Lyrical, beautifully written tales of life in Africa. Africa evokes a deep sense of mystery. It is a place that retains what most of the world has lost: space, roots, traditions, awesome beauty, true wilderness, rare animals, and extraordinary people. In this wonderful and haunting collection of stories, Kuki Gallmann writes of her life in Africa, where every day brings challenge and adventure. African Nights is a treasury of memories, in which fascinating people and places are brought to life. The healing powers Africa can have on those who embrace the land as a place of mystery, superstition, danger, and beauty.
Kuki Gallmann is an Italian-born (born Maria Boccazzi) Kenyan national, best-selling author, poet, environmental activist, and conservationist.
Fascinated by Africa, Gallmann moved to Kenya in 1972 with her husband Paolo and son Emanuele, and acquired Ol ari Nyiro, a 98,000 acre estate in Western Laikipia, in Kenya's Great Rift Valley. At the time the estate was still a cattle ranch, which she would later transform into a conservation park. Both her husband and son eventually died in tragic accidents within a few years.
Kuki decided to stay on in Kenya and to make a difference. She chose to work toward ecological conservation in the early '80s, becoming a Kenyan citizen. As a living memorial to Paolo and Emanuele, she established The Gallmann Memorial Foundation (GMF), which promotes coexistence of people and Nature in Africa and is active in education, biodiversity research, habitat protection, reforestation, community service, peace and reconciliation, poverty alleviation and public health. GMF promotes environmental education of Kenyan students. She dedicated Ol ari Nyiro to this ideal, converting it into the Laikipia Nature Conservancy.
Gallmann published five books, all global best-sellers. The first, her autobiography I Dreamed Of Africa, became a feature film.
Kuki also wrote I Dreamed of Africa, which I gave 5 stars. I didn't enjoy this one quite as much. Almost ... so, it gets 4 stars. This book is a collection of stories of her experiences in Africa. I do like the way she writes. An intriguing storyteller. She has a great attention to detail. Her emotions are shared clearly, outlined sharply, and speak to my heart. She clearly loves life, and Africa.
4 Stars = Outstanding. It definitely held my interest.
oh my this book is boring so far. Kuki uses so many excessive adverbs that the emotional story she tries to tell falls flat for me. I'll try to finish this though because I am borrowing this book from someone.
Nope, I give up. This is not the book for me. I read about a third and after that I started dreading reading the book. That is despite the fact that all the books about Kenya are pretty much a hit with me, because that's where I am living now. I am not going to give this book a rating because I fear it would be very low. However, that doesn't feel honest because there are probably lots of people who adore her writing style. Dunno this is a tricky book to rate.
I have never been to Africa. I have never felt a desert breeze in my hair or fallen asleep to the shuffling of elephants or the breathing of camels. But now, having read African Nights, I feel like I have.
Kuki's love of Kenya - its people, animals and customs, shines through each tale like a blistering sunset. Her stories are of Africa's bounty: the vistas she has climbed, flown, boated and rode to view and the vast diversity of its wildlife. For the most part, though, she celebrates Africa's people and their gracious interactions with her family. Her gift for detail makes each herdsman and trader, each man-of-all-work and friend as fleshed out and observable as the neighbors on my street.
She's an eclectic one, to be sure. I was constantly amazed by what she was brave enough to do and the pets she allowed in her home - she truly sucks the marrow right out of life. The thread throughout this book that was most impressive to me is that Kuki's love of her adopted country is able to persist so strongly despite Africa's brutality: the sometimes savage nature of its native peoples, its climate that can evaporate the life right out of the land and its animals that can deal death in an instant. Kuki embraces it all with an almost otherworldly grace. And yet, she so deeply mourns the loss of those that Africa has taken from her that the stories from her memory feel almost cathartic - joy mingled with intense pain.
Kuki sometimes seems rather flower-childish, a little too "out there," with her wall-less retreat on the savanna and monkey pets, which might be annoying. For some reason, though, it didn't bother me. Maybe it made me feel more like I could believe that all her stories truly happened. I can't call this a page turner because it took me longer to read than any book in recent memory. It's more like a journey - a photo album of snapshots in the hands of an amazing storyteller - and we get to vicariously go along for the ride.
Collection of stories of Gallmann's experiences not recounted in I dreamed of Africa. Some of them take place during that time and some since. Also included is at least one flashback to her childhood. Some of the chapters are actually multiple stories all around the same subject. The last 50 pages or so are essentially one story with each chapter being a different aspect of the people leading up to the recounting of the trek with the camels. I enjoyed this. She's a good story teller and I get a good sense of the people and culture that she's sharing about.
I've been reading this book for years; first as a reluctant partner in my night time sleep ritual, later as a periodic reminder of many of the true wonders and joys of living in Kenya and, to a lesser extent perhaps, in other areas of Africa, and finally as a friend and companion, one of the little pleasures, one of the measures of peace I find in coming back home at the end of the week.
Kuki Gallmann's stories will not take you to a Kenya that is ripe with corruption, brutality and shocking urban poverty. Kuki Gallmann doesn't live there; probably doesn't have to inhabit that part of life so real to millions of Kenyan's. Or, to be fair to her, she doesn't write about these pervasive aspects of surviving in today's Kenya. In "African Nights," the closest brush she has with present day Kenya is the singular, brutal, life-changing death of her husband in the jaws of the mechanical killer "mutatu." Poof! Then it's gone. Back to elephants, sunsets, majestic camels, mysticism and the serenely beautiful Kenyan coastal islands. In an ironic twist, her ranch at Lailiputa serves as an education center to introduce young Kenyans to the Kenya she inhabits and writes about.
If you have lived or worked in Africa, you have to reach a pact - or an understanding - with Ms. Gallmann. You have to accept that she knows that the Africa, the Kenya, she lives in is complex and troubled but that she chooses to write about the Africa that is still also true, that of majesty and wonder, of many simple, touching moments that connect us with this beautiful planet and the natural world of which we are such a small part. She writes about people who, perhaps primitively but no less truly are still intimately connected to the rhythms of this natural world, and the metaphysical world they envision around it.
Once you've done this; once you open the book and lay aside the nagging, troubling question of why someone with these means didn't engage herself more in improving the lot of Kenya and the Kenyans and less in appreciating the life and luxuries of a 20th century colonial, then you can enjoy her observations, her sensitivity, her writing. For there really is a Kenya and Kenyans that Ms. Gallmann describes and she does a wonderful job of slowing you down, breaking down your defenses and appreciating the world that she inhabits and the things that she sees. If you've been there, particularly if you've lived there, you will be transported back and your heart will be full, your eyes occasionally moist because you've known her sense of wonder, you've drawn hope for the world from a desert sunrise and a long string of camels silhouetted against the distant horizon.
As one commentator noted, Kuki Gallmann may not win the parenting award of the year, (she is really pretty whacky if you take the time to think about the situations she puts her and her family in), but she is clearly grateful for emigration to Kenya and full with a zest for exploration that made this reader, at least, happy to be along for the ride.
Boring, clumsily written, and full of exoticism. DNF @ 15%.
These aren't even stories, they're hardly vignettes. Two or three pages will focus on one person, spending half a page describing how strange, short, tall, thin, naked, gaunt, or simple they are. Then there will be some brief action and a revelation or epiphany about them, then the story is over.
Gallman makes constant comparisons between her beloved "Africans" and animals. While some of them, strictly speaking, seem to be complimentary, most read as demeaning and racist.
Then there's the fact that she frequently includes "African" words without explaining their meaning or even identifying which "African" language they're from. Yes, after looked in the back of the book, there's a glossary, but who wants to be checking that all the time, interrupting the flow of their reading? It should be there for reference if the reader forgets what a previously-explained word means, not the sole provider of those explanations.
The fact that her experiences in Kenya and the Kenyan people she's talking about are all disguised as "African" strikes me as an attempt to romanticize and make "mysterious" the whole continent, adding some more of that "exotic" appeal to her narrative, but it's another sign of racism. She does mention the tribal identity of some individuals, when it's important to their story, but other than that everything and everyone is just "African."
Also, Gallman makes reference by name to her family members without identifying them, either, at first; how am I supposed to know who they are? I managed to infer after a few mentions that Paolo was her husband (or at least partner, because I never saw it explicitly mentioned they were married) but I had to wait quite a while before she finally outright said her children were her children. It does't seem like that knowledge was deliberately obscured for any reason, so why not just say it outright? Because I'm not psychic, I don't just know the names of her family.
Also containing Night Of the Lions. Touted as “True Stories,” these are tales of the author’s residence in Kenya: adventures with wildlife, tributes to lost and loyal friends, reminisces on her deceased son and husband, and poetic meditations on the beauty of the landscape. It’s mostly informative, though Gallmann does stray from the advertised subject a bit, with a tale of her childhood in Italy, trips back as an adult, or talks with an Eastern Indian mystic in Utah (!). And some stories seem a bit less --- possibly, more? --- than true: see the preternaturally empathetic elephants of “Elephant Ballad.”
And yet, when Gallmann is on the subject of Africa, and has a story to tell, it can be truly mesmerizing (the conflict of old and new Africa in “A Dance Of Spiders,” for example). And certainly, you have to respect Gallmann, if only for her dedication to the preservation of Africa’s wildlife; it’s clear she loves it --- and her courage, as demonstrated in her undergoing the Camel Trek though bandit country and desert of Kenya. In all, despite its flaws, this is a remarkable, dramatic, and above all lyrically evocative book of Africa experiences.
This was more of a 3.5 or so for me. I bought it specifically because I was going to Kenya and needed a paperback to read on one of the many long flights. I wish that there had been a map in the book so that I could have seen where the various stories took place. I really enjoyed the Swahili dictionary at the back of the book.This was an enjoyable read and I left it at one of the camps for others to enjoy.
While I liked the writing style, we have very different African experiences. Also, people. Please stop referring to one group of people by calling them Africans, when you're not referring to their belonging to the continent!
Disappointing. I really liked her first book I dreamed of Africa, but this one is just not a good read in my opinion. It's bitty, it doesn't awaken one's interest, and it's more of a personal diary of personal but rarely interesting events. I appreciate that those quite insignificant events are important to the writer due to the personal tragedies she encountered, but they are not the same interest to the readers.
I loved reading these true stories of the life of Kuki Gallmann. She is an amazing woman. With a life full of adventure, hardships, and heart ache, she took the time to share her experiences though the stories she wrote in this book. I have also read her book "I dreamed of Africa" which was just as amazing. I have watched the movie that was made also. It makes you wonder how a person can go though so much and still have peace in her life. If you are interested in reading her books, I suggest you read "I dream of Africa" first.
I am really enyoying this book. It transports you to Kenya. The descriptions of the natural places and the characters are so vivid... They are short stories of real experiences that the author had in Kenya. Great book. It makes me want to travel to Kenya and I really think that I'll do the trip.
Very interesting - about her expperiences and her activities living in East Africa. She and her second husband own a farm and a nature center in Kenya. Kuki's 1st husband Paulo died in a MVA and son Emmanual was killed by a venomous snake. The movie version I also enjoyed.
Dopo il successo, meritato, di "Sognavo l' Africa ", questo libro mi e' sembrato un sequel non riuscito : una serie di ricordi slegati fra di loro conditi da una buona dose di autocompiacimento.
A must read after reading the Kuki Gallmanns first novel 'I dreamt of Africa'. One of those stories that inspires the reader to travel and meet the author. Very well written. I recommend it.
Gallmann's first account of her experience living in Kenya, "I Dreamed of Africa" was easily one of my favorite books I read last year and garnered an unquestionable 5 stars from me. While this was still an enjoyable read with a myriad of interesting stories and vivid descriptions of the deserts of northern Kenya and Ethiopia, the coastline and islands of the Indian Ocean, and the gorgeous Laikipia Plateau (her accounts of the landscape and wildlife of east Africa were enthralling in both books), I never felt as invested in what I was reading as I did with the preceding book.
Maybe it was that this was more a collection of memories rather than a linear autobiography, but I just didn't ever feel like I couldn't put it down like I did with the first one. It also felt much more... spiritual (for lack of a better word) than I Dreamed of Africa. While the first book was very much, "Here's Africa and its natural beauty and the vast diversity of the people who inhabit it," this one had some supernatural elements that just felt a little out of place, especially in an autobiography. I Dreamed of Africa featured witch doctors and the mysticism surrounding them and I didnt really have a problem with that, but for whatever reason the spiritual stuff in this one just didn't really sit right with me.
It was definitely good and I'd recommend it to anyone who had read the first book (which I'd recommend to just about anyone), but it didn't elicit the same emotions or excitement as her first book did. Not disappointed, but kind of hoped for a little bit more.
I’m generously rounding up to a two with this book. The writing was enjoyable and the stories interesting. However this book grated on my last nerve. The attitudes by the author are very colonial. British colonialism in Africa is viewed as brave men risking their lives to gain dominion over primitive tribes. While the author speaks well of the Black people mentioned, her only experience seems to be how they serve her in one way or another. The spiritual ways of the locals are viewed as “simple”, the drivers are “irresponsible,” the original inhabitants “unfriendly tribes.”
Then she refers to Indigenous Peoples of America as “Red Indians.” 😲
Okay, so I thought I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she’s a product of her generation. The original stories were written in the 1980’s and 1990’s!
Then I thought well the book is really a memoir of a woman conservationist— except conservationism barely gets mentioned. The lady runs her sprinklers and then mentions in the very same paragraph that they’ve had a drought so bad that people are dying of thirst. Um, what?
I got this book for free when I bought Brave New World and the bookstore said I could have one free book from one specific shelf. I randomly chose this book since it was the same size as BNW and an african setting seems like an attraction to adventure. I decided to read this first since I have a feeling I won't like as the other books I bought which were all fiction while this book is not.
After reading it, I can definitely say that I will never go to Africa. The book showcases the beauty of the continent and its exotic life while also showing a lot of ways to die in that place. Kuki's stories gives a lot of feeling of pain, misery, despair, hope, happiness, and gratitude with so many words that makes me feel sleepy. There were also some of the stories that makes me question if those stories were true or not, especially the miracles.
All in all, it was ok. I didn't really want it but I do own the book so I feel obligated to read it.
She writes of hunting in an overexploited country, she sings of a hunter for sport and for banal status quo, in a world made for rich people who went to live in a poor country. Black people seen as servants, useless when they get old. Bored, rich and spoilt europeans, useless to themselves and others, hunting in coarse safaris, so ridiculous today as they were horrific in the last century. She describes autoctones as "her or our servants", and of animals sacrificed in the hands of youth who don't have parents who care about nature, environment and other beings. A world felt like at her and their particular service. A horrifying book!
While I loved ‘I dreamed of Africa’ and it is possibly one of my favourite go-to books when I reminisce about my time in West Africa, this collections of stories fell pretty flat for me. I could not engage or care at all. I found myself skipping entire pages when she was describing animals and such. I love when she talks about the people and the life there, adventures with Sveva and Emanuele, but I felt some of the stories were added just to fill the book.
It’s ok. I love traveling through books, so this one was nice. I thought it was a single story, but instead it is a collection of small stories. My biggest struggle with this book is the constant hopping around in time. Sometimes her children are small, then grown, then small again. Sometimes she is married to her first husband, than has a romantic partner (husband died), then another story where he is alive again. I enjoyed the stories but the constant back and forth of time was confusing.
This book is a very lighthearted read. The book jumps around to many time periods often without any idea of timeline until well into the chapter. However it is not necessarily hard to follow. This is a collection of stories that has a light theme and can easily be pictured with Gallmanns description of scenery. It is an enjoyable collection and will make you want to explore the vast expanses of Africa for yourself!