Mistaken for Petina Gappah

Finally, the Book Café in Harare has a Book Club. Last night I joined 14 others in a discussion of Uwem Akpan’s book ‘Say You’re One of Them’.  

Well, not everyone was discussing per se. Our numbers were boosted just a little by the cancellation of the Women In Media event that was planned for the Book Café main stage the same evening (a few curious individuals ventured to the back room where we were tucked away and were warmly invited to join us). They sat quietly curious as the 6 or 7 people who had read the book discussed it. Others, who had just come along for the discussion did chip in with questions and observations and requests to read the book (not available locally as far as I know). Which is also part of this book club deal. If book club does not make you curious to read the books discussed, then frankly it hasn’t done its job! And if you want to read this book, copies will eventually make their way to the shelves of the Harare City Library where it is hoped the book club discussions might continue (and other events cascade, a reading, theatre, films that expand the issues?). That is half the reason for my attendance.

The other half is because it is just such a good idea, made a reality through the combined efforts of Sunanda Ray, Book Café staff Extra-Blessings and Taku as well as Irene Staunton from Weaver Press.

Zimbabwean authors Simmer Chinodya and Virginia Phiri were in attendance last night (cool) and lent the weight of their literary experience to the discussion. Virginia had in fact read the book when invited by USAID to participate in the oldest continuous book club in America, the Chautauqua Literary and Scientific Circle (CLSC) and shared with us that she had found it both a rewarding and a compelling read. Shimmer took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes vigorously and peered deeply at the book, eventually taking the copy I had borrowed home on loan to read. I do so hope they both keep attending.

So what did we share, this largish, diverse and tentative group?

The five dark and seemingly hopeless stories, told in a child’s voice each time was almost too painful to bear for some. Not just an African tale, we agreed, but a universal one (can the brutality on the street of Nairobi be any less than those on the streets of Brazil or the disappointment in the heart of the two Ethiopian girls forced apart by culture be any less so than in the hearts of the London parents whose son was shot dead by racists). So let not the book be too quickly judged as portraying Africa as victims when victims today are everywhere. We appreciated the books honesty in relating the harshest of lived realities that some of Africa’s inhabitants face. Every story told a tale of coping.

The authors skill was noted in how beautifully Uwem painted such an ugly picture and how well a child’s voice this grown, Jesuit priest spoke. In the final short story, to which the book is titled, he manages to drain Rwanda’s rivers of it’s broken and bloated bodies and replace this image instead with the voices of those dead. Never again his stories whisper. Never again. 

Discussions wound down after some one and a half hours had passed. What book next we asked? Purple Hibiscus by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie was suggested and accepted (locally available through Weaver Press). Another Nigerian, she also tackles the harder aspects of life in Africa through the narrative voice of a teenage girl, but in this one does the sun shine through? Look out for the notice. 

We stood up, shook hands, introduced ourselves and mingled a little. It was at this point I discovered what must have been the combined effect of my late entrance, Sunanda’s quick greeting of ‘Welcome Katrina’ and my association with Harare City Library that had led at least one participant to confuse my identity.

‘Are you Petina Gappah?’ Munyaradzi asked after he introduced himself. Interesting.