A depressed guy sees daffodils and the world suddenly and poetically becomes—literally—all flowers and sunshine. What's this have to do with postcolonialism again? Here's another way to look at it: What place does a poem about daffodils have in the education of a Jamaican or an Indian?
Stuart Hall once pointed out that when he arrived in England from Jamaica, he—of course—knew all about daffodils because he had been taught Wordsworth's poem in school. What he didn't know: the names of the flowers in Jamaica, his homeland. Kind of sad, huh?
Coming from the perspective of a postcolonialist, would you stop the teaching of Wordsworth's poem in an ex-colony like Jamaica in favor of "'native"' literature?
How could a student from a country without daffodils understand or experience Wordsworth's poem? And how is being forced to read about this mystery flower a tool of imperialism?