Coconut

by Kopano Matlwa

An important rumination on youth in modern-day South Africa, this haunting debut novel tells the story of two extraordinary young women who have grown up black in white suburbs and must now struggle to find their identities. The rich and pampered Ofilwe has taken her privileged lifestyle for granted, and must confront her swiftly dwindling sense of culture when her soulless world falls apart. Meanwhile, the hip and sassy Fiks is an ambitious go-getter desperate to leave her vicious past behind for the glossy sophistication of city life, but finds Johannesburg to be more complicated and unforgiving than she expected. These two stories artfully come together to illustrate the weight of history upon a new generation in South Africa.

Genres: Fiction, Africa, South Africa, African Literature, Contemporary, Race, Young Adult

Paperback

First published January 1, 2007

About the author

Podcast with Kopano Matlwa by Victor Dlamini (May 5th, 2008)

http://victordlamini.book.co.za/blog/...

Reviews

[Zanna · Rating 4 out of 5]

I do not know how to make it pretty. I do not know how to mask it. It is not a piece of literary genius. It is the story of our lives. It is our story, told in our own words as we feel it every day. It is boring. It is plain. It is overdone and definitely not newsworthy. But it is the story we have to tell

Too much humility in this afterword; this text may not be pretty but it certainly isn't boring or overdone, and it's plain only in the sense of being true in the way that only fiction can be, and unadorned by the leavening magics that some imaginations infuse into the worlds they bring into being through fiction's transformations. If the voicing of the narrators (especially young children) occasionally grates on me, what stories of displaced languages and bodies are hidden in my irritation? Ofilwe and Fikile: sister victims of the same poison of racism and the same loss of violently injured cultures. One is a little more cushioned, a little more privileged, but the effect of juxtaposition here shows how colonisation and white supremacy have structured other axes of difference like gender and wealth. In many ways the young women and their male age-mates suffer similarly.

This reminded me of The Sabi, another vital story of the corrosive effects of racism that leaves me with little to say in response. It isn't my turn to speak.

[Baratang · Rating 4 out of 5]

Kopano dared to talk about how us, the post apartheid black people of South Africa perceive what is important and what is not, in order for us to survive and prosper. Sadly but true, the repressive colonial and apartheid systems we've been under made us regard our languages and everything African as inferior. We are black but propagate the European agenda and dreams for our own lives and those of our children.
Nonetheless life will forever remind a person who she is, through the frustrations and the hurt a person goes through while trying to be what she is not. The emotional, physical, financial and health implications, and the string of failures will forever be there. Black women in South Africa buy artificial hair, apply scalp damaging relaxers on their nappy hair, and wear clothes that even a blind man can see were not designed for the African figure. We send our children to English medium schools and frawn upon those who cannot afford to. There is also a huge socio-economic divide as seen between Fikile and Ofilwe's families. Irrespective of the economic disparity, these groups are all coconuts, wanting to live and be like Europeans, and those who have the money, seeking validation from the Europeans and embarassed by their own inherent African ways of doinf things. I hope it is not too late for South Africans and other Africans to realise to heed to grandma's story about the the apples and the pear. That is the truth and nothing else but the truth. We can have less stressed. happier and progressive people in this country, who appreciate others, without wanting to be like them.

[Repellent Boy · Rating 3 out of 5]

3,5. "Nuez de coco" nos va a hablar de la primera generación de personas que nacen libres en Sudáfrica tras el final del Apartheid. A través de las dos protagonistas, con dos visiones muy diferentes, conoceremos las consecuenias aún visibles de este horrible período y como afecta aún en el día a día de todas estas personas, que aunque ya son libres sobre escrito, queda mucho para que también sean libres e iguales en la práctica.

El año pasado tuve mi primer encuentro con Kopano Matlwa leyendo "Florescencia", que al igual que "Nuez de coco" tambén hablaba sobre el apartheid, y el racismo y la xenofobía derivada de semejante barbarie. Mientras que en el primero me impactó y horrorizó el odio y desprecio que este horrible periodo había provocado entre las mismas personas de allí, provocando racismo entre ellos mismos por tener más o menos oscura la piel, en "Nuez de coco" la historia se centra más en el autodesprecio. Nuestras dos protagonistas rechazan su color de piel y a toda persona que no sea blanca, entendiendo a estas como símbolos de prosperidad y felicidad.

Impacta mucho ver como estas dos mujeres tan diferentes entre ellas y con vidas tan opuestas, caen en la misma trampa: el odio hacia sí mismas. No comprenden el mundo en el que han nacido, pero desean dejar de sentirse inferiores, por lo que sienten que la única manera posible es, o relacionarse solo con personas blancas, o convirtiéndose en una de ellos. Es duro e impactante.

"Florescencia" fue una historia durísima que me gustó muchísimo y me removió, infinitamente, por dentro. Sin embargo, "Nuez de coco" lo he "disfrutado" algo menos y creo que ha sido a causa de dos factores. La historia está dividida en dos partes, una para cada protagonista, y a la vez todo se va contando a través de cachos sueltos y dispersos. Además, ninguna de las protagonistas me ha caído especialmente simpática y quizás eso me ha hecho empatizar algo menos que con la prota de "Florescencia". Creo que la mezcla de las dos cosas ha hecho que no me parezca tan contundente y directo comome pareció este último.

Pese a todo ambos son dos buenos libros de lectura necesaria. Gran parte de lo que sé a día de hoy sobre el Apartheid es gracias a Kopano Matlwa. Es de estas autoras que te enseñan, de esas lecturas que te hacen sentir que entiendes un poquito mejor el mundo en el que vives y ese es uno de mis grandes objetivos a la hora de leer. Afortunadamente en España ya tenemos un tercer libro publicado de la autora, "Agua pasada". Pretendo leerlo pronto.

[Richard · Rating 5 out of 5]

Are You Getting White With Me?

(Rediscovery Blog – Leg IX – Cracking the Coconut with Dr. Matlwa)

Dear Kopano,

You are roughly half my age, yet somehow you have written a book that is unnervingly “mature” in its dissection of a theme that, in my opinion, is the placenta that feeds many of the world’s great novels – the quest for identity and autonomy.

To be quite honest, I was expecting African chicklit. Fortunately, you gave me a whole lot more. The purpose of my Voyage of Rediscovery is to broaden my horizons and to explore worlds that are generally inaccessible to a middle-aged, white guy (which is, sadly, what I have turned out to be). That means I read fiction in the hope that it reflects fact in such way that I am forced to reconsider my perceptions of the real world – my real world. In short, a good book raises questions. And your produced plenty of milk for my hungry mind.

To keep things in perspective, I have boiled my many musings down to a single train of thought (even blending metaphors to extract the coconutty essence of it all).

You may be interested to hear that the Creole community in Holland have their own term for “coconuts.” They refer to people who are brown outside but white inside as “Bounties” – a reference to a popular chocolate bar which has a white, coconut filling (how apt). This implies that the pursuit of “whiteness” (whatever that may be) is not only frowned upon in South Africa, but also in Amsterdam, where race is not necessarily a hot issue.

All this brings to mind the odd expression: “Are you getting white with me?” I’m not sure if this is still commonly used in South Africa, but in my youth it served to firmly remind supposedly inferior parties (of all races) of their place in the pecking order.

All of these terms – coconut, Bounty, white – are almost invariably expressed at an interpersonal level in reference to perceived attempts to achieve or express superiority. I suppose it all boils down to that age-old question: “Do you think you’re better than me?” This blunt shard of rhetoric becomes even more lethal when it is dipped in racial poison. In essence, the coconut or Bounty is accused of misplaced superiority with regard to an entire race or community, and not just at an interpersonal level.

What I find intriguing is that, to my knowledge, none of the characters in your book is ever accused of being a coconut. However, they all portray various dimensions of this theme: Fifi wants to be accepted by her white friends; Fiks wants to escape her dire circumstances; Uncle has allowed himself to be exploited to consolidate the superiority of his white bosses; and Tshepo is struggling to achieve superiority on his own terms.

Your book is especially impressive in that it does not choose sides, but allows characters to play out different dimensions of the struggle for identity, autonomy and superiority. Naturally, the encounters between these different characters also offer highly provocative food for thought.

That said, I am sure Coconut will be a source of endless debate once it becomes required reading at South African high schools. I wish I could listen in on these discussions, if only to confirm that the issue at hand has as many dimensions as there are people.

[Leslie · Rating 3 out of 5]

“In every classroom children are dying. It is a parasitic disease, seizing the mind for its own usage. Using the mind for its own survival. So that it might grow, divide, multiply and infect others. Burnt Sienna washing out. DNA coding for white greed, blond vanity and blue-eyed malevolence. IsiZulu forgotten. Tshivenda a distant memory.”

A "coconut" in South Africa is what's called an "oreo" in the United States: black on the outside and white on the inside. This story is about two different types of coconuts---Ofilwe and Fikile---two young South African girls who are seething with the rage of having no love for their blackness. Kopano Matlwa has written this book in fast-moving parts: the first in Ofilwe's voice, while the second is written in Fikile (aka "Fiks")'s voice. At one point another voice is added---that of Ofilwe's brother, Tshepo---providing a much needed counterpoint and I was disappointed not to hear more from him. When Fikile says "I need to spring-clean my head. There is a real big mess up there but I am too afraid to go in because I do not think I have the strength to handle the task of tidying it all" might she be uttering the emotions behind Matlwa's need to lay these relentless truths on the table? I craved some tenderness or the presence of a wise parent, teacher, or mentor; however, their absence did not make this book less readable. The scattered english spoken by Ofilwe's mother seemed to be both metaphor and symbol for the clash of sensibilities present in post-apartheid South Africa. I'm glad the Afro Book Club brought this book to my attention.

[Tony · Rating 5 out of 5]

An excellent but disturbing look at the lives of two black girls living in post aparteid South Africa. One has the support of family and money whilst the other has neither. Both girls have dreams about making it in the world but to achieve those dreams there is an underlying pressure to fit in, to conform, to assimilate into the culture that gives the most opportunities, the white culture. They aspire to be accepted into white society and reap the benefits. The tension it creates while challenging them and spurs them on, also start to change them and crush their links with their own language, community and culture. One girl grows up rejecting the language of her family and can now only speak English, the other resents having to use public transport with other black people and looks down on them. When asked in school what she wanted to be when she grew up her answer was, 'I want to be white.' The two girls pull away from their black communities and roots but are not really accepted in white society. People look through them, not seeing them, just their skin. As more and more opportunites are made available to black people in South Africa, will this type of tension increase? Will the scramble for material wealth result in the complete rejection of traditional values and culture? For the country's sake, I hope not.

[Noemi Kuban · Rating 4 out of 5]

The South African novel follows a day from the perspective of two black girls, intertwined with vignettes of their past and background, making you piece together their whole story. It gradually reveals the heaviness of internalized ethnic and cultural inferiority, explores the topics of colonized consciousness, passing, colorism. Being black in a society where white is the ideal, the girls end up in a constant strive for whiteness and loss of identity. An accurate but heartbreaking portrait of internalized racism.

[Michelle · Rating 5 out of 5]

Hilarious, thought-provoking, punch-in-the-gut: this was a quick read for me.
The story focuses on two girls, representative of the born free generation: Ofilwe, who lives a lavish life but struggles with the issue of cultural heritage; and Fikile, a single-minded, go-getter who drops out of school to embark on Project Infinity, a project which will afford her the kind of lifestyle that Ofilwe seems to take for granted.

It’s a delightful story, one which is culturally as well as socially relevant; and highlights amongst other important issues, the ongoing identity struggle facing young people of colour in the new dispensation.

The author does not choose sides. Rather, she allows the respective stories to play out, with the inclusion of monologue, which is often blunt and to the point, highlighting the internal struggle faced by the characters.

At the end of the story, these words uttered by the stranger on the train, make me wonder about the progress made to change this inherited collective consciousness “... I watched little spots of amber and auburn become less of what Africa dreamed of and more of what Europe thought we ought to be. I saw a dark-skinned people refusing to be associated with the red soil, the mud huts and the glistening stone beads that they once loved.”

This is Kopano Matlwa’s debut novel. I have two other novels by the author and I’m eager to dive in and see what else she has in store.

[Dajana Kuban · Rating 5 out of 5]

“...I dont know how to mask it. It is not a piece of literary genius. It is the story of our lives. It is our story, told in our own words as we feel it every day. It is boring. It is plain. It is overdone and definitely not newsworthy. ...But it is the story we have to tell.”

and I completely disagree.
there is nothing to mask, the story isn’t boring nor overdone.
It is plain in the best possible way. A brutally honest literary representation of the black experience in the post apartheid South Africa. Matlwa’s writing is simple yet rigid, telling things as they are.

Books like Coconut are an always-needed reminder to us white people, of the responsibility we carry for the perpetration of racism.

[Beverly · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was a 3+ read for me.

My thoughts:
• This was a quick read once I got use to the author’s writing style.
• This book is divided into two parts – each part telling the story of a girl in the post-apartheid South Africa from different economic statuses – the girls do not know each other and there is only one scene in the book where they unknowingly meet briefly.
• For me the sum of the two stories works better than the parts of the story so it was after reading the book that the storylines were more informative and valuable in the messaging.
• I thought the author was a very astute observer of issues faced by young women and could eloquently write about the issues in a more universal political context without being preaching – especially for her young age at the time she wrote the book.
• The author did a good job of showing the legacy of colonized consciousness as it relates to appearance of women as they want to gain “power” and recognition.
• I would read future works by the author.

[Mwayi Louise Gowelo · Rating 2 out of 5]

I have mixed feelings about this book. The story details the lives of 2 young South African black girls who live in predominantly white environments hence the title "coconut". Black on the outside, white on the inside. One of them struggles with her identity as a black girl who only has white friends but eventually embraces the fact that she is black and makes black friends and tries to re-connect with her black roots. On the other hand is Fikile who is determined to shun all things black and goes as far as bleaching her skin and wearing blond wigs and refusing to speak her vernacular language. Fikile associates being black with negativity. It sounds like a good story right? Except the writing style is a bit all over the place. There are sudden flashbacks which are indicated by italic font and I really struggled to understand the structure and why she chose to write it like that.

[Sinovuyo Nkonki · Rating 4 out of 5]

Having been called a 'coconut' all my life, this book caught my attention immediately. It captured the dual world influence that young Black South African's brought up in the suburbs and exposed to Westernised settings (like my self) experience. It is, in my opinion, so culturally and socially relevant!(and well-written) I was just upset I hadn't written it first lol!Her writing carries a lot of depth and insight.

[Pedro · Rating 4 out of 5]

3,5

En la Sudáfrica post-apartheid, recorremos la vida de dos muchachas negras desde su infancia.

La primera parte está destinada a Ofilwe, nacida en el seno de una familia de creciente bienestar económico; en la segunda, a Fikile, criada por su abuela y su tío en un hogar pobre, pero decidida a progresar.

"Descubrirás, Ofilwe, que las personas a las que te esfuerzas tanto en parecerte algún día te rechazarán, porque por mucho que finjas serlo, tu no eres uno de ellos. Entonces regresarás, pero estarás muy lejos, muy lejos para volver. Atrapada entre dos mundos..."

Filike: "Las personas como yo tenemos que tomar decisiones difíciles. Todo lo que vale la pena en esta vida tiene un precio, un precio que no siempre es fácil de afrontar. Por eso no dejo pasar una sola oportunidad sin considerarla seriamente. Como este trabajo de camarera en el Silver Spoon, un peldaño en el camino"

Vemos los diversos matices de las actitudes humanas: desprecio, esnobismo, resignación, pereza, oportunismo, ambición, grosería, machismo, el idioma materno, las tradiciones, el progreso.

Hay algunos momentos en que la vida de ambas de cruzan, visto desde ambas perspectivas. Y dos episodios que me parecieron muy significativos en la historia: la visita de la familia de Ofilwe al restaurant exclusivo, el Silver Spoon, en el que Filike trabaja como mesera ; y el encuentro de Filike en el tren con el caballero del maletín.

Una buena novela, que expresa de forma muy verosímil la situación de los jóvenes negros en la transición sudafricana.

PD: Desconozco las razones que llevaron a elegir el título; tal vez el coco tenga un simbolismo local. La traducción exacta de Coconut (el título original), sería Coco; aunque entiendo que no suena bien, tiene gusto a poco; Nuez de coco suena mejor.

Kopano Matlwa (1985) nació y vive en Sudáfrica donde trabaja como médica y escritora; esta es su primera novela. La había conocido a través de Florescencia, más dramática aunque sin tanta sutileza.

[بثينة الإبراهيم · Rating 5 out of 5]

فرغت من قراءة رواية "جوز الهند" للكاتبة الجنوب أفريقية كوبانو ماتلوا (فازت بجائزة وول سوينكا للأدب الأفريقي عام 2010 والجائزة الأدبية للاتحاد الأوروبي، صدرت عن دار عام 2007 عن جاكانا ميديا) التي تتحدث عن فتاتين سوداوين تنشأان في محيط أبيض، وفي محاولة منهما للنجاة، تتخليان -بوعي أو بلا وعي- عن هويتهما الحقيقية.
تنقسم الرواية إلى جزأين أفردت الكاتبة الأول منهما للحديث عن أوفيلوي، المراهقة التي تعيش في جوار أبيض وترافق فتيات بيض وتحب أن تعيش مثلهم، ولم تكن أمها ترى عيبًا في ذلك، وكانت تشعر دومًا بحماس يحرج أوفيلوي كلما زارتها صديقاتها من البيض! الوحيد الذي كان يعترض على ذلك هو الأخ تشيبو الذي كان ينبهها باستمرار على محاولاتها "غير الواعية" للانسلاخ من هويتها، وأنها حتى عندما كانت تزين جدران غرفتها بصور لنجوم كشأن كل المراهقات لم تختر واحدًا ببشرة داكنة! كانت تلك لحظة المعرفة الأولى -إن صح التعبير- اللحظة التي وعت فيها أوفيلوي أنها تتشبه بالبيض معتبرة أن ذلك نمط الحياة الطبيعية، وبعدها تقطع علاقتها بصديقتها المقربة (البيضاء) وتبدأ محاولات جادة لتعلم لغتها الأم.
لكن فيكيلز، الفتاة التي احتلت القسم الثاني من الكتاب، كانت ترى الأمر من منظور مختلف تمامًا، فهي تحاول قطع علاقتها بجذورها السمراء، فتتعلم الإنجليزية بطلاقة وترفض الحديث بغيرها وتنقطع عن الذهاب إلى المدرسة التي يكثر فيها الطلاب السود، وكانت تعبر عن اشمئزازها من أحاديث الفتيات وجدائلهن المضفورة احتفالًا بالعام الدراسي الجديد والتي ستبقى لأسابيع دون غسيل، لم تر في تلك المدرسة سوى مرتع للقذارة! حين سألتها معلمة الابتدائية ماذا تود أن تصبح عندما تكبر قالت: بيضاء! وظلت مصرة على رأيها رغم محاولات المعلمة بإقناعها باستحالة ذلك. استعاضت فيكيلز عن المدرسة السوداء بمجلات تهتم بحياة المشاهير البيض مؤمنة أنها يومًا ما ستحظى بحياة مماثلة، (Fake it till you make it) هكذا كانت تردد لنفسها دومًا!
فيكيلز هنا تشبه بيكولا بريدلوف -بطلة رواية العين الأكثر زرقة لتوني موريسون- في سعيها الجاد للحصول على بطاقة الدخول نحو العالم السحري، عالم البياض، كل منهما تبحث عن عراب مثل جنية سندريلا ينقلها بضربة عصا واحدة إلى عالم السعادة المطلقة، وجدته بيكولا في الساحر الذي أفقدها النظر، وتظن فيكياز أنه بول، الرجل الذي يدعوها لترك عملها كنادلة في مقهى سيلفر سبونز وأن ترحل معه واعدًا بمنحها ما يعادل راتبها في المقهى لعام أو اثنين، ما يعني أنها ستقدم كثيرًا من التنازلات!
تبدو فيكيلز مثل ثمرة جوز الهند، داكنة من الخارج وناصعة البياض من الداخل، وظلت مخلصة لبياضها الداخلي -دون أن يكون معادلًا لنقاء السريرة هنا- حتى بعد تعرضها لهزات تركت في نفسها أثرًا يشبه أثر الرمل الخفيف الذي أثاره الأخطبوط، بحثًا عن النجاة في عالم لا يرى في السواد أكثر من "وصمة"!

[Dandelion_ · Rating 2 out of 5]

Seeking only to be completely honest, my commentary is as follows:
Reading Coconut was not without difficulty. I found that I could not easily identify with the analogies / choices of description that form the narrative of the book. I also felt that (in places), the analogies failed to depict and explore the depth of the issues the author was trying to tug at, and that the interactions between some of the characters was not adequately developed.
I did not find the use of italics, and the oscillation between those and straight words as a means of fluctuating between the the past and present, to be effective. For me, it created confusion and hindered the coherency of my reading as I constantly strove to 'get my bearings' right.
Nevertheless, I wanted to explore the thoughts here, and I can appreciate and understand the internal struggle the main character(s) face. In my opinion, this complexity really is something that needs to be explored and Coconut has brought this struggle to my consciousness. For that, the book was worth the read.

[Paige · Rating 3 out of 5]

At the very end of this book, Kopano Matlwa writes, "I do not know how to make it pretty. I do not know how to mask it. It is not a piece of literary genius. [...] It is overdone and definitely not newsworthy. But it is the story we have to tell."

I agree that the writing is generally not captivating, although at times it is very poetic. I ran into some frustrations with the style, especially in the first half--so much so that I almost stopped reading it. But the first few pages of the second half really grabbed me and I'm glad I stuck with it, because the two parts really work well together. I also agree that this is a story that needs to be told; it is primarily a story of identity and colonialism, specifically black identity in present day South Africa, and it was this aspect of the book that found the most interesting and thought-provoking. At times the writing is very blunt but I definitely appreciate the importance of what she is saying.

[Tiah]

The author doesn't hold back with the punches.

The characters are full of faults and humanity. Neither woman is easy to like. But their stories are gripping.

I am not sure if the author has a solution. But with her two main characters, the author has drawn a masterful portrait of the problems and pitfalls that face the emerging South African middle-class (or those striving for it) in the New South Africa.

This isn't an issue that is unique to South Africa. Immigrants to the US struggle with cultural identity vs their children becoming "westernized" all the time. But there is a key difference, the people coming to the US are immigrants, blacks in South Africa are in their own homeland.

Which in itself opens up a minefield - but perhaps one that needs to be addressed sooner, rather than later.

[Zuzana Kubáň · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book tells the story of two girls growing up in the so called “free South Africa”. On the one hand, we have a black middle class girl who is struggling to navigate the whiteness that she faces on a daily basis. On the other hand, there is another girl, an orphan striving towards “whiteness”.

Through these two stories, the reader gets a glimpse into the hardships of black South Africans, mainly due to the society’s rejection of them and not knowing where they quite belong. It also asks the questions of what it really means to be white or black. As such, I believe that this book has the ability to show white people the effects of their rejection and how easily they could amend that, for instance just by simply changing what and how they say it.

[Ciahnan Darrell · Rating 4 out of 5]

A YA novel perfectly suited to introducing students to concepts such as colonized consciousness, code switching, passing etc. I've taught the countless times in my Intro to African Literatures class and always had great buy-in from my students.

[Berta Primaveras · Rating 4 out of 5]

Gallina de piel

[Julie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Matlwa sorta captured this book in her self-conscious dedication/apology at the end:

I do not know how to make it pretty. I do not know how to mask it. It is not a piece of literary genius. It is the story of our lives. It is our story, told in our own words as we feel it every day. It is boring. It is plain. It is overdone and definitely not newsworthy. But it is the story we have to tell.

Not because it's bad at all, but because it sacrifices traditional structure in favour of meaning, of trying to examine the complicated tangled emotions of South Africa. It's a bit weird and experimental, the narration seesawing between past and present in little bite-sized vignettes, hopping around the lives of the two black girls who bridge the two halves of the book. It's plotless; it's really just a glimpse into their lives, an examination of Blackness & racial identity & self-image/self-worth in South Africa. And because of that, it's important: it's a not-often-discussed perspective and you can hear Matlwa's anxiety and distress in the pages, as their African culture is washed away and erased by western whiteness, as their colonisers complete their colonisation by winning over the minds of black children, into wanting to be like them, look like them, become white. Our two protagonists are framed as rather silly, optimistic girls, but their surface-level superficiality belies some deeper, darker systemic problems.

It's a great, heartbreaking portrait of internalised racism & unconscious self-loathing. (Hence the title: coconut, for being white on the inside, brown on the outside.)

Found this via the Guardian's YA Around the World list, for my reading bingo; I'll happily read more from that list bc I think it's so important to read more YA books that aren't set in your metaphorical backyard.

Favourite quotes:
Unlike some of my female friends, I do not have a picture of an ideal husband in mind nor am I certain whether I even fancy one.

Strangely enough, I think about my future children quite a bit. I imagine lovely round dimpled faces and Colgate smiles running past sticky walls. In my dreams they are painted in shades of pink. I am afraid of what that means.

***

We dare not eat with our naked fingertips, walk in generous groups, speak merrily in booming voices and laugh our mqombothi laughs. They will scold us if we dare, not with their lips, Lord, because the laws prevent them from doing so, but with their eyes. They will shout, "Stop acting black!" "Stop acting black!" is what they will shout. And we will pause, perplexed, unsure of what that means, for are we not black, Father? No, not in the malls, Lord. We may not be black in restaurants, in suburbs and in schools. Oh, how it nauseates them if we even fantasise about being black, truly black. The old rules remain and the old sentiments are unchanged. We know, Lord, because those disapproving eyes scold us still; that crisp air of hatred and disgust crawls into our wide-open nostrils still.

***

Where does an unused language go? Is it packed away in an old crumbly cereal box along with a misplaced tomato, your old locker code, first telephone number and the location of your budgie's grave, and then shoved into the dusty garage space of your brain? Or is it blown up or deleted or is it shredded up into a gazillion fragments or degenerated or decomposed into a nasty smell and excreted out of your body? Could it all possibly be flushed away? My own tongue escaped from me completely? That cannot be. Mama and Daddy speak it all the time, although not to me nor to each other. But surely my eardrums filter in some of that?

***

It was only when I'd finished scheming, plotting graphs and typing out my method, that I realised how many gaping holes I had in my head. There I was battling to put sentences together, speaking in the slightest of whimpers, hoping that Daddy would pretend, out of pity, that he understood so that I would not be forced to repeat the mumbo jumbo I had spewed out. Each word ended in a shudder, a cringe.

***

[When Ofilwe puts up a collage of "people I thought were the greatest breathing beings of our time" on her bedroom wall, and her brother shouts at her to take them down:]

The rest that followed was a jumble. A jumble I can barely remember, except for the word 'white'. White. White. White. There was not a single face of colour on the wall. I had not noticed. Honest. It was only after he pointed it out that I saw it too. I mean, why on earth would I do something like that intentionally? What did it matter anyway? It was purely a coincidence; perhaps there were no black faces I liked in the magazines I cut out from. "None at all?" I looked around once more and then at Tshepo. In his eyes I saw what was only to hit me many years from then.

***

"Father, I do not doubt that you love your children," she would say.

"I do not doubt that you love all your children." Stressing the 'all'.

"I do not doubt that you made us all as equals, I do not doubt that when you created this earthly home, that all within was for us all to share."

"I do not doubt, Lord, that some day it will be as you intended." And then she would begin to sob.

"But which day, Lord? On which day will it be as you desired?"

***

I need to spring-clean my head. There is a real big mess up there but I am too afraid to go in because I do not think I have the strength to handle the task of tidying it all. It is a long time since I was there last. I am scared of what I may find. I am fearful of the cluttered floor, the dusty shelves, the locked cases, the stuffed drawers, the broken bulbs and the cracked windows.

[Liralen · Rating 3 out of 5]

Coconut is set in post-Apartheid South Africa, where legally everyone is equal but in reality things are more complicated. The narrators here struggle in and against their circumstances, constantly seeking to be something they are not, constantly thinking that something else is better. That white is better.

There's not actually much by way of plot/story here. As the book unfolds, we get a clearer and clearer idea of the reality of life for these two characters (as opposed to that which they seek to make reality), but we get a lot more context than we do plot. The climactic moment is, all things considered, relatively minor...but it is also something of a culmination of everything the plot (or context) has been building towards.

The rapid back-and-forth didn't, honestly, work terribly well for me—I found it something of a struggle to get into and never really acclimated. I'm not sure how much was said with two voices that couldn't have been said with one...although a more traditional narrative structure would change this book quite a lot. But...the strength of the book lies, I think, in the refusal to let any one person or perspective be at the heart of this internal struggle/internalised racism. So many characters, black and white and for multiple reasons, maintain deeply flawed perspectives. Those characters who know better, who have a more complex understanding of race and class and self-worth, are not allowed by the POV characters to speak.

I'm still not really sure what to think about the book as a whole. The content I applaud, but I did find the structure a tremendous struggle. Still, I'd be interested to read Spilt Milk.

[Donald · Rating 4 out of 5]

In the end the stories come together. It explores issues of identities very well. Though I must admit to being a simple reader and did not appreciate the going in and out of style and character, which lost me and frustrated me on a few occasions. But still a good book discussing relevant issues that apply to us in the US too, but perhaps more stark in a country were indigenous languages are spoken.

[Neus Gutiérrez · Rating 3 out of 5]

Muy interesante. Me gusta mucho cómo escribe Kopano y lo que quiere mostrar. Es duro y jodido, pero necesario. Aunque realmente me gustó más el de Florescencia.

[avrilconuve · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ofilwe y Fikile son dos chicas negras de la misma edad, que crecen en la Sudáfrica de los noventa; pero en dos contextos bien diferentes. Ofilwe, de familia de "nuevos ricos" o denominada "del BEE" (Black Economic Empowerment). Criada en la cultura blanca, vivirá los conflictos asociados a ser una coconut (en argot sudafricano: negra por fuera y blanca por dentro, como la nuez de coco). En ella se percibe la sensibilidad de quien no entiende el racismo, el odio y la discriminación que sufre. De quien realiza el viaje de regreso a su origen y ha de aprenderlo todo de nuevo: su lengua, su cultura y la forma de vida de su gente.

Fikile sin embargo, es el rostro de la mayoría de la población negra born free sudafricana: pobre. Con Fikile cada párrafo duele. En ella todo es odio y rechazo hacia lo negro, hacia su lengua; hacia ella misma, en última instancia. Quizás en ese rechazo, ella siente que encontrará la aceptación de lo blanco; todo cuanto admira. Ella se siente una coconut, nacida en un lugar que no es el suyo. Su fortaleza y determinación ciega quizás nos hace comprender de qué manera se sustentan los ideales de éxito, realización y la propia felicidad, en sociedades tan completamente desiguales e injustas socialmente.

Es un libro entrañable. Después de leer "Florescencia" de Kopano Matlwa, quería tener su primera novela. No me ha decepcionado y ha superado las expectativas que tenía al inicio de empezarla. Es necesario leer estas voces, que nos hablan de los distintos contextos de las mujeres africanas.

[Busi Khumalo · Rating 5 out of 5]

Such an honest and broad story line that looks into the lives of two fascinating young women who reflect on how and what black South African girls think of themselves and their peers. The self-inflicted harm to appear (and only to appear) beautiful, smart, independent and confident. Kopano has successfully managed to take us on a rollercoaster of emotions (and a couple of tears, lol)
I somehow see myself in both these young women's struggles and comfort. I absolutely appreciate Kopano's approach to the book, it is definitely one of my absolute favorite.

[Bev · Rating 5 out of 5]

Just superb. This book is an amazing insight into the thoughts of two young black girls in the New South Africa, one living the privileged life and trying to ignore her cultural heritage, and one living, with loathing and shame, in one of the townships. It's too much to talk about; it must be read. Lyrical, wonderful first novel, and a worthy European Union winner.

[Rosa]

He llegit l'edició de Sembra amb Traducció d'Elisabet Ràfols-Sagués. M'he va costar entrar però un cop dins m'he quedat en més ganes de conèixer és sobre les protagonistes. A més, m'ha anat molt bé per sortir del cercle literatura de noies blanques que s'emborratxen per Londres i agafen ETS. Què podria llegir per l'estil?

[Judy · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was amazing. Small vignettes that were beautiful woven together to set a heartbreaking tone. The childlike perspective of race relations was a bit quaint but the story has a powerful message overall.

[Kelsea · Rating 5 out of 5]

I love this book. Her writing flows so well, linear and in all different directions. An interesting writing style on perspective.