LESELI MOKHELE: Purveyor of short stories

I remember when I was in my mid-teens, an uncle gave me Chinua Achebe's short stories to read. This was his book, Girls At War...I already knew at the time that Achebe was a great African novelist, but I still found it easier and more exciting to read his book of short stories. 

The introduction to the book made it clear that Achebe wrote many of these stories when he was still a young student in the university...real talent! Decades later I now experience more or less the same sensation as I read this author's book, book, Home grown short stories. 

I initially thought that Mr Mokhele, the author was a black South African, but he is actually from Lesotho (a small country geographically placed within SA - try not to be confused!) I was very lucky to get this book to read...actually none of the bibliophiles in my west Africa even know his name (Leseli Mokhele). Which is a modern tragedy really in respect of book publishing. 

African readers nowadays hardly know about writers, books from other countries; why, we hardly even know about local writers based in OUR own countries now! Note: books these days our side are not only expensive, but they are also rare to find (where are proper bookshops?)...a dual hurdle, so to speak.

Let it be on record that Leseli Mokhele is a very good writer, certainly among the best in our Africa. Very well written short stories here. Well done.

-         -Olu Bakare

THE COLLECTOR OF TREASURES. By Bessie Head

Okay, I might be rather sour in admitting it – I am an old African reader and critic who has relished our early short stories (fiction) for decades. Stories written by the continent’s best writers from all around.

Yes, stories penned by Achebe and Cyprian Ekwensi of Nigeria, Es'kia Mphahlele of South Africa, and Marechera of Zimbabwe. And of course magnificent stories by female writers like Ama Aidoo of Ghana, and Flora Nwapa of Nigeria. And in recent times great short stories by Ngozi Adichie (Nigeria) and Maxwell Perkins Kanemanyanga of Zimbabwe.

Bessie Head of Botswana, if you wish, has been an exalted African female writer for donkey years, a superb writer. Her short stories here in this work show her empathy and sympathy with the rural women in the hinterland

In this collection, the title story, Collector of treasures, certainly stands out: and for me, Life too. The horrific castration of a man - by 'his' woman, is the theme of the title story. We see the hapless plight of women in this community, and quite frankly many men just regard them as sex objects, blithely, irresponsibly.

During her lifetime, author Bessie Head in an interview, actually damned such men as 'evil'. And in the story, Life, a man kills a woman in the community that he is fascinated and dazzled with: Life clearly stands out like a sore thumb!

Life, from the city, is free, 'sophisticated', and brings quasi-prostitution to the very conservative community... things of course slither towards melancholic disaster...

One might as well add in conclusion here that I am enamoured with a comment on this work by The Tribune which wrote inter alia: “Bessie Head s short stories have an extraordinary simplicity and breadth of vision, a tolerant acceptance of things as they are, which if applied by a European writer inside the structure of a European novel, would cause her to be hailed as a new humanist saint, a Tolstoy, a Gorki.”
- Eric Malome

KURUNMI. By Ola Rotimi

This play, Kurumi, is one of the excellent plays written by Ola Rotimi. This work is based on historical accuracy. This much can be ascertained by reading the classic, HISTORY OF THE YORUBAS by Samuel Johnson. Kurunmi  is a tragic story. Very tragic really. Ijaiye town is destroyed, and all the sons of Kurunmi the supreme warlord (Aare Ona Kakanfo) killed in the process as war unfolds. So much blood spilled in horrific fashion. Yet one wonders what would have happened if the Ose river had not been crossed... Kurunmi, and the plight of Aare Ona kankafos. Even in very modern times, Chief Akintola and Chief Abiola (both Are Ona Kankanfos) were beleaguered enough…

Symbolism in Bolaji’s Tebogo and Uriah Heep

By Raphael Mokoena

Perhaps we do not ordinarily acknowledge symbolic devices as integral to Chief O Bolaji's writing; or perhaps this is my own impression of this new Mystery book. No matter. Here it seems the author is sending trenchant messages intermittently, starting from the first chapter, Bra Uriah. 

At least here is a familiar message in Bolaji's works; the reference to copious literary allusions, books etc. Hence it is no surprise to see the haunted, beleaguered Bra Uriah delivering a short "homily" on books, reeling off works written by the likes of George Eliot, Gabriel Okara, and Hadley Chase. 

And what about the motif of "mamugari" (handcuffs) late on in the narrative? The culprit is rendered immobile, harmless and hapless once the bracelets he never reckoned with are clamped on him! Hence the killer of the young lady in question here is at last apprehended, thanks to Tebogo. 

And in the very last chapter, what do we make of the inclusion of the "Mannequin Challenge"? Indeed it is rather strangely and awkwardly brought in. Note that the "Challenge", with its frozen, statuesque implications, presages all the action in this work also abruptly drawing to a close.

Tebogo the sleuth has triumphed - but there is no triumphalism here...(reminds one of a bit of the much earlier  Tebogo Fails ). We feel at the end here - coerced as it were - a combination of weariness, languor and ennui, which might be symptomatic of the author himself.
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* This book is published by Eselby Jnr Publications of South Africa. The work is dedicated to Richard "Skietreker", and Obafemi Fasanmi.

THE BURNING STAR OF NDUTU. By Shanwa

This is one of the books that fomented one’s love for reading, appreciating books from a very young age. This was recommended text in early days in secondary school. Even now, one recollects strongly that this was an absorbing read, inducing excitement and fear, tapering to a breath-taking conclusion. The mystery of the “burning star”, one realized at the end, was some sort of trick, capable of a simple explanation. But it was the atmosphere of youthful zest, excitement and adventure that lingered. Are modern youth of today still weaned on such books, gripping reading, that encourages one to relish reading? Has social media worsened things, or made them better? Do the youth still treasure authentic reading of books? I wonder.

-         Ben Ode