Masimba Musodza's Blog: Writer's Blog

Aquilina

In 2011, I published the science-fiction novel MunaHacha Maive Nei? It was widely acclaimed, which encouraged me to publish the novella, Aqulina (kana kuti, Reururo yaHatifari Maforimbo) on Amazon Kindle. Unfortunately, Kindle at that time only published in two African languages (Afrikaans and KiSwahili). So, I had to drop that project.

Then, in 2019, after I set up the Belontos Books imprint, I published both a print and electronic version. Every copy of the print edition sold out, and hundreds of ebooks were downloaded, which delighted me to no end. By the middle of 2020, it looked like all the attention the novella could possibly get had expired. I shelved plans to put it and its English translation on to a Print-on-Demand platform, and pursued other projects.

Then, earlier this year, I met Samantha Vazhure at the Britain Zimbabwe Society's Book Festival in London. I was already aware of the work she was doing with her Carnelian Heart Publishing, through which I discovered a new generation of Zimbabwean literary voices, such as Cynthia R. Marangwanda and David Chasumba. I asked her if she would consider reissuing the English translation of Aquilina. The rest, as they say, is history.

The history of the novella itself is long, spanning the history of post-Indepence Zimbabwe itself. Many features of that history as I experienced it are embedded in the story. Teachers sent to remote parts of the country, where they could not always bring their families and the toll this had on marriages. Domestic violence, and the public retribution towards a woman caught in the act of adultery. The rise of feminist activism at the University of Zimbabwe, with marches for the right to wear miniskirts without fear of harassment. The emergence of transactional sexual relationships. Organised violence by women towards other women perceived as love rivals.

These are horrible features for any society to have, yet sometimes I wonder if I am the only Zimbabwean who is horrified by them, given that many of my compatriots are more appalled that I write horror fiction, which, to them, is a sign that I must be a practitioner of some evil, occult religion. Yet, as Zimbabwean feminist writer and activist, Edinah Masanga, noted in 2015, "If there is one thing that anyone who has read Musodza’s previous novel in Shona will have learnt to expect, it is a fearsome monster. He holds up his imaginary monster like a mirror against the real monsters of Zimbabwean society."

Is Aquilina Chiwande a fearsome monster? That is precisely how her precurser, a figure of modern Zimbabwean mythology, is presented. I am referring to Peggy the Ghost Prostitute. To me, she represents the carryover of the dangerous woman motif from the cautionary traditional folk tales told around the family fire to the urban setting I grew up in.

Another source of inspiration was a late-night American movie I watched in parts, as I was dozing off on the sofa. It is the story of a rich young man stranded on a desert island. He is joined by a very beautiful woman, a survivor from another yacht. They become a couple. However, she begins to act like his domineering mother, so he murders her. When he is finally rescued, he confesses to his crime. The sailors who rescue him dig all over the island, but find no body. In fact, there is no evidence at all that during this man's stay on the island, there had been anyone else.

I have tried to recover the name of the movie, entering different versions of the plot summary into online searches, but all in vain. If anyone has any suggestions, I would love to hear from you.

The School of Oriental & African Studies (SOAS) kicked off its African Speculative Fiction Series yesterday with a talk by Nigerian horror writer and fellow African Speculative Fiction Society member, Ezeiyoke Chukwunonso entitled The Challenge of Writing African Horror and Fantasy Fiction and the Need for a New Critical Theory: A Philosophical Survey. A more compelling reason to leave Middlesbrough and head south for the time this year could not be contemplated. So, I went down for the lecture and came back this morning on the overnight Megabus to Newcastle.


Like me, Chukwunonso comes from a society where demonic entities and the means to summon them, ancient curses, supernatural powers of any sort etc- subjects dear to the heart of any speculative fiction writer- are quite real. Accounts of the supernatural and the occult occupy the mainstream media. A few years ago, a Committee of Zimbabwean Cabinet ministers was covered by the mainstream press as they took part in rituals supervised by a grade-2 drop out who claimed the vadzimu/amadlozi (ancestral spirits) had given her the ability to draw diesel from a rock. More recently, the then Governor of the Reserve Bank, Mr Gideon Gono, appeared in a press conference with the leaders of two of the largest evangelical churches, Uebert Angel and Emmanuel Makandiwa, amidst claims that their followers were finding "miracle money" mysteriously deposited in their bank accounts.


What this means for writers such as Chukwunonso and myself is that our work is treated not as fiction, but source material that reinforces such beliefs, especially to the literate classes. Rather than explore themes in works of horror, such as the fear of immigrants in Bram Stoker's Dracula or the corruption of a town in Stephen King's 'Salem's Lot, readers from such backgrounds view horror fiction as confirming what they have been told about monsters, demons and the occult by those they consider as knowledgeable about such things. They also view writers of such fiction as having inside knowledge of such matters.

Since my stories began to be published, I have been accused of being a devil-worshipper. Being a non-Christian in a society dominated by the charismatic evangelical churches doesn't help. I have also been approached by people who would like to acquire such powers. Many of the journalists I have approached about doing an interview or a review have started off enthusiastic, then frosty when they read some of my work. I am reminded of that passage in the short story Jerusalem's Lot, when Robert Boone makes enquiries about a book his crazy brother has expressed a desire to get hold of.

On 12 August, this notation: 'Rec'd two Letters in the Post today. . . one from Johns & Goodfellow in Boston.
They have Note of the Tome in which P. has expressed an Interest. Only five Copies extant in this Country. The Letter is rather cool; (Italics mine) odd indeed. Have known Henry Goodfellow for Years.'.....

Finally, 16 September:
The Book arrived today, with a note from Goodfellow saying he wishes no more of my Trade. . .

My reaction to all this has been to pen my only non-fiction book to date, The Greatest Trick The Devil Ever Played in which does exactly what many Zimbabwean readers think my fiction does- expound on the occult. However, in it I emphatically deny the existence of the supernatural and offer evidence to support my argument.

I might add that the idea that African literature must always contain some sort of truth is a little older, and guided the approach of Europeans during the colonisation of the continent to writing by Africans. In A Foundation For Speculative Fiction in ChiShona, an essay I presented at the SOAS Asixoxe Conference 2016, I observed that:

As early as 1925, when Thomas Mofolo’s
Chaka was translated from SeSotho to English,
it was treated by Europeans as a biography of the
Zulu nation-builder rather than the brilliant work
of African fiction it is. A “behaviouristic study of Zulu
Life under the despot Chaka,” one reviewer described
it in 1931 (Oyeyemi, 2016).

Chukwunonso, on the other hand, has sought to understand and interpret this phenomenon as part of a wider discourse on the development of post-colonial literature in many parts of the African continent. He argues that African literature, beginning with the role played by Chinua Achebe's seminal Things Fall Apart and the Heinemann African Writers Series in defining the genre, is seen as and taught to have a functionalist value rather than an aesthetic one. The idea that a story can be enjoyed simply because it is a fantastic read rather than because it offers a profound truth about the entire continent's past and present is hardly entertained by those who have set themselves up as the gatekeepers of African literature. This is what I took from Chukwunonso's presentation. He demonstrated that such an approach to literature is not unique to the continent, nor to this time; he cites Plato and Aristotle and what they saw as the role of literature to their societies, perceptions which have continued to this day.

A theme that I think needs further examination is how African Science Fiction is celebrated while Horror and Fantasy are often kept at a a safe distance. Given how Africa has been depicted over the last few centuries, I suppose stories that depict a future where Africans travel to distant galaxies or create awesome technology are far more functionalist than those that revolve around voodoo, cannibals and homicidal maniacs- themes that have been employed to libel the entire continent and its people. Here too is the conflict between functionalism and asetheticism.

All in all, it was an enjoyable evening. I was delighted to meet once again Michelle Clarke and Alena Rettova of SOAS. Writer and lecturer Geoff Ryman was also present, he offered me a suggestion for MunaHacha Maive Nei? that I will certainly act on once I finish what I am working on now. I hope I will be able to attend all of the lectures.

The School of Oriental & African Studies (SOAS) kicked off its African Speculative Fiction Series yesterday with a talk by Nigerian horror writer and fellow African Speculative Fiction Society member, Ezeiyoke Chukwunonso entitled The Challenge of Writing African Horror and Fantasy Fiction and the Need for a New Critical Theory: A Philosophical Survey. A more compelling reason to leave Middlesbrough and head south for the time this year could not be contemplated. So, I went down for the lecture and came back this morning on the overnight Megabus to Newcastle.


Like me, Chukwunonso comes from a society where demonic entities and the means to summon them, ancient curses, supernatural powers of any sort etc- subjects dear to the heart of any speculative fiction writer- are quite real. Accounts of the supernatural and the occult occupy the mainstream media. A few years ago, a Committee of Zimbabwean Cabinet ministers was covered by the mainstream press as they took part in rituals supervised by a grade-2 drop out who claimed the vadzimu/amadlozi (ancestral spirits) had given her the ability to draw diesel from a rock. More recently, the then Governor of the Reserve Bank, Mr Gideon Gono, appeared in a press conference with the leaders of two of the largest evangelical churches, Uebert Angel and Emmanuel Makandiwa, amidst claims that their followers were finding "miracle money" mysteriously deposited in their bank accounts.


What this means for writers such as Chukwunonso and myself is that our work is treated not as fiction, but source material that reinforces such beliefs, especially to the literate classes. Rather than explore themes in works of horror, such as the fear of immigrants in Bram Stoker's Dracula or the corruption of a town in Stephen King's 'Salem's Lot, readers from such backgrounds view horror fiction as confirming what they have been told about monsters, demons and the occult. They also view writers of such fiction as having inside knowledge of such matters.

Since my stories began to be published, I have been accused of being a devil-worshipper. Being a non-Christian in a society dominated by the charismatic evangelical churches doesn't help. I have also been approached by people who would like to acquire such powers. Many of the journalists I have approached about doing an interview or a review have started off enthusiastic, then frosty when they read some of my work. I am reminded of that passage in the short story Jerusalem's Lot, when Robert Boone makes enquiries about a book his crazy brother has expressed a desire to get hold of.

On 12 August, this notation: 'Rec'd two Letters in the Post today. . . one from Johns & Goodfellow in Boston.
They have Note of the Tome in which P. has expressed an Interest. Only five Copies extant in this Country. The Letter is rather cool; (Italics mine) odd indeed. Have known Henry Goodfellow for Years.'.....

Finally, 16 September:
The Book arrived today, with a note from Goodfellow saying he wishes no more of my Trade. . .

My reaction to all this has been to pen my only non-fiction book to date, The Greatest Trick The Devil Ever Played in which does exactly what many Zimbabwean readers think my fiction does- expound on the occult. However, in it I emphatically deny the existence of the supernatural and offer evidence to support my argument.

Chukwunonso, on the other hand, has sought to understand and interpret this phenomenon as part of a wider discourse on the development of post-colonial literature in many parts of the African continent. He argues that African literature, beginning with the role played by Chinua Achebe's seminal Things Fall Apart and the Heinemann African Writers Series in defining the genre, is seen as and taught to have a functionalist value rather than an aesthetic one. The idea that a story can be enjoyed simply because it is a fantastic read rather than because it offers a profound truth about the entire continent's past and present is hardly entertained by those who have set themselves up as the gatekeepers of African literature. This is what I took from Chukwunonso's presentation. He demonstrated that such an approach to literature is not unique to the continent, nor to this time; he cites Plato and Aristotle.

A theme that I think needs further examination is how African Science Fiction is celebrated while Horror and Fantasy are often kept at a a safe distance. Given how Africa has been depicted over the last few centuries, I suppose stories that depict a future where Africans travel to distant galaxies or create awesome technology are far more functionalist than those that revolve around voodoo, cannibals and homicidal maniacs- themes that have been employed to libel the entire continent and its people. Here too is the conflict between functionalism and asetheticism.

All in all, it was an enjoyable evening. I was delighted to meet once again Michelle Clarke and Alena Rettova of SOAS. Writer and lecturer Geoff Ryman was also present, he offered me a suggestion for MunaHacha Maive Nei? that I will certainly act on once I finish what I am working on now. I hope I will be able to attend all of the lectures.

Last Thursday, I undertook the arduous journey to London, some 6 agonising hours on the Megabus coach, on a scenic route through Leeds and Sheffield. In between naps, I read Lair of the White Worm on my Kindle. As is my custom, I walked rather than rode into the more interesting parts of Westminster just so I can feel my ass my again. It was also nice to feel the sun again.

I was in London to meet the latest addition to my Fairfield Press stable, Mr Thomas Mutonono of Luton, who has recently published Crossroads . I wanted to personally present him with the proof copy to the print edition to his new book. And he wanted to not only meet me in person, but see a book launch.

Mr Mutonono's fiction is, in my view, of value to a lot more than just lovers of Zimbabwean literature. He focuses on the period just after Zimbabwe's Independence in 1980, a period that most of us seem to have forgotten or stopped writing and reading about. I was 4 years old in 1980, but I remember that period very well. It's not for me to say, but adding Mr Mutonono's works to the curriculum in Zimbabwe would be a good idea.


After a chat over coffee, we headed off to the Forbidden Planet, where Fox Spirit Books was launching African Monsters , edited by Jo Thomas and Margrét Helgadóttir. As some of you know by now, Fox Spirit Books has also recently published Winter Tales , which includes my When The Trees Were Enchanted. It was a pleasure to meet people who, thanks to social media, I felt I knew already. We also had several friends and acquaintances in common.


After, we all tried to find a pub (you'd think that would be easy in that part of Westminster) eventually settling on a Thai restaurant. I wasn't keen on Thai food, so I had spring rolls, then left the party to find the Keret Kitchen. Yes, this lonely Rasta from the north was gagging for Ethiopian food and had taken the trouble to look up Ethiopian restaurants on the internet. I found it in my old neighbourhood, i.e. the area where I stayed when I arrived in England, the Walworth-Camberwell area. My, how the neighbourhood has changed!

If you want good Ethiopian grub, Zeret Kitchen is the place to go. Unfortunately, I could not sit around for much longer as I had to catch the 436 for the ass-numbing trip back home. I meant to stay in London for a few more days, visiting relatives and friends, but I had a meeting the next day. So, I had my meal packed and caught the 148 to Victoria Station.

There won't be a launch for Winter Tales, unfortunately. Still, it was great meeting everyone. And, I will be doing a signing in Middlesbrough, at Sacred Alien Comix. Watch this space.

Sub-title this blog: The blog that should have never been written if Petina Gappah and her simp friend hadn't gotten so petty.

It all started when Google alerted me to the presence of a webpage with my surname on it. It was a list of "The 10 Best Writers From Zimbabwe", by one Tindo Tomahawk. Up until that moment, I had never heard of Tomahawk Tindo, nor The Culture Trip. I have since established that Mr Tomahawk works in media in Zimbabwe, and blogging is one of his minor activities. I thought it was nice of him to not only include me in his list of the 10 Best Writers From Zimbabwe. As is my custom, I posted a link to the article on my Facebook page, tweeted it etc.

My friends and family liked the comment, and said so. I stated quite clearly that there are many other Zimbabwean writers I would have put on this list instead of me. I did not want to remove anyone else, because I understood that this was one man's list and who am I to tell him who he thinks is the best of Zimbabwe's writers? Quite a simple matter, really.

Until one "Ras" Mkhonto WeSizwe Mahomva (the alter-ego of Richard Runyararo Mahomva) decides to make his inaugural comment on my Facebook wall by stating the obvious: "Something flawed about that list." he opines, before coming up with a list of writers that he thought should have been there, including Petina Gappah. All of a sudden, I find myself defending a list I had no hand in compiling. Gappah's first stated gripe was that Tomahawk Tindo had only one female writer on his list. I am guessing Gappah is of the Special Olympics School of "thought" (you know, applaud individuals not for any particular reason except they belong to a particular category of society and really need that applause in order to feel better. Jada Pinkett-Smith is another proponent of this mentality.)

But that was not the issue. Both Mahomva and Gappah were acting like drunken louts, the social media equivalent of shouting, trying to have the last word on an argument no one had even made in the first place. Talk about having nothing better to do on a Thursday morning! Mahomva was affecting the air of a great intellectual. How one can hope to come across as a great intellectual by acting like a complete boor is incredible, but there he was shooting down someone's comment with, "We can debate pedestrian thoughts on matters of academic importance the whole day." The person in question, unlike Mahomva, has actually read some of my work, including my latest novel.

Now, there are several lists of Zimbabwean writers that people have put on the internet over the years. Gappah herself said in one of her comments that she even has compiled her own list. I wonder if she would countenance being cornered into justifying it by people who as a rule never engage her in any sort of communication. Here's a list of 20 Writers. How many times has it been or shot down because it doesn't includes Kristina Rungano or Ndabezinhle Sigogo? It has been viewed nearly 10000 times.

What was it about this list that really twisted Mahomva and Gappah's nipples? The fact that Gappah's name is not there, or the fact that my name is there and hers isn't? Judging by the inbox messages, there is a lot of social media chatter around that issue. I would not be surprised if there are people whispering things to other people all over the 'net. The Zimbabwean intelligentsia is very good at that sort of thing. Why else would she be so worked up about a mere list? It is completely out of character for her to find the time to comment on my wall. She made a few cryptic references too, suggesting that yesterday's incident was only part of a conversation that has been held elsewhere and with other people. I think someone wants drama to happen. Well, I am not really one for drama. This blog is all I really feel I want to say on the matter. I would have gladly let the matter rest and chalked it to one of those things that flare up on Facebook from time to time were it not for the fact that Gappah proceeded to slander me to her own circle, acting like all she ever wanted was to see more women writers and I was being unreasonable.


So now we can add Quote-Miner and Liar (same thing, really) and a pathological inability to own one's faux-pas to her many talents and attributes.

As for Mahomva, it was painful to watch a grown man affect an air of intellectual superiority for no purpose at all except to put down another grown man who is minding his own business and doing his own thing. Calm your twats, people, and find other things for your little hands to do.

Oh, about the picture at the top of the blog. It dates from 2009. I was delivering a talk on my own book at a London library, but I am holding up Chris Mlalazi's then latest release, Many Rivers. I do support other writers from Zim, not just with words, but with purchases of their titles.

Tomahawk Tindo, if you find time to read this, thank you for reading Herbert Wants To Come Home and getting the underlying theme, even if it is only in draft form. Hope you will like the proper book when it comes out. And thank you for putting me on this list, it is obviously a very significant one otherwise sparks would not be flying over why you compiled it the way you did (but I do recommend Tsitsi Dangarembga, though.)

Shavi Rechikadzi Get It Now Mazwi: Sarungano waNhasi adzoka zvakare, nechino chinyorwa chinotarisana nezvekubatwa chibharo kwevakadzi muchita chemuZimbabwe, mabasa emapurisa nevamwe ekurwisa

Last week, I got interviewed by the brilliant Abigail Singende on Zimonline Radio. Here is the podcast.

Perhaps it was arrogance on my part, or perhaps a desire to move up to the next level of my writing and publishing career, but I had it in my mind so badly that Shavi Rechikadzi is going to be a bestseller. It really seemed the auspicious occasion for that next level of my career as a writer. I have many eyes on me now. Sales higher than the average author. And a reputation for fantasy and horror established by MunaHacha Maive Nei? and other works. Zimbabwe's Master of Scare, they call me. I do like the sound of that, to be frank. Perhaps, soon, I will be complaining about being pigeon-holed. But for now, it is great being a Zimbabwean writer who is known for something other than being exceptionally good at pandering to western liberals' morbid fascination with Third World problems. It is good to be here, where I am. I don't think anyone else has ever taken this route before.

Getting Shavi Rechikadzi has been an exercise in adaptation and innovation. For one thing, there are very few publishers taking on literature in ChiShona. It is the most widely spoken language in Zimbabwe and among Zimbabwean communities abroad, yes, but not when it comes to buying books to read. Your average ChiShona speaker takes exceptional pride in not being able to read anything longer than a mobile text message in the language. This is on top of the fact that has become a broken record: Zimbabweans do not buy books. Yet, having considered all this, I still had the feeling that I was going to publish this novel and it was going to be a bestseller, albeit by Zimbabwean standards. Ambitious baby steps.

When I started writing the novel, back in 2007, Word would exasperatingly auto-correct everything I wrote. My way around that did not come until fairly recently, when freeware alternatives to Word began to appear. To all those geeks around the world, thank you; you have no idea how you have given literature in ChiShona in this century a major boost. When I began Shavi Rechikadzi, I was worried about finding a publisher. As it turns out, technology was transforming around me such that by the time I was ready, it would be possible for me to create my own publishing house, Belontos Books. As I discovered with MunaHacha Maive Nei? in 2011, just about every ebook distributor on the face of the planet does not work with ChiShona. So, while I still claim credit for publishing the first novel in ChiShona as an ebook first before it went to print, and I did get royalties for it, MunaHacha Maive Nei? is no longer available anywhere in digital format. A glimmer of hope came through when a new e-book distributor based in Zimbabwe emerged. I eagerly passed on three of my English-language titles. But, I regret, the said distributor is fraught with the sort of teething problems that someone more serious would have already tackled. Not least among these is the ability to give an accurate account of sales. As it turns out, I do have a brother and a cousin who are both web-designers, one based in Zimbabwe and the latter in South Africa, so it may happen yet that a Musodza-owned ebook distribution enterprise will be launched that will cater for more African languages. We would have to sit down about that. Or someone will read this article, get inspired, and set it up at once. Either way, we- Zimbabweans, Africans, users of languages other than English, French, German etc- need to have someone supplying our literature in digital format.

So far, I have managed to get a distributor in the shape of Scribd.

Shavi Rechikadzi by Masimba Musodza

And also Payhip. Payhip's DRM management is suspect. However, they do allow me to recruit affiliates. What this means is anyone who posts a widget on their own site will get a share of the revenue generated from sales made via said widget.

Thanks to POD, having print copies is easy. Through social media, I can reach potential readers. That is quite handy, as it will be hard to get any of the media houses, even the Zimbabwean ones, to take notice. (Hard is not the same as impossible, which is why I still have the press kits sent out anyway) The book went live on amazon and other online stores last week. Some people started to make their purchases over the weekend, and it can be assumed that they will begin to receive their copies today. This is now taking us to the next stage: readers' reactions. Might even see the book's popularity spread by word of mouth.

Publicity is hard to get. There is no PR company that caters for Zimbabwean literature in general, let alone works in ChiShona. So, even if I could afford to procure the services of a professional Book PR firm, there isn't one for me yet. (all those Zimbas with marketing degrees, something to think about.) Zimbabwean journalists generally tend to prefer a writer to be acclaimed by non-Zimbabwean (read British, American, Australian, Canadian, New Zealander or South African) media first before they decide that they merit any attention. Or, the writer actually knows anyone. Or, does something really embarrassing. I have been getting a fair bit of attention from the non-Zimbabwean media, but that is in the horror, fantasy and science-fiction niche.

This just leaves me free social media. One uses what one has, so I have been employing it to its fullest potential. With all these challenges, I am pleased to announce that Shavi Rechikadzi has taken off.

So far so good, as one of my teachers would say. How far remains to be seen.

Something for me to crow about. And to thank all those who have voted.

Dambudzo Marechera once said that when politicians talk of culture, one better pack one's bags and run away because it invariably means censorship. He said this years ago, when everyone was still drunk on the Independence euphoria and the idea that our liberators could become far more brutal oppressors than even Ian Smith and his horde could have ever dared was simply unthinkable. Fast forward to a few years after these words by the late doyen of Zimbabwean literature were penned, and the reality of the situation soon sank in; write only nice things about the regime. The regime was not to keen on literature anyway, and writing was not seen as a serious profession, even though Mr Mugabe is reputed to be a bibliophile. All the same, every time the regime or any of its machinery took an interest in literature, it has always been to censor.
When they are not banning books outright- a very difficult thing to do in this day of imports and downloads- the powers that be roll out a tame "journalist" to write vitriol against a text deemed offensive. Whether it's Edgar Tekere's version of the history of the nationalist struggle that led to the Independence of Zimbabwe, or Petina Gappah's Elegy for Easterly, you bet they will do a straw man with a book. Books scare the crap out the of the regime.
Not so long ago, it was Richmore Tera trying to tear a chunk out of Gappah. In the finest traditions of our state-owned hack, he had not even bothered to read her book, and showered it with praise. Then, he came back to it, denouncing Gappah as the modern Judas Iscariot. (Oh, the regime is not afraid to compare Mugabe to Jesus Christ) It is possible that Tera still hadn't read it, but had only been told what to write. And, in the finest tradition of all those writers, musicians and other artistes who prostitute themselves to the regime, Tera appears to have since faded in to obscurity. Who got their 30 pieces of silver now, eh?
The new pen-pusher with the regime's shaft deep up his whatsit is Mr Lovemore Ranga Mataire. This ambitious President-Mugabe-hugger once described himself as a "simpleton", so we can't say that he is entirely dishonest about himself. After going in to obscurity amidst allegations of helping himself to the earnings of The People's Voice, the official ZANU-PF newspaper he had become editor of, he has emerged to attack Zimbabwean writers, especially writers based abroad. His pet hate is Zimbabwean literature's lady of the moment, NoViolet Bulawayo.
Is Zim literature at the crossroads? the Simpleton asks in a piece in The Herald. Interesting question to pose, considering that Mr Mataire doesn't appear to know what Zimbabwean literature is. In his subsequent piece, he asks: What really constitutes African literature? I'll go back to that in a moment. In Is Zimbabwean literature at the crossroads? Mataire launches in to a pointless but spirited jeremiad about how bad things have become since the days when when Zimbabwean literature, whose age he determines to be the same as the origins of mankind, "was not a product of desperate impulsive desire for a communication tool but were developed over time and in turn every symbol is meaningful and relevant to particular circumstances."
And what is the harbinger of this doom, this " sliding backwards into some kind of post-modernist narrative that has subconsciously allowed itself to be defined by the discourse of European prejudicial stereotypical images of Africa in the tradition of Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness, which depicts Africa and its people in the most denigrating and despicable terms of being mere “cardboard characters” devoid of any intellect."? Why, "so-called contemporary authors like No Violet Bulawayo"!
Most assuredly, Mr Mataire is entitled to his own opinion about any work of literature, even works that he has never read. And no matter how many awards she had got, I am sure even NoViolet Bulawayo herself accepts that her work is not to everyone's taste. But to paint a picture of Zimbabwean literature on the basis of just one work, no matter how much in the international limelight it is at the moment, does not lend to the notion that we are dealing with a critical thinker here.
Think of the spectrum of some of the work that has emerged from the Zimbabwean literary fraternity of late: Sarudzayi Mubvakure's Amelia's Inheritance (historical fiction), Ivor Hartmann's Earth Rise (science-fiction), Tendai Huchu's Hair Dresser of Harare (LGBT issues,) Spiwe N Mahachi-Harper's Footprints in the Mists of Time (migration and belonging), Janine Dube's Dark Horizon (romance), Tracey Kadungure's Tanaka Chronicles (erotica), Novuyo Rosa Tshuma's Shadows (short stories) and so on and so on. We also have poets such as Linda Gabriel. These are just some of the Zimbabwean writers based abroad who have made their mark, I could not name even a tenth of the list that is part of my personal network of writers. Chris Mlalazi is based in Germany, and is seeing his work translated in to German. I had a short-story published in the evening edition of a major newspaper in Jamaica a few years ago. Zimbabwean writers are on the go, man! So, it is understandable that I am shocked that Mr Mataire picks one novel and uses it to paint a picture of Zimbabwean literature that is grossly inaccurate. He fails to see the wood because of one tree. Then he asks what really constitutes African literature! How would he even begin to understand the answer to the question when he is focused on one text? You have to read several different works before you can find what is common about them.
Advice for Mr Mataire; read Zimbabwean literature. Maybe you are a total cheapskate, but that is still no excuse, because there are so many stories, novellas and novels available free online. Ivor Hartmann had an ezine called StoryTime. It is still online, but is no longer accepting new submissions. Emmanuel Sigauke publishes Munyori. Although it features work by non-Zimbabweans, Munyori has also started to feature fiction in ChiShona. So, there is plenty of quality free material for you to read and criticise. Then tell the world again that there is some sort of crisis in the world of Zimbabwean literature!
Another piece of advice; no matter how much you try and coat it in African nationalist demagoguery, you are serving no one except a regime that fears independent thought. You are simply voicing their fears rather than your own critical analysis. They tell you which writers to worry about, and you do just that. You are doing nothing for Zimbabwean literature at all. In this war you are waging against us Zimbabwean writers and our work, you are not even a warrior but a mongrel hound that leaps in to action when its owner issues that hiss of command: "Sa!". I hear The Herald pays well, but can you still look in the mirror after taking that money, knowing fully well that you had to set aside all critical thinking?
But then again, you did state once that you are a simpleton.