Exploring Identity and Belonging: Insights from Mirrianne Mahn's

A Stroll Through Nairobi

On Friday, 15 May 2026, I found myself wandering through Nairobi, a city where almost everyone seems to drift. The office worker drifts, the night wanderer drifts, and even the tout leaning against a matatu drifts. People meander from the noise of River Road to the wide sweep of Kenyatta Avenue. They rush past the quick feet on Kimathi Street, where the Nation Media Group’s Twin Towers rise above like a pair of curious giraffes.

As I strolled, I passed the covered arcades of the Bazaar Plaza, crossed over to the lush greenery of Uhuru Park, and ventured towards the Indian restaurants of Westlands. I explored the shops of Ngara, and finally, I returned to the roundabouts and bougainvillea of Upper Hill. The long, exhaust-hazed corridor of Moi Avenue led me to Monrovia Street, which brought me to the Goethe‑Institut.

Meeting Mirrianne Mahn

I was scheduled to interview Mirrianne Mahn, a German author, actress, and playwright who has been a member of the Frankfurt city council since March 2021. The previous day, Mahn had conducted a writing workshop at the Goethe‑Institut. The workshop focused on “what it means to be black in Germany today,” sharing valuable insights with Kenyans who aspire to relocate to Germany.

During our interview, Mahn shared a poignant memory of visiting Nyeri. She recounted hugging a tree planted by Prof. Wangari Maathai. It was Maathai who first “radicalised” her—a 12-year-old girl in rural Germany reading a German newspaper article about a Black woman fighting to plant a million trees. “That was the first time I saw a Black woman in a German newspaper,” she said, “and she was not a victim.”

The Journey of a Novelist

Born in Cameroon but now a German citizen, Mahn highlights systemic racism and historical injustices. She expresses concern about the conspiracy theories and imperial nostalgia that have found a home among Germany’s far-right political factions. Yet, Mahn is also a novelist. Her book, Issa, is ribald, irreverent, and cutting. It embodies the German literary tradition of the Bildungsroman, a novel of formation.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, the father of this genre, introduced it with Wilhelm Meister’s Apprenticeship (1795–1796). This coming-of-age novel tells the story of a young man who falls in love with a troupe of theatre performers. Through misadventure and longing, he discovers the shape of his own soul. The Bildungsroman assumes that society is worth belonging to, and that the protagonist’s rough edges will be smoothed by experience until they fit in.

Challenging the Norms

However, Issa takes this Bildungsroman form and poses a more challenging question: What does it mean to seek formation within a society that has defined you as different and not fully belonging? The novel’s most audacious move is to make Issa emphatically German. In Germany, there is a practice called Pfand—a refundable deposit you pay when buying many bottled or canned drinks. You receive this money back when you return the empty container to a supermarket or recycling point. This reflex to return the container—so German—also belongs to Issa. Mahn’s clever calculation forces the reader not to reject Issa.

The Weight of History

Issa carries a devastating history. The novel begins with a German colonial farmer sexually abusing a Cameroonian woman. The child born from that violence eventually becomes a German citizen. Mahn argues that Germany’s complicated history with racism must be addressed. This insistence is crucial because silence often prevails.

The feminism in Issa is intersectional; it does not treat race and gender as separate grievances. Mahn critiques not only white German society but also the Black community. She highlights the patriarchal structures that oppress Black women and the corporal punishment of children, tracing it not to African tradition but to colonial imposition.

A Multilingual Experience

One of the novel’s formal pleasures is its multilingualism. The text includes phrases in French, Cameroonian pidgin, and other languages. The cover features a dark-skinned woman with full lips and a large natural afro, unapologetic and bold. This is published by one of the oldest names in German literary culture. From the cover, readers know what they are getting into.

Advice for Aspiring Writers

For the many Kenyans considering moving to Germany, Mahn offers some valuable counsel. German punctuality is non-negotiable. The German word for this is Pünktlichkeit, which describes the national expectation of being on time. This respect for schedules treats time as a form of respect. Even German trains are scheduled at precise, non-rounded times. Trains depart at 10:32, not 10:30 or 10:35. One must be punctual.

Mahn was shocked when a Kenyan arrived one and a half hours late for her three-hour workshop in Nairobi. “In Germany, if you are late to a job interview,” she said, “don’t even show up.” She also advises aspiring expatriates to learn the German language, as almost everything is conducted in that language.

Lessons from Issa

What can Kenyan writers learn from Issa? They should tackle the tough issues we often avoid discussing, especially tribalism—our biggest blight. This is a challenge we must confront as a society, particularly as we approach the 2027 elections.

The writer assists people in documenting their memoirs.

johnmwazemba@gmail.com