Bongani Kona, photo courtesy of the Caine Prize |
In
December 1999, as their final act before the turn of the millennium, TIME magazine published a special issue
profiling the hundred most influential people of the 20th Century. I
remember casually paging through the issue and being drawn by the brief entry
on Philo T. Farnsworth, the man who invented television. What really caught my
interest was not the entry itself – Farnsworth died in relative obscurity,
dogged by lawsuits and in debt – but the caption that ran underneath the
photograph, of a man sitting with his back turned to the camera, in a room
surrounded by screens. It said Farnsworth was unhappy with what he saw, even
before 500 channels.
Perhaps
because I was going through puberty and its attendant flux of emotion – I was
fourteen that year – I felt a sense of kinship with Farnsworth. I could relate to
that difficult-to-explain unhappiness, even as a teenager growing up in Harare.
In hindsight, the reason I’ve never forgotten that episode is because I understood
for the first time something I’d always felt but had been unable to name; what
it means to be alone.
I’m trying to explain to
you, in so few words, why I was drawn so much to the world of books. Reading made
me feel less estranged from the world. My favourite scene in J.D. Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye is when Holden Caulfield
goes to visit Mr. Antolini and he says to him:
“Many,
many men have been just as troubled morally and spiritually as you are right
now. Happily, some of them kept records of their troubles. You'll learn from
them – if you want to. Just as someday, if you have something to offer, someone
will learn something from you. It's a beautiful reciprocal arrangement. And it
isn't education. It's history. It's poetry.”
In
short, reading has been my way of connecting with the world. My way of
understanding what it means to be human. I can’t offer an equally coherent
explanation for why I write. Writing is difficult and it’s the only line of
work I know of where you’re guaranteed to fail more times than you succeed and
there have been times when I’ve given up. The only reason I keep going is
because I want to give to someone else what books have given to me. A way out
of loneliness.
Zimbabwean writer Bongani Kona was shortlisted for the 2016 Caine Prize for African Writing with his short story 'At your Requiem'. The story is published in the 2016 Caine Prize anthology The Daily Assortment of Astonishing Things, published by amaBooks in Zimbabwe, New Internationalist in the UK, Jacana Media in South Africa, Interlink Books in Nigeria, Kwani? in Kenya, Sub-Saharan Publishers in Ghana, Gadsden Books in Zambia, Femrite in Uganda and Langaa in Cameroon. 'At your Requiem' was first published in South Africa by Burnet Media in Incredible Journey: Stories That Move You.
Bongani is a freelance writer and contributing editor of Chimurenga. His writing has appeared in Mail & Guardian, Rolling Stone (South Africa), Sunday Times and other publications and websites. He is also enrolled as a Masters student in the Creative Writing Department at the University of Cape Town.
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