Vosvika muAmerica mazuva ano
Filed under: Books & literature, In Shona, Short Stories
Mbeu yevanhu vosvika muno yati siyanei neyedu patakasvika. Isu taivinga chikoro, kana kuzotora twumakosi twekutiwanisa mabasa ane musoro, toshanda kwemakore, tichironga kuzodzokera kumusha takagukuchira upfumi. As ava vouya ava, huwi-i, mabasa chaiwo.
Pane mukomana akasvika mwedzi wapfuura. Hameno kwazvakanhongana nemukadzi weChirungu anenge ane dzakadambuka dzose. Mungadai mavaona nhasi pavasvika pano kuzopemberera Zimbabwean Independence Day nesu, chikara chichizvidhonza haikona, hanzi ndine wangu, isu tikati, “Tamuona!” Ndamutarisa mukomana uyu ndikanzwa misodzi yoda kudonha. Nhai shiye zvayo, mwana akakurira kuruzevha, kunozvuviwa nechembere zvayo. Anga ashayei kumusha? Chero mumaruzevha zvamuzere vasikana vanogona kutsvoda wani. Read more
A world of Fiction
There is this nifty place for writers called StoryTime, where my latest short story is featured. Here is an excerpt:
The entrance to Kubatana was dotted with scantily-dressed women and peanut vendors, a curious combination about which I shook my head as we entered the flood-lit bar.
“Tonight youll see a side of me that will blow your mind away,” said Mukoma, my big brother.
“What hes saying is that he has something important to tell you,” explained Jakove, his friend.
“And to show you,” added Mukoma.
The beer hall was crowded. Shouting men waved at us. Mukoma and Jakove waved back at acquaintances scattered in the swaying crowd, where loud music competed with the loudest of voices. We threaded our way through this crowd like celebrities. After walking and stopping, walking and stopping, if we could call the slow bumping against and squeezing through dancing bodies walking, we reached a long table where, Mako, the man brother called Sekuru because he was from our village and had the same last name as our mother, sat with two women and another man. The youngest of the women would be perfect for me tonight, I thought, if she was the reason Mukoma and Jakove had brought me here. She noticed that I was looking at her and said, “Come sit here, honey!” Read more at StoryTime
Ruby Magosvongwe and Steven Millhauser on the short story
There is much talk about the short story these days. The latest authoritative views about the genre are by University of Zimbabwe professor Ruby Magosvongwe and award-winning short story writer Steven Millhauser who presented the short story as more important than the novel.
Speaking at a high school short story contest award ceremony recently, Magosvongwe labelled Zimbabwe “a short story country.” To make such a claim, one has to have a strong reason, here is hers:
“Nearly every, I emphasise EVERY Zimbabwean who has become prominent today started with short stories or has a short story collection somewhere along the way. Here we go: Dambudzo Marechera’s House of Hunger, Charles Mungoshi’s Coming of the Dry Season, David Mungoshi’s Broken Dream and Other stories, Yvonne Vera’s Why Don’t You Carve Other Animals, Stanley Nyamfukudza’s Aftermaths, Chenjerai Hove’s Matende Mashava.” (Her full speech is on the Unofungei Fungai Blog).
But why is the short such an important genre in the literature of Zimbabwe and any country for that matter? Perhaps Steven Millhauser’s New York Times essay provides a possible answer: “The short story apologizes for nothing. It exults in its shortness…its greatness is its shortness.” Millhauser also points out that the difference between a short story and a novel is that the former concentrates on some small portion of the world, “but you will find, deep within it, nothing less than the world itself.” Basically, the short story, in its modesty, albeit pretenteous, is an addictive little outlet, enabling much to be said in a few words. A novel may thrash out with overconfidence and limitless indulgence, but the short story, says Millhauser, believes in hidden power, its brevity: “It wants to be a single word.” Read more on Wealth of Ideas
The Waterman cometh
More excerpts from In Search of rain & Harvest (a novel, unpublished)
From the Deathwatch Journal
Entry: 31/12/99
10:30 p.m.
Here we stand at the gates of the new millennium. I don’t see what it is exactly that we, as humanity, have done to deserve this renewal. Perhaps the prophets of doom are right to predict Armageddon. Nothing like a bit of fire and brimstone for thorough and effective cleansing. Read more
The Keresenzia Effect: The child killer in Chirere & Tagwira’s stories
When a society’s structures fall, when its economy crumbles and there are high levels of unemployment and unimaginable suffering, its children face the highest levels of danger such a society of presents. The whole fabric of this society is endangered, and its future plunges into uncertainty. This has been true to the Zimbabwean situation, whose effects have begun to reverbrate through the country’s new literature, which shows how the children are responding to the woes of their environment. The works of Memory Chirere and Valerie Tagwira shed some light on this issue, which this study presents as the Keresenzia Effect.
In 2007, Valerie Tagwira shocked us with “Mainini Grace’s Promises”, a powerful story about the ravages of HIV/Aids, in which the child character kills her aunt at the end. The reader can see the frustration in the girl, her anger at the broken promise of Mainini Grace, whose betrayal to the family is that she has fallen victim of the pandemic that has killed other members of the girl’s family. If Mainini should be the source of hope, why has she allowed herself to be a victim? In a fit of rage, her niece pushes her to the ground, killing her in the process. Read more
Laughing to keep from crying
Excerpts from In Search of Rain & Harvest (a novel, unpublished)
We really believed that we knew it all. Our anger and self- righteousness sat coiled like a beady- eyed serpent on the floor of our guts. We could not understand why the world failed to recognise our talent and brilliance.
“They’ve rejected my manuscript!”
An irate dragon could not have breathed worse flames.
“Why?” I asked.
She threw her hands out into the air.
“The same old crap!” Read more
Sadza paChimanimani
Filed under: Books & literature, In Shona, Short Stories
Zvinoita sadza! Takangoti tichiburuka bhazi paChimanimani Town Center kwava kuchimhanyira kwaibva munhuwi waro. Ipapo ndanga ndabva mukusangana neumwe murume wechidiki seni, uyo anga andiona ndichidzedzerekera kumusuwo webhazi ndokuti, “Manangepi ishe?”
Ini ndokuchitiwo, “Tisu maticha matsva ekwaNdima.”
Akabva asimuka ndokunangawo mukova seni, apo bhazi ranga rozhamba rananga musika.
“Zvatoita tawandirira. Neniwo ndakananga kwaNdima; ndiri kunotanga basa paprimary.” Read more
A woman in rebirth
In the beginning is a word, and the word becomes a voice shut up in her bones; in a whisper, it weaves itself into her loins telling her to burst forth like a bud from her self-made cocoon.
She hurries away from the word wearing a resolve to find her lost seed. But her heart thickens within cobwebs hanging inside the crevices of her being. The voice groans inside her. With her left toe, she scribbles a note on the ground for her grandmother, and another for herself, and then she drags her feet, shoulders clumped as if she is carrying a heavy load. Read more
Making sense of Vongi
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She arrived on a Sunday, dressed up for church but not intending to go to any church. She just wanted to see her aunt, to show her that she was grown up, able to penetrate Harare on her own.
“But tell me, how did you make it? The last time I talked to brother he said no one knew where you were. Everyone kept their ears open for the day someone would announce the marriage ceremony, or to hear the worst of news,” Maiguru said.
“I was out and about, doing this and that,” she said.
I leaned closer to hear this.
“I knew, secretly, that you were up to some mischief. Now look who shows up at my door, in Harare, hundreds of kilometers away from Mazvihwa! How did you do this?”
Vongi laughed briefly, then she let her lip dangle to let a smile linger a little longer. Read more
Echoes of Young Voices short story competition
Young writers up to the age of 25 years are invited to submit short stories and poems on any theme for a young writers’ book publication. The short stories should be between 1500 and 5000 words and in English only. Poems can be of any length. An unlimited number of entries may be submitted. Please include personal details in all of your entries. Handwritten and typed entries are accepted. All submissions to be made at British Council, 2nd floor, Zimdef House, west wing, Bulawayo on or before the 30th of September 2008.
For more details on the competition contact Butholezwe Nyathi on 0913 017 831 or alternatively on the following email address: kgosinyathi@yahoo.com.
On The Zimbo Jam- Congo Fever in Harare with DJ Ben MontrésorThe dance floor is open at The Mannenberg on Friday 12 March, when the popular Harare venue opens its doors for its first-ever west-African dance-off, Congo Fever!’ featuring French DJ Ben Montrsor, hot off Jozi turntables, back-to-back with one of the most popular rhumba outfits in Zimbabwe today – The Real Sounds.
- Harare's Top Divas in Explosive Women's Day CollaborationA stunning lineup of some of Zimbabwe’s most beautiful voices come together this weekend for a scintillating display of divas uniting for a purpose - to celebrate and salute women of the world as part of the International Women’s Day celebrations that are taking place around the world this week.
- Culture Week 2010 Dates AnnouncedThe National Arts Council of Zimbabwe has released the dates for the celebration of Culture Week this year. The theme is Zimbabwe’s Cultural Diversity at 30 and events will look at how well we have preserved and embraced different cultures around the country.
- Congo Fever in Harare with DJ Ben Montrésor