For the last two decades the representation of Arab-Australian Muslims has been coloured by media reports of sexual assault, drug-dealing, drive-by shootings and terrorist conspiracy. This has made it difficult to understand a community which plays an important role in contemporary Australian society. Here, in his first work of fiction, Michael Mohammed Ahmad offers a privileged introduction to the life and customs of ‘The Tribe’, members of a small Muslim sect who fled to Australia just before the civil war in Lebanon. His stories focus on the relationships between three generations of an extended family, the House of Adam, as seen by one of its youngest offspring, a child called Bani, at key moments in its development. Ahmad’s writing is aware of tradition, but its real power is in its simplicity and honesty, and the directness with which he conveys the emotional responses of his young narrator.
Michael Mohammed Ahmad is an Arab-Australian writer, editor and community arts worker. He is the founding director of Sweatshop: Western Sydney Literacy Movement. In 2012, he received the Australia Council Kirk Robson Award in recognition of his outstanding achievements in community cultural development. Mohammed’s debut novel, The Tribe (Giramondo, 2014), won the 2015 Sydney Morning Herald Best Young Novelists of the Year Award. His second novel, The Lebs (Hachette, 2018) received the 2019 NSW Premier’s Multicultural Literary Award and was shortlisted for the 2019 Miles Franklin Award. Mohammed received his Doctorate of Creative Arts from Western Sydney University in 2017.
Alexandria. An inner city suburb of Sydney. Only 4kms from the central business district. Lined with terrace houses. It has an old world charm. This is where the book opens. And where The Tribe lives. Part of a greater community of people who fled the troubles in Lebanon in the 1970s, to build a new life in Australia.
"There are only nine migrant kids in the whole school, and six of them are from my family."
This novella is told via three vignettes from the perspective of Bani, when he is seven, nine and eleven years of age. The important things he remembers from his childhood. The events that stuck in his head. Three generations of the family are crowded into this tiny terrace. Each facing their own challenges.
It's an insight into a clash of cultures. A poignant story which shows the world viewed through the naivete of a child, who at other times shows wisdom beyond his years. Viewing the way the men and women of his (extended) family have very specific roles. The blend of merging into a new lifestyle while retaining traditional values has its difficulties. And how all families have their black sheep, difficulties and skeletons in their closet. And yet blood is always thicker than water.
It's honest, raw and unflinching. It doesn't turn away from topics which are harder to talk about, and which may not be discussed in some cultures. Drug taking, mental health, domestic abuse. And yet there are moments of utter beauty, where the sun shines brightly. And there's lots of humour, I was smiling at some of the scenarios more than once.
In some respects moments of this reminded me of Christos Tsiolkas' Jump Cuts. That feeling of sitting between two cultures, having one foot in each, yet not completely belonging in either. It's a complicated scenario, and one that most first generation migrants and children of immigrants feel.
"I was only seven when..." A crowded terrace house. Grandmother, brothers, sisters, Uncles, Aunties, cousins, all crammed in together. Little space, less privacy, yet strong bonds, despite differences of opinion, and degrees of lifestyle.
"I was only nine when..." A celebration! Think the movie My Greek Wedding Eastern style. Diamantes flashing, trimmed goatees, lots of hair gel, perfume and after shave. Tables filled with food and whisky. Dancing dancing dancing. Anyone who's ever been to a massive Wedding will completely understand. Loved.
"I was only eleven when..." The loss of Bani's Grandmother. Such a tough chapter. Someone who has been there every day is no more. The emotions which are so hard to explain and process as an adult, are compounded in one so young. Really tough to deal with this section, it opens so many wounds.
Michael Mohamammed Ahmad is also the writer of The Lebs and The Other Half of You. His other books are definitely on my radar.
I invite you to Neale's blog ✒ He has a link to an interview with the Author which is fascinating about his experiences growing up in Australia, coming from a minority background: https://www.nealesbookblog.com/post/t...
A series of coming of age vignettes that add up to a satisfying whole. Ahmad explores childhood-to-adolescence years, the joys and perils of tight-knit communities, and the changing relationships children of extended families. I really wish I didn't have to point out that these stories of Australians who rarely get to read stories about themselves, but I do. Don't read it for that though - read it because this book is sweet, and nostalgic and will make you feel like a tween again.
It was a very descriptive short story, but beautifully written in so many parts of the story, great use of symbolism and metaphors about his family, if only I could read it for the first time again! Absolutely loved it!
The last chapter made the book a lot better. This section really drew me in and made me feel for the characters and made me feel as if I was in their house with them.
I had been wanting to read The Tribe for a while, because the blurb promises a representation of Arab-Australian Muslims that isn’t coloured by “media reports of sexual assault, drug-dealing, drive-by shootings and terrorist conspiracy.” I love the descriptive nature of this novel, and the young narrator suited the story perfectly. I think this book definitely delivered what it promised, but despite it’s diminutive size it started to feel a little tired by the end, and I feel the last third (and last chapter) of the book was a repeat of what I had already read. Three stars, because the first two chapters in the book were brilliantly written.
Ahmad brings detailed family relationships to life within a minority Shi'ite Lebanese community in western Sydney. He does so from the perspective of a young boy at varying ages (between 7 and 11). I gained insight into kinship, tradition, and cultual identity through the curious character, Bani. At times, the language of the narrator did not seem match the excess of the observation: the huge Arab wedding and dance scenes, scents and smells, fight, women's bodies, illness and love of family. But maybe this disjunction indicates the difficulty of living across several cultures.
I enjoyed and connected with this book a lot. Finally we're writing our own stories. It's an example of a very new, raw, type of literature coming out of South-West Sydney.
There were some parts of this I really enjoyed, however for a short book it felt very long in some places. The author has some serious pacing issues - there's a lot of detail included that is really irrelevant in the big picture narrative, like copious amounts of physical description, repetition of standout facts I already knew as if they had never been said before. The last chapter was definitely the strongest, but I found myself disengaged for a good portion of the story in the lead up to this chapter. I also found the end jarring, with Bani mentioning he was writing this down.
I wish we also got more of Bani's personal thoughts. At times I felt like he was simply rattling off everything he could see and didn't talk about the ways he related to that picture. At times he feels like an narrator that is not actually present in the story. I did appreciate in some aspects you could really see where his family influenced his opinions and the ways he saw the world. However there was too many parts where he was simply narrating without a character voice.
However I do think the author achieved his intention - I just think he could've done it better.
It’s a long time since I’ve been to Sydney. I haven’t had any reason to go now that I have no family there, but even in the days when I made the occasional fly-in/fly out visit for a family celebration or a conference, I never got to know the city very well. That makes me part of the audience for this small book, because it is written with firm intent. It is a political work, created with the intention of redressing what the author thinks is the misrepresentation by the media of Arab-Australians in western Sydney. You can read about Michael Mohammed Ahmad’s big ambitions for this small book in an article at The Guardian …
I know two Sydneys: fleeting impressions of the tourist attractions and conference centres I’ve visited and the fashionable inner city addresses where my sister lived – and a night of sheer terror when in my twenties I drove along up from Melbourne with my son asleep in the back of the car, to rendezvous with my husband at a suburban motel on the Parramatta Road. It was in the middle of the night and a gang of hoons in their hoonmobiles thought it would be fun to ‘escort’ me into Sydney. It was not until a police car turned up on patrol that they melted into the side streets, leaving me with an impression of Sydney as a place where a woman apparently alone was not safe on a main thoroughfare.
Neither impression is the real Sydney, of course. It’s not so different to Melbourne, and it’s like many cities overseas as well. A tourist and business centre, clean, shiny and bright - and then the vast mass of suburbs full of people who are as individual as their fingerprints. It’s multicultural in the way that Melbourne is, or London or dozens of other cities around the world. Ethnicities converge in certain suburbs, and disperse themselves. (Cheap, immigrant-rich areas in Sydney contain a mix of ethnicities rather than ghettoes, see this interactive data visualisation at the SMH). But for reasons which those who read tabloids and listen to shock jocks will know better than I do, the Lebanese of Western Sydney have acquired a bad reputation. The Tribe - a novella in the Giramondo Shorts series – sets out to redress this.
It’s a book that celebrates the customs and lifestyle of a large extended family of Lebanese-Australians, as told in first person monologue by Bani, a child of seven when the book begins. The family are minority Shi’ite Muslims in a community of Sunnis, but although their faith seems strong, they have abandoned observances such as daily prayer, they drink alcohol and the women don’t ‘dress modestly’. Bani is somewhat immune to some of the cultural norms in his community: when his mate Omar at Lakemba Public School ticks him off because he doesn’t know how to eat pies from the school canteen, and that he should open the top and eat it with a spoon, Bani ignores him.
Since I grew up in Alexandria, right next to Redfern, I know the Australian way to eat a pie. (p. 120)
Three chapters of events that occurred when the narrator (Bani) is 7, 9 and 11 years old. He lives in West Sydney as part of a large Lebanese family - part of a minority Shia sect known as The Tribe. Everyone comes from large families but as The Tribe is less than 500 people everyone seems to be related to everyone else. They are not a strictly religious sect but they are very tribal. There is drinking, affairs and drug takers.
The three Chapters are an Intro to the house and family, a family wedding and a family death. The writing is smooth, poetic and honest. The young boy's observations into his family and their behaviour has humour and naivety. Bani's world is really no different to any others - family comes first - but everyone is different.
It is a short book and hopefully there will be another book or so to follow other events in Bani's life.
A collection of three stories, told from the perspective of 7 year old, then 9 year old, then 11 year old Bani, in an autofiction depiction of Arab Muslim Western Sydney growing up.
The Tribe is the family group who migrated from Lebanon, with Bani's grandfather the first to die in Australia from this huge family network. Living in the intergenerational house, cousins and uncles and aunties, are main characters in his and his siblings' lives.
From finding their way at school, to the finer details of a massive wedding with all the trimmings, to the death of his grandmother. These moments and sense of place come to life from the page.
An underappreciated volume to Michael Mohammed Ahmad's trilogy of fiction through the lifespan. This is multicultural Australia.
An insightful introduction to the Lebanese community in Australia. The tribe describes one huge extended family and their relationships since coming to Australia from Lebanon and previously from Syria. The is divided into three parts - the first is all about the family, its history and connections. The second is about marriage and again family connections. It illustrates the combination of organising the couple the ceremony and a fusion with Australian settings and food. The is centred on the death of the family matriarch and again how the family connects through death and the ceremony after a person dies.
The Tribe can be said to give an intimate insight into the inner-workings of a religious minority Lebanese family that inhabits those parts of Sydney that are the home of "many tribes" that are never given a voice by mainstream literature. The most interesting part in the novel is the tableau Ahmad meticulously creates of the wedding of the narrator's uncle, which has to be read to be believed. Hope this is the first of many more books about the "other" Sydney that is the heart and soul of this city.
This was fine. Had it been longer, I probably wouldn’t have liked it. But as a slim volume it’s enjoyable enough. It tells the story of an Australian Muslim family in Sydney. The voice of the narrator, a child, is believable- and sometimes profound, as children can be. A lot of names to remember here, but the full cast of characters has you feeling as if you’re a part of this very big family, with all the associated highs and lows.
A loose fiction which obviously has elements of autobiography. Ahmed's conversational style is engaging and it works because of his attention to the small details of family and culture. His observations are really well done and it's interesting how he moves between connection to people, religion and places and also distance from all of it.
Michael Mohammed Ahmad has written a poetic and gritty view of life in a Western Sydney Muslim family from a young boy's perspective. He's created something new and captivating here where family is at the heart with all its emotions on show. A poignant tough story.
Exploring a family, in which, feels so real and close was probably the best part of the book. I also liked the issues discussed from the eyes of an innocent and curious boy. I liked the book, wasn't totally in love with it.
‘Do you know what’ll happen if someone took you?’ He said. ‘They’ll play with your bum.’ I laughed my heart out. –p4
'My parents got married a couple of weeks after they met. My dad was twenty-one, so he was young, and my mum was twenty-one, so she was old.' –p11
'When you're black, even though it's not as good as being white, at least you know you're black.' –p28
'My father lost it. 'Ooh-laaa! There is nothing we ever say except Inshallah, understand?' I did understand. When it comes to us children, Inshallah means no. When it comes to Zubaida, Inshallah means yes.' –p39
'The confusing thing was that even then, even when I was only nine years old, I knew that one day I would have sex and I would want it. I knew that Ali and Zubaida wanted it too.' –p40
'Even though Yocheved is a girl, there's only one year between us, and she's still at that stage where being a boy or a girl doesn't mean as much as being the same age. She can run just as fast as Bilal and I, and she knows how to play all the same sports, so why should be expected to play with someone three years younger, just because that person is a girl too?' –p42-43
'It is a kind of respect forced upon us by nature I think; that the thing which gives you life is so powerful it can destroy you. In this way my father prepares me for what it will be like when I meet God.' –p66
'I find the idea of dancing disgusting – The Tribe squashed up against one another, sweating and breathing and bouncing. I'm especially revolted by the joy it brings. Everyone looks so happy when they dance. They holler meaningless things like 'whoooo!' and they laugh and throw their hands in the air . . . and I think to myself, What are these people doing? What is this? What does it mean? If we don't question it, and we do it only because it feels good, then are we anything more than animals when we dance?' –p87
‘There is something about The Tribe that keeps us in, and keeps them out. Even a child has power over them when he is inside. Even a child is valuable to them.’ –p91
‘It was during those days, when we sat by Tata and said nothing, Amtu Yasmine showed me that when our mothers begin to die we return to their wombs. Not our husbands and wives, not our friends and neighbours, not our leaders and our heroes, perhaps not even our children, occupy that space between where our fingers begin and our mother’s hair ends. I wonder if that is where God lies, as a force only to create and connect and give life.’ –p132
‘Nader was engaged but he broke it off a few months ago because he found a guy’s number on his fiancé’s phone. That didn’t make sense to me. He cheated on her all the time.’ –p136
‘Each year all kinds of people from Islam travel to the Middle East to do the pilgrimage, which involves circling The Kaaba several times. Like most people in The tribe, no one in my family has ever been. Instead, we just hang pictures depicting it in our living rooms.’ –p140
‘Em Mahmoud is fat too, but she’s too old for it to really matter now.’ –p147
‘It’s the look someone gives me when I don’t know something I should know.’ –p148
This book is incredibly descriptive. Often to the point where i could picture the house, the characters and the scenarios they are in. He begins by describing the House of Adam and the people that live in it. He then goes on to introduce and Entire Arabic family. He paints their views on marriage, gender roles, sexuality and respect all through minor stories and conversations. It really hones in on an image of Middle-Eastern people and culture, within Australian society. This i can appreciate.
I say "an" in my previous paragraph because i do not feel that the characters represent all Arabic people, nor their mentality, nor their setting. In some instances, they feel over generalized and painted as too imperfect to be believable. But that is just my opinion.
Although the author lists it as "autobiographical fiction", i did not feel as though it had any direction. He introduces characters (a lot of characters) only to describe them. None of them were built in any depth. And i found myself, constantly thinking "where is this going?". I find that great books entail characters who we feel as though we get to know by the end of the book. They are not introduced only to move onto the next characters. Even the main character, was merely a storyteller who uses language way beyond a seven- year-old.
A gorgeously written and nuanced autobiographical fiction that explores what it is to be a young Leb living in Australia. The descriptions are perfection and incredibly detailed, the dialogue is spot on and then there’s the poetry that weaves the story together like the finest of threads.
I read this book with my 11 year old son and he stayed attuned to every moment. He laughed and asked questions and connected with it.
The author writes a beautifully vivid and honest story about extended families from the Arab-Australian Muslim community, which I think simultaneously breaks down the false societal stereotypes and distorted narratives. The story offers a doorway into seeing and feeling the day to day relationships weaved with the rich cultural traditions which are often misunderstood or misguided in the community. A page turner.
Ahmad so perfectly captures the voice of a pre-teen child, and how the world is interpreted at that age. The story is a loving embrace of family life, and holds a veracity that carried me through the slower second chapter of the wedding, and left me wounded with the final 3rd chapter.
Quite a touching family saga. Delve behind the tough facade of Lebanese masculinity with this book. Australian, specifically Sydney based it shows the familiar and the unfamiliar coming together and really existing.