A commentator on Amazon gives the book a 1, with the following comment (among others): "Some things shouldn't be remembered at all because they just bring back bad blood. Nat Turner should not be remembered. If you want to know more about him, read one of the many scholarly histories on university websites. This book is nothing but gore porn." I think this is indeed a complex point, and was raised in discussions of Spielberg's Schindlers List. If you already know your answer to this kind of question, you know whether you ought to read Nat Turner. If not, think about the question before reading.
Recently in Books About Africa Category
A commentator on Amazon gives the book a 1, with the following comment (among others): "Some things shouldn't be remembered at all because they just bring back bad blood. Nat Turner should not be remembered. If you want to know more about him, read one of the many scholarly histories on university websites. This book is nothing but gore porn." I think this is indeed a complex point, and was raised in discussions of Spielberg's Schindlers List. If you already know your answer to this kind of question, you know whether you ought to read Nat Turner. If not, think about the question before reading.
In addition to being a pleasure to read, the book raises three interesting and fundamental questions:
- How should a historian (professional and amateur) "read" the surviving historical record, when we can reasonably assume it has been biased - many "voices" of the past never make it into the historical record.
- The ambivalence of the British in enforcing their anti-slavery ordinances, in light of their interest in stability and own role in fostering the slave trade to begin with, provides a context for addressing enduring ethical dilemmas about compromises, responsibility, and justifications. Likewise for the ambivalence of the "important men" of colonial indigenous societies.
- How was slavery different in Africa compared with New World slavery? What kinds of generalizations might be appropriate to make? And then of course, this issue prompts us to think about the enduring effects of slavery. How has the collective experience of 300 years of slavery trade left traces in social institutions of present-day African societies.
You only have to read the title to get your first dose of shock. Age 10 and divorced? How does a 10 year old girl even get married off in the first place?
This is the story of Nujood, a young girl from an impoverished family in Yemen. Her father forces her to marry a man three times her age. As the father says, the family will be better off with one less mouth to feed. The husband agrees not to touch her until she reaches puberty, but the very first night he rapes Nujood. The rapes continue every night, she is beaten, forced to abandon school and is forbidden to play with other children in order to maintain the family's honor.
Crying to her mother and father does nothing; they tell her to accept her role as new wife. With no one to stand up for her, Nujood decides to sneak out of the house to the courthouse and demand a divorce. After a highly publicized hearing, her divorce is granted, her story becoming well known across the world.
The book is straightforward, short and sweet; obviously written in a child's point of view. There is not much historical background or any detailed look into the religious and cultural reasons behind forcing underage girls to marry men two or even three times their age. The book is definitely inspirational. I was amazed by Nujood's courage and her determination. When she grows up, she says that she wants to become a lawyer to help other young girls like herself. I hope she follows her dream. It will be interesting to see what becomes of Nujood in the next 25 years.
And so begins Malidoma Patrice Somé's Of Water and the Spirit: Ritual, Magic and Initiation in the Life of an African Shaman, which I can say has been one of my favorite books to read this year.
In his autobiography, Somé seeks to create an understanding of two drastically different worlds: the Dagara of Burkina Faso and the western world. Somé was born in a Dagara village during the early 1950s but is kidnapped by a French Jesuit missionary as a "child of God"--trained to be a priest--where he suffers verbal, physical and sexual abuse. At the age of 20 he escapes and finds his way back to his village but, having lost his ability to speak local language and having a European education, he is not accepted by the villagers ("they understood literacy as an eviction of a soul from its body...to read was to participate in an alien form of magic that was destructive to the tribe"). He undergoes a dangerous 6-week long initiation in order to become one of his people again.
A quick Google search on Somé tells me that he holds three masters degrees, two doctorates and taught at the University of Michigan. He travels the world sharing his story. The book says he lives in Oakland, though it was published in 1994. Something tells me that meeting Somé would be an incredible experience.
I read Deborah Scroggins'
"Emma's War" while I was in Togo. Emma McCune was a young, beautiful British woman who came to Sudan as a relief worker and ended up marrying a rebel warlord.
I enjoyed the book but did so mostly because of its descriptions of Sudan. Scroggins is a journalist and it shows; the detail and in-depth explanations demonstrate the extensive research she did. It's very well written. I learnt a great deal more on the country's history: colonization, civil war, massacres and the horrific famines.
While Emma's story is interesting, it doesn't really merit an entire book. (In the book itself it says that Emma tried to get writers to help her with her autobiography. They responded with uninterest; one telling her, "There isn't anything there but a black man boffing a white woman.") Thankfully, Scroggins also recognized this. Instead, the book interweaves Emma's story with the history of Sudan as well as Scroggins' own experiences of reporting in the country. As a volunteer I was also interested in her examination of humanitarian work--why they come and how so often they try to do good but really only cause more damage.
Last week I had the rare opportunity to read "Sankara le rebelle" ( a book not found in stores); a story on the extraordinary life of Thomas Sankara, by the Malagasy journalist Sennen Andriamirado. A president who often "hitchhiked" on other presidents' planes and was unable to invite his friends over to eat because his own fridge was empty or he had no money. These were real deprivations that Sankara faced in respect toward the country's meager funds. These facts were witnessed by the author, who had the opportunity to share moments of life with this outstanding head of state as one of his good friends. Sankara invited the burkinabè to live by the realities of the country, meaning living in relation to the country's meager resources. "Sankara le rebelle" is also the story of the political and social evolution of Upper Volta from 1974 to 1986; the country was renamed Burkina Faso, or ''land of the upright people'' by the same Thomas Sankara. A book to be read!
Well, Unbowed was not terrible. Quite a good read, in fact. Not a great non-fiction memoir, but full of interesting observations on Kenyan society and anecdotes to make it a speedy read. Oddly, you barely get a sense of Maathai's actual accomplishments. She focuses much more on events that happened, spending many pages describing, for example, a protest in a gazetted forest, and only a couple sentences on the logistics of the organization she founded and nurtured, the Greenbelt Movement. Her lengthy description of her childhood and her parents is a very nice introduction for students of how a relatively elite young women in colonial and post-colonial Africa would have grown up. She is an activist, so there is not much philosophical reflection or analysis in the book (other than the, "Why can't we all be better" variety). Come to think of it, I don't think she actually discusses any fiction or "big ideas" in the book. She is one of those people that are always talking and doing. Places like Kenya in the 1970s and 1980s, sinking into dictatorship and social instability, need exactly that personality type. So a thumbs up. Not the best memoir, but a nice (and cheap, both in price and opportunity cost) read, especially for university students with no Africa experience who need a little inspiration.
OK so maybe the book I'm choosing to review isn't by an African author...the author is very much white and very much British; but the main character is a refugee from Nigeria so I figure that's close enough. And this is definitely a book worth reading.
The book is "Little Bee" by Chris Cleave. My favorite kinds of books are those you just can't seem to put down. The kind you stay up late at night reading and carry with you throughout the day to read during every minute of free time you can get. This is that kind of book.
Little Bee is a young (16) Nigerian refugee, just released from a British immigration detention center where she was detained for two years. Sarah is a well-off magazine editor and young mother. They are connected only by a brief yet horrific and traumatic experience. The story begins when they meet again years later.
The story is depressing yet happy, serious yet funny. One page you read about how Little Bee thinks of ways to kill herself whenever she enters a room "in case the men come suddenly," the next you read about Charley, Sara's four year old son who refuses to ever take off his Batman costume.
The story itself is great but what I like most is that is it realistic; so often people think that being rich or even simply being white can solve anything. But as this story shows it's often much more complicated then race or class, especially when dealing with refugee/immigration cases. This story is fiction, but you can tell a lot of research was put in and reflects the stories of many real-life refugees.
Little Bee by Chris Cleave. Read it!
I have read several books now, written by returned volunteers on their Peace Corps experience.
Some I really enjoyed, like George Packer's The Village of Waiting. (What a writer! Though I wish he went into more explanation as to why he quit after 18 months). Others, like Erdman's Nine Hills to Nambonkaha, I didn't like so much (The part where she complains about the village finally getting electricity...because it ruins her view of the stars? Please!!)
Yet no matter if I like or dislike the book, it's shocking how much I can relate to each of their experiences. It's like they are writing about my time in Pobé! I've found this to be true no matter the country, or even the time period (such the case for Packer's experience in Togo...in 1982-83!)
I was pleasantly surprised, though, when I read "Monique and the Mango Rains: Two Years with a Midwife in Mali," by Kris Holloway. Most books by PC authors are about their own experiences. But this book is different. It's all about Monique and the author's friendship with her.
Monique was a village midwife. She only attended a few years of school yet she was a very intelligent and extremely hardworking woman devoted to the maternity clinic. Through Holloway's words we see the struggles of village life that Monique faced: The lack of respect she received by village elders because she was too young to be a midwife (she was 25) ; The loveless marriage she had with her husband and her inability to get out of it ; that she couldn't collect her own salary (a man of the family collected it and gave her only a small amount).
Sadly Monique led a short life (this is not a spoiler, you find out she dies at the very beginning) but one that was uplifting and inspirational.
I didn't find this book to be particularly well-written, yet I found it hard to put down simply because of the story itself. I love that this book doesn't focus only on the authors PC experience but on her friendship with this incredible woman.
It's the story of Monique, seen through the eyes of Kris.


