his friend, “I came in an airplane” (p. 32). Kariuki recognizes the extravagant way of life of white people, privileged people who are granted supernatural powers and superhuman abilities. He states:

I would not have been at all surprised if he had an aeroplane. To many of us village children, white people were strange creatures were allowed many impossibilities. (p. 32)

These possibilities, including owning cars and planes, are inaccessible to Kenyan people; the latter sustain a primitive mode of life, struggling to have access to food and water. In contrast, white people can afford to buy cars, ships and even planes, maintaining a luxurious mode of life. Kariuki states, “Many white farmers in Laikpia owned private planes and private airstrips” (p. 33). This comfortable life, which is immersed in wealth and elegance, impresses indigenous people, starving people who need the fundamental requirements of life.

These refined white people intimidate local villagers, controlling their actions and limiting their freedom. Bwana Ruin, the owner of the farm, is an authoritarian man who exudes terror and fear. He punishes every single inhabitant in the village for trivial mistakes. He is also famous for his physical strength and supernatural prowess, a mystical ability that allows him to read the minds of people, as most villagers believe. Kariuki himself unveils his extraordinary ability when he meets him on his way back home from the forest. The white man warns him not to go fishing again. Kariuki hesitates to tell the truth or lie, indicating:

They said they could see into people’s heads and tell what they were thinking. He was truly a formidable man.  (p. 40)

Kariuki is overwhelmed by the presence of Bwana Ruin. The latter is a fearsome man, an unusual person “who can see in the dark” (p. 66). This alleged magical power renders him a gold-like human being, an intimidating white man who provokes fear and terror wherever he goes. Bwana Ruin eventually proves to be a decent human being in reality. His grandson, Nigel, reveals the secret of his grandfather and tells his friend Kariuki, “He cannot. No one can do that. … He is like other people. He can only see with his eyes” (p. 67). He is a normal person who retains the same physical and psychological characteristics as every other person in the village. Nevertheless, his white complexion and military position transform him into a frightening tyrant who intimidates all villagers, reigning over the whole farm by power and violence.

Bwana Ruin enjoys brutalizing all beings on his farm, including animals. He frequently goes hunting in the plains, accompanying his grandson, Nigel. He finds pleasure in killing animals, not to eat them but to feed them to their dogs.  He shows his supreme character even during his journey in the wilderness. He handles hunting effortlessly, shooting wandering animals from his car. Nigel feels bored at the hunting trip as it lacks excitement, unlike the adventures he and Kariuki embark on in the forest. The narrator states:

Sometimes his grandfather took him into the plains in the roofless Land Rover to where the game was plentiful. There was no running, not even walking. They drove up, stopped the vehicle and, while the animals watched and wondered, Bwana Ruin stood on the seat and shot them dead. Then he loaded on the vehicles and brought them back for his dogs. (p. 81)

Bwana Ruin is a talented hunter who excels at not only subjugating people but also hunting animals. He easily renders them dead with one shot, remaining completely calm during the hunting expedition. These refined hunting skills represent his talent, cultivation, and supremacy, being a superior white man who exercises his authority over both humans and animals.

The residents of the village, in this regard, shake in fear at the presence of Bwana Ruin, a man who seizes every opportunity to punish them. He accuses them of every crime in the village. Once, he launches an investigation about the forest men’s visits to the village, aiming to identify the traitors. He imprisons all the villagers inside a cattle enclosure for torture, as he usually does. During the investigation, he urges them to cooperate with him for he is an honorable man and the true owner of the farm. He states:

This is my land, bought from the Crown and paid for with my own money. If the mau-mau tell you that they will take it from me and give it to you or to anyone else, they are telling you a load of manure. (p. 99)

He insists not only on his rightful possession of the land but also on his morality and compassion.  He manifests as a righteous man who dedicates his life to the public welfare of the entire village, a virtuous person who aims to enlighten the uncultivated local people. This civilizing saint is meant to annihilate the primitive traditions of the villagers, introducing them to a more refined lifestyle in a land that belongs to him. He tells them:

I have given you a place to live in. I shall demolish your old hovels and build you new ones. I give you a pound of posho and all the skimmed milk you can drink. (p. 99)

Bwana Ruin grants the residents of the village good standards of living, offering them food, shelter and money. He, in return, enslaves them, exposing them to physical and non-physical violence. These subjugated people are compelled to perform unpaid labour in the white man’s farms, work that deprives them of their liberties. This dehumanizing servitude guarantees their survival, safety and wellbeing, as the narrator states:

As long as they worked very well, the watu and their wives and totos would be free to live and work for him. They would be treated well and they would always get their wages. That was a guarantee from Bwana Ruin. (p. 101)

Bwana Ruin, in brief, reigns over the entire village, manipulating all residents. The latter seem to be forced to live in his servitude, lacking the freedom to control their lives. They need to work for Bwana Ruin in order to earn their living, protect their children, and safeguard their lives. These enslaved villagers are destined to serve white people, superior masters destabilizing the psychological and physical structures of black people.

Bwana Ruin’s grandson, Nigel, is a cultured child who retains significant expertise, a literate boy who has a deep understanding of Kenyan people and culture. His sound knowledge perplexes Kariuki, who is an ignorant little child. In a conversation between the two friends about the means of transportation that Nigel uses to come to Kenya, Kariuki expresses surprise not only at the fact that Nigel travels by plane but also at his visit to Nairobi. He, an indigenous boy, has limited knowledge about the capital, unlike Nigel who visits its airport many times. The narrator states:

I knew Nairobi from books in school, but was the first time I had met someone who had been there. I felt foolish and ignorant in front of this white boy. (p. 33)

Nigel is a cultivated child who is quite knowledgeable about the village and its surroundings, a cultured boy who derives pleasure from discovering the cultures of black people. This curious white child retains a privileged lifestyle that allows him to travel all over the world, discovering unknown places. In contrast,   Kariuki emerges as an unrefined child who lacks adequate knowledge, spending most of his time at the riverbank or in the forest hunting wild animals. He is an uninformed boy who struggles to swim or eat fish, unlike his white friend.

Black Unrefinement

The primitiveness of black people underlies the narrative structure of Meja Mwangi’s The Mzungu Boy. The latter uncovers the unrefined lifestyle of the villagers in Bwana Ruin’s farm, uncultured people who live in communion with their natural world.  Kariuki’s father, for instance, is an illiterate man who never attends school; he is unable to read and write, but he places much importance on schooling. He always sends his little child to school on time and in uniform, as he does not want him to leave school and become an ignorant labourer like himself. Kariuki explains:

He had never been to school; he could neither read nor write. But he valued school in a way I would never understand. He often told me in his quiet, subdued way that he did not want me to grow up to be a farm donkey like himself. (p. 14)

Kariuki’s father, like the majority of local people, suffers from the consequences of their ignorance. He is compelled to perform forced labour on Bwana’s farms and work as a cook in his house. He loses control over his circumstances because he lacks the fundamental skills to engage in better jobs that would secure him and his family adequate living standards. Kariuki’s mother, too, is an illiterate woman who does not receive an education. One day, she meets Nigel at riverbank; the British boy salutes her, but she does not respond; she “did not understand a word of English. She had no idea the white boy was talking to her” (p. 34). She is an ignorant housewife who only speaks a native language, like her husband. These parents recognize the importance of education and thus decide to send their child to school to learn and secure a rewarding job.

Kariuki, despite attending school on a regular basis, maintains a primal lifestyle. He enjoys discovering the thick forest as well as fishing in the river. He is a fearless boy who derives pleasure from penetrating the wild jungle. When he finishes his school assignments and homework chores, he embarks on his journeys alone; he states:

I knew the forest very well. On week-ends and school holidays, I spent a lot of time walking the path between the log bridge and the fish pool near where the farm laborers drew their water. It was peaceful among the cool, dappled shadows, the black river rocks and their cold mountain waters with pools so deep and silent you couldn’t hear the water run. (p. 20)

Kariuki seems to be a fearless boy who has an immense passion for jungle expeditions, adventures that allow him to discover wonderful plants and animals. He takes delight in exploring the natural world, as he states, “Alone, I had explored all the forests and caves around Bwana Ruin’s farm” (19). He maintains a jungle life, which is marked by freedom and wilderness.

This adventurous little child, however, lacks a number of life skills, essential talents that would annihilate his primitiveness and barbarism; Kariuki turns out to be unable to eat fish despite being a great fisherman. When his friend Nigel offers him some fish to take home, he refuses the offer, confessing, “I don’t know how to eat fish” (37). Besides, he is not allowed either to catch fish or to eat it. Kariuki states:

My experience at fish stopped at catching it. One day, Hari had caught, cooked and eaten a whole trout by himself. He would not let me have any, because he said it had sharp bones that were dangerous if swallowed. (p. 38)

Kariuki surprisingly never tastes fish, albeit fishing in the river on a daily basis. He is forbidden to eat fish by the grown-ups. Besides, he is bad at swimming; he himself confesses to Nigel, “I can’t swim” (p. 44). He, once, drowns in the river, but fortunately Nigel rescues him. Kariuki, in brief, is a jungle boy who likes to embark on adventures in the forest. He excels at a number of tasks like chopping wood and fetching water, but he lacks proficiency in many other activities.

The villagers, as is the case for Kariuki, sustain an unsophisticated mode of life, an unrefined lifestyle that lacks the fundamental requirements of human decency. They don’t have access to water resources, both in their houses and in the village. Hence, they are supposed to travel a long distance to the river to fetch water. This river water is unclean, undergoing environmental degradation caused by human and animal waste. The narrator states:

The villagers fetched their domestic water hundred yards down the river where the water was dammed with driftwood, forming a deep, dark pool. (p. 28)

The residents of the villages, in this regard, have no option but to drink contaminated water due to water scarcity. They fetch water from the river, which is the only water source for all the wild animals in the forest. These primitive people themselves contribute to the pollution of their water supplies as they “took their utensils to the river to wash” and thus pollute the water (p. 28). They, who lack access to water, destroy their only water source, facing famine, hunger and thirst.

Racial Exclusion

Meja Mwangi’s The Mzungu Boy describes the dreadful implications of the colonial enterprise on the lives of Kenyan people. This colonialism produces an antithetical socio-cultural reality in which British forces retain absolute rights to dominate Kenyan villages; these colonized lands operate on the basis of a radically hierarchical regime. Bwana Ruin, a British settler, occupies the top of the hierarchy. He possesses overwhelming authority in the village, enjoying full access to all local facilities and resources; his fellow white people and he represent the ruling class, whereas the native inhabitants are to be submissive,  occupying the bottom of the social hierarchy. They, mostly farmers and workers, are required to serve white people in order to earn their living. Kariuki, the narrator of the story and a little boy in the village, explains the social structure of his village as follows:

Everything in our village ran according to a hierarchy. Above everyone were Bwana Ruin, Mamsab Ruin and any white person who happened to come along. Then came the village men. Then came the women and the girls; the boys and the village dogs were at the bottom of the ladder, below the goats and the sheep. (p. 49)

This Manichean categorization, which is mainly sparked by the colonial enterprise, generates an unbalanced reality in which the native villagers dwell on the borderlines, dispossessed of their fundamental rights. In contrast, Bwana Ruin and his men control the land and the people. This tyrant emerges as a powerful white man who exercises his full authority over the entire village; he considers himself a god-like human being ruling his district as he pleases. Furthermore, he is obsessed with his lands and farms. He marks them as danger zones that should not be attended by local commoners. These villagers mustn’t set foot on his sacred fields or attend the places where he is or that he visits. In other words, they are forbidden to encounter him or share space with him. The narrator, Kariuki, explains:

Bwana Ruin fished there for trout. When he was fishing, we were not allowed to disturb him and were forced to go elsewhere for our water. (p. 28)

Bwana Ruin seems to be an oppressive despot who controls the entire village, including its natural resources and human capital. He sustains the authority to monopolize the entire area with its forests, farms, rivers and even people; the latter are disallowed to go hunting in his forest or cultivate his land, a land that once belonged to them. Furthermore, they cannot benefit from water resources in the area for even “fishing is not allowed … ; everything belongs to Bwana Ruin” (p. 31). In brief, the residents of the village experience marginalization under the unfair rule of Bwana Ruin and his soldiers. These British officers impose a segregating system in which native people are to suffer, encountering uttermost famine, violence and subjugation. They are deprived of their own lands, forbidden to use the natural resources of the area and always under threat of guns. On the other hand, British people, Bwana and his fellow friends, maintain an extravagant life in their so-called farms, having exclusive rights to the resources of the village. They also push local villagers to the suburbs, alienating them and minimizing their presence on the land.  Kariuki’s father stresses that white people make every endeavor to distance themselves from native inhabitants of the village because they are superiorly different. He clarifies:

White people are not like us. They do not want us to step on their clean floors. I must take off my shoes when I step in their kitchen to do my work. They do not want us to touch their things. They say we make them dirty. (p. 77)

Bwana Ruin and his soldiers, in this respect, regard Kenyan people as inferior, filthy human subjects that are a matter out of place, or rather out of the world. They see them as primitive people who are supposed to be controlled and guided, subjects that are meant to retain a peripheral existence so as to ensure and preserve the purity and the sacredness of the white race.

British authorities divide the Kenyan society into two antithetical realms, a sophisticated space where white men like Bwana Ruin dwell and a marginal area where black people strive to live, fighting hunger, poverty, disease, and even guns. Such degrading discrimination takes place even in spiritual and holy spaces where equality is to be maintained. Bwana Ruin and his white people marginalize the people of the village in church as well. They oblige them to sit at the back seats on the rough woody floor because they are unworthy of the honour Bwana bestows on him, the honour of standing right in front of the white god. Kariuki states:

As in the village, everything in the church went according to a hierarchy. Bwana Ruin and the White people sat in the front rows. Their benches had cushions to sit on and kneel on. While everyone else sat and kneeled on the hard wood. (p. 69)

In church, Bwana Ruin and his folks are privileged above native villagers because they are from the bloodline of Jesus Christ; said otherwise, they are the descendants of the almighty god. Therefore, they are meant to be the most superior race on earth, a divine race that commands respect, if not worship. In brief, “It seemed only natural that the white people, close cousins of the angels and the saints should receive special privileges here as elsewhere in our lives” (p. 70).

CONCLUSION

Meja Mwangi’s The Mzungu Boy enquires into the dynamics of the colonial African experience, a radicalized experience which is articulated within the hegemonic discourse of race‘ism’. Differently put, it delves into the asymmetrical relationship between African people and Western people in the colonial context, a segregation-based setting that negates the significance of black alterity. Rooted in postcolonial theory, the paper investigates non-reciprocal interactions and encounters between the white Self and the black Other during the colonial period, unveiling the implications of imperialism on African identity. Differently put, it explores the politics of racial Otherness in the postcolonial African novel, a radical novel that uncovers Eurocentric discourses rendering black people an absence. These race-driven narratives denigrate African people, exposing them to an essentialist hierarchy that deconstructs their reality.  Such subjugated people, as the paper shows, are both marginalized and territorialized, undergoing symbolic as well as physical violence. This race-driven violence springs from a discriminatory human condition, which is based on a white supremacist ideology that advocates a white metropolis and a black periphery.

REFERENCES

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