This Is Africa reviews The Maestro, The Magistrate and The Mathematician

Expats in Edinburgh – making a place your own

By Farai K. Dzvairo on August 15, 2016 — 

In his latest novel, The Maestro, The Magistrate & The Mathematician, Tendai Huchu follows the lives of three Zimbabwean immigrants as they strive for assimilation and a sense of place.

Identity, belonging and loss are the unholy trinity of the immigrant experience. Millions of Zimbabweans have emigrated throughout the world since the early 2000s. The very fortunate left by choice, to pursue further education; the majority left in search of a better quality of life for their families; the remainder for reasons known only to themselves.

In the novel The Maestro, The Magistrate & The Mathematician, the Zimbabwean-born writer Tendai Huchu introduces us to three Zimbabwean-born men living very different lives in Edinburgh in the early 2000s.

Tendai Huchu at Africa Writes (Photo:RAS News and Events)

When we first meet The Magistrate, he is struggling with accepting how his life has changed. Formerly a Someone, a man of means, in Zimbabwe, he is now living as his wife’s dependant, together with his teenage daughter. His storyline is steady in pace and it is to him we return every second chapter as a means of anchoring the overall story.

Farai, The Mathematician, is doing a Ph.D. in economics. His focus on high-risk, high-reward profiteering during short periods of hyperinflation is a nod to the unanswered questions surrounding how some senior Zimbabwean government officials managed to thrive while the nation’s economy buckled prior to the adoption of the United States dollar.  Young and carefree, he comes from a wealthy family and is the only character to enjoy his entire Edinburgh experience.

“If there is one thing I’ve learnt in the last few years, it’s that everyone needs a story. That’s all our lives amount to, nothing but stories that we hope will live on after we are gone.”

The mysterious Maestro is the last of the main characters. White, and possibly suffering from a mental illness, we meet him at the top of a cliff and periodically check in with him as he freefalls to the bottom. Although he was a member of a visual minority as a white man in Zimbabwe, the Maestro would have lived a very comfortable life by any standard, regardless of how humble his background. Given that he is now part of the visual majority in Edinburgh, we’d expect his assimilation to be the easiest of the three. Could it be that the author chose to use a sick mind as a narrative device to show the trauma associated with going from being a ‘baas’ to being the same as everyone else in the blink of an eye?

“But, if there is one thing I’ve learnt in the last few years, it’s that everyone needs a story. That’s all our lives amount to, nothing but stories that we hope will live on after we are gone.” Although uttered by a secondary character in the book, these words perfectly encapsulate Huchu’s goal – to tell a story that will linger with us well after it is over.

Leave Your Assumptions at The Door

Having thoroughly enjoyed The Hairdresser of Harare, Huchu’s debut novel, I was looking forward to more of the same humour and a clearly identifiable storyline in his second book. That was my first (but not my biggest) mistake. The Maestro, The Magistrate and The Mathematician is actually three almost independent novellas with no consequential links to each other until the very last moment.

The biggest mistake I made was to assume that because the protagonists and author were all African men living in Europe, the novel could be labeled an ‘immigrant novel’. Far from it – the real story happened in the background, in the mother country, with ‘immigrant tales’ distracting us in the foreground.

In an interview Huchu was asked how immigration affected his writing and his response was caustic: “The funny thing is that when some white dude writes a novel set anywhere in Africa or Asia, it’s never referred to as an immigrant novel. They just have the right to be where they want to be and to write what they want.” That’s exactly what Huchu did with this piece of work – he wrote the story that he wanted to write. If our assumptions and myopia created a certain set of expectations, then that was our mistake, not his.

“The funny thing is that when some white dude writes a novel set anywhere in Africa or Asia, it’s never referred to as an immigrant novel. They just have the right to be where they want to be and to write what they want.”

This is an ambitious work. Each novella has a unique tempo and tone and weaving them together was never going to be easy. Some of the transitions between the characters felt a bit jarring and, as enjoyable as the storytelling was, the middle of the book felt somewhat bloated – it was big, but missing something crucial.

Under the surface

Mark Twain said that “humour is the good-natured side of a truth”. Huchu uses humour as a means of social commentary. There are no sacred cows; religion, politics and relationships are all fair game. My favourite scene is The Magistrate’s first meeting of the Edinburgh branch of the Zimbabwean opposition party, the Movement for Democratic Change (MDC). In it, Peter, a hapless councillor, is sent to represent the Mayor’s Office at a meeting for an organisation he knows nothing about. He has the following conversation with Alfonso, a character who introduces himself as “Alfonso Pfukuto, first secretary of the MDC in Edinburgh, Scotland, UK, European Union”. (The book clearly pre-dates the Brexit vote.):

“So what’s your party’s philosophy?” Peter asked.

“Change, that’s all we want, that’s all we stand for,” Alfonso replied, fiddling with his camera.

“What do you mean? What sort of change?”

“Well, erm, democratic change. We are a movement, you see. What we want to do first and foremost is change the names of the roads. At the moment a lot of the roads are named after their people, and we have to change that.”

“I don’t think I quite follow.”

“It’s the same with the Heroes’ Acre. At the moment they put their people in it, but we want to put our own people in there as well. You wait and see, a lot of things are going to change.”

What appears at first glance to be a dig at the opposition party and their motives can also be seen as the expression of legitimate concerns around the gatekeeping and ownership of Zimbabwean history by Robert Mugabe and his party, Zanu-PF.

It seems fitting that The Magistrate is the character that is used to interrogate gender dynamics. His days examining evidence in court come in handy. On more than one occasion he wistfully remembers the maid they employed in Zimbabwe as he does chores around the house. He also spends time musing about the messages in Sungura music (a genre of Zimbabwean music that is the result of a melding of the brooding Rhumba sound from central and east Africa with local, percussive rhythms) and the irony that although songs about abusive marriages exist, they were sung by men pretending to be women, given that there were no female Sungura artists.

Conclusion

The Maestro, The Magistrate & The Mathematician isn’t a beach read. Although littered with humour and light-hearted moments, the layers of meaning require active reading to be appreciated. Huchu took a tremendous leap of faith in experimenting so much with tone, structure and storyline. While the novel didn’t quite reach what it was aiming for, it is certainly one I will reread in the future to see if hindsight is indeed 20/20.

from http://thisisafrica.me/expats-edinburgh-making-place/

The Maestro, The Magistrate & The Mathematician is available in North America from Ohio University Press, in Nigeria and West Africa from Kachifo, in the United Kingdom from Parthian Books and in Zimbabwe and elsewhere from amaBooks.

Caine Prize for African Writing 2016

Congratulations to the 2016 Caine Prize for African Writing Winner, South African writer Lidudumalingani, for his short story, 'Memories We Lost'. A writer, filmmaker and photographer, Lidudumalingani was born in the Eastern Cape province in a village called Zikhovane. He’s currently based in Cape Town.

His winning story, “Memories We Lost”, explores mental health through the relationship of two sisters in a South African village, one of whom is schizophrenic and the other her protector. The sister’s situation deteriorates as her care is entrusted to Nkunzi, a local man who employs traditional techniques to rid people of their demons.

“The winning story explores a difficult subject – how traditional beliefs in a rural community are used to tackle schizophrenia,” said the prize chair, Jarrett-Macauley. “This is a troubling piece, depicting the great love between two young siblings in a beautifully drawn Eastern Cape. Multi-layered, and gracefully narrated, this short story leaves the reader full of sympathy and wonder at the plight of its protagonists.”

The Caine Prize is awarded annually to an African writer of a short story published in English. This year’s panel of judges consisted of Delia Jarrett-Macauley, Adjoa Andoh, Muthoni Garland,Robert J. Patterson and Mary Watson. Five writers made the 2016 shortlist: Abdul Adan(Somalia/Kenya), Lesley Nneka Arimah (Nigeria), Tope Folarin (Nigeria) and Bongani Kona (Zimbabwe) and of course Lidudumalingani.

The Zimbabwean edition of this year's Caine Prize anthology, The Daily Assortment of Astonishing Things, has just arrived at 'amaBooks from the printers. The collection features the shortlisted stories together with those written by writers participating in the annual Caine Prize workshop, including previous winner NoViolet Bulawayo from Zimbabwe.

On Tendai Huchu’s The Maestro, The Magistrate and The Mathematician: A Peep into an Existentialist’s Mind

Tendai’s The Maestro, The Magistrate & The Mathematician is not a book one starts reading and then discards. It is also not a book just riddled with beautiful lines and expressions. Simple in language and easy to comprehend, in what seems a full representation of Zimbabweans in the diaspora, Tendai Huchu, himself a diasporan, takes it upon himself to talk of Zimbabweans far away from home. The Magistrate, a man clearly in love with his roots and desirous of home, relives the experiences of his country by listening to its musicians, he finds himself walking through the streets and modernity of Edinburgh with Zimbabwe booming in his ears. Tendai, in an unflinching and unsentimental way, makes us realise the power of losing power and importance. The anchor this book holds on to is the capacity to make the characters friends with the reader. The most distinctive character being the Maestro. The most comedic, Alfonso. It is difficult to find something wrong to pin on this book.

One should not be deceived by the title of the book and restrict the book to three characters. There is a ring of more characters around these three Ms and it is these other characters that Tendai uses to create a Zimbabwean community. Remove the three Ms from the book and all the talk about Sungura music and Zimbabwean traditional musicians, as well as the long walks and descriptions of the roads of Edinburgh, are simply page fillers and nothing else.

The Magistrate, The Maestro and The Mathematician are apt representations of the lives of immigrants, especially African immigrants and the challenges and changes they face. Most importantly it highlights the common denomination that all immigrants face: survival. And when life is a matter of survival, nothing is too low to do, including coming as high as being a magistrate to going as low as ‘wiping bums’. But it is in the Maestro that we find the questions that many fear to ask themselves, what is life all about? Thinking becomes almost a fearful thing, and to quote the Maestro, ‘once you started thinking for yourself, you were lost.’

Too much thinking is sometimes associated with too much walking, going round and round just as the person thinks more and more. And this, Tendai exemplifies well in the many walks and morning jogging the Maestro engages in. A sort of abandon in one’s self comes up and the world all of a sudden becomes a tiring place in which to be and loneliness becomes a craving. The-world-should-leave-me-alone attitude is developed and people are pushed away, sometimes with the hope that one person won’t give up on you. And when it gets worse, a sort of comprehension of the unknown is sought, and answers are looked for everywhere. This is the perfect representation of the Maestro, and this character, though seeming unimportant in the whole weave of the story, plays that important role of representing lost immigrants who find companionship in themselves, and later on in death.

‘At work, he was friendly, exuding something resembling warmth, but outside of work he kept to himself. There was something safe in the white pages of a book,’ this, in reference to the Maestro, can’t be captured better, but it doesn’t end there because even ‘his running was a solitary thing; he did not want to be part of the herd. It was a way of tapping into himself, which meant the discovery of his own limits at a time when he was beginning to accept the idea of his own mortality.’ Tendai further strengthens the depth of this character by introducing to us the works the Maestro reads; works that are a peep into his consistent questioning mind. First the Maestro misses work, three days in a row, something he’d never done in four years. Then ‘the arbitrary division of time into seconds, hours, weeks, months and seasons’ becomes meaningless. The disposal of his furniture and television and eventually the burning of his books, the one thing he treasures. This is the turning point.

It is the way Tendai works out the gradual decomposition of the mind of the Maestro, from a sane looking man, to a man whose thoughts are scary and complex and questioning, to a man who runs away from his past and into a mind not his own that makes one wonder what strange thoughts might be going through the minds of those close to us.

The Maestro is a representation of the philosophical and intellectual part of this book despite him being an O’level certificate holder; whereas, the Mathematician, a PhD student, whom we’d probably expect more intellectuality from, displays hedonism. Tendai made his book a collection of contradictions.

Tendai’s Three Ms might not jolt you out of your chair, but it will definitely leave you laughing and contemplative.

Reviewer: Socrates Mbamalu

http://www.olisa.tv/2016/05/21/on-tendai-huchus-the-maestro-the-magistrate-and-the-mathematician-a-peep-into-an-existentialists-mind/

Tendai Huchu at the Balham Literary Festival

Tendai Huchu is at the Balham Literary Festival at 12.00 on Saturday 11 June, discussing 'Landscape and atmosphere' with Will Cohu and Sarah Hall.
"Will scrutinises ordinary working lives in his most recent novel and Tendai wonders why we mention landscape at all given the novel’s interiority; they are joined by award-winning Sarah Hall whose novel 'The Wolf Border' takes us into a more violent wilderness."

For information about the event and to book tickets please look at https://balhamliteraryfestival.co.uk/artists/tendai-huchu/

'A Way of Being in the World', the Balham Literary Festival takes place from 10-12 June 2016 at the Bedford Pub in Balham, London SW12

"We are all connected to our landscapes, whether urban, rural or those inside our heads, but how do we bring them to life? There are people – writers, photographers, musicians, artists across all genres – who describe and animate our surroundings with insight and verve, and we are delighted to welcome some of the greatest of these to our festival in June 2016.
"Whether it’s Robert Macfarlane on the English Eerie, Helen Macdonald on flying H is for Hawk around the world, Inua Ellams leading you on a Midnight Run through South London, Ruth Potts and Molly Conisbee introducing you to Bread, Print and Roses, China Miéville skewing the picturesque, Lauren Elkin on flâneurs, Tendai Huchu on why we include landscape in contemporary fiction or Sarah Hall taking you into the wilderness of The Wolf Border, we urge you to join us for a dazzling approach to the worlds around and within us."

from https://balhamliteraryfestival.co.uk

Pathisa Nyathi's 'Zimbabwe’s Cultural Heritage' discussed in the Sunday News

Zimbabwe’s Cultural Heritage (2005, amaBooks, Bulawayo) is a collection of essays on the culture of the Ndebele, Xhosa, Tonga, Shona, Kalanga, Nambya and Venda ethnic groups of Zimbabwe.

The author offers a brief historical background for each group providing the reader with a contextual framework to appreciate and understand the various cultural practices under review. According to Nyathi, in the book’s introduction, “Zimbabwe’s Cultural Heritage was born out of a desire to promote and preserve for posterity our nation’s cultural traditions.”

In the years following Zimbabwe’s independence, literature tended to sketch out grotesque images of colonial rule while also being a conveyer-belt of optimism for the better days ahead (Waiting for the Rain), the constructed history eulogising the newly born “nation”

However, other writers began to express deep disgruntlement, to them all they could see was a “Long Time Coming”, rather a delayed dawn of Uhuru. In the contested terrain of identity and belonging, Pathisa Nyathi, decided to “decriminalise” the subject of ethnicity, thus validating Brilliant Mhlanga’s call for the celebration of ethnicity and not criminalising it through narrow nationalist discourses. Zimbabwe’s Cultural Heritage offers a unique contribution to the subject of belonging in Zimbabwe. It avoids both the idea that “patriotic history” should take the lead in constructing the national image, and the anti-nationalist narratives. Hence Nyathi’s work steps away from the literary norm of this time.

He states on the back cover that “the emphasis of this book is not on the histories of the groups, but on their cultural practices.” This substantiates the unique character of the text and makes it a relevant point of reference in cultural research. It is outstanding discourse compensates for the limited narratives of its kind in Zimbabwe where literature is often politicised and ethnic narratives further polarise the nation. Though Zimbabwe has a variety of cultures, it has inherited a legacy of a domineering culture, resulting in the younger generation being ignorant of their cultural roots. Nyathi’s work clearly sets out the differences and the commonalities of the cultural practices of the groups considered in the text, demonstrating that there is a “Zimbabwean Cultural Heritage”. Nyathi searches into the empirical depths of ethnic values and norms and how these define belonging and identity.

When Nyathi speaks of the Ndebele it is clear that he is an insider. Here oral tradition is still alive in the 21st century and can be used as a research method. At the same time written history validates his submissions. The language and tone is not discriminatory, it speaks to all age-groups. Nyathi’s style of inter-marrying English with local languages helps in articulating the key issues. The indigenous terms used give life to the isiNdebele, Venda, Kalanga and other groups’ practices.

There is more of an emphasis on the Ndebele than on the other groups; perhaps this is to balance their relative absence in other historical narratives of the ‘nation’. Not all ethnic and racial groups in Zimbabwe are considered in this text and one would hope for a second volume to give consideration to these.

Above all, Nyathi has shown that ethnic groups are pillars of national consciousness and that they must be celebrated in order to dismantle any leanings towards intolerance.

by Richard Runyararo Mahomva

Sunday News Online: May 8 2016

An excerpt from http://www.sundaynews.co.zw/nyathi-and-mathema-turning-to-afrocentric-paradigm-of-conceptualising-the-nation/

Tendai Huchu in Germany

 Tendai Huchu has recently finished a ten-day reading tour of Germany, promoting his novel The Maestro, The Magistrate & The Mathematician, or Maestro, Magistrat und Mathematiker.

The photos below are from the event held in Dresden in Kreuzberg.

Thanks to the German publishers Peter Hammer Verlag, Dante Connection and Dirk Naguschewski.

The Maestro, The Magistrate & The Mathematician is available in the United Kingdom through Parthian Books, in North America through Ohio University Press, in Nigeria through Kachifo, in Zimbabwe and South Africa through amaBooks and in the rest of the world through the African Books Collective.

Ten Contemporary Poets in Sub-Saharan Africa : Writivism

Togara Muzanenhamo

from:http://writivism.org/2016/03/21/1076/

By: Samira Sawlani

Writer’s note: This list is just a snapshot of the poetry talent currently thriving in the African Continent, not included are the numerous poets whose poetry takes form in African languages or those that are based in Francophone Countries.

Across the African continent, poetry has been part of tradition embedded in various cultures and histories and passed down through generations.

Indeed many of the World’s most renowned poets throughout history have been from Sub-Saharan Africa. Some examples include Somalia’s Hadrawi (Mohamed Ibrahim Warsame); Chinua Achebe and Mabel Segun of Nigeria; Kofi Awonoor and Ama Ata Aidoo from Ghana; Sudan’s Mahjoub Sharif; and Keorapetse Kgositsile of South Africa.

Be it colonialism, independence, apartheid, love, motherhood, war, peace, relationships, these individuals and many more have narrated their experiences through the power of the poetic pen.

Similarly, poets in the African Diaspora like Warsan Shire, Nayyirah Waheed, Safia Elhillo, JJ Bola and Tapiwa Mugabe (and many more) are creating magic with their words and receiving the accolades to prove it.

Not to be outdone, the literary scene across Sub-Saharan Africa is overflowing with talented poets. One only has to attend any of the numerous literary festivals, book fairs and spoken word events taking place across the continent to spot these individuals or discover their musings via the internet.

Their poetry is not just art– it gives voice to the challenges and unjustness faced by so many. It articulates both individual and collective struggles and promotes self-acceptance, self-love, and self-adoration in the face of a global order which constantly tells us we are not enough.

So without further ado, here is a list of ten poets in Sub-Saharan Africa challenging the world, one poem at a time.

 1. Ijeoma Umebinyuo (Nigeria)

Once in a while a poet comes along and one finds that there are not enough words in the dictionary to do justice to the exquisiteness of them and their work.

Ijeoma Umebinyuo is that poet.

Born and raised in Lagos, her poetry collection ‘Questions for Ada’ left me speechless. As I devoured each poem I realised I had been holding my breath, simultaneously dismantled and invigorated by her work. Weeping, smiling, softened, hardened all in one.

In Diaspora Blues she writes words that pierce like arrows at the reader’s softest parts:

‘So, here you are
too foreign for home
too foreign for here.
Never enough for both’

There are also messages of self-love and self-acceptance in the poetry of Ijeoma Umebinyuo:

 ‘You are breathing
Perhaps a bit hurt
Perhaps a bit pained
But

You are breathing
And that’s enough to wake the angels still living in your chest’               

It is a bible for women, a celebration and reminder throughout such as ‘The woman alone, finding parts of herself she never knew existed, will always be more powerful.’

These are poems for the lost, for the found, for the brokenhearted, for the lover, for those drowning in home– they are for all of us.

 2. Michael Onsando (Kenya)

Michael is one of those rare writers whose work– be it poetry, politics, fiction or non-fiction—hits a standard of perfection which many can only dream of.

Based in Nairobi, his book ‘Something Quite Unlike Myself’ has made waves since its release last year, he describes it as being about ‘being a stranger in your own body. Being a stranger in your own city, your own country. So while the book is much about looking, and failing, to find oneself, it is also about the state of affairs in the country and reconciling the idea that somehow things will get better with the reality that – without any real work from us – they won’t.’

In ‘Still’ he explores the stereotypes which lead to the idea of the ‘Big, Black Kenyan Man’ being invincible:

‘And then a word
and then a cut
and then another.
And then pain. 

 And display of pain. 
Still, it’s okay. It’s a big black Kenyan man.
A big black Kenyan man.
And the big black Kenyan man is…

invincible’

The use of poetry to express the realities of the world around us is almost as old as the tradition of poetry itself, and it is in this that Onsando really excels. There is no topic he does not touch– from political oppression to extra-judicial killings to the words and acts of Kenyan politicians.

Michael Onsando’s style of writing can best be described as innovative, and of everything he has written, the one line which says so much is ‘She asked me about my blistered feet, I asked her about her manicured hands’.

 3. Liyou Libsekal (Ethiopia)

‘Heavy beauty’ is the phrase which encapsulates the poetry of Liyou Libsekal, winner of the Brunel African Poetry Prize 2014. Born in Ethiopia in 1990, she spent a number of years travelling, living and studying in the US before returning to Addis Ababa. Perhaps this is why every word, every line of Libsekal’s poetry left me yearning, weighed down and mesmerised. For it explores identity, displacement and the reality of growing up away from home and in all this the self and the body are presented as bearing the consequences.

Her words have a rhythm, in ‘Childhood was mud-play and dirty fingernails’ she writes

 ‘I was born to a woman whose hands are washed with ritual
balancing act
temperatures and tempers
home grown versus raised afar,
cleansing finales’

 While vivid descriptions loudly echo off the page in ‘My Father Calls me Bibish’

‘Squeezing ear ready to split wild
of gunshots hailing an end to terrors red
twenty-three times three six five
each into strands/into pores of even hands’

To do justice to Libsekal’s work requires a separate article in itself, perhaps my experience of it can be summed up in a line from her poem ‘As a Child I practiced Walking with My Eyes Closed’:‘And everything pours out of my ribs’.

4. Lebogang Mashile (South Africa)

Very few poetry lovers are unfamiliar with the work of Lebogang Mashile. Writer, poet, producer, actress and winner of numerous awards including the prestigious Noma Award for Publishing in Africa 2006. Her poems so powerful you almost forget to breathe.

In I smoked a spliff with Jesus Christ last night there is humour, yet underlying pain and darkness as she writes:

‘But he was Jesus, and I’m a sister, so I’ve been through more shit.
Cuz I’m black, and life in hard in Jozi when you’ve got tits’

‘HIV Test Number Six’ hits the reader so hard that no analysis or description will do it justice:

‘I can no longer keep count of the women you put inside of me. They are white noise on a black screen. Familiar tastes on a foreign tongue’

There is a feeling of empowerment which permeates through Mashile’s poetry as she explores race, love, and feminism. Perhaps this excerpt from ‘There is a me that I could be…’ captures it best:

‘tomorrow is an infinite portal with no ceiling and no floor. There is only the ledge that beckons us and wings designed for us to soar’

5. Ketty Nivyabandi (Burundi)

Most recently Ketty Nivyabandi made headlines when she led protests in Bujumbura, partaking in what she called ‘Burundi Activism’. This passion is not just reserved for her country, for it permeates through her dazzling poetry, which also serves as a channel for her activism. The poems take various forms, in English, in French, some translated, some not. The dynamism of this masters of words, the poignancy to#Burundi2015, a tribute to her Country:

‘may you be more than a game of cards
may you be more than dry bones
may you have flesh, lovehandles and curves…

may you be more than sour beans
may you be sumptuous feast
feeding me to sweet peace
for I (Burundi)

am a queen’

Then this lyrical summary, ‘Of love’, juxtaposing both love and loss of it:

 ‘Falling in love :

A flowering of the heart.

An opening. A stretch, out to the world. A sunflower courting the sky. Two eyes closed. A tongue, searching the sky for a drop of rain. And the way it curls after finding it…

Falling out of love :

A shedding of the heart.

A soft wrinkling.  A scar. The crisp cool air that licks the musty room clean, after a storm. A closing window too. Which must be reopened. For the heart to breathe…

All dying isn’t sad. There is the dying that precedes the living. And that’s the sacred kind…’

Kitty Nivyabandi forms part of a genre of poets whose work can best be described as compelling, and one imagines it being written while sitting in the middle of the city of Bujumbura or while dreaming.

6. Harriet Anena (Uganda)

Born and raised in Northern Uganda and currently living in the capital Kampala, Harriet Anena recently released her collection of poetry ‘A Nation in Labour’. Following the release of the book Anena gave an interview in which she was asked if ‘poetry should be separate from politics’ and her response was ‘For me, life is political.’

Evidence of this can be seen from ‘Kampala is a lover with bad breath’, the latest offering on her website. As Uganda continues to undergo its own post-election turmoil, she writes

 ‘Kampala is a lover with bad breath,
Edible lips, Firm hands that know how to cup a face before a kiss
Then He’ll breathe that thing Besigye hates into your eyes
But…

You’ll love the pearl of seven hills that dot his compound’

A Nation in Labour is an apt title for her poetry collection for the book channels anger, pain and dissatisfaction, exploring the reality of living through war and under the weight of political mistakes:

 ‘The Republic is like a headless chicken
With a body that can only flip and flap in labour
Cursing the future for coming too soon
And clinging to a grandfather clock

 That’s out of tune
Hoping time will do all
To correct a future that has gone askew’

7. Saddiq Dzukogi (Nigeria)

Saddiq is a known name in poetry circles what with him having written three collections and his work consistently published in a variety of publications includingThe Bombay Review and Deep Water Literary Journal. He has also appeared at events including the Nigerian-Korean Poetry feast and the Writivism Festival.

If there was one word to describe his poems it would be ‘versatile’ for there are no set themes and no one style. There is, however, an emotion invoking simplicity.

The finest example of this is ‘Something about Dreams’ in which he writes:

 ‘There is something about dreams
that break when I open my eyes
a whole castle had taken seconds long to build
but falls and vanishes

like smoke’

Explore his poetry further and one will discover poems of greater depth, the most blistering being ‘I am learning to love my child’:

‘I am learning to love me child
whose father split my legs
into an opened brochure
to read hallowed letters of a sacred light…’

The ease with which Dzukogi’s poetry is read, absorbed and understood combined with the impact it has is indicative of the abundance of talent he possesses. With two poetry manuscripts in the offing, he is certainly is one to watch.

8. Togara Muzanenhamo (Zimbabwe)

Born to Zimbabwean parents in Zambia before moving back to Zimbabwe, Togara Muzanenhamo has an impressive CV: poet, journalist, film script editor, and farmer. Accolades are nothing new for this man! His work has appeared in numerous publications, he represented Zimbabwe at the 2012 Poetry Parnassus and his second collection of poetry (following the impressive spirit brides) Gumiguru not only received rave reviews, but was also nominated for the 2015 Luschei Prize.

Muzanenhamo’s poetry, particularly in Gumiguru, creates a feeling of homesickness for Zimbabwe, even for those of us for whom it is not home.

Imagery features heavily in his work, in ‘Gates of Dawn’ he writes: ‘..the heat at work on the tar.. the city’s streets slow and soft with submission’ while ‘Facsimile of a Quiet Country’ ends with:

‘The sun a red miserable glow with a faint of silence this season gives, a spiritual silence wet with flying ants staining broken glass, the delicate song of rain singing through broken trusses, up to where pain opens its wings to soar through skies quietened by height.’

In ‘Textures’ a collaboration with fellow poet John Eppel, his poetry exudes a different type of magnificence, for example the spellbinding yet cryptic ‘Game of Twelve Moons’ :

‘She had been playing the game with her shadow
the game of twelve moons-
listing floorboards in the kitchen,
whispering hurriedly to herself.

The sun would rise soon,
the smell of the air would change,
as would everything else
in the forest’

Zimbabwe has birthed a number of literary greats and Togara Muzanenhamo certainly is one of them.

9. TJ Dema (Botswana)

Famous for her spine tingling spoken word performances, TJ Dema is a well-known name on both the Botswana and global poetry scene. Over the years she has represented Botswana at the London 2012 Poetry Parnassus, read and performed her work to a global audience, and was an Honorary Fellow of the University of Iowa’s International Writing Programme.

While her spoken word leaves the audience wanting more, creating an electric atmosphere in the room, her poetry on paper is no less powerful. Her most haunting poem Dreams, begins with:

‘Dreams are evil
I prefer nightmares
They show you what goes on in here
Reflects what goes on out there’

And as one continues through the poem there is no respite, the reader’s attention is held:

‘Nothing is less faithful.
Less real
Or more untrue than a dream
And does every waking moment have to be so hard’

These poems are pain inducing, seemingly birthed from a place deep inside, and just when you think the agony of words have ended, another poem is discovered:

‘Because I know you are going to ask
where I am,
I have long left the place I was
to walk slow between the trees

Where your greedy eye cannot reach me’

TJ Dema weaves her words into the minds and hearts of poetry lovers everywhere, be that through the pen or her voice.

10. Sonya Kassam (Kenya)

‘Melodious’ is the best way to describe the poetry of Sonya Kassam. In each line there is wisdom, insight, depth while each word carries some form of emotion, be it sorrow, joy, or longing.

The blog on which she posts her poetry is a treasure trove, in which many a lover can drown.

You live in my prayer begins with:

‘You live in my prayer… So frequently I plead for you
That He knows your name… Better than any of His prophets’

While Ever Met you is one of those poems which awakens in the reader a sigh of yearning or perhaps a moment of nostalgia:

‘strength never felt strong
night never saw darkness
love never tasted sweetness
words never spoke the truth
before I had ever met you’

Sonya Kassam’s poems capture the essence of good love, romantic love, painful love, spiritual love. Her work exudes a gentleness and is ultimately a tribute to the rawest of emotions within us humans, those of love and faith.