Translation: If the tree bark does not heal a sore, it removes the scab.
Usage: Everything has some use, even if it does not live up to expectations.
No. 4316 in Bu me Bε by Peggy Appiah et al.
|Devastation after the Rains|
|Another Route to RCI (Unofficial)|
|A Hut at the Edge of the Forest|
|Entrance to the Forest|
The Memory of Love for its risk taking, elegance and breadth. A poignant story about friendship, betrayal, obsession and second chances – the novel is an immensely powerful portrayal of human resilience. The judges concluded that The Memory of Love delicately delves into the courageous lives of those haunted by the indelible effects of Sierra Leone’s past and yet amid that loss gives us a sense of hope and optimism for their future. Forna has produced a bold, deeply moving and accomplished novel which confirms her place among the most talented writers in literature today.
this highly entertaining and thought provoking collection of short stories for their ambition, creativity and craftsmanship. Confidently blending ideas that frequently weave outlandish concepts with everyday incidents, the prose is skilfully peppered with social observations that define the world we live in. The eighteen short stories are truly insightful and amplify many of the absurdities around us, reflecting our own expectations, fears and paranoia on the big questions in life. This book is of the moment, and is rightly at home on a global platform. Cliff is a talent to watch and set to take the literary world by storm.
This year’s winning books demonstrate the irreducible power of the written word at a time of rapid global change and uncertainty. The standard of entries this year has been exceptional, showcasing work with strong insight, spirit and voice introducing readers to unfamiliar worlds.Read more about the awards and winners at the Commonwealth Foundation's site.
choosing a shortlist out of nearly 130 entries was not an easy task – one made more difficult and yet more enjoyable by the varied tastes of the judges – but we have arrived at a list of five stories that excel in quality and ambition. Together they represent a portrait of today’s African short story: its wit and intelligence, its concerns and preoccupations.
Her father was dead and she had perhaps been a little happy when he died, although not for any particular reason; her father had been nothing particular in her life. He was simply a father, but she was happy, because she felt that her mother was happy. Some days later, she heard her say that he hadn't been much use. She was totally convinced of her words. Of what use had her father been.
Her father flooded the bathroom when he took a bath, soaked the living-room when he left the bathroom, threw his dirty clothes everywhere, raised his gruff voice from time to time, coughed and spat a lot, and blew his nose loudly. His handkerchief was very large and always filthy. Her mother put it in boiling water and said to her: 'That's to get rid of germs.' ... That day, the teacher had asked the class: 'where are these things (germs) to be found, girls?' ... 'Do you know where germs are found, Fouada?' Fouada got to her feet, head above the other girls, and said in a loud, confident voice, 'Yes, miss. Germs are found in my father's handkerchief.' (Page 14)
the pointed, black tip of a man's shoe, attached to a short thin grey-clad leg, then a large, white, conical head with a small, smooth patch in the centre, reflecting the sunlight like a mirror; square, grey shoulders emerged next, followed by the second, short, thin leg ... This body, emerging limb by limb, reminded her of a birth she had seen when she was a child. ... She saw the body laboriously climb the stairs. On each step, it paused, as if to catch its breath, and jerked its neck back. The large head swayed as if it would fall ... (Page 8/9)
Portly body was leaning against the window supported by legs that were thin, like those of a large bird. His eyes - now like a frog's, she thought - darted behind the thick glasses. It seemed to her that before her was a strange type of unknown terrestrial reptile - that might be dangerous. (Page 82)
Competition is natural to the ignorant; and cooperation is natural to the wise. (Page 44)
We can not hope to build a nobility of man upon the sterility of a narrow, competitive, materialistic educational policy.
The Mayas were not a warlike people, and there is no support for popular belief that they were by nature cruel or barbaric. (Page 87)
It is believed that the Mayas hold the world record for continued peace. They flourished as a great nation five hundred years without war with other tribes or internal strife. (Page 87)
The Mayan nation was a collective commonwealth living under an advanced form of socialized order. They possessed all goods in common, and shared equally in the benefits of their production. They possessed no money or monetary symbol of any kind; and it has been suggested that this lack of currency was in part responsible for their five hundred years of peace. ... There seems to have been no poverty, and little if any crime. No buildings have been found which suggest prisons or other places of confinement. (Page 88)
The light of the ancient Vedas is slowly but surely illuminating the whole world. The vision of man's noble destiny and the sacred sciences which made it possible the realization of that vision have been guarded and served by "the silent Ones of the earth". (Page 145)
Progress is not bound inevitably to any nation or people. Social and political structures are instruments for the advancement of the Great Work only to the degree that they keep the faith. If ambition or selfishness breaks the bond, the privilege of guardianship is forfeited. This does not mean that the project fails; rather, that which fails the project loses the privilege of leadership. The Plan then passes to the keeping of other groups and other ages. (Page 148)
|Carlos Moore, author|
Source Though Achebe's Things Fall Apart (1958) is often cited and used as the beginning of the modern African novel written in E...