A Love Letter From Wales to Zimbabwe

Reproduced from https://nation.cymru/culture/a-love-letter-from-wales-to-zimbabwe/ 

by Ashley Eyvanaki

Authors Bryony Rheam, John Eppel, Mzana Mthimkhulu, and Tariro Ndoro, with interviewers Tinashe Tafirenyika and James Arnett, at Intwasa Arts Festival in the National Gallery of Zimbabwe. 

amaBooks is an independent publisher based in Bulawayo, Zimbabwe. They specialise in Zimbabwean poetry, short stories, and contemporary novels, as well as a selection of local history and heritage titles. In recent years its founders, Jane Morris and Brian Jones, have relocated to Wales – Jane having been born in Ebbw Vale.

Whilst continuing to publish in Zimbabwe, they have formed a working relationship with Parthian Books, to whom they have sold the rights to several of their titles: the short story anthologies Where to Now? and Moving On, and the novels The Maestro, The Magistrate and The Mathematician by Tendai Huchu, and This September Sun by Bryony Rheam. 

Their most recent venture together is to co-publish the novel All Come to Dust, also by Bryony Rheam, a Zimbabwean author whose mother was Welsh.

Sitting down to interview the pair, I am amazed by how passionate both are about African literature. Although amaBooks primarily publishes in English, there are sixteen official languages in Zimbabwe.

In the isiNdebele language, spoken in Bulawayo and the surrounding provinces of Matabeleland, “ama” placed at the start of a word is equivalent to an “s” at the end of a word in English. They chose the name amaBooks to indicate that they publish books in English in an Ndebele cultural environment.

When I ask the couple about their journey into publishing, they laugh fondly and explain that they “Just stumbled into publishing.” Jane, also a social worker and social work trainer, was working with volunteers for Childline, when raising funds locally was discussed. A local poet offered a selection of his poems, and Jane and Brian volunteered to organise the publication.

One thousand copies were sold by the group, with all proceeds donated to Childline, and so amaBooks began. amaBooks have been steadily publishing a selection of books since 2001, with many having won awards, and rights having been sold to publishers across the world. amaBooks, and other African publishers, are part of the African Books Collective, who print and distribute many of their publications outside of Africa.

Welshman

The couple go on to talk about the deep-rooted historic link between Wales and Zimbabwe. In the nineteenth century, several missionaries from Wales, including Thomas Morgan Thomas and Bowen Rees, travelled to Zimbabwe to set up mission schools in Matabeleland. These schools have been instrumental in educating people who have gone on to become significant figures in Zimbabwean society.

As a result, the first name “Welshman” is one you hear in Matabeleland. Thomas Morgan Thomas translated and published several books into isiNdebele, and his book Eleven Years in Central Africa, published in both English and Welsh in 1873, is rumoured to have become the second best-selling book, following the Bible, in Wales during that period.

The literary connection between Wales and Matabeleland was rejuvenated following a Wales Arts International visit to Bulawayo in 2006. The links created led to Welsh writers Owen Sheers, Lloyd Robson, Ian Rowlands, and Peter Finch visiting Bulawayo, and some of their work being included in amaBooks publications. Owen, Lloyd, and Ian went on to participate in the annual Intwasa Arts Festival koBulawayo.

There are also challenges to publishing in Zimbabwe. Brian and Jane explained that the state of the economy remains the major difficulty, with over 90% of the adult population not in formal employment, and the wages of the majority of those in work being too low for many potential readers to actually buy a book – especially if it is not a school text. Libraries rarely acquire books from local publishers, relying instead on book donations from international donors.

Problems

The couple commented that amaBooks started at “The wrong time, just as the economy began its steep decline to the total collapse in 2008, from which it has yet to recover.” That decline led to other problems for the population, including publishers – a lack of fuel in the garages resulting in queuing for up to a week for petrol, frequent cuts in electricity supplies and, after many breakdowns, the end of telephone communication from where amaBooks were situated.

The majority of bookstores closed or concentrated solely on school textbooks. The shortage of food in the stores at one point necessitated monthly overnight trips to neighbouring Botswana to buy basic supplies.

The political environment proved to be a challenge for all in the creative industries in Zimbabwe. Although publishing has been less affected than many other arts sectors, there were occasions when the ruling party press printed comments about publishers whose work they considered did not follow the government line, such as “If you see a snake in your house playing with your child, you first kill the snake and save your child.” However, it was worse for other sectors of the creative industries.

A rehearsal of a play, written by two amaBooks writers, was interrupted by ‘security officials’, with two backstage workers taken away to a remote area and threatened at gunpoint – the performances were then cancelled! An exhibition by a visual artist, who had contributed a painting for an amaBooks book cover, was shut down at the National Gallery of Zimbabwe in Bulawayo. The artist was then charged with undermining the authority of the President, which carried a twenty-year prison sentence, although charges were eventually dropped

Jane with authors Hosea Tokwe, Beaven Tapureta, Ignatius Mabasa, and Fungai Machirori, at Zimbabwe International Book Fair, Harare. 

Joy

It is when we begin discussing the joys of publishing in Zimbabwe, that both Jane and Brian’s faces light up. “It was the smiles on the faces of writers when their first stories or poems had been accepted for publication, and the enthusiasm of the audiences at the launches – many couldn’t afford to buy a book, but they came to hear the readings and to just enjoy the occasion. And just being a part of a vibrant creative community.”

The book launches, attracting up to three hundred people at times, became celebrations across the arts, with both local music and the visual arts featuring. The couple go on to reveal that the majority of amaBooks’ publications use the work of Zimbabwean artists as the basis of their covers.

As our interview winds down and talk turns to what we plan to do with our weekends, I ask the couple one last question: What is their most cherished memory from working in publishing? For the first time in our almost two-hour long talk, they pause. Lost in their thoughts, both agree that one of their most cherished memories is of standing on the veranda of the National Gallery of Zimbabwe after a book launch, sipping glasses of wine and watching the people mingling below.

Both believe that publishing through amaBooks has opened up a whole new world within their lives, allowing them to experience the joy and laughter of publishing pieces and meeting the talented people behind them.

The murder-mystery novel All Come to Dust by Bryony Rheam, co-published by amaBooks and Parthian Books is available from Parthian now.

'Long Time Coming' reviewed in the Herald - from a very different perspective

‘Long Time Coming’ : hope and the role of the artist

 

January 26, 2015 Features, Opinion & Analysis

@ the Bookstore With Elliot Ziwira in The Herald, Zimbabwe

http://www.herald.co.zw/long-time-coming-hope-and-the-role-of-the-artist/

“LONG Time Coming” (2008), edited by Jane Morris and published by amaBooks, chronicles the mundane and sordid experiences of the common man, as he stoically trudges on along the scalding earth of his existence in a community desperately waiting for the rain.

The book taps into the journalistic function of the artist which complements the didactic nature of literature. As Soyinka (1973:89) observes: “The artist always functioned as the voice of vision in his own time.”

His telescopic eye should capture current and topical issues which burden his people, because it is such concerns that the reader easily identifies with.

This journalistic aspect of the role of the artist is also echoed by Chinweizu et al (1985:89) when they say: “Our job as writers is to be articulate and to present to our audience the stresses and joys of our societies as they take place.”

Such is the role of the competent artist that the collection exploits effectively through chronicling the recession that brings the sovereign nation to its knees, which however strengthens its resolve as the heavy rain bearing clouds gather on the horizon.

Thirty three writers and poets drawn from the African landscape and predominantly Zimbabwean, converge to tell the story of suffering, patience, hope, violence, despondence and deceit in the crises ridden Zimbabwe of the never ending queues, as the nation reels under the burden of Western imposed sanctions.

The bone of contention is the land, a finite resource whose wealth; mineral, aquatic or otherwise, the host country feels obliged to protect for the betterment of its people much to the chagrin of the alien gangsters from the West, who retaliated by imposing an illegal embargo on the sovereign motherland.

But the pious son of the soil, President Robert Mugabe could not allow Western hegemony to continue fettering his fellow countrymen to the colonial yoke, because indeed there is no freedom without ownership of the means of production.

In the ensuing chaos, poverty becomes the order of the day as the majority ekes out a mere existence from the little they could scantily put their hands to, in the vast expanses of empty shops, deserted hospitals, dry taps and a non-existent will on the part of service providers as well as those with the economic stamina for a haul forward.

An aura of desperation pervades the daily toils of the majority as their hope to untangle themselves from the labyrinthine snare of their existence only lie in the promising rains; both literal and metaphorical; the rains that will wash away the pain, sweat and blood from the impoverished and drought stricken land of their being, and leave sprouting seeds of hope in their wake.

Waiting, a dominant motif in the collection, and a commodity abundantly available in the national discourse, seems to be the only way out.

However, in this situation where others are malnourished, ailing and willing to trade their wretchedness for a morsel of bread, the avaricious, corrupt, cunning and obese minority crouch menacingly at their horizon of hope; taking the situation as a self-aggrandising enterprise.

This rationale is aptly captured in Wim Boswinkel’s “Justice” and John Eppel’s “The Awards Ceremony” as well as Sandisile Tshuma’s “Arrested Development”.

The rich use of metaphors; both from nature and Man’s creations, the autobiographical mode, which aptly chronicles the writers’ own experiences, and cultural diversity through the different authorial voices exploited, does not only allow the exploration of a plethora of themes, but also authenticate the fictional experience as the reader is drawn into the nuances of events highlighted, and juxtaposes them with the reality of his or her being.

The frustration, despondence and disillusionment is so real and vividly conjure the reality of lack, as the suffering masses endure whatever comes their way with such stoicism that shames the devil, who desperately prophesises doom and violent disturbances.

The people’s refusal to have their spirits dampened and hope strangled in the face of adversity and hunger, is illuminated through the metaphor of the rain, the encouraging smiles and winks from strangers.

Truly the Zimbabwean cannot be broken that easily.

His or her fighting spirit will spur him or her on to higher resolves, if only chance avails itself and Providence Divine intervenes.

The use of the journey motif taps into traditional folkloric drama, as the search for the ever receding pastures and hope becomes paramount.

There is hope in travelling, yet the means to travel becomes a stumbling block.

Everyone is so much in a hurry to go somewhere away from the painful familiar environs, yet they remain rooted physically and emotionally to the same.

Where physical movement is possible, albeit in a stressful way, emotional movement remains flimsy; because one is never sure what to expect from the unknown hunting grounds; where morality and humane attributes die in the wake of physical satiation.

One has to cling on to hope, for “Who Knows What Season Tomorrow Brings” as Gothataone Moeng quips, as she admires the Zimbabwean women who toil to fend for their husbands and children back home through humiliating encounters in Botswana, her country, yet remaining resolute and proud of their nationality.

In a single journey from the city to one’s abode or to border towns, one would relate a lifetime of experiences about harness-able opportunities and elusive ones, which create categories in society; the “chicken bus clients” and the Landcruiser elite.

The “chicken bus clients” as revealed by Linda Msebele in the story “The Chicken Bus”, are the wretched of the earth, the downtrodden that those with the means seek to punish for the mere reason of them being Zimbabwean, with a right to their ancestral land.

The artist intimates: “It is the cheapest and certainly harshest, way of getting home these days. Such travelling is meant for those like me (believe me, there are millions like me) who cannot afford the emergence taxis that ply the same route and that charge a much higher fare . . .

“It is noisy, stuffy and smelly here . . . It really stinks in here.

“It stinks of poverty.

“It’s nothing like the chic smell of wealthy.”

In her struggle to put a meal on the table as one among the millions wallowing in abject poverty, the artist wonders: “How different the realities of life can be.

Some people drive the latest Mercedes, BMWs and Pajeros.

I wonder how they manage to make money in a country with such an inflationary and depressed economy.” She adeptly takes the reader into the emotionally sutured psyche of suffering in a society where the perverse, callous and greedy mighty strangle the feeble, as she ponders: “Am I doomed to forever board chicken buses?”

In this hubbub where the sexual perverts and mentally deranged impersonations of men quench their carnal desires on unsuspecting women in the packed buses, and are quick to erupt in tantrums if questioned on their intentions, there are some “who refuse to turn sour, the ones who won’t let fear cloud their brows, the ones who still smile.”

Lloyd Robson, who writes from a visitor’s viewpoint in “Rum and Still Waters”, highlights the Zimbabweans’ resilience, warmth and patriotism.

It is in such situations where one finds oneself without bus-fare to go home at 4.45 pm, as in Julius Chingono’s “Bus Fare” and his manly pride inhibits him from accepting alms from his ex-wife, whose star shines while his conspires with the demons of unemployment to wane; where a university post or undergraduate questions whether it is really necessary to be academically knowledgeable when those who make it to the top of the social and economic echelons are school drops-outs, like the Malayitshas, and cross-border traders, where everything seems to be in abeyance; that one begins to question his or her sanity or whether there is really anything called sanity or it is just a subjective idea, as everyone really seems to be sane in his or her own way; or maybe insane, depending on those around.

It is this subject that Ignatius Mabasa hilariously tackles poignantly in the captivating story “Some Kind of Madness”.

Notwithstanding all this suffering, chaos and despondency, glimmers of hope remain visible on the silver lining of the clouds which break into torrents to change the complexion of the Zimbabwean landscape as Pathisa Nyathi alludes to “And the Rains Came”, and Judy Maposa’s “First Rain” celebrates.