WINNER OF THE DINAANE DEBUT FICTION AWARD 2019 When eleven-year-old Chimuka and her younger brother Ali find themselves orphaned in the 1990s, it’s clear that their seemingly ordinary Zambian family is brimming with from HIV/AIDS to infidelity to suicide. Faced with the difficult choice of living with their abusive extended family or slithering into the dark underbelly of Lusaka’s streets, Chimuka and Ali escape and become street kids.
Against the backdrop of a failed military coup, election riots and a declining economy, Chimuka and Ali are raised by drugs, crime and police brutality. As a teenager, Chimuka is caught between prostitution and the remnants of the fragile stability from before her parents’ death.
The Mourning Bird is not just Chimuka’s story, it’s a national portrait of Zambia in an era of strife. With lively and unflinching prose, Kalimamukwento paints a country’s burden, shame and silence that, when juxtaposed with Chimuka’s triumph, forms an empowering debut novel.
Mubanga is an award winning novelist and short story writer. She won the Dinaane Debut Fiction Award for her debut novel, The Mourning Bird. Mubanga also won the Kalemba Short Story Prize and was shortlisted for the Bristol Short Story Prize. Her work has appeared in The Advocates for Human Rights Minnesota, The Dreamers Creative Writing, The Airgonaut, Overland, The Menteur and elsewhere. From Zambia, she lives in Minnesota.
For my first time reading Zambia I wanted something with a strong sense of location, and preferably not a story from a colonial point of view, so I'm really glad I found this novel by Zambian American author Mubanga Kalimamukwento, as it gave me more than I asked for. Although I thought it was a good book, it wasn't exactly a joyful read, being about the downward spiral of a family in 1990s Lusaka.
Following a fairly traditional plot structure (which I like to think of as e - beginning with a momentous event, circling back a bit, then moving forward) we meet young Zambian girl Chimuka at the time of her beloved father's death. Chichi is the eldest child, but is still only 11 years old. She has rose-coloured glasses on as far as her father, Tate, is concerned. A handsome, funny, successful man who can do no wrong. It's only as time passes that Chichi gains some perspective. It seems theirs was a fairly comfortable middle-class family. Tate was an English teacher at a government school, Chichi and younger brother Ali both attended good, same-sex schools, they had a nice home in a decent neighbourhood, and they spoke English as their preferred language (something of a status symbol, I gather). Perhaps there was a little bit of tension around Emily (the mother) and her faith, or at least around the amount of time she put into it.
Then after Tate's death his village relatives descend on the family in Lusaka. This was quite an eye-opener. Stripping Tate's home of every little thing that could reasonably be classed as his, Emily and the kids are left with virtually nothing, and no way of earning. Before long the family has moved to a far less affluent part of the city and are living hand-to-mouth. The tragedies begin to pile up, and soon both Chichi and Ali are living on the streets. And then it gets worse.
A couple of things I really liked about this book were that it allowed me to explore a new environment, and that the author made good use of implication to tell some of the darkest parts of the story. In fact the only thing I didn't really like was the relentless downward trajectory. Gladly, Chichi's story was left with some glimmers of hope beginning to break through.
"THEY WERE INVISIBLE BEFORE. The group of teenagers next to the Adventist church on Independence Avenue. The scantily dressed ones who roamed Chachacha Road. The ones who lived under the bridge on Great East Road. The ones along Cairo Road. Everywhere. I never saw them until I became one of them."
This is the age-old story of the tumultuous relationship between mother and daughter; the favouritism relationship between mother and son; the twisted-around-her-little-finger relationship between father and daughter; the "things unspoken" relationship between husband and wife; the contempt-quietly-brewing-underneath-the-surface relationship between a spouse and their in-laws; the over-protective relationship between brother and sister; the nothing-will-ever-be-the-same relationship between life and death.
This is the story of how one's normal can be ripped from them in a manner of days; their new life a stark contrast from their previous reality. This is the story that the next time I pass a vagrant tween/teen will have me pausing to question whether they are on the streets because they are a juvenile delinquent rebelling authority, my usual conclusion; or a child escaping the horrors of a place they thought would keep them safe, a place that was supposed to nourish and provide, a place they used to call home.
This is the story of the reality faced by so many children, in so many cities, across the entirety of this world.
Mubanga's writing is beautiful beyond comprehension. She paints tangible imagery that leaves the reader feeling like the proverbial fly on the wall; whether such images are enchanting like a father reciting stories to his children after a long day at work, or vile like the horrors of living under a bridge, void of the necessary protection from the inevitable evils of this world. My heart wept for every child whose reality is portrayed in this story.
Thank you Mubanga for writing this story. 4.5 stars from me🌟🌟🌟🌟⚡
Mubanga Kalimamukwento's The Mourning Bird has a very apt title. Referencing the African superstition that owls are bad omens who hoot the night before a tragedy, the novel might as well come with a soundtrack of hooting on loop.
Telling the story of Chimuka, a young Zambian girl whose life is punctuated with so much death, struggle and strife that it leaves the reader fatigued, the book is readable, but ultimately not enjoyable.
Chronicling how Chimuka's father died of HIV-related tuberculosis, followed by her four-year-old brother by the same fate, then her mother by suicide; interspersed with her aunt's husband first molesting, then repeatedly raping her, her aunt's ill-treatment of her (which, after what we've learnt about the aunt in previous chapters makes absolutely no sense - the character isn't given enough time to really develop so it never really becomes believable) and her and her brother, Ali, eventually becoming street children, there's just so much bad news that it stops feeling like a plot and starts feeling gratuitous.
There are explicit descriptions of Chimuka's rapes and her later sex work that left me feeling desensitised and unable to form a connection with any of the characters.
Meanwhile, there are incidences of shoddy editing that scream neglect. In one scene, Ali steals Chimuka's radio, TV and iron. A day later, there's a pivotal scene about a news report that really impacts the protagonist, but we go from listening to a radio nearby to mentions of images flickering across a screen and descriptions of what the news anchor is doing and wearing.
Time is completely disjointed throughout the novel. It takes forever for Chimuka's father and brother to pass away within months of each other, but the years she spends on the streets before turning to sex work go by in a wink. This could have worked beautifully to illustrate Chimuka's growth from innocent child to hardened teen, but I don't think the author did enough with it to make it feel intentional.
With that being said, I really enjoyed how the protagonist's nervous counting is incorporated throughout the novel, as well as a children's song she and her brother used to sing. It grounds the story in ways the plot doesn't, and reminds the reader, again and again, just how young the characters are.
Overall, the novel paints a bleak picture of Zambia in the 90s, and it ultimately, and unfortunately, remains a one-dimensional one.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
A heart wrenching and tear jerking coming of age story related via a child protagonist Chimuka. Two siblings are failed by family , community and country. They literally end up in the streets . This after three members of their family pass away due to unnatural causes , one after the other in a short space of time.
Mubanga demonstrates through exploring themes of death, prostitution, friendship, homelessness, patriachy , mental illness, colourism, parenting , corruption, HIV, and rape: how failure of a country and government translates to a decline and strife to its inhabitants .
A rich textured narration that incorporated a bit of ciTonga, siLozi and ciNyanza which readers can easily infer. The Zambian cuisine and chitenge attire successfully transported me to Zambia.
When innocent and vulnerable child protagonists suffer, it cuts like a knife . It reminded me of the plight of Azure in Sello Duiker's "13 cents". Chimuka lived in a world where kids are to be seen and not heard. It broke my heart when she lamented on page 92 that " I was learning that adults had two different sides. They showed the one that suited them at the time . I had come to expect that about my parents and other grown ups I had known ".
I felt that the story line of Tate's pension and the eventuality of Bo Sitali and Humphrey was left hanging.
Mubanga is a brilliant author whose career as a criminal and human rights lawyer compliments and amplifies her stories.
A good book is one that gives you a new lens to see oneself, and to see others through. The Mourning Bird is one such book. I didn't know that it was possible to capture a time in our country's history so well. I just love how Mubanga takes us right into the heart and home of a little girl called Chimuka. Her show don't tell technique leaves room for the reader to connect the dots and her foreshadowing is so subtle it hurts. It broke my heart from the very first page. Her language use is lyrical, and her keen observation of everyday life shines through the pages. For example:
"two men were pushing a faded green wheelbarrow. In it was a shadow of a person. A gaunt, genderless figure, all loose skin and wispy, black hair. When the wheelbarrow ran over the rubble, a surprisingly deep voice escaped the shadow..." Now, that is something we see where I come from and I've never seen it recorded before.
Mubanga tackles a lot of very uncomfortable memories both for country and for the family in this story. She has a way of weaving in well-researched historical fact with the fiction and I found that captivating. On this journey with Chimuka, I just wanted her to WIN. We are shown the invisible side of our society which we choose not to see, or perhaps become blind to. No one is perfect. No one is a hero. No one is a sinner. It's just life unfiltered. Thanks for this beautiful work of art and contribution to Zambia and the world Mubanga. I look forward to the next one.
The story takes place in Zambia, Lusaka in the late 90s. Chimuka was eleven years when she saw her father getting thinner and thinner everyday, coughing, changing of his skin colour and losing his hair. She is a very observant child that notices things that adults think young children should not know. She evedrops a lot which is the only way to get the truth about happenings in her household. She was close to her dad who once taught her 'never let an owl stay, mwanake, because they are a bad omen'. The night the owl cried until sunrise and her dad could not wake up to chase it away, was the day he died.
The story of Chimuka is too sad and certain parts very graphic that if you are sensitive, you might want to skip few lines to save yourself. There's lot of rape scenes, you'd find yourself with a clouded view due to tears forming in your eyes if not wiping one or two that might have escaped. After losing her father, her father's family 'cleaned' everything in the house and they were left destitute, with no home, no furnisher and not even clothes. Her mother was accused of killing her husband. Few years later, the youngest five-year old dies then few months the mother commits suicide. The last two funerals are so lonely, it is just painfully sad.
At thirteen, with her other younger brother, Ali, find themselves having to fend for themselves, relatives became abusive, physically, emotionally and sexually. The streets became their home, where the brother learned to steal and she leanered to be a prostitute. What other choice did they have?
The book also tackles an issue of how the government in the 90's cared only for the fat cats. Chimuka's dad was a teacher but the family could not get monies and the government did not care. Even when he was alive, they will pay salaries as and when they wanted.
The story of Chimuka is a sad reality that most people go through or have gone through. We point fingers at those prostitutes as if they had a choice. Some have been there at thirteen, like Chimuka and grew to adulthood knowing that life and nothing else. Organisations come to these prostitutes to give them hope on certain days like youth day, etc. They come with media to showcase them and unfortunately it all ends there until the next youth day...They come again with food, t-shirts and empty promises.
At the end of the story, she wants to change, she wants to chase her dreams like she had planned. Mubanga here gives hope in her own way that even after everything you might be going through, there is a light at the end of the tunnel.
I initially struggled to get into this book, and at times it was a very difficult read. However, the writing is excellent and the story quite compelling.
“NEVER LET AN OWL STAY… 'Because..they are a bad omen. They mourn at night so that we mourn in the morning.”
This book highlights the devastating impact of the HIV/AIDS pandemic, which left many children orphaned in the 1990s. This was my second Zambian fiction that addressed the crisis, making me wonder whether Zambia was particularly severely affected with the pandemic or if the topic is simply a recurring theme in the country’s literature, similar to how Nigerian literature often explores the Biafra War. Perhaps other African nations chose not to narrate their stories through the lens of the HIV era.
The story follows Chimuka and Ali, who lose their parents and are sent to live with relatives, only to face abuse. Eventually, they run away and end up as street kids, surviving on glue-sniffing, begging, and stealing. Chimuka is forced into prostitution, while Ali becomes a thief. It was heartbreaking to see their lives unravel, especially considering they had once lived comfortably in Lusaka, where their father was a teacher. Their downfall was even more tragic because Chimuka idolized her father, never acknowledged that his infidelity led to their mother contracting HIV. In the end, Ali lands in jail, but Chimuka finds hope by enrolling in night school, a small but meaningful step toward a better future.
Set in Lusaka, Mubanga Kalimamukwento's "The Mourning Bird" tells the story of Chimuka, a young girl from an ordinary Zambian family. Her life takes a devastating turn after her father, Tate, a womanizer and heavy drinker, dies from HIV. When an owl shrieks, Chimuka knows death is near, and soon her father is gone. As per Tonga tradition, his siblings gather and distribute his belongings, but none adopt Chimuka or her brother Ali.
The loss of their father shatters Chimuka's dream of becoming a teacher like him, and their mother's health deteriorates after giving birth to an HIV-positive child. Soon, the mother and Chimuka's brother pass away, leaving Chimuka and Ali to fend for themselves on the streets. With other children, they resort to begging, glue-sniffing, and pickpocketing. When Chimuka meets Elana on the street, they venture into prostitution together. However, Chimuka's life takes a turn for the better when she meets Elisha Banda who rescues her and takes her to his orphanage, where she resumes school and starts anew. The novel is not only Chimuka's story but also an indictment of the tumultuous political events in Zambia in 1991, following Kenneth Kaunda's nearly three-decade rule. Additionally, it portrays the country's struggle with the HIV/AIDS epidemic.
A heartbreaking story of a girl and her brother who become orphaned and live on the streets of Zambia turning to glue to suppress their hunger, and to crime and prostitution to survive. The subject matter isn’t easy, but I thought it was so well-written I felt as if I were right there. We can all read statistics about HIV in Africa and the toll it has taken on the economy or the population, but this is an upfront personal account of growing up in such a place. To me, this book honors those who have had to grow up and survive in such difficult circumstances. Highly recommend.
Illness, abandonment, betrayal, and hope. All of these are intricately wrought into a complex web of relationships and heartwrenching situations. This is a concise story but it will wring you dry.
I went on a highly recommended emotional roller coaster, I really want more people to read this painful novel.It took a night and half to finish this book,you put it down knowing very well you have tp know what happened next.It's about HIV and AIDS, abuse (child abuse, drug abuse), sex work and a whole lot more. This read evolves around Chimuka who lost both parents at young age and rest of story is heart wrenching." Not only you have a story Chimuka" Behind that loud laughter Enala had a story too. Highly recommended Read
The book is a very easy read. It is a very simple story with it's own truth that you cannot avoid to feel for. It follows the life of one character in a story that is very common for in the Zambian history and present too. In that sense it is an important story to tell. It offers the reader insight into the reality of so many that are ignored and forgotten whose lives we judge but hardly understand. The writing style of the novel is not particularly exceptional though. There were many opportunities to be colourful that were not seized. A few inaccuracies and conflicting descriptions. The story telling tends to be monolithic, sometimes predictable, and in places feels rushed.
Mubanga's writing is so evocative that you forget you're reading and you want to reach out and give the characters a hug, a blanket, anything to make their lives a little bit bearable. She puts her characters and readers through the most, and that is something only gifted writers can achieve. The prose is effortless and neat. You won't put this book down until the very end, that's how invested you'll be. I recommend The Mourning Bird to everyone, especially Africans who want to read books that are written by people who know what it really means to be African. You won't be disappointed.
If you are east or southern African, you will find this, incredibly familiar. If not, rest assured, this is an authentic East African story. I understood the all ciNyanja. The folktales, traditions and even characters names will have you imagining you were one on them. Which may be the point of Kalimamokwentos writing. She makes you realise that you could be one of them, that this could be your story. Which makes the story more rivetting
Reading books written in a Zambian context have challenged me to revisit childhood memories that I had packed away but need to be addressed ....... From the first chapter, she pulled at my heart strings with the details she shared about the OWL... It’s like she took the words right out of my head. I honestly can’t review a book without giving spoilers but I will share my rating ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️stars from me
This could have been a powerful drama with sharp social issues, but it didn't quite succeed. It felt like reading a draft or sketches for a novel. Although I really wanted a full-fledged story, because there's a lot of potential. Here's a bit more detail on why.
The book fits into the classic meta-plot of "Struggle with the Monster." The monster here is an invisible one—AIDS, an epidemic that has engulfed Africa for decades. The story is told from the perspective of the main character, a girl named Chimuka, who lives in the capital of Zambia. It's a dramatic tale of trials and suffering, which ends somewhat happily.
We see an ordinary family: the father works as a teacher, the mother is a housewife, and they have three children—the eldest is our heroine, her slightly younger brother Ali, and the baby boy. At first glance, it's an ordinary family, but it has its own seeds of evil. The father cheats, the mother is nervous, and the baby has developmental problems. All these seeds of trouble sprout. The father dies of tuberculosis (actually from AIDS complications), the family is left without means of subsistence, and soon the baby also dies (he obviously inherited AIDS too), the mother loses her mind and commits suicide. And just when it seems like enough trials—two children are left orphans, how could it get worse? But this is just the beginning. The foster family is not very welcoming to the children, even though they are relatives. Rape follows, then escape to the streets. Begging, drug use, prostitution, dangerous criminal connections.
All this very much resembles the plot of "Slumdog Millionaire," but here there is no such happy ending and dynamic plot. Instead, serious social problems are raised: AIDS, poverty, weak healthcare, political and economic instability in African countries, superstition. The book seems to be constructed according to a script: here we write about this problem, in this chapter about the next one. And all the problems are really very important, serious, and urgent. But it is written so dryly and colorlessly, as if reading a ministry report—there are facts, but no people's stories behind them.
Here lies the biggest drawback of the book—it lacks emotions. Poverty is not only in the heroine's pockets, but also in the author's verbal means. I reread some scenes several times, thinking I missed something, but no—those were gaps in the narrative. How could such a strong scene of the baby's death in the hospital be described in literally one sentence? And at the same time, an absolutely secondary scene of drug use is detailed. Similarly, the scene of the first rape attempt, which influenced the further development of the plot, is crumpled into a few lines, while several paragraphs are devoted to describing the prostitutes' outfits. It seems that the author is very far from what she describes and looked at it too distantly. Perhaps the first-person narrative was an unsuccessful technique, as the emotional story did not come through.
The ending of the story also turned out to be somewhat strained. After such a drama, I wanted at least some victory over the monster. Instead, we have gray everyday life. The heroine's only victory is that she did not contract AIDS after all her sexual adventures. Not very optimistic, something like: "thank you for not dying."
Another disappointing aspect of the book is its lack of atmosphere. I have read little of African writers and have a superficial understanding of life in Africa. Taking this book, I really hoped to discover the color of life in an unknown country. But you won't find this in the book. There are some incomprehensible concepts and words that even with translation in the notes you can't grasp—names of dishes, traditional clothing, customs, but there is no context. What does it mean, what role does it play, is it important for the plot? It's all clear to the locals, the culture bearers, but for a foreign reader, it's just puzzles. Therefore, getting to know the culture of Zambia through the book did not work out. The only thing that is clear is that they had a military coup, many tribes constantly quarrel at the household level, men are some kind of sexual maniacs, and everyone around is sick with AIDS.
These were not the impressions I wanted from the book. Although I recommend reading it to get acquainted with the literature of an unknown but such a large continent. It's not a masterpiece, but it's worth attention.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Mubanga Kalimukwento, a Zambian from Minnesota, is such an Afro-Dostoevsky with a set of Fyodor Mikhailovich instruments: "a child's tear", "a poor man is worse than a rag", "do you know, do you know, my dear sir, what it means when a person has nowhere else to go?" For eleven-year-old Chimuka, the beginning of a series of misfortunes is the death of her father, which instantly and literally plunges the family into poverty. Relocation to the slums, the death of a weak little brother, and the suicide of a religious Christian mother. Moving to the position of a servant to her father's sister, a series of rapes by her husband, flight, vagrancy, begging, theft, prostitution, betrayal of loved ones. An increasingly narrowing corridor of possibilities. With a flickering light at the end of the tunnel. Such a story.
It is clear that the American lawyer, a graduate of Hamline University (Minnesota), writes about things from which her personal experience is cosmically far away, but the intonation of the first-person narrative is impeccable. It gets to the heart, but the "Bird of Sorrow" is not a tear suppressor - there is a competent balance of bitterness, detachment, and calm. dignities. Feminism, domestic violence, the social problems of Third World countries, AIDS, the cruel legacy of colonialism - everything you need for a premium book. The Dinaane Award for Debut 2019 and Long Yasnaya Polyana 2025 speak for themselves
Маленький человек, что же дальше? Предположение, что для XXI века африканская литература станет тем, чем для XX была латиноамериканская, похоже, оправдывается. Писатели Черного континента все плотнее заселяют новейшее литературное пространство. Без единой концепции, каким был латиноамериканский магический реализм: эпичность Абдулразака Гурны и эстетство Мохамеда Мбгура Сарра отлично уживаются как с этнофантастикой Ннеди Окорафор, так и с афро-вариантом богатые_тоже_плачут "Новой Эффи" Пис Аджо Медие и странноватым феминизмом "Моей сестрицы - серийной убийцы" Ойинкан Брейтуэйт. Они, в основном живущие в странах первого мира, пока не говорят нового слова в мировой литературе, лишь примеривая на себя прежние ее достижения, которые насыщают этническим колоритом.
Мубанга Калимуквенто, Замбийка из Миннесоты, в этом смысле такой афро-достоевский с набором инструментов Федора Михайловича: "слеза ребенка", "бедный человек хуже ветошки", "знаете ли вы, знаете ли, милостивый государь, что такое значит, когда человеку некуда больше пойти?" Для одиннадцатилетней Чимуки началом череды злосчастий становится смерть отца, которая мгновенно и буквально ввергает семью в нищету. Прежняя жизнь, которая не была ни богатой, ни беспроблемной чего стоит пассаж про ловлю крылатых москитов: "жирненькие, вкусные – дармовое лакомство." Впрочем, возможно тошнотность этого пассажа стоит отнести на счет разности культур, в нашей есть насекомых не принято. В точности, как немыслимой дичью воспринимается ограбление вдовы с тремя детьми родственниками отца на похоронах.
Школьный учитель, папа, зарабатывал немного, зарплату часто задерживали, а когда платежки приходили, предпочитал пьянство в кабаке и общество развратных женщин, но пока был жив семья справлялась не хуже других. Похороны поставили ее на грань выживания. Представьте только, все, включая матрасы, детскую одежду и плиту, растащила отцова родня. Голые стены,нечем платить аренду и нечего продать, чтобы появились хоть какие-то деньги. Переселение в трущобы, смерть слабенького младшего братишки и самоубийство религиозной христианки (?) мамы. Переезд на положении прислуги к отцовской сестре, череда изнасилований ее мужем, бегство, бродяжничество, нищенство, воровство, проституция, предательство близких людей. Все больше сужающийся коридор возможностей. С мерцающим светом в конце тоннеля. Такая история.
Понятно, что американская адвокатесса выпускница университета Хэмлайн (Миннесота) пишет о вещах, от которых космически далек ее личный опыт, однако интонация рассказа от первого лица выдержана безупречно. Это берет за живое, но "Птица скорби" не слезодавилка - здесь грамотный баланс горечи, отстраненности, спокойного. достоинства. Феминизм, семейное насилие, социальные проблемы стран Третьего мира, СПИД, жестокое наследие колониализма - все, что надо для премиальной книги. Премия Dinaane за дебют 2019 и лонг Ясной поляны 2025 говорят за себя
I love finding a new African author so this was an impulse buy a few weeks ago. I knew nothing about the book or the author. I'm very glad that Mubanga Kalimamukwento is on my radar now! She is a fantastic debut novelist and I expect great things from her in the future.
The Mourning Bird was a difficult novel to read. It is written well but the subject matter made it gripping and painful all at once. Chimuka is only 11 when she notices that her world is unraveling. The book is as much about her "normal" childhood as it is about her prostitution. The description says it is about the secrets "brimming" in her family but I feel that this is not entirely correct. This novel is about Zambian politics in the 90s.
And this is my issue with the book. I noticed on the back cover Kalimamukwento is a criminal lawyer who lost her mother at a young age. This story seems to come from a place of sincere pain and understanding for others like Chimuka. However, the didactic and preachy element was too obvious to ignore.
When the second death occurs because of an attempted coup, I started feel that the plot was too contrived to feel authentic.
There are so many scenes of rape and sexual harassment in this book. Sensitive readers, please take note. It is graphic. It's devastating to read, but also, probably true.
The national elections take place while she is a prostitute and her best friend is missing. There is this underlying accusation that all those well paid, comfortable politicians are doing nothing to help her.
This is an important topic! The government must be held accountable! They must look after the entire nation, not just the fat cats. This is also the African trope; political corruption with women paying the price.
Then suddenly, the end happens. It feels too good to be true. It is wishful thinking. As though, she feels she (Kalimamukwento) needs to save someone or prove that you can be saved.
Kalimamukwento has a lot of experience to draw from as a lawyer and a young orphan. I expect her next book will be better.
Solid. The book started off well, and I was hooked by the setup of the family dynamic. It quickly became very confusing, because the events leading up to Tate's death jumped really quickly and jarringly between topics. The blurb on the back of the book is, in this sense, really quite misleading because it implies that multiple topics like HIV, infidelity, a military coup etc. are primarily focused on, when in reality they're only mentioned in Chimuka's passing thoughts. Really quite an awful blurb; it revealed too much info about the plot whilst also saying nothing correct about it.
I liked the exploration of Chimuka's life towards the middle of the book; it felt very vivid and quite heartbreaking in its authenticity. Everything revealed a lot about Chimuka as a narrator, her (and everyone else's) outlook on things, and the world around them. The pain that Chimuka had to live in, especially in her middle teenage years, was both shown and told powerfully; her narrative in these parts especially was very raw, organic, and lifelike. These were done quite well and were the highlights of my reading experience.
The end of the book again took a twist for the confusing, as there is little to no insight on Chimuka's thought process as her lifestyle and perspective change. The conclusion feels rushed and not very believable, a harsh contrast to the vivid imagery conjured up in the chapters leading up to it. It felt to me that a huge chunk of Chimuka's growth was just skipped over between the events of her 'past' and her 'now,' and that it was all condensed into a page of information. Disappointing, as this work otherwise boasted a good start and a spectacular middle. Fizzled out by the end; would easily be 4 stars if given more pages and attention.
WOW!!! This heartbreaking story is told from the point of view of Chimuka, a young girl ( 11 at the beginning ) in 1990's Zambia. The story begin with a seemingly "happy" family of 5. Tate, the father, is a teacher, and supposedly a loving father and husband. Chimuka has two brothers. They are living close to the poverty line, but manage to keep their home. Given the absolutely horrific living conditions of thousands in the country I found it jarring to know that the family owns a television and watch American shows like McGyver... Gradually the family disintegrates thru infidelity, AIDS, the death of a child and the suicide of the mother. Chimuka who is bright and wants to be a teacher ends up on the streets with other homeless children. She learns to steal to eat and inhales glue to deaden her mind. Eventually after repeated rape she turns to prostitution. The ongoing question concerns whether she will survive at all or find a way out of her desperate profession. Highly recommend. Kristi & Abby Tabby
A beautiful and easy read by Mubanga, pulled at my heart strings with the raw emotions with which it was written. Mubanga captured the characters, the nations and the different scenes so well. The heartbreak of losing not just a parent but a breadwinner and having everything taken away by the family is a tragedy that we need to do away with. I would have loved to hear the stories of the other street kids to hear how they ended up on the streets as well as the other ladies from the 1st house. As people its easy to judge why people find themselves in the situations they are in without knowing the full story. I love how Mubanga says a lot without actually saying much but the pieces come together seamlessly and present a very clear picture. A beautifuly written book that captures the burden and the hope of a young girl so well. Congratulations Mubanga and looking forward to more of your work.
Three stars for the crude story and how realistic it was (perhaps except the ending). What appaled me is not the main characters and what they had to resort to, but the "regular" and respected people who take advantage of them. And how women do not support each other but drag themselves down. Lastly how women choose not to see in the name of marriage.
Three stars because I found the writing bit difficult to read smoothly finding myself trailing off with other thoughts or skipping sentence or two.
I think the author managed very well to portait some traits and chatacteristics of Zambians (this is of course not to generalize).
Winner of the Dinaane debut fiction award in 2019, the book depicts the bleak and awful life of a young girl whose life is turned upside down after the death of her parents. Forced into begging, and then prostitution at an early age, the writer describes, in unfliching prose, the brutality and grinding poverty of girls trapped in such situations. The writer has created a vivid sense of place (albeit a ghastly one), Zambia in a time of failed coups, a declining economy and police brutality. The prose is brutally honest, the story a wrenching one of love and loss. It's a quick read and offers a fragile possibility of hope at the end ....
This is such a fantastic read. 11 year old Chumaka has already experienced enough pain to last a lifetime: her parents deaths and the death of her youngest brother. Her life spirals out of control when she is forced to live with her aunt and husband. This book tackles a lot of difficult topics: sexual abuse, drug, use, prostitution , poverty and hunger. Chumaka’s life takes a drastic turnaround when she allows someone to give her the help she so sorely needs. As tough as this is to r3ad the writing is captivating and enthralling
This is an undeniably decent book. But the writing style failed the storyline horribly...it was very dully written, but you could tell the story had so much potential. The sentence structure, the descriptions, the storytelling was all abysmal and mediocre...goes to show that great storytelling is more than just about having a great plot...its also about how you relay said plot, and the way the storyline in this book was relayed was very boring and unsatisfactory...it even sent me into a reading slump. Shame.