Stuarts' Field Guide to National Parks & Game Reserves - Namibia, Botswana, Zimbabwe, Zambia & Malawi by Chris Stuart, Mathilde Stuart

Not so long ago I was given the opportunity to get a peek at Stuarts' Field Guide to National Parks & Game Reserves of Namibia | Botswana | Zimbabwe | Zambia | Malawi, which I reviewed for FMR. This handy guide was written by Chris and Mathilde Stuart, who clearly have a great passion for our continent's wild places.

The guide is brimful of detailed maps and content that show how many wonderful parks and conservation areas these countries have, and will prove useful to anyone planning a trip. Many diverse, contrasting environments are to be found here, from coastlines to desert, and river deltas to savanna grasslands. Great pictures too, to give a teaser of what sorts of wildlife and vegetation you can expect. Many well-known areas such as Etosha, Chobe, Mana Pools, Victoria Falls, and more are featured. 

This guide highlights the fact that conservation walks a tightrope between land usage – we must consider that people have been using natural resources for thousands of years – and also touches on how we need to mitigate the damage we cause now, with poaching being a very serious issue, as well as illegal timber harvesting, overgrazing and encroachment of human habitation – all these can have devastating, long-term effects on the environment. It's tricky to balance consumption with conservation – and these are challenges of land usage that will always need to be addressed. 

The book is divided into two sections: one part dealing with the natural history, and the second providing an image gallery of some of the commonly occurring wildlife and vegetation – which is great for a quick identification. This latter part is divided into mammals, birds, reptiles, amphibians and trees. Handy sidebars in the first part of the guide offer tips and further commentary, and also warn if the reserve you wish to visit falls within a malaria or tsetse fly area or whether rabies might even be an issue. Warnings are also for the lack of cellphone reception in remote areas – connectivity often being something we city dwellers take for granted. 

The wilds of Africa are offer a harsh, unforgiving landscape, yet one also filled with incredible, awe-inspiring beauty. Here be lions, quite literally – so if you wish to explore truly wild areas, it's best to be prepared and be aware of what's going on around you at all times. I found the natural history information particularly fascinating, and feel it will most certainly inform travellers, especially when it comes to selecting routes and deciding on which accommodation options will be suitable – whether you wish to tough it out or rather stay in a luxury tented camp. 

The authors also give an indication of some of the plants and wildlife you'll most commonly see in particular areas. Equally important is information and advice about the road conditions, but also to take note when the dry or rainy seasons are, as these may also affect your mobility in whichever destination you visit. What I loved the best about this book is that it gives an introduction to parts of southern Africa that I don't know well, and I most certainly wish to visit before I shuffle off this mortal coil. With such a wealth of natural beauty, it's very tempting to forego overseas travel entirely and stay local – there's far too much to see and do in a single lifetime.

Peacocks & Picathartes – Reflections on Africa's Birdlife by Rupert Watson

When I was 12, most kids my age were into ... well, whatever it was that they were into. Me, on the other hand, I was into birdwatching. Armed with a brand-spanking new copy of the Roberts Birds of Southern Africa, I set about figuring out the names of the birds around me. It was something of an obsession. And while today I have the trusty Sasol eBirds of Southern Africa app, not much has changed. Friends and family still look at me like I'm a little sad and strange when I interrupt the discussion to go, "Oh, look, a Southern Boubou."

So it goes without saying that I was overjoyed when Rupert Watson's Peacocks & Picathartes: Reflections on Africa's Birdlife arrived on my doorstep. Although he was born in England, Watson has lived in Kenya for a large portion of his life, and his love for, nay fascination with, our beautiful continent's birdlife shines through in every word. I must also give a shout out to illustrator Peter Blackwell, whose characterful graphite drawings of various birds are used as chapter headers, and add much joy to the book.

There is no denying how special Africa and its natural heritage is, and there are many species found here and nowhere else. Climate change and the impact of human activities on the environment, be it encroaching agriculture, urbanisation, and forestry – these all are massive threats to our natural biodiversity. By highlighting birds, their habitats and distribution, Watson reminds us of the fragile balance in nature.

Watson maintains a factual account of the birds' habits and characteristics, peppered with often amusing anecdotes of his own adventures in seeing some of the rarer species, particularly the occasions he sought out the Congo Peacocks and Picathartes that lend their names to the book's title. He divides the book into sections that focus on birds that are found only in Africa, those that are mainly in Africa, and then six species that are iconic, such as the Egyptian Goose many of us love to hate; the Udzungwa Forest Partridge; the Congo Peacock; the Bateleur; and not to be outdone, the Hadada Ibis whose raucous calls many of us know all too well at 5am on a Sunday when we'd rather be sleeping in.

If birdwatching and conservation are your passions, then don't miss out on this book. 

Predators by Michaelbrent Collings

Predators by Michaelbrent Collings is one of those books I suspect would have done better as a live-action thriller on screen or a graphic novel rather than novel. I admit my interest was piqued when the author approached me to do the review, since I am an African and have done the whole 'African safari' thing. So I guess I'd be kinda in the know. And I get it – I don't often have this sort of novel set in Africa land on my desk.

This is survival horror, brutal and bloody. So if that's not your cuppa joe, step away from this book. This is not for you.

We kick the story off with a cast of characters, many of them women who have been damaged by the men in their lives, and they're all off on safari with all manner of dysfunction playing in the background. Except the safari doesn't quite go as planned, and the survivors end up being hunted down by a ravening pack of preternaturally vicious hyenas that made me wonder if these hyenas weren't perhaps demon possessed or something, because amateur conservationist that I am, I'm not hundreds sold on the idea of hyenas behaving quite the way they do in this book. But anyhow, this is a work of fiction, so I'm going to suspend disbelief. People die and the survivors are pushed to their physical and psychological limits. Gruesomely. Rescue isn't likely. The end.

I *get* that the author intended to show a bunch of women being strong in the face of adversity. I *get* that he did a lot of research to make this feel like an 'authentic' African experience. But as an African reader, the whole time I felt like this was a non-African author trying too hard to create an authentic experience for me as a reader, and it didn't quite hit the mark. Don't get me wrong, Collings is a strong writer, but it didn't quite hang together for me in Predators. Whether it was the lack of motivations for certain events that happened (like the catalyst for when things really go wrong at the start that's never truly explained) or for me what felt a bit like contrived back-stories for each woman whose life is defined by the fact that she is hard done by the men in her life, I remain lukewarm at best. If this had been a film, that focused on the act of survival and perhaps a sisterhood that grows out of adversity without dwelling on the demons of the past, this might've worked better for me. And also, just a note, from a technical aspect, this book had a bucketload of little typos – so a more thorough proofread could have helped.

This is not a bad book, just not quite my cuppa, and if survival horror is your thing, you're probably going to ignore the other aspects that didn't work for me.

The Impossible Five by Justin Fox

If I had a Gerald Durrell award on hand to give to Justin Fox for his book The Impossible Five, I'd hand him one for every species he investigates during the course of his research. Justin is one of those rare beasts who can handle fairly serious subject matter (conservation) in a way that is not only highly engaging and sensitively handled, but also filled with touches of humour (I don't think I'll forget his Bugs Bunny asides related to the riverine rabbit in a hurry).

The premise of The Impossible Five is simple: Everyone who goes looking for wildlife sightings in southern Africa seems awfully hung up about the Big Five (lion, leopard, buffalo, rhino and elephant) that Justin felt driven to explore what he'd term his "Impossible Five" of species that are next to impossible to see in the wild. After some thought, he decided that these, for him, are the Cape mountain leopard, the pangolin, the aardvark, white lion and the riverine rabbit.

Not only are these critters elusive, but their continued existence remains in the balance thanks to our own species' continued activity on this planet. 

Justin spent weeks in the field, getting to know folks whose passion it is to track and research these animals – from Quinton the leopard man, who walks the length and breadth of the Cederberg, to Linda, for whom the white lions of Timbavati represent something altogether spiritual and magical.

At the heart of this book lies one word: empathy – something that we as a species have collectively lost when it comes to how we interact with our environment. We forget that our ongoing survival is intimately tied into the ultimate fate of the wild things and remaining wilderness. 

This is the kind of book that makes me want to pack my bag and go visit some of the locations that had such an impact on me as a child – and I'm sorely overdue a visit to the Cederberg, where my own brush with a leopard was limited to finding a massive paw print superimposed on my own tracks once I'd turned around along a track I'd been hiking.

Justin motivates us to become patrons and keepers of our wild places, to forge a deeper connection to the world around us and gain an intrinsic understanding of the interconnectedness of all things. This really is a wonderful book, and its author is a keen observer of people and animals, as well as being a gifted storyteller. If you enjoyed Douglas Adams and Mark Carwardine's Last Chance to See then most certainly add this one to your collection. Or, if you're like me, and you grew up on a steady diet of 50/50, Gerald Durrell and James Herriot ... then don't miss this one.

In Conversation with Ezeiyoke Chukwunonso

An anthology that's worth looking out for when it comes for available, Lights Out: Resurrection features a crop of African authors of horror and dark speculative fiction, edited by Wole Tabali. Today I welcome Ezeiyoke Chukwunoso for a little Q&A.

I realise we know very little about each other. Tell me more about you and what you love writing.

I am Ezeiyoke Chukwunonso, a charter member of African Speculative Society. My collection of short stories, Haunted Grave and Other Stories was published by Parallel Universe Publications during August this year. Prior to that, I have published stories in anthologies such as Emanation: 2+2=5, Emanation: Foray into Forever, Future Lovecraft, Lost Tales from the Mountain: Halloween Anthology Vol. II., African Roar and in so many other places. I was shortlisted in IdeasTap Inspires: Writers' Centre Norwich Writing competition, Ghana Poetry Prize, and Quickfox Poetry Competition. 

I love to write horror, fantasy and science fiction stories although not hard sci-fi. I write literary fiction too but tend to love genre fiction more.

Apart from fiction writing, I am a literary critic and I investigate literature with the lens of a philosopher. I developed a penchant for this during my BA where I majored in philosophy. I discovered that most of contemporary African Literature is useful, functionalist. It is an art that has a socio-political or anthropological relevance. If it did not tend to fight colonialism, it was post-colonialism or it was written with a moral education in view. Practically, art for art's sake, aestheticism was an endangered species. Critics like Achebe, Senghor, Ngugi wa Thiong’o favoured this. Achebe said ‘I would be quite satisfied if my novels (especially the ones I set in the past) did no more than teach my readers that their past – with all its imperfections was not one long night of savagery from which the first Europeans acting on God’s behalf delivered them. Perhaps what I write is applied art as distinct from pure. But who cares?’ And I discovered that that sort of metaphysical assumption made literature predictable and more so hindered aestheticism and the development of genre fiction in Africa for a long time. My writing and research were to propose a better metaphysical assumption that will foster the growth of literature in which art for art sake is prior to functionalism. I have published essays about this in Episteme Journal, and Savvy Journal of Contemporary African Arts.

How does living in Africa inform your writing? Tell me more about your environment, and a day in your life. 

Most of my stories are based in Enugu State in Nigeria where I grew up. In as much as fiction relies on the imagination, I often like to write about setting I am familiar with, a place I can manipulate. I like to have a strong sense of a place in my writing. Apart from the setting, my writing is often influenced by the oral and mythical thoughts of the Igbo people in Nigeria, mainly with regard to religion. I have been fascinated with religion since I was a child, once I was in the seminary hoping to become a Catholic priest. *Laughing* Religion in Nigeria and its superstition still hooks me more than ever although now intellectually. And it is this superstition and the fear inherent in it that I explore often in my horror or fantasy writing.

I currently live in Manchester. My house is near a park. I love the park. I often sit there watching people playing with their dogs. I am still wondering why I haven’t owned a dog yet.

What are you reading at the moment?

I am reading Making Wolf by Tade Thompson. I recently reviewed his Rosewater and I fall in love with his writing especially the pacing, quick page turning. Azanian Bridges by Nick Wood is what I am currently reading whenever I am commuting on the bus. I like reading on the bus, makes the journey quicker. I will be reviewing it soon. I just finished reading Dark Lullaby by Jessica Palmer, I am writing the review currently. Horrorology edited by Stephen Jones is on my bedside. I read bits of it to sleep.

Tell us more about your story as it appears in Lights Out: Resurrection.

"Eaters of Flesh" was inspired by a real event. A relative was undergoing a depression that came with some mental issue. There was this allusion among her family members that what was wrong with her was a demonic attack. Seeking for a scientific medical aid was taken out of the option. Anyway, she later met a psychologist, had a professional help and recovered. The incident, however, stayed with me and formed the basis for the story, "Eaters of Flesh".  The story appeared first in my short story collection, Haunted Grave and Other Stories. 

What are you writing at the moment?

I am working on my debut novel. The first chapter of the novel actually is the story that appeared in the Lights Out: Resurrection. In between the novel, I research on my philosophical essays on literature. I am writing a couple of short stories too. 

In Conversation with Raymond Elenwoke

I've recently had the pleasure of being included in a horror anthology of fabulous African authors, Lights Out: Resurrection that was edited by Wole Talabi, so I thought I'd take a little time to get to know my fellow authors. Today it's Raymond Elenwoke who's over for a little Q&A...

I realise we know very little about each other. Tell me more about you and what you love writing.

My name is Raymond Elenwoke, and I am a Nigerian writer. I am also an auditor and financial consultant, currently residing in Port Harcourt, Rivers State, Nigeria. I love writing stories that explore a variety of genres, mainly horror, thriller, speculative fiction and sci-fi.

How does living in Africa inform your writing? Tell me more about your environment, and a day in your life.

For me, the phrase “living in Africa” feels very vague, because Africa is too big and diverse to be classified as a single place. I live in Port Harcourt in Rivers State, Nigeria, and even then, living there is very different from living in, say, Elele, in the same Rivers State, because these towns/cities have very distinct personalities.

Having said that, living in Port Harcourt is an exercise in patience, both with yourself and your environment. This has affected my writing in more ways than one. In the sense that I am (still) learning to infuse the identity of the town I set my stories into the story, no matter the genre. My environment helps inform my thinking, both in terms of character development and in terms of setting. Being someone who learned his trade from consuming books and writing advice from foreign (Western) authors/movies, living in Port Harcourt helps me realise that the police procedures in Phoenix, Arizona or Luton, United Kingdom are very different from the police procedures in Port Harcourt, Nigeria. This helps me also realise that my characters will have certain challenges unique to not just the environment in which I set them, but also unique to the culture of the place AND time the story is set in.

My environment is quite dynamic. I may start the day at my desk and end it in a client’s office halfway across town, or in class, studying for my professional exams. My day usually starts at about 4.30 am, and after my morning devotion, I have to study for a bit before training/exercising for a few minutes, and then leaving the house for work. If I get to work early enough, I can write a bit, if not I have to wait until the close of work to be able to let my imagination run wild. In between this, when I am on break I could read a story or two, or watch a show to relax.

What are you reading at the moment?

At the moment, I am studying for the final round of my professional exams, so this has limited my literature reading time. However, one I am reading now is Breakers by Edward W Robertson, which is a surprisingly good book about the end of the world. Before this I read the amazing Doctor Sleep by the effervescent Stephen King, and I also reviewed the excellent Rosewater by Tade Thompson, published by Apex Publications, the smartest story about an alien invasion I have ever come across. Pre-order it as it comes out in November 15, 2016. You can read my review of it here.

So is it courage or strength, And is that what I’m waiting for… I once said Rosewater would make me wax lyrica...

In addition to my professional reading, I am reading, you guessed it, Lights Out: Resurrection. Amazing collection. Seriously.

Tell us more about your story as it appears in Lights Out: Resurrection.

My story is titled "Koi-Koi". The title is derived from the sound any person who attended Boarding School in Nigeria will most likely recognise. The story revolves around Lady Koi Koi, the Secondary School Legend.

When I was approached to write a story for the collection, I had no idea what I was going to write, to be honest. I saw the email on Monday morning at the office, and realised that I had until Friday to write and submit a story. Even though I had nothing, I joyfully accepted the story, because I had been waiting for the literary event. I had a story that had been swimming beneath the surface,so I started writing. 80% into the story and about two to the deadline, I realised this was not the story for the collection, so I left it unfinished, and spent most of the day letting the story tell itself to me. When it was ready, I set about discovering it.

Koi-Koi is an imagining of origin of the Lady Koi Koi mythos, because why not? When I first heard the tale, all I could picture were legs in a pair of black heels. No body. Just from the knees down. There were more ghostly/supernatural tales from my time to choose from, but this one…this one had a silent menace about it. You always seemed to hear it, only in the dark, only at night, but you never saw it. Those who did…well, I would imagine they were either dead or too far gone t really tell us about their experience….

*sinister laugh*

What are you writing at the moment?

At the moment, I am working on a number of projects.

First off I am working on a serial story I started writing when I was studying in London a few years back. It is time for the story to come home.

I am also working jointly on a project with another amazing writer friend of mine, Seun Odukoya. The project involves Sango and Amadioha, the Yoruba and Igbo gods of thunder.

I am also finishing my novel, Rising Night, a story that has detectives, angels, demons and yes, ninjas.

The Rise of African Speculative Fiction – in conversation with Geoff Ryman and Tade Thompson

A while back I let on that I'm one of the South African spokespeeps for the newly unveiled African Speculative Fiction Society. I'm going to kick off here and say that it's about high time that we got the ball rolling here in Africa. We have a vast oral tradition, not to mention a melting pot of cultures that are all uniquely African, and for too long we've been languishing under the misconception that African SFF fiction is somehow subpar. Point is it's not. When I edited Short Story Day Africa's Terra Incognita anthology, I was blown away by the beautiful wordsmiths and their stories I encountered.

Those of you who've been following my doings over the past few years will see how I've been fighting for the recognition of African SFF fiction here in my corner for what feels like forever. And let me tell you it's absolutely awesome to have others with whom I can now connect.

So, when Geoff Ryman roped me into the ASFS to help with the establishment of Africa's own speculative fiction awards, the Nommos, I jumped at the opportunity. Here's something I'm really passionate about, and I'm really happy to have my fellow ASFS folks over today (Geoff Ryman and Tade Thompson) to chat about this endeavour.

Nerine Dorman: I was a bit taken aback to be asked to get involved with the ASFS, mainly because I feel I've been fighting in the trenches here in my particular corner of Africa to try promote speculative fiction. What was the final tipping point for you to decide to get involved to help set up the Nommos?


Geoff Ryman: You know, I have no memory what kicked it off. I was was reading stuff on the African Fantasy Reading Group and just thought 'sod it, we need an award and it will have to be entirely in Africa. Just keep everybody else out, me included. I had just come back from Nairobi and had loved the writers there, their mood of owing so little to everybody else, just growing their own wild sort of beatnik scene. And I was very impressed talking to Moses Kilolo and Richard Oduor Oduku, how they had got Jalada together by talking through all the issues first. So I just starting chatting online with the group, and all those good people who formed the Awards Discussion Group came on board. At first its was difficult. We all came with assumptions about how it would work and insecurities. Sometimes it seemed like we had all agreed only to have that agreement unravel. We took the discussion out of the open reading group and made it a private message group but it never got too heated... the odd hot moment. But we came up with some lovely stuff. The definitions of different kinds of Africans. The realisation we didn't want a panel of experts choosing for us, nor did we want a fan voting award like the Hugos, which had been in trouble. 

I really really wanted it to be in the gift of the African Fantasy Reading Group – but I had to admit that even in my view the Nebula Awards which allow the writers to nominate and then to vote the winners seems a really good model. At that point we all got excited about the possibilities of a pro and semi-pro African SF body in terms of other things that are needed. Like. A really good critical review of Arican SFF. Like, an outreach to French, Portuguese, Arabic SFF and most especially to local language SFF. The conversations were thrilling because you could really feel the whole thing come together. Yes! This is going to WORK! The other thing was sending out the invitations to get a solid core of invited members to make sure that there really WAS an society... though it was the needs of the URL that finally settled the name. The other great moment was when we saw Stephen Embleton's designs for the leaflet and website and thought YEAH. And the the thrill when Ivor Hartmann told us Tom Ilube had promised four years of prize money. So many exciting, fun, moments. I'm an old guy and I'm really lucky to be part of something this enrolling at this stage of my life.


Tade Thompson: I just took a look at the original Nommo Awards discussion and there are over 3500 messages. A lot of people contributed including Wole Talabi, Masimba Musodza, Shadrek Chikoti, Ayodele Arigbabu, Mame Diene and more. Sometimes individuals had to take a time out from the discussions (I know I did), and others did not return. It's not an easy thing to come to a compromise. I don't see the heated nature of the discussions as a negative thing. To me it meant everybody was thinking and voices were not being silenced. One of my concerns was for the prize to avoid funding from the West, for example. Piper, tune, you know what I mean. The definition of what was an African we found particularly problematic. Hopefully, we've come up with a working definition.


ND: What makes African speculative fiction unique, in your opinion? I've found through my editing that Africa's rich oral tradition of telling folk stories has a habit of creeping in and flavouring rather beautifully. This was particularly apparent when I was working on SSDA's Terra Incognita anthology.


GR: God, so many things make it unique... its relationship to the West, its relationship to the traditional cultures, the fantastic cultural diversity. The power that comes from being where the action is... that's where the novel goes always, and Africa is where the action is right now. In the West people explore tensions between conflicting ways of being like religion VERSUS science. In Africa monotheism, trad beliefs, science all share the same space like butterflies on a bougainvillea. It's about overlap and co-existence, not stress. Also Africans in our out of diaspora just do not do genre. 

They write crime and fantasy, paint, make films, graphic design, are in a band and they do it all well.

The great untapped source of voice, difference, interest is language. Africans have just his second stopped looking to the West for validation, writing in a style that the West can understand. Stay tuned for flavourful prose more related to Sheng, Pidgin, Kiswahili or translations into English form material imagined in the language of the people who live it. So, language, which in the end equals diversity. 


TT: From my perspective, developing African SFF needs at least three elements: Respectable awards, a tradition of magazines to serve as venues for emerging talent, and a healthy publishing industry. Omenana (to me) opens the magazine tradition up. The Nommos should help give people something to aspire to. 

The ASFS helps to unite people like you, Nerine, and Chinelo for example, who have been fighting individually to raise the SFF profile on the continent. I think together we can get more done.

To me there should not be "African" sci-fi/fantasy any more than there should be an "African" writer. None of those qualifications should be necessary. We are just writers of SFF who have a relationship with the continent. Individually, we often have relationships with other places as well (for example, I have equal roots in South London). There is also a conflation of African SFF with Afrofuturism that I see sometimes in articles, blog posts etc.   They are not the same thing, although there are areas of intersection. 


ND: What are some of the long-term goals you foresee for the ASFS and speculative fiction on the continent in general?


GR: An anthology of nominated works. A programme with the French, Arabic, Portuguese and local language worlds. Publications in Luo on one page facing the page of English translation so that local languages can be sold bound in with the English. An expanding awards programme to recognise the outstanding auteur cinema springing up outside and maybe inside Nollywood. A searchable database of published novels, stories, graphic novels. A programme of Wikipedia maintenance to keep everybody's bios and bibliographies available and accurate. Programmes to encourage developing writer. BUT ABOVE ALL ELSE. Developing the audience in terms of both numbers and its expectations. Giving African writers Africans to write for, in genres that are controlled by African readers. So I hope the pros don't leave behind the 1000+ African Readers on Facebook. I hope both groups grow together, readers and writers. They are on the same side. 


TT: African speculative fiction or African Sci-Fi/Fantasy isn't unique. It is writers exploring the imagination and writing fantastical fiction either emanating from science or the mystical (or both), taking their environment and cultural reality into consideration. This is exactly what SFF writers do everywhere. In this regard, there is no difference between Nnedi Okorafor, Aliette de Bodard and Cordwainer Smith. That the cultures from which the writers emerge have differences does not matter.  Storytelling differences can reflect cultures, but that's to be expected. When I started reading Haruki Murakami my mind all but exploded. I never thought, though, that I'm reading "A Japanese Writer". To me part of the job of the ASFS is to demonstrate that we're here and we're like SFF writers everywhere, to bring fucking quality to the party, and mindpain to the haters!






BIOS

GEOFF RYMAN is senior lecturer in School of Arts, Languages and Cultures at the University of Manchester. He is the author of several works of science fiction and literary fiction as well as short stories author and an interactive web novel. His work has won numerous awards including the John W. Campbell Memorial Award, the Arthur C. Clarke Award (twice), the James W. Tiptree Memorial Award, the Philip K. Dick Memorial Award, and the British Science Fiction Association Award (twice) and the Canadian Sunburst Award (twice). In 2012 he won a Nebula Award for his Nigeria-set novelette 'What We Found'.  His novel AIR was listed in THE GUARDIAN's 1000 Novels You Must Read. 253 is listed by Carmen Maria Machado on the GRANTA website as the best book of 1998.

He has a Leverhulme International Academic Fellowship to research the rise of science fiction and fantasy in Africa.  He also organises two reading groups of mainstream African Fiction, both called ARG!  One meets in London the first Sunday of every month 4.30 pm at BOOK AND KITCHEN bookshop. The Manchester Group meets the third Tuesday 6.30 pm at HABESHA restaurant.


TADE THOMPSON lives and works in the south of England. His background is in medicine, psychiatry and anthropology. His first novel MAKING WOLF won the Golden Tentacle Award at The Kitshies. His most recent works are the short story THE APOLOGISTS in Interzone #266, DECOMMISSIONED in the NewCon Press anthology 'Crises and Conflicts', and the novel ROSEWATER from Apex Books.

The Sol Plaatje European Union Vol IV Poetry Anthology review

Title: The Sol Plaatje European Union Vol IV Poetry Anthology
Selected by: Ingrid de Kock, Johann de Lange and Goodenough Mashego
Publisher: Jacana Media, 2014

Once again, I’m going way out of my usual comfort zone because, well, I believe in deviating from the norm from time to time so that I can get a fresh perspective on writing. Part of my BA studies (at time of writing) entails looking at other genres, which obviously includes poetry. This slim volume is the result of the annual European Union Sol Plaatje Poetry Award that, in the spirit of remembering political and social activist Sol Plaatje, anthologises the strongest entries submitted for the award.

Huge disclaimer: I have only recently started reading poetry again. The reason is that for a good while I fancied myself allergic to poetry, which possibly had a lot to do with the fact that I’d seen so much awful poetry posted online or mailed to me by well-meaning folks who say “well, you’re an author, tell me what you think of my poem” that I made a point of avoiding all poetry.

Stupid. I know.

Writing a good poem is difficult. Within the space of a few verses you must encapsulate an essence and convey an idea, emotions, a thought, in deft brushstrokes. Whether you employ free verse or iambic pentameter and rhyming couplets, your words are measured, carefully considered.

But getting back to this anthology, I’m also going to touch on why poetry matters, and especially in this day and age. Poems are snapshots, moments frozen in time that capture the essence of the poet’s perception. Poems are an act of communication, yes, but they’re also an art form, and for those very reasons, this collection is important because it expresses a cross-section of perception of African writers who have made observations, not only about themselves but their milieu. And we need these memories so we can construct a deeper image of our continent and its people. Stories matter, no matter whether they are a scrap of words or an epic saga.

It’s impossible for me to give a blow-by-blow breakdown of every poem collected here, suffice to say that each is a gem. Some resonate more with me than others. Perhaps it’s because there isn’t enough shared cultural space, but most importantly, these writers have words that have been captured and lent a little permanence and evoke often visceral images. Mostly, this is the sort of collection that you can return to, dip into the words, turn them over like small stones that catch flashes of sunlight.

The Bushman Winter Has Come by Paul John Myburgh #review

Title: The Bushman Winter Has Come
Author: Paul John Myburgh
Publisher: Penguin Books, 2014

Up until recently, the Bushmen of the Kalahari Desert roamed “the Great Sand Face”, living as their ancestors had for millennia. Anthropologist Paul John Myburgh expressed his love for Africa and spent seven years wandering with a small band of /Gwikwe Bushmen. The Bushman Winter Has Come is the result of this sojourn.

If you pick up this book and expect a linear story from start to finish, you will be disappointed. If you expect a historical account, forget about it. What you will find is a collection of Myburgh’s impressions and understanding of the way of life of the Bushmen.

Fact and fable commingle in a glorious celebration of survival in a harsh environment and a record of the cosmology of the “First People”. Through this, Myburgh explores that which makes us human and our individual relationships with the environment that has broader repercussions on a bigger scale. In addition, he brings us a record and an understanding of a way of life that is now relegated to the past.

He writes: “The great sadness is not the passing of a people; it is our failure to remember, our failure to bring forward the knowledge, our failure to consecrate the wisdom and so redeem the sacrifice of those who came before us.”

That sense of irrevocable shift in time and place underpins this book, which is at times dreamlike, and others a record of how our ancestors lived.

Myburgh explores the world of his /Gwikwe band with the knowledge of what lies in wait for them, and in that his telling of their lives is tinged with sorrow, for that final change when the people make the decision to move to the settlement is unavoidable.

The world changes and those who are unable or unwilling to adapt will fall by the wayside. While Myburgh’s writing style is uneven, this is nonetheless a haunting treatise that deserves to be treasured. He evokes a sense of place, as well as the spirit of an age, and it is clear that he writes from the heart – and that’s what matters.

What’s African anyway?

I said to myself that I was going to keep my mouth shut about this. Really. Because this old argument has been doing the rounds in my immediate writerly circles for ages now. But some stuff’s been said by folks in the media recently that picked open the scabs, so I’m going to have my say and then be done with it. I'm also glad that I've waited a week to calm the hell down before posting this (and removing all the F-bombs).

Firstly, there’s the notion of what constitutes being African, and writing African issues. Don’t get me wrong, I firmly believe that all people who reside in Africa, or who were born here, should have a voice. But … And here’s the really big BUT. This voice should be inclusive.

We need to ask ourselves why many South African fantasy, horror and SF writers look to getting published overseas rather than locally. Oh, it’s never said out in the open, but I’ve – excuse the colloquialism – picked up enough stompies. (Reading between the lines, for you folks overseas.) We have a wealth of amazing talent in this country, and what’s being done to develop it? Not much.

Oh, you’re not literary enough.

You’re not writing about “African” issues.

Your ancestors were not born in Africa.

You are not African enough.

Major awards or grants go to writers who create the “right” kind of “African” fiction or poetry. So, what’s going to happen to South Africa’s answer to JRR Tolkien, Stephen King or Ray Bradbury? Not much. Their voices will go unheard because they do not validate a common stereotypical perception of “Africa”. This is discrimination. Plain and simple. You can try dress it up in platitudes about how we need to uplift blah, blah, blah, but it doesn’t change the facts. I see this in other art forms too, particularly the film industry. It makes me tired.

Culturally I'm Afrikaans. When I was a teenager, I was so ashamed of my culture and race back in the 1990s I stopped writing and reading in my mother tongue or discussing "local" issues in my fiction. I looked to the worlds created by Anne McCaffrey, JRR Tolkien, Kate Elliot and CJ Cherryh for inspiration. Which is possibly now why I write mainly SFF/H. I often feel my writing is socially unacceptable here because I choose to write SFF/H. But, get this. (It gets even better.) When I submit to overseas houses, I have my stories rejected because they are not “recognisably African”. When you say you are an African writer, there are certain expectations of your art, and you need to play along and conform to a particular vision of what is African – according to the lens presented by the world.

What makes my experience of being African any less valid than that of a farmer’s daughter in the Northern Cape or a retired security guard living in a township?

But jawellnofine. I'll leave you with that. I'm going to continue doing my thing, and I'll continue cheering on some of my mates who've broken into the overseas market because hey, that's awesome. You go. Do your thing. I'm not going to stop trying.

All I ask is that you think about what it means to be African, and how we are moving into a world where borders are blurring, and cultural identity is moving from local to global. Africa is more than thorn trees in the Serengeti. It's more than South Africa's apartheid past or the depredations of colonialism. We need to move beyond that.

Journey from Darkness by Gareth Crocker #review

Title: Journey from Darkness
Author: Gareth Crocker and Llewellyn Crocker
Publisher: Penguin, 2012

For those who have a deep, abiding love of the African bush and its denizens, father-and-son duo Gareth and Llewellyn have whisked up an evocative tale that’s sure to gain an emotional reactions from sensitive readers.

Somehow twin brothers Derek and Edward made it through the trenches of World War I. They find their way to Africa where they get involved in a pioneering conservation project. Elephant poaching is at its height, and the majestic tuskers are being butchered, and brutally so.

Existing almost as complete opposites to the twin brothers are a pair of poachers, incidentally also brothers, who are also survivors of the Great War. Only they didn’t quite transcend their personal darkness, which fuels their bloodlust as they go about the dismal business of poaching elephants. A little too conveniently, the authors paint these two out to be stereotypical storybook villains complete with tattoos and a fixation with death-dealing and sadism.

Derek and Edward soon encounter a wounded, almost mythical desert elephant, and Derek, with Edward’s support, gets it into his head to accompany the pachyderm in her overland quest, ostensibly to protect her from poachers but also, to a degree, I suspect to conquer his own sense of purposelessness in the aftermath of the war. It goes without saying that he’s going to lock horns with the poachers, who know only cruelty. But Derek’s no pushover, and he goes about exacting revenge.

The thing that marred my experience of reading the novel was that at its close I encountered serious point of view issues. I then had to go back and reread a number of sections just to figure out particulars, and even then I became quite annoyed because there would have been an easier way to get around the problem. My main gripe: characters withholding key information in order to create suspense.

Technical problems aside, however, Gareth and Llewellyn have touched upon certain topical issues – such as mankind’s impact on Africa’s wildlife, and whether the end justifies the means when it comes to resolving some of them, and just for that, Journey from Darkness is bound to elicit some thought-provoking dialogue among readers.

Black Bull, Ancestors and Me by Nkunzi Zandile Nkabinde #review

Title: Black Bull, Ancestors and Me: My Life as a Lesbian Sangoma
Author: Nkunzi Zandile Nkabinde
Publisher: Fanele, an imprint of Jacana Media, 2008

The first thing that is immediately apparent when reading Black Bull, Ancestors and Me, is Nkunzi’s overwhelming confidence in herself and her place in the world. She is not afraid of breaking with her culture’s established viewpoints and, in all that she does, she seeks to find the middle ground.

This is expressed in her balancing the male and female aspects of her self, as well as drawing from established traditions with a vision of a dynamic future. In many ways Nkunzi was fortunate, because she was raised by a mother who accepted Nkunzi for who she was, and defended her from those who would discriminate.

Though she does not shy away from examining the painful aspects of life, her entire book comes across with a huge amount of positive attitude, which is so refreshing – especially when we consider the constant doom and gloom in the media. Mostly, Nkunzi concerns herself with doing what is right – this might not be the easiest path to follow, but she has clearly spent much time examining herself and others, and isn’t afraid to say what’s on her mind.

Central to Nkunzi’s worldview is her firm belief in the powers of her ancestors, who have guided her on her path as a sangoma. If you, like me, are curious about how important this belief system is to others, Nkunzi offers a fantastic way for readers to experience a bit of a paradigm shift to establish greater understanding. It’s not necessary to believe as she does, but I finished this book with a better idea of why some folks follow this path.

Of particular interest also is Nkunzi’s research, which she relates here as she’s spent much time travelling to interview other same-sex sangomas in South Africa, and has offered a fascinating glimpse into this other world. She speaks plainly and from the heart, toward greater understanding. I do believe her voice should be heard, especially in the light of so many brutal attacks against lesbians in South Africa’s townships.

AfroSF: Science Fiction by African Writers #review

Title: AfroSF: Science Fiction by African Writers
Edited by: Ivor W Hartmann
Publisher: StoryTime, December 2012


It’s always gratifying to see literary offerings that give genre fiction’s upcoming talents more exposure; of all the continents, Africa presents us with a very different lens with which to view the world—especially refreshing for those of us who’ve grown up with a US- or UK-centric world view.

The AfroSF anthology brings together a broad cross-section of writing, ranging from first-timers to seasoned African writers, with tales ranging from stark, dystopian futures to rollicking space operas. There’s a little bit of everything here, for sure.

Moom! by Nnedi Okorafor tells of the natural world’s revolt against mankind’s oppression, from the perspective of a marlin or swordfish (from what I gather). Okorafor’s descriptions are quite lyrical, and I could clearly picture events as they transpired.

Sarah Lotz never disappoints, and Home Affairs strikes a chord with anyone who’s ever had to deal with bureaucratic queues – hell on earth doesn’t even begin to describe it. As always, Lotz offers her signature brand of black humour and a tale that one hopes will never step from the realms of fiction into the real world.

Five Sets of Hands by Cristy Zinn takes us to Mars, where one race has enslaved another, digging for ancient artefacts in the dirt. Zinn comments on slavery and lives that are outcast and untouchable. This is also a touching story of courage, and an individual acting to bring about change in the face of injustice.

A theme that recurs in a number of stories is that of pharmaceutical corporations holding society to ransom. New Mzansi by Ashley Jacobs is one such, delivering a dystopian vision of a possible future that might already be unfolding. This is a discomforting read.

As always, Nick Wood delivers a treat. He is a master of evoking environment, and the complex relationships between people, place and history. Azania takes us with an expeditionary crew travelling from Earth to a new planet, and the complications they face, cut off from their past by time and space.

Notes from Gethsemane by Tade Thompson plays on the horrors of biological warfare as the main characters find themselves affected by the malevolent and mysterious Pit. I felt as though I wanted a bit more of a punch from this story, but its ending was nonetheless suitably discomforting.

The aliens are coming, and they aren’t all friendly. SA Partridge draws on popular culture’s fascination with UFO lore in Planet X and gives us a possible reaction to an alien invasion that is uniquely South Africa. In doing so, she comments on our own notions of xenophobia.

Lovers of Star Wars and Firefly-esque SF will no doubt perk up and enjoy Chinelo Onwualu’s The Gift of Touch. This is space opera territory, and it’s sufficient just to sit back and enjoy the ride. Some lovely one-liners are passed between characters (“It’s a very big gun” is a classic example.)

The Foreigner by Uko Bendi Udo returns to xenophobia and cultural identity. I feel this story could have been developed further and needed a bit more voema, although it has a great premise.

Warfare is never pretty, and it’s perhaps even more horrific when the opponent is inexplicable. Dave de Burgh’s Angel Song drops readers directly in the thick of conflict and offers a hopeless struggle. The tension in this tale is unrelenting, crisp and well executed.

Biram Mboob examines possible conflict between Africa and the Orient in The Rare Earth. Traditional African culture transform modern technology. I wasn’t sure what to make of this story, to be honest, and am tempted to wonder whether the author couldn’t have pushed the story a bit more.

Terms & Conditions Apply by Sally-Ann Murray is another tale offering pharmaceutical companies in the role of antagonist. Although the writing is crisp, I didn’t take to the premise.

In Heresy, Mandisi Nkomo takes a sly, humorous stab at South Africa’s political climate. I don’t want to give too much away, so I’m not going to go into details, but if you’ve ever been frustrated with our politics, past and present, this story will resonate with you.

The opening line of Closing Time by Liam Kruger pretty much sums up the story: “I drew the connection between alcohol and time travel pretty late in the game, all told.” This nasty little tale will leave you scratchy behind the eyes. Kruger’s worth looking out for.

Masquerade Stories by Chiagozie Fred Nwonwu touches on traditional African values vs. modernity, and the possible conflicts that ensue. This is an engaging tale, and I honestly did not expect how it would conclude.

Joan De La Haye’s The Trial is a claustrophobic glimpse into a dystopian future we do not want to consider, where the government has the power to cull the population. She asks what makes a person valuable, and it’s easy to see a little of ourselves in her narrator.

Brandy City by Mia Arderne sees society descend to a form of indentured servitude supported by a dop system. Characters’ lives are miserable, and even those who have the means to pull themselves out of the mire are themselves prisoners.

Ofe! By Rafeeat Aliyu changes the tone to a futuristic thriller, where two unlikely allies must work together to outfox the schemes of a scientist who has sinister intentions. It’s an enjoyable, fast-paced read and although the ending could have been more dynamic.

Martin Stokes delivers commentary on the issues of poaching of wildlife vs. supply and demand in Claws and Savages. The story is a straight-up revenge drama, painted in visceral, graphic detail.

To Gaze at the Sun by Clifton Gachagua examines how the patterns of humanity’s sense of obligations, of parenthood and the relationship between children and their parents balanced by our need to conform to society’s expectations – another discomforting read.

Proposition 23 by Efe Okogu is a novelette that quite clearly references William Gibson’s Neuromancer and The Matrix. The author keeps readers constantly off guard, and touches on the concepts of terrorism, virtual reality and artificial intelligence. This story is also a suitably impactful ending for the anthology.

While I feel that some of the stories in this anthology are clearly stronger than others, I still recommend this collection to anyone who has a love of Africa, or a deep, abiding curiosity to encounter writing in the SF genre by Africans. Hartmann has selected a diversity of tales here, some of which will remain with me for a while.

Having recently read a collection of classic SF novels, I found this collection to be especially pertinent, particularly in the light of how our relationship with technology has changed since the mid-1950s. Those early writers certainly hadn’t envisioned hwo social media would shape our way of interacting with others, and what’s certain is that we face many further developments. Importantly, some of the stories in this collection highlight such issues as privacy and individuality, and how we are, as a society, giving away our freedom in an era where it is easy to fall under the illusion that we have more freedom than ever.

Many of the stories also initiate a dialogue with readers about what it means to be African, in a society where there is often conflict related to a clash of traditional values vs. the West. Africa’s people are not a homogenous nation. We bear the scars of slavery and colonialism. How we move ahead into the future and what we make of all the opportunities presented to us, is another matter.

May it be so that some of the realities portrayed in this collection never come to pass.