Growing Up in Africa

I happened upon this blog thanks to Deborah Ahenkorah from the Baobab Prize.

It is a series from Africans around the continent about their childhood. Africa as seen through non-African eyes is often all about sadness- starvation, poverty, disease. But that's not Africa, or at least that is just a slice of Africa. Africa is about family. It's about friends and culture and rich languages. Food and school. It's about kids not getting their parents and then growing up and suddenly understanding. It's about values and standards. It's about love and sadness. It's multidimensional and fascinating.

I love love love this blog! It is just what we need. Do yourself a favour and pass by.

And the Winner is...

The winner of a signed copy of my latest romance novella, Can He Be The One?, is Catarina!!

So Catarina, drop me an email at lakubuitsile@gmail.com and send me your postal address so I can send you your book.

Congratulations!! And thanks to everyone who left a comment.

Does Mother Tongue Affect The Way We View Our World?

There is a fascinating article in the New York Times Magazine about how our mother tongue impacts not on how we understand the world necessarily but on what we are obligated to pay attention to and therefore how those details impact on how we view the world.

An example is given of languages such as most European languages that give objects either a masculine or feminine classification. When speaking of these objects they must pay attention to if the objects are masculine or feminine. This seems to affect their perceptions of those objects. This classification is different in different languages. For example a bridge is masculine in Spanish and feminine in German. When study participants were asked to grade various objects, Spanish speakers found bridges to be strong and sturdy while Germans graded them on their elegance.

What I found very interesting was the way we position things in space. I might say it is to my left, or behind me when I say where an object is for example. An Aboriginal tribe in Australia the Guugu Yimithirr, do not have words such as that. Instead everything is related to the cardinal directions. No matter where they are, they are aware of the cardinal directions, from a very young age. They might say the book is on the southwest corner of the bookshelf. For most English speakers such directions would be almost impossible to follow.

The article explains how this way of orientating oneself has an impact on how you see the world. If you are from a language that uses geographical directions, two identical rooms in a hotel which are on opposite sides of a hallway would not be identical at all, unlike for an English speaker.

I thought when I read this about how often seasoned writers advise newbies to write their story, don't copy others since we all have our own unique perspective and maybe this article is another piece of evidence about why this is so important.

Win a Copy of my Latest Book!!

My second romance, Can He Be The One?, is now officially out! I got my author's copies today and would like to give one to you my dear readers.

If you'd like to be in the running to win a signed copy just leave a comment below. In a week, I'll put your names in a cup and pick a winner.

In the meanwhile Sapphire Press has a new blog! Stop over to learn about their other titles and to read the blurb about Can He Be The One?- leave a comment to let them know you've been around!

I'm Being Terrorised by my Dining Room Table

I've always blamed my lack of adult behaviour on my patchy upbringing. When I get scared by skincare products or don't know the reason why all plates on a table must match, I blame it on my parents. They were busy with their own dramas and teaching me about how to fold a cloth napkin just wasn't high on the list. To make things worse, I'm not a girly-girl, I never was. I only knew bras and panties were supposed to match each other when I learned it on a recent Oprah show. The same goes for the way my family is run. The mother is apparently the leader in all things domestic, but if your leader has no guidebook you're likely going to go astray, it's almost assured.

Families have all sorts of secrets, ones they don't even know they have, and mine is no exception. We just hobble along not knowing we're doing things wrong, that is unless a stranger enters your home. Once the stranger is let in, the scowling look, the disdain in his eyes tells it all. You have violated a sacred domestic law. Anyone would know it- why don't you?

A stranger has entered our home. He is out of our league. We don't know people like him, we never have. And he seems to have a standard that we are not living up to no matter how hard we try. I feel terrorised in my own home. But it's too late. He's been invited, everything has been paid. There is no turning back.

Regular readers of my blog will know I recently built an office and moved into it. This left a gaping hole in our house. Apparently that hole in other homes is called a dining room. After a bit of research I realised what we needed was a dining table to take up all of the space in this new dining room. I innocently went out and bought one.

And now it's here.
I think it's obvious this dining room table has no business in our home, in a home headed by ME. Evidence can clearly be seen in this photograph.

Exhibit A: The chaotic, over full bookcases in the background.
Exhibit B: The shiny, pristine gloss of the unscratched table top.
Exhibit C: The carelessly flung computer cable in the foreground of the photo
Exhibit D: The cat hair-less olive cushions on the dining room chairs

The evidence is clear. This table does not belong in this house. It is a stranger. But it stays. It imposes its ways on us. We seem unable to withstand its demands.

As you can see I bought a vase- no more empty mayonnaise jars for flowers brought in from the garden. The Table will not have such behaviour. I've bought a tin of Mr Min- and I use it. My god- I'm even considering buying coasters and table mats!

Be warned by what has happened to my family. Offices are all well and good- but beware the gaping hole that remains behind. It may force you to do things out of character, it may have you inviting terrorists into your own home and, believe me, that can never come to anything good.

Ouma's Autumn

I found this little book at the Cape Town Book Fair almost by accident. I had a spare few minutes and decided to take a quick tour of the stands, something I don't usually have time for. I spotted some lovely photos and stepped up to the stand to get more information about them. The woman showed me the photos, they were actually cards one of which had the photo below:

I thought the photos were so lovely I bought two cards. Then the woman told me that the photos actually came from a book and she handed me Ouma's Autumn by Patricia Schonstein Pinnock (African Sun Press).

South Africa because of its cruel past has many sad stories. The Group Areas Act has produced some of the saddest. Imagine finding a piece of land, and through hard work, you manage to put up a house. Slowly you meet your neighbours and you all begin your families. Your kids grow up together. Your neighbourhood creates a history intricately woven into the history of your own family. This is your home. And then legislation decides, based solely on the colour of your skin, that that land, that area, that neighbourhood is no longer for you. You're given a moment to collect your things and you're thrown far away to places where only strangers live to buildings with no history at all.

Ouma's Autumn is the story of a little girl and her grandmother (her ouma) and their life in Harfield Village in Cape Town before the Group Areas Act tears them all apart. The story is told in first person from the little girl's point of view, somehow this makes it all more heartbreaking. Like a child would, the truth is told simply, just as seen, with no embellishments.

An example is when her grandfather returns from fighting in WWII. The soldiers had been promised "land and honour" by General Smuts but upon her grandfather's return, after he "left that part of a man which makes him believe life is something good" on the war fields of Europe, the General's promise was forgotten.

"And at home there was no honour waiting for him. General Smuts gave the boys who returned a wheelbarrow and a shovel and only the injured got a pension. Sam (her grandfather) asked for the piece of land he had been promised but he only got to understand that he'd been short-changed."

They lived in Hartfield, the girl and her Ouma, on a "...small road called Pembroke, so small you must watch for it..." The girl was left at home with the old woman while everyone else went off to school or work.
"Every morning I sat on the stoep with my Ouma watching life in the road. We knew all the families in the area and everything that happened."

Because of their daily seat, they were one of the first to spot the new danger. "Then one day Group Areas came to the neighbourhood... and my dreams began to fall apart."

This is a lovely little book, a book that teaches what is now history, in a simple, personal, matter of fact way that will take up a firm place in your mind, not easily nudged to the side. It has beautiful photos taken by Donald Pinnock. I tried to find the book on the internet and the only copy I found is $47.75, it is ranked at Albris as a collectible, I can believe that in a way. Scary I nearly passed this lovely book by.

Cape Town Book Fair and the Joburg Bed Launch

I am back, well most of me. A friend of mine believes that when we travel we leave bits of ourselves behind that come home at their own pace. Because of this, we take a while to be fully home. I imagine a bit of me still wandering around Cape Town Convention Centre or sitting in Fiona Snycker's sunny Johannesburg garden. They will straggle home, I hope, but in the meantime the parts of me back in Botswana are trying their best to get to work.

I'm beginning to feel as if my trip to the Cape Town Book Fair is a bit of a literary pilgrimage. I get filled up with writerly talks and talking, with books and publishing, with friends old and new. I fill my tank to power me through the next year.

I intend to write a few columns about the Book Fair but thought I'd point out some of the highlights:

Bonty at her stall

1. This year there was a fantastic collection of stalls for small publishers from around the continent funded by a German NGO. My friend Bonty Botumile (Thari E Ntsho Publishers) was among the publishers who had a mini stall within the African Collective stall. I also met two publishers I only knew from the internet, Jane Morris and her husband Brian from amaBooks in Zimbabwe and Bibi Bakare-Yusuf from Cassava Republic Press. All were part of this very important initiative to get African publishers ( and writers) working together.

Author of Trinity on Air, Fiona Snyckers at a panel discussion on Chic Lit and Women's Fiction

2.Great panels and other talks and workshops as usual. Listened to Wole Soyinka (and got my book signed) and Damon Galgut (and got my book signed). I'm a big fan of Sarah Lotz as people who read my blog know. I loved her book Exhibit A and I bought her new one Tooth and Nailed (got it signed and in the queue she pointed out that she had included me in her acknowledgments- I was severely chuffed about that). I got the opportunity to read my children's book Lorato and her Wire Car at the Vivlia stand on Monday. A group of children from a nearby school were my audience.

3. I met the folks publishing the romance books I've been writing, Kwela, and their staff Nelleke, Lindsay, and Wendy. I got a copy of my latest, Can He Be the One?, and it looks lovely!

4. I met with Michelle Cooper at Tafelberg and got things sorted for my young adult book, Aunt Lulu which will hopefully be out next year May.

5. I met up with one of my El Gouna co-horts Seni Seneviratne. We spent some time together on Saturday and then went to a poetry reading at Frieda's Cafe later that night. She read her lovely hedgehog poem and that made me quite happy.

Contributors to The Bed Book of Short Stories: (back) Isabella Morris, Nia Magoulianiti-McGregor, Jayne Bauling, Arja Salafranca, me (front) Rita Britz and Novuyo Rose Tshuma
(Photo courtesy of Isabella Morris)

From Cape Town I was off to Johannesburg for the launch of The Bed Book of Short Stories that I helped compile and in which I also have a story. I was graciously hosted by the lovely Snyckers family. The launch was at a beautiful bookstore in Melville called Love Books.

Seven of the contributors showed up (as well as quite a few other people) and we had a grand time. We each read excerpts from our stories and talked a bit about how we approached the theme of bed. At the end of the evening all books in stock were sold out!
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Interested in winning a FREE, signed, Bed Book of Short Stories as well as a few other fantastic books from Southern Africa??
Pop over to author Judy Croome's blog for some great book giveaways!

The Pathology of White Privilege

Please go and watch this video of Tim Wise, author of White Like Me: Reflections of Race from a Privileged Son. It is very important. It's long but stick with it.

I grew up in America, poor and white. I now live in Southern Africa, still white but not so poor anymore. Though I could be thrown in the pile of "white liberal" I've always felt slightly uncomfortable. Of course there is guilt and then anger at why I must carry guilt when I got no benefits from racial oppression, my family was poor for generations. But is that true? Of course not. I benefit everyday from my white skin - even just in the fact that mentally I see no blocks ahead of me. I wouldn't be able to think like that if I was black.

I know- both in USA and here in Botswana- I have inherent advantage because of my skin colour. When it is made blatant, I shout about it, I have done it here on this blog. Wise makes so many very important points in this video, but one that I really only now truly understood is that I don't have to carry all white people on my back as people of colour do. My whiteness does not come with a package of racist stereotypes that will be applied to me the second I do anything wrong ("Well she IS white anyway, what would you expect?"). Not like people of colour. That alone makes my journey easier, even without purposefully built racist blocks in my road. This applies for all white people. We ALL benefit from our whiteness. Full stop.

In the video, Wise speaks of the pathology of being white, how it harms white Americans especially but I think something similar can be applied to Southern Africa, a place heavily affected by the politics of race. He explains how when the Europeans first went to America, both blacks and poor whites were indentured labourers. They began to collude against the rich white land owners and rebellions broke out. This was when the concept of whiteness was first established. The rich whites threw the crumbs of whiteness to the poor whites to divide them from the blacks. The rebellion was quelled. Now not only did the poor whites think they were more akin to the rich whites, which of course they weren't as their situation was much nearer to the poor blacks, they were willing to fight to defend their whiteness. They fought in the civil war to maintain slavery- not for themselves- but for the rich whites. Racism was used to destabilise the poor so there could be no rebellion. It worked out dandy for the rich whites- and still does, and does nothing to destabilise the status quo for the rich whites.

This white privileged position allows the whites the privilege of not caring what others think. People of colour must always know what white people are thinking if they are to survive. Whites don't have that burden. But, as Wise points out, that arrogance of disinterest is a pathology that has and will continue to harm the white people themselves. This is happening in Iraq, in Afghanistan, in white suburban schools, in the drug laden anxiety filled minds of white Americans.

Most white people (in America and in Southern Africa) feel no need to change their position of privilege, they don't want to pay a debt they did not make. Wise argues that that is not a smart position to take as the problem must be solved, and the debt must be paid, either now or later, and later he says it will be more difficult. He says it must be solved now- "not because we are guilty- but because we are here".

Watch the video and tell me what you think.

"Answers to the Worst Writerly Questions" Game

There are some standard questions writers get asked which all writers hate. Today we're going to play a game where you get to answer those questions the way you REALLY wanted to.

First, what is the question you hate most?
and
What is your best answer?

I'll start.
Question: Why did you become a writer?
Answer: Because I have masochistic tendencies and I don't mind being perpetually broke.

Who's next?

Batswana Writers Speak out on National Issues

This morning with tea I was reading this week's Botswana Gazette and I was very happy. Of course Unity Dow and Andrew Sesinyi are many things, not just novelists, but they are novelists and are speaking out on two very important issues facing Botswana right now: the new liquor legislation and the declaration of assets by elected officials.

Our president, President Ian Khama, pushed through drastic tax increases on alcohol in an attempt to deal with the alcohol problem in the country. He has a personal hatred of alcohol that unfortunately he wants to impose on the country. In an interview in the Gazette Andrew Sesinyi points out that the not well thought out legislation has done nothing to curb alcoholism except put more economic pressure on already struggling families. He points out that the way to attack alcoholism is through rehabilitation and addiction programmes such as Alcoholics Anonymous. He criticises Khama's simplistic attack on the problem as a paternalistic, "bana ga ba utlwe"(the children are naughty) method, a position the President takes on many issues. A position that fails with adults who find it, rightly so, insulting.

In Unity Dow's new column, "A View from Left Field", in The Gazette, she tackles the sticky issue of the declaration of assets by elected officials. She says that Batswana by nature are a modest people. A cattle farmer with thousands of head of cattle will speak about going to check his small calf instead of boasting about his massive herd. She thinks this may lie behind politicians reluctance to pass this important piece of legislation. But as she points out 1) it will curtail abuse of office and conflict of interest when it comes to the politicians business interests and 2) No one forced these people to run for office; if they want a public life they must make their assets public, if they don't- then don't run for office.

In another country far away, another writer has stepped up to the political plate. Wole Soyinka has started his own political party. One wonders, would the world be a better place if writers ran it? Hmmm....

Cape Town Book Fair Excitement

I've booked everything for the Cape Town Book Fair (CTBF) which is happening from the 31st July until 2nd August. This will be my third time there. I fund myself. I have no talk lined up. No stall to attend to. I go there because it is always beneficial to me. The money spent is never regretted. I see it as an essential business trip.

So what do I do there? First, I attend as many interesting talks as I can. I love hearing writers talk. I like to know about their process. Not to copy it, because I know my path is my own, but more from the aspect of a reader, actually-their thoughts behind their book, how they got from idea to book. I also like industry talks: talks about ebooks or book cover design or anything book or publishing related.

I like to meet up with friends. This year I have all types of people I want to see. Cape Town friends, internet friends, even some Botswana friends. My friend Bontekanye Botumile has a stall there for her self-published children's books and I'm excited to see what she does with the stall to market herself and her books.

This year I'll be meeting up with some of my publishers. It's amazing in a way that last year at the Book Fair is where I met my first publisher in South Africa and this year I will see her again, but I'm happy to say I will also be meeting up with my two new South African publishers as well. For us in Botswana, South Africa is the next biggest market after ours. It's sort of a stepping stone to overseas markets such at Europe and America. Until I wrote this paragraph I hadn't realise that in one year I'd made such progress in South Africa. Four books with the publisher I met at last year's CTBF, two with the second publisher and one with the third. That's good work for a year.

I'll hopefully get a few columns out of the Book Fair too, so that will be handy.

Many writers here think I'm wasting my time and money by going to CTBF, but I don't think so. Face to face connections matter. Learning new things about the industry matters. Being around writers matters. Making new contacts is essential. I see the book fair as a vital business expense.

The Real Face of War

Though I have not seen the movie Restrepo I found this article at AlterNet very interesting. In it, Nick Turse speaks about the fallacy behind the movie which follows an American battalion in the remote areas of Afghanistan. The movie has apparently garnered accolades for showing the "real face of war".

Turse wonders how it can be the real face of war when the people most affected, the Afghan citizens, are not interviewed. Turse describes the Americans as "combat tourists" because, despite the fact that many come from low income American families where joining the army appeared to be their only choice, they, unlike the Afghans, have choices. The Afghan citizens have no choice. The Americans have brought war to their doorstep on a daily basis, relentless and without mercy.

Turse writes:
In the opening scenes, shot from an armored vehicle (before an improvised explosive device halts a U.S. Army convoy), we catch sight of Afghan families in a village. When the camera pans across the Korengal Valley, we see simple homes on the hillsides. When men from Battle Company head to a house they targeted for an air strike and see dead locals and wounded children, when we see grainy footage of a farm family or watch a young lieutenant, a foreigner in a foreign land, intimidating and interrogating an even younger goat herder (whose hands he deems to be too clean to really belong to a goat herder) -- here is the real war. And here are the people Junger and Hetherington should have embedded with if they wanted to learn -- and wanted to teach us -- what American war is really all about.

Why Do People Still Love Detective Books?

On the weekend PD James spoke at the Words Literary Festival in Devon UK about why she thinks readers continue to go back to detective novels and find something to interest them. According to her, it is about certainty. In the changing world we live in, James feels that morality has yet to catch up with technology. "It’s a world in which it’s difficult to feel entirely at home. That’s why people feel relief in going back to the detective stories of the 1930s, going back to Miss Marple’s St Mary Mead, where there’s a more assured morality, where people knew where they were,”she said.

I love detective fiction but for me it's always about the puzzle and the way that the characters behave in order to solve it or to avoid it being solved.

What about you? Do you read detective fiction? If so, why? Do you go back to the tried and tested, as PD James suggests, so that you can find a certain moral playing field? I'd love to hear what you have to say.

Operation Complete

I've paid the builder and he is officially finished. Thought you'd all like to see the office. Still haven't moved in yet. It needs a clean and a few little details finished (blue glass in those little windows in the door, etc) but I intend to move in very soon, maybe on the weekend. Yeeeeeee!!!!!

Writing Without a Net

A wonderful thing happened to me in Egypt. I'd been struggling with my rough draft and a brain that had too much external noise to find the silence where it could meet my characters. I was feeling insecure with my writing. It was so shallow. I was a poser. I would never get under the skin of this novel to see the truth in anything.

Despite this, I decided I would read the first bit of the manuscript at the public reading at the end of the residency. It was not ready for public consumption, really, but I needed to give them something of the work they had paid for me to have the opportunity to write. So I printed it out on paper. The book is about a married woman who has a one night stand with a much younger man. She immediately regrets what she has done, more so because he will not leave her alone. He stalks her. At the beginning of the book, the place I chose to read, he has left a blue scarf at her gate, a present for her. The scarf is caught up in the hedge, blowing in the dry winter air.

When I wrote this I only wrote this for the image. I wanted the reader to feel the shock of this cerulean scarf in the browns of a winter landscape. Did her husband see it as he left for work? Was her secret out? It was a shallow surface kind of image. Writing I thought I'd been doing. That I'd been fighting with.

Then I printed it out and practiced for the reading and suddenly there was something else. the whole passage was a metaphor, she was caught. I didn't do this consciously. I let my brain free. I was writing without a net. I typed the words but I was not in complete control of them. I was recently helping another writer with her story. She's an established editor and I advised her to be more reckless, try not to control things. A hard task for an editor. It reminded me of this incident in Egypt.

What we've really written, what we meant, can't be seen straight away. We have no idea what we've done. It needs a bit of time and distance for us to discover exactly what happened when we recklessly let our brains do as they pleased.

So get rid of that net, and maybe the wire too. Time to float out there on air and see where it take us, it's usually quite wonderful.

The Ghana Makes it to the Semi-finals Corner and Office Progress

My house and everyone in it is waiting for Friday's game. We have a corner set up in the sitting room for Ghana. Ghanian flag, Black Star Vuvuzela (can you see it) and the faithful, and ever hopeful Zakhumi.

Also thought you might like to see an office update photo. We're getting to the last stretch- I hope. The electricity guys have started. I won't have power though until after 19 July since I'm going for the madly expensive option. I'll need to take money out of my savings to fund it. I'm being optimistic that next year I'll have some money again and be able to put in a real swimming pool, so I'm making my office a new power point. It's okay. In Botswana, we have 11% inflation and only get (at best) 6% at the bank when we save. If we leave our money in the bank for a rainy day, the economic termites eat at and we actually lose money. I think it's better to invest in my house.

Two Very Nice Things

I got news that the One World anthology of which my story, The Rich People's School, is a part, is selling quite well. All proceeds go to Doctors Without Borders and a royalty cheque is ready to be turned over as I write this. I'm quite excited about this as the book came together when a group of writers met online and we did everything from beginning to end and then handed it over to the publisher. I was very proud to be part of the project and am happy it is doing so well. Read more about the One World process here and here.

I was also happy to have my story mentioned in this review of the book.



The Bed Book of Short Stories is now out. I haven't got my copies yet as I asked the publisher not to send as I would collect them in Cape Town but everybody who has seen it is quite excited. I was the compiler and have a story inside so have a real interest in it doing well. The ebook can be purchased here. Can buy books here or you can contact the publisher about getting copies at cdhiggs@gmail.com.

There is a review of the book at LitNet. Here's an excerpt:

There are so many more stories in this collection of thirty which deserve mention, but it’s impossible to pay tribute to them all. Suffice to say that this is a Quality Street box of stories: each entirely different from the one before and each completely delicious in its own right. Do yourself a favour and spoil yourself with this delightful collection. Take a copy, well, to bed. It’s obviously the only place to savour The Bed Book of Stories.

Yeah for Modjaji Books! Yeah for the Rain Queen!
Support small independent publishers and buy the book. Please!

Will the World Take Home Ubuntu from South Africa?

This is such a great article in the Huffington Post about how superbly South Africa has hosted the World Cup, seriously practicing what they preach. Yeah for our neighbour!!

Read the entire article by Shari Cohen but here is an excerpt:

I just hope I have learned enough to bring back a little piece of Ubuntu to my homeland, where perhaps with a little caring and a little water, it will take root as naturally as it does here, in the cradle of civilization. It's funny, many people in America still ask me, "are the people in Africa very primitive?" Yes, I know, amazing someone could ask that but they do. And when they do, I usually explain that living in a mud hut does not make one primitive, however, allowing kids to sell drugs to other kids and engage in drive-by killings -- isn't that primitive behavior? I think it is. When I think of Ubuntu and my recent experiences here, I think America has much to learn from Africa in general, in terms of living as a larger village; and as human beings who are all interconnected with each other, each of us having an affect on our brothers and sisters.

Interesting to hear your comments.

Bessie Head Literature Awards 2010

Saturday 26th June was the fourth Bessie Head Literature Awards held at the National Museum in Gaborone. Professor F. Mnthali from the University of Botswana English Department was the keynote speaker and read one of his favourite Bessie Head short stories, The Old Woman, from her collection Tales of Tenderness and Power.

Then there was the awarding of prizes and readings by the winners.


SHORT STORY:
Winner: Mr. Legodile Seganabeng, "The Moon Has Eyes"
First runner-up: Ms. Atang Mogome, "The Evil Messenger of God"
Second runner-up: Ms. Jelena Ivancevic, "The Rise and the Fall in All of Us"

NOVEL:
Winner: Ms. Tshetsana Senau, Travelling to the Sun: The Diary of Ruth
First runner-up: Mr. Patrick Melusi Mtunzie, The Calabash of Life in the Diaspora
Second runner-up: Mr. Wazha Lopang, If Mother Only Knew

CHILDREN'S STORY:
(There's no photo for Jenny Robson as she was ill and couldn't attend. I read her story for her but we've seen enough photos of me)

Winner: Ms. Jenny Robson, "The Right Time"
First runner-up: Mrs. Reshoketjoe Lilford, "The Christmas Dress"
Second runner-up: Ms. Dabilo Malebogo Mokobi, "Grampi"

Above is a photo of one of the Bessie Head Trust members, Dr. Leloba Molema, from the University of Botswana, and Thulaganyo Jankey, sales and marketing manager of Pentagon Publishers, the sponsors of the Bessie Head awards for the past four years. He was launching the books produced form last year's awards.

Two of the highlights of the event was the open mic and the listening of a radio interview of Bessie Head. The interview was quite a surprise for me. I'd never heard Bessie Head's voice before. She was soft spoke but confidant and very intelligent, political and well read. It was lovely to listen to I wish we could have heard the entire interview.

For the first time the room for the event was overflowing with people. When open mic time rolled around there were plenty of people ready to read their work. The headmistress from Diratsame Junior Secondary School brought a few of her students from their writing club and one read her poem. Another secondary school student, Kolobetso Selemena (in the photo below), from Ledumadumane Junior Secondary School, also recited two poems. It was very exciting seeing such young people so enthusiastic about writing.


The Bessie Head Trust and Pentagon Publishers should be very proud of the way that this award has grown. It is now the only literary award in Botswana and it is finally getting the recognition that it deserves and serving the memory of Botswana's most famous writer with honour.

My 100th Follower!!

I just noticed now that while I was away to Gaborone being re-fueled with literary energy at the Bessie Head Awards, my blog followers quietly slipped to 100. That seems an achievement of some sort and I thought it should be duly noted.
And now I have.
Thank you dear readers!!!
:)