Almost Human by Lee Berger and John Hawks

I will admit straight-up that I'm terrified of caves, so there were parts of this book that had me kinda claustrophobic in a big way. But oh, what a wonderful read. I've been fascinated by the work done by archaeologists, anthropolgists, and palaeontologists since I was a wee lass, so Lee Berger's story in Almost Human (narrated by Donald Corren) about how he pulled together the team that discovered and described an early hominid and one of our ancestors – Homo naledi – was absolutely riveting.

What many of us often don't realise when we're watching a nature documentary is how much behind-the-scenes effort goes into these expeditions of literal blood, sweat, and tears at times. Lee Berger is a paleoanthropologist who has spent many years here in South Africa studying the ancient remains of our ancestors and near cousins, and he really digs deep into how he pulled his team together and how they faced and overcame the many challenges they encountered in their work.

What I love about his writing is that he not only comes across as a scientist who knows his stuff, but he tells a darned fine story, too – a rare combination. So his writing is very much accessible to those of us who may not be conversant in all the scientific terms. His approach of sharing his findings with the scientific world at large also goes contrary to the methods of many researchers who are not so forthcoming with their research – his attitude geared towards getting as much input as possible from those in the know.

The basic story of the H. naledi discovery is particularly fascinating because not only is the species a crucial, missing link in our understanding of human evolution, but also the the remains themselves were discovered in a practically inaccessible cave, making it an incredible challenge to not only analyse the site but to retrieve the remains for further study using a scientific method.

And for once this was an opportunity for women to shine – with young women researchers being the ones who had the physical characteristics that made them best suited to squeeze through the tight spots guys would struggle with and then still spend hours at a time at their work carefully retrieving the remains.

This was a thrilling account that turned, ahem, dry bones, into something exciting. 

Palaces of Stone: Uncovering ancient southern African kingdoms by Mike Main & Tom Huffman

I've known about the existence of the iconic Great Zimbabwe ruins for years, but until Palaces of Stone by Mike Main and Tom Huffman arrived on my reading pile, I had no idea that the story behind these remnants of a culture were far more numerous and widespread – with 566 known sites described. Before the Europeans had the wherewithal to sail around the Cape of Storms, kingdoms existed in southern Africa with dwelling-places and palaces with such evocative names as Mapungubwe, Great Zimbabwe, Khami, and Zinjanja, among others.

The first settlements date back to 900 CE to 1850 CE, with the last, the state of Mutapa, seeing the start of its demise with the arrival of the Portuguese in the1600s, whose meddling in local politics stirred a toxic brew of intrigue and conflict. Main and Huffman paint a picture of a series of states, each growing phoenix-like out of the ashes of the old, with complex cultural practices and a wide net of influence within the region.

We are fortunate that not all the research into the culture of the region is conjecture – much of the lore is still alive today, courtesy of the Shona people, and the authors offer up fascinating details behind the meticulously laid-out stonework, the arrangement of dwellings, and the roles played by their inhabitants. Even the patterns of the stones have their meanings – the chevron, check, and herringbone patterns each telling their own stories. 

What troubled me was also my understanding of the great damage wreaked by the British, whose shameless treasure hunting in the Great Zimbabwe ruins destroyed any hope of piecing together accurate archaeological data. This disregard for an immense cultural heritage means that we have lost so much, and Cecil John Rhodes and his ilk have much to answer for.

Palaces of Stone might be a slim volume whose size cannot do justice to the beautiful photographs and detailed maps reproduced within, but for those who, like me, are fascinated by southern Africa's natural and cultural history, this is a veritable treasure trove of information. What I've learnt is that these walls are more than just tumbled ruins, but they echo with a vast reservoir of meaning and a vibrant past deserving of preservation and further research.