190. Unjumping by Beverley Nambozo Nsengiyunva

Unjumping (erbacce-press, 2010; 36) is a collection of poems by Beverley Nambozo Nsengiyunva. The poems in this collection are diverse in themes but are all short and pithy. Beverley succeeds in putting a lot with few words. Themes range from love, sexual harassment, politics, motherhood and more. The first poem which is the title poem talks about regret and that proverbial impossibility of unwinding of time. It is a wish to get a clean slate and to begin life anew. Undo Me is a plea by a woman, perhaps to her loved one, for reconciliation and fulfilment of their love. This love piece of just six lines and twenty-eight words show is an example of how much Beverley could put into a poem with a few words.

Please Boss is a piece that recounts some of the sexual harassment that goes on at workplaces. Beverley found a way of putting humour in a rather humourless and tensed situation. She writes

Please if  we must

Then not on the desk

You're the boss

You deserve the plush Persian carpet.

The desk has too much of me

Cluttered clips,

Torn trash

Memorised minutes

If we must

Then not on the desk

Using alliterations she captured the tensed moments... 'the cluttered clips' and 'torn trash'. Here, is the boss a trash, or a hymen is to be torn and located within the 'torn' is that onomatopoeic sound of something tearing. The humour is in the fact that the boss was willing to do it on the desk and ironically the subordinate is asking him that they do it on the floor, which is lower than the desk - a floor which indicates a fall from a position of authority.

The longest piece is titled Suicide Bomber with a love twist to it. It was perhaps written for a loved one who happened to be a victim of the the July 7 2005 London bombings. Beverley questions good and bad, right and wrong as it relates to children and adults in Sunday School. She questions why certain things are barred to children and or women but then adults and or men could afford indulge in them. 

Using a fables, Beverley tells a story of the politics of nepotism common on the continent. In this poem, Mamba Crocodile Farm in Mombasa, Beverley describes the octogenarian leader - president or head of state - as a 'Big Daddy' and the people he rules with as crocodiles (or crocs) circling around him. The misuse of resources and that endemic corruption common to such rulers was also mentioned.

The Virgin Mary is about a man who is running away from the responsibility of a girl he has impregnated by accusing the woman of cheating. The first lines alone reeks of sadness and an absolute expression of innocence:

I can be The Virgin Mary

As long as the child is yours.

Post-colonial literature is dominated by the English language and there are only a few authors - I can only mention Ngugi wa Thiong'o - who write in both English and their local languages; however, in Eh! Eh! Beverley showed that she could also write in her local language. Though I couldn't read and understand, I still appreciated her for that.

At the family level and a more legal form of romance, Beverley dedicates Dancing to her husband and in Coffee she managed to find an analogy between sex and the brewing of coffee. Anyone who has been to Uganda, especially Kampala will know attest to its many metal scanners at every shopping mall, hotel and any public building. This is aptly described in Al Qaeda, where she writes:

I am an Al Qaeda.

Metal scanners are my foes; my friends. 

According to Beverley, this anthology came about when she made the top three out of close to 2,000 entries in the 2010 erbacce-prize for poetry, where the judges described her work as 'highly original', 'innovative', and as a 'breath of fresh air'. And I must state that the judges were right in their description. This is an interesting collection that could be read in one sitting but whose content will stay with one for a longer time. Recommended, that is if you can get access to it.

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About the author: The author blogs here.

172. SHORT STORY: Hunter Emmanuel by Constance Myburgh

Constance Myburgh's Hunter Emmanuel is a noir story of sorts. The story was somewhat hard to follow especially due to the technique - or approach - adopted by the author where she mixed dreams and the surreal with reality in a way that doesn't really work. Not that one cannot identify where the dreams end and where reality begins but the parts worked like two immiscible liquids, with one sitting on top of the other. As a story capable of evoking lip-curling grisly imagery, it works; however, it fails on the front of a whodunit. That's how the parts failed to work. Yet, it is possible that the author had nothing of these in her mind.

There is no murder per se that requires investigations; but a woman's leg has been severed at the hip level and, fortunately, she has survived and recuperating in the hospital. The severed leg has been tied to the branch of a pine, in a pine forest that is undergoing harvesting. The discoverer of the leg, like in most film-noir or mass-market whodunits, is a former security officer - Hunter Emmanuel - who knows not what he's doing with his life. Hunter Emmanuel realises that the person the leg belongs is a whore and consequently, the police will not conduct any thorough investigation; this he makes known to Zara, the woman in question. He wants to investigate but he has no reason why he wants to, except that according to him '... a man must investigate'. Or was there some attraction between the pair, especially of Zara to Hunter? Regardless of Hunter's eagerness to solve the case, he was shown as incapable, lacking the requisite elements of the trade to track the perpetrator of that heinous crime. In fact, Hunter was not created to be loved or pitied and neither was Zara. There was a kind of distance between the characters and the reader, no affection, no eagerness for Hunter to succeed.

The question however is, was it necessary for Hunter to investigate this crime, since it was clear from their conversations that Zara knows who had cut off her leg and why but she's not telling and the reason why she wasn't telling was not easily obtained in the prose. The closest Hunter Emmanuel came to finding out, he was blacked out and woke from coma in the hospital.

The dialogue between Zara and Emmanuel sounded a bit artificial and forced. The author had a lot to offer in this story, using the technique of hiding to reveal and to involve the reader in story so that the reader works his or her way into the heart rather than being supplied with all the necessary information. However, it looks as if Constance hid too much so that the story seemed a bit jarred. This personal observation might arise from my own defiency in appreciating such stories and therefore should not be the basisfor judging this story. But is Constance's story therefore empty? The answer is no. Like Nii Ayikwei Parkes' Tail of a Blue Bird, there was no resolution to the crime, which happens to be one of my best endings for crime stories. Again, the language was street-smart. Some may criticise it for being uncough but how many times do we speak those polished Shakespearean English, aside on the English stage of English Theatres.

Hunter Emmanuel might work for others, like most stories. There is something in it that works, which made the judges to shortlist it; not that every shortlisted story works but Hunter Emmanuel seems to (want) tosay something and it might take more to hear it out. It all depends on how it is read and appreciated after all there is always a thin line between a great work and a failed one.

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About the author: Jenna Bass, writing as Constance Myburgh, is a South African filmmaker, photographer, writer and retired magician. Her award-winning, Zimbabwe-set short film, 'The Tunnel', premiered at the Sundance and Berlin Film Festivals and continues to screen internationally. She is currently engaged on her debut feature, 'Tok Tokkie', a supernatural noir set in Cape Town. Jenna is also the editor and co-creator of Jungle Jim, a pulp-literary magazine for African writing. (Source)

156. SHORT STORY MONDAY: Invocations to the Dead by Gill Schierhout

Invocations to the Dead was published in the Caine Prize for African Writing 2010 anthology, A Life in Full and other stories.

Jonas Peterson was involved in a severe accident that left his pelvis crushed in seventeen places and a six-month stay in the hospital. At the hospital Jonas got on well with the nurses and got close to Grace Jaffe. Two years after Jonas was discharged he appeared at Grace's house, when Grace's relationship had gone cold and a divorce had occurred. Jonas was a helper, doing the things most men would not do. He did all the washing, the folding, the cleaning and tidying, and more.

When a job opening was announced at the hospital, Grace encouraged Jonas to go for it. Consenting with her decision, he became a washer of dead bodies for the pathologist. One night Grace was shocked to find, what she initially was a hairless rat, a lung hidden in Jonas's clothes. With his secrets out, Jonas fled the house.

The story begins another two years after Jonas fled from Grace's house at a psychiatric hospital where he had been brought for psychiatric assessment by Grace to determine if the charge for necrophilia which had been brought against him, when he was caught with human parts, would stand. It then alternated between the past life of Jonas and Grace and the current life at the hospital. The information on Jonas given to the hospital reads

 Illegally possessing various body organs, for no legitimate reason. Atypical Necrophilia. No evidence found of defilement of a corpse. Patient cannot give account of his actions. No other compulsive behaviours noted. Some tendency to magical thinking.

And Grace, who had been the first to witness Jonas's affinity for dead people perhaps which resulted from his working at the morgue, was tasked with performing a three-day assessment on him and make up her mind on his condition:

It is now up to Grace, and her colleagues, to answer the Magistrate's standard questions. In your opinion, was the act premeditated? Does the patient show remorse? Is this a rigid pattern of behaviours? Is he likely to re-offend?

Her answers would determine whether he is released on bail perhaps with medication or sent to prison. But before any of these could occur, Jonas stole one of the doctors' car and escaped. However, because six months previous to his appearance at the hospital he had communicated with Grace and had told him he was a changed man, Grace knew where he was heading towards. She followed him, found him, never brought him to justice, and helped in his escape. In all these, there was no love between Grace and Jonas.

This particular story got me thinking. How could one allow one who cuts dead bodies escape or help in his escape? The best should be an attempt at treatment.

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Source

About the author: Gill Schierhout has lived in Sydney since 2009. She is a writer, mother, struggling academic, consultant in public health, daughter, dog-owner and aspiring runner. In 2008, her short story The Day of the Surgical Colloquium Hosted by the Far East Rand Hospital was short-listed for the Caine Prize for African Writing. Her first novel, The Shape of Him (Random House, United Kingdom, 2009) was short-listed for the Commonwealth Writers’ Prize, the Sunday Times Literary Award (South Africa), and nominated for the International IMPAC Dublin Literary Award. Set in South African mining communities in the early 1900’s, it tells the story of Sara Highbury, an immigrant from the United Kingdom, and her doomed love affair with a diamond digger, Herbert Wakeford. She also writes a few short stories and is working on a second novel, and on some attempts at literary non-fiction. (Source)

150. SHORT STORY MONDAY: Happy Ending by Stanley Onjezani Kenani

After finding a love letter in his wife's handwriting with no name or address, Dama concluded that his wife of infidelity. He therefore sought the help of a spiritualist to deal with this offending man. The spiritualist, Simbazako, older than anyone in the village, listened to Dama's concerns and told him he had no problem. Simbazako is famous for the things he could do, though some were mere exaggerations. Before he proceeded he offered Dama the options available for him to make his choice.

There was one in which the man could die as if stung by a puff adder a few hours after the act. There was another in which the lover could be tortured slowly, feeling like a million needles were pricking his stomach. There was another in which the lover could go on for a month, every second, every minute, until death put the victim out of his misery. Dama, however, had decided not to be so cruel, so he'd settled for kuthamokondwa. The man should die in the act, he thought. [125]

Back home and Dama was still in between thoughts: should he or should he not. The spiritualist had told him that he could the food, after he had mixed it with the herbs he has provided, with her wife and nothing will happen to him but for his wife the moment he takes in the food, the medicine will starts its work. What he should realise was that if his wife doesn't cheat on him in a year he would be the one to die.

Now playing with the medicine it inadvertently fell from his hands into the food. So he removed it and stirred it. Dama had remained chaste and is afraid of any notion of sex outside marriage because of what happened to his father, which later shame the whole family. His father, a shameless womaniser who would follow anything female, was the first person in the whole of Malawi to be diagnosed of AIDS. After his and her wife's death, Dama became the item of gossips and a laughing stock to the people. People point hands at him as if he was the father and had committed the crime.

After the death of his parents, the young Dama was left to cater for his younger brother Abisalomu. To help him do all these, he married Tithelepo. But with time the two found that children will not be forthcoming and so adopted his brother as his son. But then the village folks began to gossip.

One day, coming from his daily rounds, Dama heard his wife shouting from behind the news. Rushing to the scene he found his brother, Abisalomu, dead.  Tithelepo ran away and Dama ran to the old Simbazako only to discover his decomposing body in his hut. Later Tithelepo will come back to her husband but between them lay an uneasy coldness. Dama had overheard a conversation between his wife and her friend as to how she forced Abisalomu to do what he did, that he was doing it to bring happiness to Dama. That month she got pregnant.

The first part of the short story was brilliantly told. But the denouement or the revelation in this case is artificial and too forced. The dialogue itself was constructed as if it were meant for Dama to hear and be convinced. Again, and this is personal, was this a happy ending because the woman became pregnant and the family had the child they had always wanted? Or was it a happy ending because the woman got the child that would erase the 'shame' of childlessness, even if in this case was the man's problem. Because sleeping with a man's brother is no justification for infidelity unless it has been agreed between the two. But then this is one of those moral issues whose answer is subjective.

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About the author: Stanley Onjezani Kenani is a Malawian writer and poet. As a poet, Kenani has performed at the Arts Alive Festival in Johannesburg, South Africa, Poetry Africa in Durban, South Africa, Harare International Festival of the Arts (HIFA), Zimbabwe, and at the Struga Poetry Evenings in Macedonia. Kenani has won several awards in his country for his short story writing. In 2007, his short story, For Honour, won the third prize in an HSBC/SA PEN Competition. The same short story was shortlisted for the Caine Prize in 2008 and appeared in the anthology African Pens: New Writing from Southern Africa 2007 (Source). Read more about the author here.

148. SHORT STORY MONDAY: Mr Oliver by Mamle Kabu

Mamle Kabu's Mr. Oliver is a story about the relationship that exists between the rich and the poor and the fake camaraderie shared among the rich and high-society folks, who keep up appearances to please their fellow glitterati and the socialite.  

Written in the first person singular, Alex's wife tells of how things aren't going well between her and her nouveau-riche husband. Oliver is the mason working on the extension of their house and belongs to the early wealthy folks whose third generation children are languishing in poverty. Like most artisans he knows that the Alex's wife is 'soft' when it comes to money; hence, even though he had been provided with all the necessary materials required to complete his job, he went to her for the money-equivalent of a bag of cement. Alex's wife, fascinated by Oliver's eyes, was surprised how such a man could also be an alcoholic and wonders what actually happened to him, especially their branch of the famous Oliver family. Her reveries are filled with what she would have done had she had the heavy-hooded type of eyes that Oliver has. As she thinks about this, Alex calls her to inform her he is at the airport and will soon be home and that he should prepare herself for a party.

Later that evening the two would attend a party, together with other bigwigs, hosted by the new American ambassador. There, Alex would introduce his wife to people whom he only knew by title and not by name and who would also live up to the phoniness and the charade their lives have become to such an extent that one lady actually asked her,

How are your adorable children?

even though they had no children. And the absence of children in the marriage was also because Alex, wanting to be considered civilised and abreast with current trends, was playing the 'let's wait for some time' game so that when the time came that he really wanted children, the marriage had, unknown to him, gone somewhat sour and his wife was also no more interested, unprepared to remove the birth control implant. The faux relationships were glaring with each one present trying hard to fit in and be counted. Alex had put on his false American accent to impress. In this way the story reminds the reader of what Holden Caufield was ranting about in The Catcher in the Rye.

All this while, Alex's wife was thinking of Oliver and how they should pass by his house and pay him the rest of his money. When she brought up this issue up again on their way home, Alex was furious - thinking more of what he would be doing to her wife. She insisted and he succumbed. At Oliver's residence in a rundown neighbourhood, Alex would deduct the money he had taken from his wife from the remainder of his fees. Overhearing what his husband had said, she would forcefully open the gate of the hummer and jump out; and would give the poor man all the money she had in her handbag.

All through this story, there were subtle references on how the rich maltreat the poor and how they unconsciously keep them poor. It was like Oliver was no human. Again, Alex was full of himself; he effused an arrogance that was disturbing. In this short story, the conscious or unconscious relationship between these two extremes of wealth was aptly portrayed.

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About the author: Mamle Kabu was shortlisted for the Caine Prize in 2009 for her short story The End of Skill. She grew up in Ghana and later in the UK where she studied at Cambridge University. She has had five other short stories published. She currently lives and works in Ghana and is a mother of two. 

Read ImageNations interview with the author here.

145. SHORT STORY MONDAY: A Life in Full by Jude Dibia

Jude Dibia's story A Life in full, the eponym of the anthology, is one that plague many a household in this part of the world where children are valued above all else, so that one can have all the properties in this world, acquire all the knowledge that one can possibly acquire and still be considered useless, or having lived a life in full, if one does not have at least a child. 

Victor has completed his university degree, has a good job, and lives comfortably in his Lagos home. However, Victor's entrenched stand on marriage has created (or is creating) a chasm between him and his mother. Mabel, Victor's mother, don't seem to understand why a man like Victor, with all the things one needs to live a comfortable life, will refuse to marry. When Victor complained of sickness and his mother went to visit him and stayed to cook for him and keep the house tidy, two things became clear: Victor wouldn't allow his mother to talk to him about marriage issues with him and Victor wants no intrusion into his personal space.

But Mabel, who wants her eldest child to bear her grandchildren, had also gone through a bitter marriage experience with her husband, George, whom she is still married to. She had married young - the reason why she accepted Victor's excuses of wanting to settle down first - and had forfeited her university education for marriage. Ironically, it was her father who had sponsored her husband's education. However, after marriage, the two realise how difficult life is and sometimes Mabel has to go to her family's homestead. Their room was small and could not accommodate the growing family size. Finally, George turned out not to be the man he was prior to marriage and so Mabel was to be sad throughout marriage, at least up to when the children became old enough to cater for themselves.

It was after a conversation with Thelma, her daughter domiciled in the US, that it dawned on her that perhaps she had overstayed her welcome and that perhaps her gloomy marriage might have affected her son. Thelma also offered possible reasons why Victor had not as yet married including the possibility that he might be a homosexual, or might have been hurt by a lady when she was in school. So that night after the conversation, when Victor for the first time came home extremely late and trudged along into the house, Mabel made it a point to leave for his home at Asaba and to her husband, George; to leave Victor to himself and the vegetable garden she had failed to raise to fruition to the devices of the weather. 

The parallelism drawn between Mabel's consistent failure with her tomato garden and the failure to convince her son to marry is interesting. It is as if the success of this garden will translate into victory in her son's life. The issue of marriage and of bearing children after marriage is crucial to the African and have led to several divorces. Though there wasn't any twists and turns in the story and that the educated son will not succumb to the mother, the idea of personal space broadly seems foreign in an African context. It is expected that the African, having been enmeshed in the extended family system, will hardly complain of a 'personal space.' But his Africanness, an inherent part of him, reared its head slightly when he was unable to directly confront his mother that she should leave but indirectly made his point by telling her not to sit in a particular seat and not to touch his things anyhow. This form of modernism is gradually showing up in several African stories, exposing the gradual transformation the African is going through at several levels.

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About the author: Jude Dibia is a Nigerian-born novelist. He has a B.A. in Modern European Languages (German). He is the author of three novels: Walking with Shadows (2005), Unbridled (2007), and Blackbird (2011). Walking with Shadows is said to be the first Nigerian novel that has a gay man as its central character* and that treats his experience with great insight, inviting positive response to his situation. Unbridled won the 2007 Ken Saro-Wiwa Prize for Prose and was finalist in the 2007 Nigeria Prize for Literature. His short stories have appeared on various online literary sites including AfricanWriter.com and Halftribe.com. One of Jude's short stories is included in the anthology One World: A Global Anthology of Short Stories. 

143. SHORT STORY MONDAY: Soul Safari by Alnoor Amlani

Soul Safari by Alnoor Amlani, published in the Caine Prize 2010 anthology, is a story about a well-planned but botched marriage proposal between former high-school lovers, Adam and Zara. Adam has carefully planned a Safari trip for his long time high-school who had just a terrible break-up with his boyfriend that required the police to literally uproot him from her apartment.

Adam seemed not to have taken the psychological consequences of such a horrible incident into consideration when planning for this romantic adventure. Upon reaching the place the relationship between the two went sour when Adam openly expressed his love for Zara. Zara on her part let it known to him that she loves him too, but only as a sister would love a brother. This statement broke the last string that held them together. Red with jealous and almost annoyed with anyone who dared hold a conversation with Zara that kept him out, the relationship was descending farther and farther into an irremediable state. And Adam was bent on pushing his proposal through. He was virtually obsessed with her: dreaming of her being chased by lions and he working to save her.

But Zara also has her career before her. She's yet to complete her degree in Film Studies in London, where her parents have migrated to five years ago and Adam is already settled with a well-paying job. Petty quarrelling ensued during their journey towards the last park they had to visit. When a bulbul settled on their car and looked at itself in the mirror, Zara asked "I wonder whether it knew it was looking at itself" and Adam responded "Maybe it thought it had found a girlfriend". This, or another, bulbul would later settle on their table after Zara had told Adam that she thinks she is in love and Adam had smiled for the first time since the time he professed his love to her and she had brushed it off. Did that smile and that acknowledgement of love mean the two would get involve?

This is a love story of sorts though not the romance-soggy types. It portrays the relationship between a man, set to marry, and a woman, set on her career. Yet, it doesn't lead to much estrangement as each is not holding to an entrenched position. Zara might be acting it out per her previous encounter, Adam could wait for her. But, definitely, there was a flicker of hope in the end.

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About the author:  Alnoor Amlani is a third-generation Kenyan of Indian origin who lives in Nairobi. He has worked in East Africa as a management consultant and written articles and opinion pieces for over a decade. He began writing fiction in 2009. He is currently writing his first novel. (Source: anthology)

141. SHORT STORY MONDAY: The Plantation by Ovo Adagha

For the next three months or so reviews for the Short Story Monday will be taken from the Caine Prize 2010 anthology titled A Life in Full and other stories. This anthology is made up of seventeen short stories in two parts; five of these were shortlisted for the 2010 Caine Prize for African Writing and have already been reviewed. The remaining twelve short stories, which is going to be spread over the next three months, were written at the CDC Caine Prize Writers' Workshop. 

The Plantation by Ovo Adagha is situated in an oil-producing region of Nigeria. Like most stories set in such regions, the dichotomy between the inherent wealth of oil and the absolute poverty that has encapsulated and defined the lives of the inhabitants is glaring. The takeover of their fertile land by underground tubes that spews oil into the soil making the land non-cultivatable spells doom for the indigent indigenes. They see the wealth flowing through poverty only to inflate bellies in faraway places.

In this particular story, a man, coming from his rubber plantation, heard the whistling spill of petrol in his farm. Afraid of attracting attention to himself and eager to take advantage of it before the dreadful scavengers come to suck everything off depriving him of some of the wealth, even on his own farm, he set off home to bring his wife and children. But in trying to deflect attention, he attracted it because he who was friendly and jovial and would greet people - asking of the health of their children's children - now offered two-word responses to greetings. People questioned his sanity. 

The man brought his family: three children and a wife. Namidi's wife sensed a terrible premonition in this mission. She warned his husband but Namidi brushed Mama Efe off; there is money to be made. But after the third, the smell of petrol diffused throughout the village by the wind and by the rascal Jackson. Ochuko, his son, was then assigned to keep watch over their acquisitions. Ochuko kept his watch and played as well with his friend Onome, whose parents have, perhaps, also come to fill their tanks. Suddenly, Onome fell head first from the tree they had climbed, and suddenly there was fire as Ochuko watched people draped in fire and dancing as if possessed by some hyperactive demon or like a spirit-possessed fetish priest.

This story brings out the tragedy of poverty; that even in search of wealth, trying to partake in the common wealth that had been appropriated by a few cheek-sagging individuals, death lurks. How did the fire come about? Did someone light a match? Or was the mid-day sun responsible? Thus, whatever the case may be, it is clear the the elemental forces together with their own ignorance work to keep them poor, to suppress them and if they get out of line, burn them.

A simple story whose appreciation increases if one understands the geopolitics of the Niger Delta and how a group of people are being made poorer each day because their land contains the wealth of a country; because big corporations and big politicians are interested in their wealth but not in their lives and survival.
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About the author: Ovo Adagha is a Nigerian writer. His short stories, poems, and non-fiction have been published in several online and print journals. He recently co-edited a multi-national anthology of short stories, One World, published in 2009. He Lives in London. (Source: the anthology)

138. Burning Grass by Cyprian Ekwensi

Title: Burning Grass

Author: Cyprian Ekwensi

Illustrator: A. Folarin

Genre: Ethnic

Publishers: Heinemann (AWS)

Pages: 118

Year of First Publication: 1962

Country: Nigeria

Cyprian Ekwensi' Burning Grass is a story about the life of Fulani herdsmen narrated through Mai Sunsaye. Mai Sunsaye is a leader of his people and a medicine man, a man who knows how to treat people. One day, whilst with his sons grazing their cattle an incident occurred that would affect all their lives including the children. A Fulani girl a slave of the fearful man Shehu was being chased by a man with whips. Mai Sunsaye paid for Fatimeh with his cattle and ordered man to leave. Thus, Fatimeh became free.

Rikku, the youngest son Mai Sunsaye loved Fatimeh and the girl also showed signs of affection toward him. However, it was Hodio who eloped with her. As a leader of the people of Dokan Toro, Mai Sunsaye had been opposed by Ardo. One day, Ardo's men released a bird with magic which inflicts people with sokugo 

a magic that turned studious men into wanderers, that led husbands to desert their wives, Chiefs their people and sane men their reason.

Drawn by the bird, and with his household burnt, Mai Sunsaye began a journey that would take him to several places, meeting several people, and participating in several activities. He would meet eldest son Jalla, would run from him and move on to Old Chanka and then to New Chanka. His son Rikku would follow him and so would his wife and daughter, in search of their father and husband. Initially, Mai Sunsaye set out after the bird, then the search turned into a search for his son, Jalla, and when Jalla was found it turned into a search for Fatimeh so that his son Rikku, who had suffered emotionally and physically by the elopement, would be well again.

Whilst on this journey, Fatimeh had also gained a reputation, one that grew from people's  fear. She wore only white, traveled with a lion, owned a herd of cattle and journeyed only in the evenings. These added onto her legend. When Fatimeh left with Hodio, they had met Jalla and another incident had happened. At New Chanka, Shehu's men had attacked Hodio and he had defended himself but could do nothing to the re-taking of Fatimeh as a slave. But the woman found her way out and was now living an itinerant life. Mai Sunsaye's adventures would include meeting Fatimeh, who would heal him from the sokugo, meeting Ligu, who would help him fight Shehu and his men for his son Rikku who was arrested when he was running away from Kantuma, bringing his family together and fighting Ardo and his men and to lead the Dokan Toro people. Mai Sunsaye, through this affliction, visited his sons, supervised the marriage of Jalla and witnessed his flight from manliness.

This story portrays the life, struggles, and travails of cattle herdsmen and their aversion towards city life and its sedentariness. The enjoyment of the book is the narration. Events take place at a fast pace and though the reader could make some predictions, because things fitted in so perfectly, it was still a pleasure to read them. The reader can find himself or herself hoping that nothing untoward happen to the old man (Mai Sunsaye) who was oblivious of the cause of his zeal to travel or leave home. Ekwensi employed the traditional narrative style and it suited the story very well. 

Though one is tempted to ask which great medicine man cannot fight sokugo charms or even show any form of magic whiles on his journeys, these don't detract from the story. It is a quick and fan read. Jagua Nana has been touted as Ekwensi's best.

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Cyprian Ekwensi (Source)

About the author: Cyprian Ekwensi ( September 26, 1921–November 4, 2007 ) was a Nigerian writer who stressed description of the locale and whose episodic style was particularly well suited to the short story.

Cyprian Odiatu Duaka Ekwensi was born at Minna in Northern Nigeria on September 26, 1921. He later lived in Onitsha in the Eastern area. Ekwensi attended Government College in Ibadan, Oyo State, Achimota College in Ghana, and the School of Forestry, Ibadan, after which he worked for two years as a forestry officer. He also studied pharmacy atYaba Technical Institute, Lagos School of Pharmacy, and the Chelsea School of Pharmacy of the University of London. He taught at Igbobi College. He lectured in pharmacy at Lagos and was employed as a pharmacist by the Nigerian Medical Corporation. Ekwensi married Eunice Anyiwo, and they had five children.

Ekwensi began his writing career as a pamphleteer, and this perhaps explains the episodic nature of his novels. This tendency is well illustrated by People of the City (1954), in which Ekwensi gave a vibrant portrait of life in a West African city. It was the first major novel to be published by a Nigerian. Two novellas for children appeared in 1960; bothThe Drummer Boy and The Passport of Mallam Ilia were exercises in blending traditional themes with undisguised romanticism. (Source)

131. SHORT STORY MONDAY: Hitting Budapest by NoViolet Bulawayo

Hitting Budapest is the winner of the Caine Prize for African Writing in 2011. The story is about five young girls, mostly pre-teen, moving from their shanty town of Paradise to the estates of Budapest in search of guavas and anything that matter. As they make their journey towards Budapest they converse as all children do. It is through this that we get to know that Chipo, a girl of ten years, has been impregnated by her grandfather.

At Budapest they met a white woman of 33 years who had just come from London, eating ice-cream. They looked longingly at this ice-cream only for her to throw what is left of it into the dustbin and take a picture of them. On their way back they shared their dreams with each other: to travel to America, get big houses and cars. Whereas IMF is a street at Budapest, AU is a street at Paradise, the shanty town.

Back at Paradise, the children went to ease themselves in the bush where they saw a woman dangling from a rope - a possible suicide. The children decided to remove the shoes the dead woman was wearing and sell for it for bread.

Initially, this story reads as a metaphor where some Africans in search of better lives travel abroad. Again, Paradise and Budapest represent the economic duality that we have in most countries where extreme poverty exist side by side with all the skyscrapers and glass-houses. However, as the story unfold, the metaphorical view changed.

As the children journeyed in search of guavas as food, they discussed Chipo's pregnancy. Most of them did not know how babies are made with some thinking that God puts it there. However, these same children knew about terrorists who hijack planes. They also know that most people who go to America clean poop in nursing homes. I found this a bit difficult to take.

Like most of the winning stories in the Caine Prize for African Writing, there was defilement, poverty, extreme hunger, dejection, and many more. Whereas some readers, including myself, have bemoaned the trend of the winning and shortlisted stories others have equally embraced them. Irrespective of my belief that even such stories could be written in a different way or from a different angle to make it new, this story reads nicely. The story can be read here.

______________________________

Brief Bio: NoViolet’s stories have won the 2011 Caine Prize for African Writing and shortlisted for the 2009 SA PEN Studzinsi Award. Her work has appeared in Callaloo, Boston Review, Newsweek, The Warwick Review, as well as in anthologies in Zimbabwe, South Africa and the UK.

NoViolet recently earned her MFA at Cornell University where her work has been recognized with a Truman Capote Fellowship. She currently teaches creative writing and composition at Cornell. NoViolet was born and raised in Zimbabwe. (Source)

124. So Long a Letter by Mariama Bâ

Title: So Long a Letter*

Author: Mariama Bâ
Translator: Madupe Bode-Thomas

Genre: Fiction

Publishers: African Writers Series Classics
Original Language: French

Pages: 97

Year of First Publication: 1979

Country: Senegal

Mariama Bâ's epistolary novella, So Long a Letter, voted as one of the best African books in the twentieth Century, is a commentary on Senegal's, and by extension Africa's, patriarchal society and the role of tradition and customs in maintaining and perpetuating the status quo. To some extent, the novella also portrays certain inherent weaknesses in some women when faced with the opportunity to finally take flight. It also opens up such feminist topics as polygamy, providing a different angle to the old story from a woman's perspective. Consequently, it has been described in some quarters as the first African feminist book and the author's overt use of 'New African Woman', 'Independence', 'Liberation' and similes and metaphors of similar meanings might have spurred this explicit description.

Ramatoulaye, the protagonist, is writing to inform her childhood friend, Aissatou, of the death of her husband, Modou. The writing of the letter itself - a cascade of past pleasures and present pain collected through a selective process to assuage her present predicament - and its sharing are part of Ramatoulaye's personal therapy, regarding Aissatou as someone with whom she shares similar fate after Aissatou had gone through and come out of the other end of the mills and ills of marriage - divorce - a better woman.

As the letter unfolds we get to know the exact causes of her pains, the extent of her suffering in the last five years of marriage until Modou's eventual death and the botheration she was going through even after his death from his family members stealing the family's properties to his brother proposing marriage at his brother's funeral. Ramatoulaye's husband of twenty years (at the time) had married their daughter's best friend, Binetou, leaving her to her fate and shirking all responsibilities as a husband and a father of a dozen children. But the major question or problem Mariama Bâ tends to answer with the Ramatoulaye character was her decision to remain married to a man who had, for all intents and purposes, 'divorced' her whilst at the same time describing herself as part of the new breed of African women. Was it because she was afraid of betraying the course after rejecting her mother's choice of a husband and going ahead with her marriage to Modou, because she was a 'New African Woman', or was because of those inherent fears she hinted upon in the text? 

All through the narrative, explicit statements were made about the turning away from the old patriarchal society of the West African country (and West Africa in general) to one where everyone would have equal rights and access. And Ramatoulaye was one its proponents. She was politically-aware, a working mother, and a feminist revolution advocate, rejecting all suitors during and after he husband's funeral, including her Modou's elder brother. Yet, some of her decisions seemed to run counter to her preach. For instance, though she argued against the all-male National Assembly she would not enter politics. But most importantly, it was her stated reasons for not divorcing her husband which are difficult to accept:

Leave? Start again at zero, after living twenty-five years with one man, after having borne twelve children? Did I have enough energy to bar alone the weight of responsibility, which was both moral and material? [41]

And as a show of solidarity with Aissatou, she says:

Even though I understand your stand, even though I respect the choice of liberated women, I have never conceived happiness outside marriage. [58]

Yet, Ramatoulaye brought up her children liberally; making them choose their own husbands and throwing some part of her people's culture - both behavioural and institutional - away and setting her children up for the consequences of her decisions. Daba, the first child and former best friend of her father's new bride, was to build upon her mother's legacy. Her vision of marriage was totally different from that of her mother. She saw marriage as a

[M]utual agreement over a life's programme. So if one of the partners is no longer satisfied with the union, why should he remain? ... The wife can take the initiative to make the break. [77]

Whilst Daba was absorbing her mother's experiences and training and turning them into her own life philosophies, her other sisters were trailing other paths. Even then, Ramatoulaye would not resort to the 'normal' modes of correction. Especially when Aissatou (not the recipient of the letter) got pregnant she accepted the man responsible instead of reprimanding her, as suggested by her neighbour. Her focus to stay the course was once again threatened when she caught her twin daughters smoking in their room, after she had decided not to invade their privacy. And for those Western culture she did not agree with (such as the kind of fashion that was in vogue at the time), she was made to accept them, so that in someway her evolution was aided  by her children:

I considered the wearing of trousers dreadful in view of our build, which is not that of slim Western women. Trousers accentuate the ample figure of the black woman and further emphasize the curve of the small of the back. But I gave in to the rush towards this fashion, which constricted and hampered instead of liberating. [80]

Was the use of 'constricted' four words away from 'liberating' - and in the same descriptive sentence - symbolical? Could this be interpreted as a warning against absolute cultural osmosis instead of selective cultural borrowing? 

Another point of note is that even though the women in Mariama Bâ's story were Muslims they were all against polygamy. Regarding Ramatoulaye, one finds it difficult if it was the second marriage that made her bitter or her husband's treatment. In all three scenarios of polygamy (Ramatoulaye and Modou; Aissatou and Mawdo; and Jacqueline and Samba Diack) the husband's treatment of the first wives, after taking on another wife, was appalling resulting in emotional distress, divorce and nervous breakdown and subsequent death, respectively, for all the women involved.

Using climatic and geological metaphors that rings of 'tropical storms' and 'earthquake' respectively, Ramatoulaye provided a fitting end to her final transformation when she confirmed that she is not

[I]ndifferent to the irreversible currents of women's liberation that are lashing the world. This commotion that is shaking up every aspect of our lives reveals and illustrates our abilities. [93]

empahsising again the equality between the two genders. This statement defines or summarises all the major issues Ramatoulaye discussed in her letter.

Finally, like most stories written from the first person perspective, there were several events that she definitely couldn't have known had she not been told by another but no such claims were made. Again I find the description of another character's emotion by a protagonist in a 'first-person' narrative very difficult to believe, if not handled properly. However, all in all this was an interesting story and one I enjoyed reading.
___________________
Brief Bio:  Mariama Bâ (1929–1981) was born into a well-to-do family in Dakar, where she grew up. In the newly independent Senegal, Bâ's father became one of the first ministers of state. After Bâ's mother died, she was raised in the traditional manner by her maternal grandparents. Her early education she received in French, while at the same time attending Koranic school. At school Bâ was a prominent student. During the colonial period and later, girls faced a number of obstacles when they wanted to have a higher education. Bâ's grandparents did not plan to educate her beyond primary school, but her father's insistence on giving her an opportunity to continue her studies eventually prevailed. She won the first prize in the entrance examination and entered the Ecole Normale de Rufisque, a teacher training college near Dakar. During this period she published her first book. It was non-fiction and dealt with colonial education in Senegal. At school she also wrote an essay, which created a stir for its rejection of French policies in Africa. However, later in life Bâ recalled her experience with the French colonial educational system in a positive way. Bâ married a Senegalese member of Parliament, Obèye Diop, but divorced him and was left to care for their nine children. (Source)
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*The last book read in 2011

121. The Imported Ghanaian by Alba Kunadu Sumprim

Title: The Imported Ghanaian

Author: Alba Kunadu Sumprim
Illustrator: Alba Kunadu Sumprim

Genre: Non-Fiction/Satire

Publishers: Marvik

Pages: 264

Year of First Publication: 2006

Country: Ghana

This book was supposed to be reviewed within the Ghana Literature Week hosted by Kinna. However, I had to defer it.

Alba Kunadu Sumprin's book is a difficult book that provides an unapologetic and scathing look at some supposed Ghanaian eccentricities and foibles. How much the issues discussed are a general Ghanaian problem and how prevalent they are to merit such generalisation is what need to be discussed not whether they occur or not. However, there are certain things that must be cleared before I discuss this book:

1. If you are a man be careful when reading this. According to the author, almost all the things she discussed are caused by men. Even when she was discussing the problems of women, she found ways of making their problems male.
2. The author placed herself on some high pedestal of morality, civility and knowledge and Ghanaians in a box of 'badly nurtured, ignorant, undisciplined zombies' who have not yet come out of the eolithic age.
3. The author makes everything she saw, read or was told look inferior to the mannerisms she has acquired in UK, where she was born and raised.  

Thus, as a Ghanaian male forgive me if I tend to be defensive instead of discussing this book. This book is the antitheses of both of Kofi Akpabli's books. 

To begin with, it would be deceitful to say that none of what has been discussed by the author is alien to Ghana. It is not. In fact they do occur and I have personally witnessed or being a victim of some of them. However, where I disagree with the author - the author herself states that she doesn't expect the reader to agree or believe everything she has written - is her penchant to generalise.

The book opens with a list of 20 Things You Need to Know and each begins with 'Ghanaians ...'. First on this list of was:

First and foremost, Ghanaians know everything and are always right. If you try to tell or show the Ghanaian something or a better way of doing things, then you are too known, and they are not going to listen to you.

I guess, the Ghanaian has never been to school or learnt a vocation. If the Ghanaian has then I wonder how they learnt from their teachers or masters. It is wonderful that by accusing Ghanaians of knowing everything and being always right, the author herself exhibited this trait by condemning everything - at least those in the book - she saw or experienced and prescribing what should be done instead. She knows the correct way Ghanaians should dress and the proper body-weight they should have. In the latter, I don't know if Ghana is an obese country compared to the UK or Europe, where governments spend more on obese-related health issues than any other. 

The author does not understand why Ghanaians would ask you 'are you sure?' after you have provided them with an information (and note that this never occurs in a formal setting; it's always between friends). I have never travelled anywhere or as extensive as the author, but I guess each country has its own such 'unique' words or phrases they use, which to the uninitiated ears doesn't sound right. Having lived in Ghana all my life, I never take offense to this. The questioner is not doubting your integrity, he or she wants confirmation. And this is not a matter of semantics. Recently, a guy had to come to my office for something. He called to say he was there and I asked if he was sure he was there. Why? because I was in the office, had even come out of the building but he wasn't around.

Perhaps experiencing some form of culture shock, Alba decided to put down her experiences as a freshly arrived Ghanaian. She describes Ghanaians as individualistic but pretending to love the communalism. She says when the Ghanaian says you are invited (to his or her food), you're really not invited and she experimented this with a MAN who later looked shocked that his food was really going to be shared. I was also shock because unless the author is telepathic, something she accused Ghanaians of in one of the chapters, she could not have known why the man was shocked. I have friends who will not wait to be asked before they join in my food. And I do same to them. If one has worked in the rural areas one would know that the first code of ethics in working in such places is that 'do not refuse anything you are given' and these are the most poor people you will meet in Ghana. They can surprise you with the gift they will give you. In fact, some years back people prepared more food they can eat and keep some in expectation of a visitor: family or otherwise.

Then there is the issue of the εnyε hwee  (literally, it is not anything, just stop) phrase which she used to explain most of the topics she discussed. This phrase or statement is used to calm down tempers and resolve problems. Here one of the parties, especially the aggrieved one is made to drop the issue at hand and forget about it. And this is what the author vehemently spoke against. She would want to educate the perpetrator of the effect of what he or she had done or nearly did to her. Why should people tell her to drop the issue? This also leads to why several street arguments do not degenerate into fist-fights; why someone will just pop up and utter the "εnyε hwee" phrase to whittle tempers, and she doesn't understand this. I was partly surprised by this notion; partly, because for one who is describing Ghanaians as having a Neanderthal behaviour to prescribe the reenactment of William Golding's Lord of the Flies as a way of resolving problems is shocking. Perhaps it is this attitude, despised by the author, that has kept the country together, have prevented all our elections from descending into civil conflicts, though we have been to the brink on many occasions. On the other hand, I think we, as Ghanaians, need to stop being bias towards these foreigners who parade our streets and should insist on the right thing as the author wants. But to fight to get there? No.

She describes how people spits about, urinate and ease themselves anywhere they get to, dig into their noses, and most of these are men's behaviour. However, had the author not been told that the buta (a kettle-like plastic container) that Muslim carry contains water, she thought it was a urine container they carry with them. Is this not a clear example of misconception and misconstruing of people's way of living? 

Under Wires Crossed she discussed how Ghanaians respond to questions. In asking a driver's assistant (popularly referred to as Mate) whether the trotro (public bus transport) will pass through Achimota, the mate responded that he doesn't have coins. And here the author was worried. She needed a yes or no answer. But hasn't the mate responded and added a condition? I would have jumped onto it because subtly the mate had said yes, but she shouldn't get on board if all she has are bigger notes as he has no smaller notes to be used as change. And this is the reason I refer to some of her experiences as ordinary culture shock. Again, it is not good to pretend that everybody speaks or understands English especially the kind which comes with the American or British accent, no matter how the words are enunciated.

There is also the discussion of Ghanaians making other people's business their business. I laughed when I read this. This is what most Ghanaians who have lived abroad (abroad meaning North America and Europe) will tell you they miss the most about Ghana. According to them, the stress and lifestyle of living in such countries makes impossible to share their problems with others. Here in Ghana you can strike a conversation with an unknown stranger and before you are aware he or she has shared with you all her family problems. The Guardian reported of Joyce Carol Vincent, a socialite young woman who died (on her bed) and was undiscovered for three years. Soon after discovery, the British behaviour of keeping to themselves became the topic of discussion. Is this the route the author wants us to take? Well, what I know is that this will never happen in the place I live in Ghana, though it will happen in residential areas.

The author described a situation where people gawked at her because she was wearing an afro-wig and here I was shocked because wig-wearing is not new, afro-wig included. This chapter antagonised other chapters in the section; for whereas the author wanted people to accept the fact that wearing afro wig was alright, which I know most Ghanaians already know, she also went on to complain about how poor Ghanaian women dress in terms of their hair and nails. 

Not even beauty contests escaped Alba's lens. And like most of the topics she managed to make it a male one:

Previously, I'd been against the idea of beauty pageants, considering them to be mere cattle markets for attractive skinny women to parade their skinny butts in front of salivating members of the male species.

Whether she is discussing the giving of chop money (upkeep money) or cat fight (where she discussed women fighting over a 'short' man - I don't know if the author is averse to short men) she made them male problems and accused them for being the cause.

If there is something that this book does, it is generalisations. It treats Ghanaians as a brainless, mannerless, amorphous group whose thinking and actions are backward; perhaps, the author's use of Neanderthals and Stone age show her perspectives and views. Consider this statement:

When it comes to customer services, Ghana is still somewhere in the Stone Age. Restaurants, chop bars, shops, renting property, utilities services, communications, you name it, the moment Ghanaians get thrown into the equation, expect the fun and games to being. [Part VII, Customer Services]

I will reiterate that the Ghanaian can be found in almost all of the topics mentioned: for instance who has not complained of the numerous feet-stomping, hands-clapping, microphone-bursting churches in their environs, or the speedily waltzing trotro and its ear-splitting fuzzy radios, or some of the poor music coming out these days. But do they merit the broad paintbrush treatment? The way it has been presented, it is akin to me saying that all Americans or Europeans are nudists when I see one nude walking the streets or that they are all serial killers when I read of one in the newspapers.

Perhaps, it is Alba's writing style in being judgmental whilst generalising that makes people take offense to these scathing issues. Who knows? she might be able to change one or two people with her straightforwardness. And there are those who minces no words in getting themselves heard. Or perhaps I am one of those Ghanaians afraid of taking responsibility, who always think they are right and who get angry when their country is being described as such. It should, however, be noted that there are several humorous descriptions in the book that one will enjoy. I couldn't help but laugh at some of Alba's descriptions of her experiences and observations. I will end with a list of some of her generalisations:

1. Ghanaians don't like taking responsibility for anything;
2. Ghanaians are always right
3. Ghanaians know everything
4. Ghanaian logic is very simple; whatever the Ghanaian does is logical because Ghanaians are doing it
5. The Ghanaian male was created solely for entertainment
6. Just like their men, Ghanaian women are also an interesting case study

___________

About Author: Alba Kunadu Sumprim was born in London. She has been writing for as long as she can remember and regularly flips through, with a wry smile, the stacks of notebooks that contain what can only be described as the melodrama of her teenage years. She graduated from the Cuban film school and earns her living writing radio dramas, screenplays and weekly social commentary column in The Daily Dispatch newspaper. She lives in Accra, where she is regularly accused of being Senegalese, Malian, Ivorian, Liberia or Zimbabwean, in fact, any other nationality but Ghanaian. She is adamant that she is just as Ghanaian as any other ... though imported. (Source: The Imported Ghanaian) Visit the author here.

115. In the Spirit of McPhineas Lata by Lauri Kubuitsile

In the Spirit of McPhineas Lata first published as part of the The Bed Book of Short Stories  by Modjaji Books SA in 2010 was shortlisted for the 12th Caine Prize for African Short Stories in 2011. It is also part of the Caine Prize anthology for 2011, To See the Mountain and other stories.

When alive McPhineas Lata was a lover of married women. He was an expert in making women happy, sexually. In fact, he died having sex with another woman. This makes the husbands in the village of Nokanyana an angry and bitter lot. They were therefore glad that he was dead. Consequently, whereas the women were

full of dramatic fainting and howls of grief echoing as far as the Ditlhako Hills

the men were so much so happy that some carried their own shovels to the cemetery and when the time came to cover up the body, it was carried out in record time. But another problem remained

a dead and buried McPhineas Lata didn't mean dead and buried McPhineas Lata memories. [emphasis not mine]

Every morning, the men see their women running to and humping the grave of McPhineas. Worried by this sight, they set out to investigate what made this dead man famous with their wives. They grilled Lata's friend: Bongo and Cliff but found nothing worthy of experimentation and subsequent use. The men of the village therefore set out to find it out for themselves. Each one was given a task to experiment on his wife and come out with the results for discussion during their meeting.

In the course of these investigations we found that the men had lost all that they used to do. Others were also clumsy and know of nothing, infuriating the women even more. But RraTebogo found something. He discovered that rubbing his wife's shoulder for three minutes followed by four strokes on the right worked on her. This he shared with his fellow men who also practised it on their wives.

With time and more learning and experimenting, visible changes were seen amongst the women. Less and less of them were trooping to McPhineas' grave. The women began speculating of McPhineas' ghosts inhibiting the bodies of their husbands. For there was no other means of explaining why all their husbands should change overnight; and all loving them in similar ways.

'He's here ... with us. I knew he couldn't just leave like that. McPhineas Lata has taken up the bodies of our husbands. He has taken spiritual possession of the husbands of Nokanyana.

Henceforth, both men and women live in anticipation of night to explore their new discoveries in between the sheets.

Written in a folktale-like narrative, In the Spirit of McPhineas tells the gradual decline in sexual life that beset marriages. In a convoluted way, Lauri advises men to be sexual explorers, to not relent on that which they used to do when they were young men. Reading this story after McEwan's On Chesil Beach (to be reviewed soon), I was surprised of the stark similarities and differences. The differences lie in the place of sex in marriage and the similarities, in the vindication of women and the freedom to pursue whatever they want. For this novel, written in a tone similar in refinedness as any of Mia Couto's short stories, requires the suspension of belief to appreciate. On the other hand, Lauri might also be testing the pulse of feminine adultery, though this direction of exploration did not go farther enough for any reaction or conclusion to be made.

In the Spirit of McPhineas, like Soulmates by Alex Smith is a different kind of short story. But having not read all the short stories in this shortlist I am not sure if this would be my favourite, though I must say I appreciated this very much. The story could be downloaded here.
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Brief Bio: Lauri Kubuitsile is a full time writer from Botswana. She has thirteen published works of fiction. She has also written two television series for Botswana Television and her short stories have been published in anthologies and literary magazines around the world. She has won numerous writing prizes including the Golden Baobab Prize junior category (2008/2009) and senior category in 2010, the BTA/AngloPlatinum Short Story Contest (South Africa- 2007) and the Botswana Ministry of Youth, Sports, and Culture’s Orange Botswerere Prize for Creative Writing (2007). She was recently chosen to be a writer in residence in El Gouna Egypt for the month of May 2010. She blogs at ‘Thoughts from Botswana’. (Source)

114. The Trouble with Nigeria by Chinua Achebe

Title: The Trouble with Nigeria

Author: Chinua Achebe

Genre: Non-Fiction/Socio-Political Articles

Publishers: Heinemann

Pages: 68

Year of First Publication: 1983

Country: Nigeria

Read for Amy's BAND

The Trouble with Nigeria is a book of frustration of what could be termed as the Nigerian (African) Condition. In this book, Chinua Achebe spelt out, without playing around with proverbs, aphorisms, and such  curlicued manner of speech, the reasons why Nigeria, and perhaps most African countries, are facing such ginormous and seemingly unsurmountable developmental challenges. In 'Where the Problem Lies', the author specifically identified and attributed the problem. He writes 

the problem with Nigeria is simply and squarely a failure of leadership. There is nothing basically wrong with the Nigerian land or climate or water or air or anything else. the Nigerian problem is the unwillingness or inability of its leaders to rise to the responsibility, to the challenge of personal example which are the hallmarks of true leadership. [1]

And what more could be said. In most homes in Ghana, the contents of this little book have been discussed by people who are not even aware of its existence. Thus, it could be deduced that the problems facing most developing countries are similar and intersecting.

Tribalism, illusion, indiscipline, corruption, and others were identified and discussed as the major problems facing or hindering the development of one of Africa's most populous country. Using succinct examples Achebe explains why tribalism leads to inefficiency, most especially when tribal people are hired for a position instead of competent and efficient people. Being modest of oneself is another problem the author identified. Here, Achebe seems to be proposing a complete behavourial change, advocating less talk and more work; he seems to prefer some form of conservatism whilst delivering on them than having inconceivable optimism and fantastical imaginations and doing nothing. The author describes it best:

One of the commonest manifestations of under-development is a tendency among the ruling elite to live in a world of make-believe and unrealistic expectations. This is the cargo cult mentality that anthropologists sometimes speak about - a belief by backward people that someday, without any exertion whatsoever on their own part, a fairy ship will dock in their harbour laden with every goody they have always dreamed of possessing. [9]

In 'Leadership, Nigerian-Style' Achebe compared statements from the biographies of two of Nigeria's veteran politicians: Dr. Azikiwe and Chief Awolowo. The underlying idea of both statements is the aggressive and wanton acquisition of unimaginable and superfluous wealth. This, according to Achebe, shows an

absence of intellectual rigour .. [11]

and a

tendency to pious materialistic wooolliness and self-centred pedestrianism [11]

Which produces not selfless leaders but leaders hunched with corruption. And this, Achebe continues (quoting James Booth), shows 'a poverty of thought ... [that] is in contrast to the expressions of ideology to be found even in the more informal works of Mboya, Nyere and Nkrumah!' 

This 'absence of objectivity and intellectual rigour' was even present at the nation's formation, Achebe argues, when the founding fathers chose On Unity and Faith as the new Nation's motto; concepts which are not absolute in themselves but 'conditional on their satisfaction of other purposes'. Achebe argued that such vague non-absolute concepts like Unity and Faith must be questioned: Unity to do what? And faith in what? He questioned why they never chose such absolute concepts such as Justice and Honesty which can not 'easily be directed to undesirable end'.

Even concepts such as 'patriotism' is questioned. He writes

Spurious patriotism is one of the hallmarks of Nigeria's privileged classes whose generally unearned positions of sudden power and wealth must seem unreal even to themselves. To lay the ghost of their insecurity they talk patriotically. [16]

Several issues germane to the development of a country are discussed in this book. He mentions the issue of traffic and the way and manner in which road-users break all the rules. Such is the rampancy of their acts that to be seen to be doing the right thing, such as being in your lane rather than follow those using unauthorised routes, is tantamount to being folly, a stranger, or a combination of these. And this he attributed to egoism; each person thinking of his own self interest at the expense of the others. At the waiting-lot, the one who comes late thinks he is the only one in a hurry and therefore would push all others to get onto the car, when it arrives. The most indiscipline of them all are the leaders, who think that they are above the law and the people, behaving like the animals in that Orwellian novel. They seek preferentially treatment anywhere they go. Even in traffic, they move when the traffic shows red and dare that policeman who tries to arrest him. By their act, they give stamp and legalise illegalities, authorising the citizens to follow suit.

The most revealing topic of all is the chapter on corruption. In this chapter, Achebe presented graphic details of the amount of money that are siphoned from the system in the form of plain theft by politicians, inflated contract figures, salary payment to ghost-workers, and more. He demonstrates, comparatively, what it amounts to and what edifices that could have been built with such resources. Such was his frustration that when the then Nigerian president Shehu Shagari said that corruption in Nigeria has not as yet 'reached alarming proportions', Achebe responded:

My frank and honest opinion is that anybody who can say that corruption in Nigeria has not yet become alarming is either a fool, a crook or else does not live in this country. [37]

In just over sixty pages Achebe defined and showed what he thinks is the trouble with Nigeria, but which has become trouble with Africa. This is a book that's worth the read by all who want to cause changes and lead this continent to achieve its potential.

Having not read this book, I wrote an article on this blog on July 07, 2009, that the reader might also be interested. I titled it Facing our Demons, where I discuss the major problems facing us as a country, Ghana. And I was shocked to see the overlapping causes.

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Brief Bio: Read here

ImageNation Rating: 4.0/6.0

113. What Molly Knew by Tim Keegan

Tim Keegan's What Molly Knew was shortlisted for the 12th Caine Prize for African Writing Prize in 2011. It was part of the crime anthology 'Bad Company' published by Pan Macmillan SA in 2008. It has also been included in the Caine Prize for African Writing 2011 anthology To See the Mountain and other stories.

What Molly Knew is a story that is difficult to define. It's is a crime story but not as we know the whodunit genre to be. Here the crime is not solved and the victim or the individual who stands to gain from exposing or getting the murder solved destroyed the only evidence involved; and the investigative part too is not shown. It is, however, a typical story whose plot could be predicted to a large extent once the characters and their associations or relationships with each other are known.

Molly's is currently married to Rollo, after the death of her husband. Molly's daughter Sarah sees the step-father as an intruder, or so Molly thinks. Then came along Tommie Nobrega, a psychologist into the Retiefs' household, who married Sarah against the wishes of Molly and to some extent Rollo. From there on the relationship between mother and daughter became strained.

Molly also suffers from domestic abuse and has chosen to remain with her abuser because of fear of becoming financially destitute. Molly seems to support the husband ahead of the daughter even though the husband isn't perfect and does things to her. She seems not have listened to her daughter or inquired about her problems and what was happening when Sarah was living with them. She defined all of Sarah's abhorrence of Rollo, the 'gulf of misunderstanding and mistrust, charge and recrimination', that existed between she and Sarah as a resentment of the 'speed with which her mother remarried'.

Alright, Rollos wasn't perfect: he drank too much; he stayed out at night playing darts at Wally's Bar in Koeberg Road; he'd visited prostitutes in his time, had girlfriends. And he had a temper, used his fists when he was boozed up, used foul language. The neighbours sometimes called the police in. But what was she supposed to do? Move out and starve? Go and live in a shelter? At her age?

And this is from Molly's perspectives.

Then Sarah died. Shot through her head, from behind. And Molly pointed accusing fingers at Tommie, Sarah's husband. It could only be Tommie, who else had access to the third floor? And who separated her from her daughter? Besides, Tommie is not from the country. He's a Mozambican. He is also a cross between black and white parents, but leaned more toward black than white. He also always wore ANC shirts. Above all he's a psychologists who knows how to convince people. But Inspector Duvenage has no concrete evidence to work with. Not a single mark to begin investigation as Tommie has been keeping to his script and the neighbours, though collaborative, haven't provided any clue yet.

But Molly was to find an envelope addressed to Rollo Retief under a pile of decomposing mowed grass. In this envelope is a letter, written two days before Sarah's murder, addressing Rollo. The letter warns Rollo to confess what she did to Sarah when she was young. It also threatens or mentions a confrontation in the presence of Molly, so that she - Molly - would know what he did to her. And finally, Rollo should ask for forgiveness so that Sarah would be free. With this piece of evidence found, one would have thought that the case will be solved or that it will lead to it and Molly would become free of oppression and abuse. But Molly destroyed it. All through the story, we see that Sarah had something to tell Molly but Molly was not listening. She preferred to lose a daughter than a means of sustenance.

What Molly Knew is a story that makes you question the reasons behind certain actions. Was Molly justified in choosing herself over her daughter? Was she justified in living under the complete control of a husband who, not only dictates to her, but also abuse her consistently? And why didn't she walk out finally when she found the evidence that will link her husband to the crime? And since her daughter was a nurse, financial concern alone could not be the reason. The reason could be that Molly, herself, might be suffering from a psychological problem that has transformed the fear she had for her husband to absolute reverence. Besides, from Rollo's conversations with Molly it was pretty clear that he considered Sarah a hindrance and her death, a good riddance. Here I am reminded of a Dean Koontz's book I read, False Memory, where the characters, under psychological control, worked against themselves. 

I found it difficult to connect to any particular character in the story. Both viewpoints from which the story is told did not give much insight into what was unfurling. The sad thing with Molly's behaviour and thought-trends is that they are real and present in most women's life. Initially, she was pitiful but all sense of sympathy fizzled out when the reason for tolerating Rollo's abusive behaviour was exposed. Inspector Duvenage was no where near solving the case and had no clue. We only get to know what he feels about such cases as Sarah's death and that was all. Molly, around whom the majority of the story revolved was dull and almost stupid in behaviour. I almost felt like pushing her to act.  For those interested in the Caine Prize shortlisted stories, the story could be downloaded here.

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Brief Bio: Tim Keegan was born in Cape Town in 1952. He matriculated at Bishops and then majored in history at the University of Cape Town. He obtained his PhD in African History from the University of London. After living and working in the UK and America he spent five years in the African Studies Institute at Wits University before going to the History Department at the University of the Western Cape. In the mid-nineties he left his post as an associate professor there to continue research and writing. He has published a long list of articles and reviews in academic journals and many chapters in academic publications. Around 2002 he began writing fiction, not very seriously at first, but with increasing enthusiasm and commitment. (Source)

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