When the Village Sleeps is a visionary novel about what the loss of identity and dignity do to a people afflicted by decades of brokenness. Told through the lives and spirits of four generations of amaTolo women, including The Old, who speak wisdom with ever-increasing urgency, it moves between the bustling township setting of Kwanele and the different rhythms of rural village life. It recalls the sweeping sagas of the great A.C. Jordan and the Dhlomo brothers and invokes the poetry of S.E.K. Mqhayi, while boldly exploring urgent and contemporary issues. An ode to the complex strengths of South African women, When the Village Sleeps is also a powerful call to respect the earth that nurtures human life, and to live in self-sufficiency and harmony with the environment and each other.
Magona is a native of the former Transkei region. She grew up in Bouvlei near Cape Town, where she worked as a domestic and completed her secondary education by correspondence. Magona later graduated from the University of South Africa and earned her Masters of Science in Organisational Social Work from Columbia University.
She starred as Singisa in the isiXhosa classic drama Ityala Lamawele.
She worked in various capacities for the United Nations for over 20 years, retiring in 2003.
In the 2013 computer-animated adventure comedy film Khumba she was the voice actor for the character Gemsbok Healer.
She is Writer-in-Residence at the University of the Western Cape and has been a visiting Professor working at Georgia State University.
Such an amazingly woven story demonstrating our interconnectedness as a people. Very traumatic reading as it reflects the times that we live in as black SAfricans
The story is told through the lives of four amaTolo women, Khulu, the grandmother who has retired to the village after labouring as a domestic all her life for a white family in Cape Town. She should be resting and enjoying her twilight years but worries about her daughter. Phylis, who though has taken over her old job, is still battling to make ends meet. Busi, the granddaughter, who carried the hopes and dreams of the family but was rejected by her father, makes a tragic, life-altering decision. Mandlakazi, great-granddaughter, never given a chance at life, turned out to be a lighthouse who carried her shortcomings with grace and humility. They are all not only connected by familial ties; they are also part of a community whose dreams, 27 years later, have still not materialised. This "Better Life For All" did not include them.
MaSindiwe, as in "Forced To Grow," weaves in national and personal history. As a young woman who came of age in apartheid SAfrica and worked herself out of the doldrums, her disappointment in this new, free and democratic SAfrica is evident. Throughout the movement between the township, where Busi and her mother, Phylis, reside in a backroom at Busi's aunt's house, to the city where Busi has the privilege of attending a well-resourced Model C school , therefore has no cause to complain since the schools in the townships are decaying, and where Phylis works and where everything works, to the village, where Khulu is hoping to retire.
The transitioning of the language between isiXhosa and English forces the reader to sit up straighter and read closer because our native languages are so descriptive and shoot to the heart. I loved the book though it was traumatic to read. Such a textured and layered narrative. Brutally honest. The musicality in the poetry rendered the reading of the stanzas mystical. Folklore-esque.
I like the idea of returning to the source, the earth. The idea of establishing self-sustaining communities, but on what land? Black SAfricans are a landless people. This "returning to source" reminded of another book I read in 2019 which left me emotionally scarred, Living Wildly, which advocated self-sustainability by living off the earth - foraging and windowsill gardening etc., fantastic if you can trudge through the heap of uncollected rubbish in Diepsloot where you live or if you are quick enough to dodge a stray bullet while picking coriander from your windowsill on The Cape Flats.
Hope. We can only hope for a better life for the next generation and reimagine a better future for our children.
I'll quickly say that the book touches on Busisiwe and what seemed to be her struggles with feeling loved by her parents. She goes in to seeking that love elsewhere leading to some weird decisions over her life. Also, I feel that the synopsis from the book gave me the idea that the story would have multiple narratives which it didn't. Anyway..
I had a rather slow start getting into the story and adjusting myself accordingly. One can feel that the book was written by a wise person, for there is wisdom in the book and a great deal of lessons to learn especially for the younger generation.
Like I said, the first few chapters of the book were slow for me to get into. I think my interest piqued when grandma took great granddaughter with her to live the Village life. Otherwise the beginning was weird for me. Also I couldn't wrap my head around the idea of a teenager deliberately doing what Busisiwe did.
The twist in the story was unexpected but we rolled with it until the very end. Who I thought was the protagonist swiftly chilled in the background as a new star of the show took over.
This book shows the diversity of SA writers and being that this was my first book by Dr Sindiwe Magona, I would very much like to see what she did with her other works of fiction.
If you've read this book, what are your thoughts on it? Anything you'd like to point out?
Augh I did not come away with a great opinion of this Nothing against allegories but they do have to be careful about their correspondents. You can't dip in and out of allegory. It requires rigour. Nothing against didactic writing, but it invites criticism on a political level rather than a literary one. If you want people to appreciate your didactic novel as a novel, the politics in it need to have a sounder ideological basis than indirectly blaming the poor for their poverty (sneakers and handouts, instead of Retvrning to subsistence farming like the noble heroine) or scolding people with disabilities for not being cheerful enough until they learn better. I don't know what I expected from a book wherein "The Old" have the last word on every issue, but it wasn't **What Katie Did**. Conservativism pops up in the strangest places. I kinda DO have something against rags-to-riches tales, but I am certainly not gonna warm to one *more* when the plucky and perfectly perky protagonist has peculiar powers. (The uniqueness, to be clear, is the issue. I liked **Midnight's Children**, am suspicious of **Matilda**) What do we learn about the world when a struggling family succeeds through a child who, in addition to having no personality flaws (thus, thru losing chiaroscuro, effectively no personality), can see the future? 'See a psychic'? What is the point of this narrative arc? I'm having to rein myself in here because the novel isn't a condemnable object. It's duller than that. It's simply three different types of mild failure at once, which means that I keep getting tempted into criticising it in three different ways. But it doesn't merit a triple-length review when I could simply say: what a let-down.
One thing I really love about multilingual authors, especially African authors, is how naturally they let characters switch between English and their home languages. It pulls you straight into how people actually speak and think. At the same time, I found myself wishing for little footnotes the way Terry Pratchett does. Not because I need every translation, but because I like staying inside the story without having to Google the meaning of a phrase. I want the option to understand everything without leaving the page if that makes sense?
Outside of that, the book is full of powerful lines. A few that really stayed with me:
“For everyone to surprise all the others, but most of all, surprise themselves. That was the spur, which would invariably lead to confidence.”
“It is in service to others that we truly grow.”
“If I don’t know the essence of me… how will I ever get anyone else to?”
“None of us is complete without the others.”
Part of why these quotes hit so hard is because Magona weaves mental health awareness and self reflection into the story without ever naming it directly. I love when authors do that. It reminded me a little of what Brandon Sanderson does in the earlier books of his Stormlight Archive series, layering the emotional complexity under the plot in a way you just feel as you read.
She tackles a lot in this book: fetal alcohol syndrome, disability in African communities, generational poverty, government assistance cycles, and the stigma older women face when society labels them as witches. But at its core, the story is really about self sufficiency, not in a harsh individualistic way, but in an emotional maturity way. Khulu, the grandmother / great grandmother, is constantly trying to teach her community the difference between accepting support and becoming dependent on it.
The character work is strong, but I did notice one thing. Mandlakazi is written almost like a perfect, mystical figure, while everyone else has flaws and room to grow. It made the realism feel slightly uneven. And the shift from a grounded, almost documentary style beginning into magical visions, fainting spells, and ancestor voices came a little abruptly for me. Creative, yes, but it pulled me out of the story a bit.
Still, this book is rich. If you want something thoughtful and poetic, rooted in South African social realities, with generational themes and real cultural depth, you will appreciate it.
For me, it was not an “I can’t wait to get back to it” kind of read, but it was meaningful, educational, and beautifully written.
Rating: 4.7 out of 5 ⭐️
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Such an amazingly woven story demonstrating our interconnectedness as a people. Very traumatic reading as it reflects the times that we live in as black South African
I had a rather slow start getting into the story and adjusting myself accordingly. One can feel that the book was written by a wise person, for there is wisdom in the book and a great deal of lessons to learn especially for the younger generation.
The story is told through the lives of four amaTolo women, Khulu, the grandmother who has retired to the village after labouring as a domestic all her life for a white family in Cape Town. She should be resting and enjoying her twilight years but worries about her daughter. Phylis, who though has taken over her old job, is still battling to make ends meet. Busi, the granddaughter, who carried the hopes and dreams of the family but was rejected by her father, makes a tragic, life-altering decision. Mandlakazi, great-granddaughter, never given a chance at life, turned out to be a lighthouse who carried her shortcomings with grace and humility. They are all not only connected by familial ties; they are also part of a community whose dreams, 27 years later, have still not materialised. This "Better Life For All" did not include them.
A beautiful, beautiful story - as a white South African, I feel I have learnt so much about the culture of my neighbours, as well as their struggles and their mindsets. Khulu, Mandla and even Busi are the heroes we need.
My only criticism: part 3 of the novel seemed rushed, the story coming to an end to too quickly. I would like to know more about Khulu’s life, about Busi during her high school years and as an adult, and more of Mandla’s experience as a disabled child in a world not accommodating of her.
I picked this up when I was in Cape Town and it was a beautiful novel spanning across generations and captured the pain and hardship of living in poverty within South Africa. There is some mysticism and poetry that was seamlessly woven in and brought in some history and culture. Magona's writing was truly breathtaking.
I loved the character development of Busi and her relationship with her grandma, Khulu. I was a bit disappointed with where the story went, but overall loved this novel and helped me see a different perspective into life in South Africa
I could have given this book three stars but I don't like cussing, in narration or dialogue, as that makes further reading a tense affair where I'm hoping not to encounter any more... I was left with less than a third of the book when the repeated offensive words happened so I saw it to the end.
The difference between this novel and Magona's Mother to Mother is so stark it's almost shocking. If you asked me which book she wrote first, I would by far and away say this one. Part one feels like classic Magona and is wonderful. Part Two takes us down a stranger route, and Part Three is almost unreadably frustrating, from a story perspective. Mandla becomes a Mary Sue and the book becomes wholly fantasy. The magical realism element feels forced at times and ultimately comes off as an ill fitting plot device that is applied with a heavy hand. I don't regret reading it, but it certainly won't be a re-read.
Searing and traumatic read. An indictment of black lives in South Africa. Pays homage to the resilience of South African women. Captivating twist. I found the overall narrative moving.
3.5* loved the style of writing, the characters and the storyline but it faltered a bit towards the end. Would be curious to read other earlier work of this author