#Apartments in Soweto

[protoslacker]

He [Kissinger] didn’t study Africa. He went in with a very typical racism of the time, a contempt for all developing countries, and thought he could get an easy victory, which he needed after the collapse of South Vietnam.

Nancy Mitchell quoted in an article by Peter Beaumont in The Guardian. Kissinger at 100: How his ‘sordid’ diplomacy in Africa fuelled war in Angola and prolonged apartheid

Historians say the involvement in Africa of the former US secretary of state, who is 100 this week, drew the US into Angola’s war and aided apartheid after the Soweto uprising

_____

Nancy Mitchell is the author of Jimmy Carter in Africa: Race and the Cold War. Jimmy Carter participated in candid interviews with Mitchell for the book. In The Guardian article Beaumont circles in on Kissinger's "Eurocentric prism" distorting his picture of what was actually happening and preventing imaging better possible futures.

Angola is an episode in Koranteng's Toli's Things Fall Apart series writen in the spring of 2006. My mind was blown when I first read it and I still consider it one of the best pieces of Web writing ever. Around that time Teju Cole was publishing on his blog posts which were to become the basis for Everyday Is for the Theif. Howard French was also writing about Africa on his blog. French wrote the recetly published Born in Blackness: Africa, Africans, And the Making of the Modern World. Discovering different perspectives by way of blogs was invigorating for me.

Koranteng's piece "Angola" is a bit like The X Files, or a James Elroy novel. It's engaging and to one of the reasons to read it now is that it plays with that "Eurocentric prism" that botched Kissenger's vision. Perhaps it's really slightly updated prism one of Trump's advisors aptly called it, "We're America, bitch." Most of us in the USA use a lens like it often without realizing it.

My heart sank when hearing Biden responding to questions about his speech on Gaza and Ukraine say, "We're America." The foreign policy of the USA need not be as stupid and evil as it too often is. We must pick up the lenses that so distort our vision and set them aside so we can view through different lenses to gain better perspectives.

[lyonfamilyinafrica]

Final blog entry for trip

Well that’s the end of our African safari adventure.

Some stats and Q&A to wrap things up.

We drove a bit over 3,400 kilometres whilst in our 4WD hire car driving across two countries - Namibia and Botswana.

We visited 5 African countries (Namibia, Botswana, Zimbabwe, Zambia and South Africa) and saw the banks of another (Angola). We also visited Singapore for 3 nights on our way home.

We experienced temperatures ranging from -5.0 to 28 degrees in Africa.

We visited many reserves and the following National Parks:

Namib-Naukluft National Park

Etosha NP

Moremi NP

Chobe NP

Victoria Falls NP

We saw hundreds of different wildlife including the Big 5 - Lion, Leopard, African Buffalo, Rhinoceros (Black & White), Elephant.

A big thank you to our friends Greg & Jasmine for inspiring us to do this trip and providing an itinerary to follow and many chats and tips to make this trip possible. I think we would have been hesitant to book everything for the trip on our own without your guidance.

Thank you to my Mum Rhonda for looking after our little Lyon of the canine variety, Zoe, for the past month.

Q&A time.

Favourite location in Africa we visited & why:

Shanaugh- Third Bridge (Moremi NP), for the animals and fancy tented accommodation

Jarod - Moremi NP most wildlife

Max - Etosha (Okaukuejo) for animals at waterhole at night

Finlay - Etosha at the water hole because it was one of our first times seeing a lot of the animals and there was so many to watch

Favourite shower:

S - Mobola Island guesthouse

J - Kasane guesthouse

M - Mobola Island

F - Mobola island lodge

Funniest moment:

S - Pedalling on the 6 person cyclo to go across border from Zimbabwe to Zambia.

J - my Tame Impala joke every time I saw an Impala

M - When the Baboon was holding its willy. I thought it was a hot dog

F - pedalling on 6 person bike

When were you the most scared:

S - First night at Third Bridge as was first night in unfenced campsite

J - lion in camp

M - When Jarod farted in the car

F - when the lion walked past our camp and we all had to jump in the car

Best bargain:

S - Two loads of washing done and expertly folded for $10 - so worth it

J - a large painting, two wooden monkeys and a bracelet for $20

M - big hippo for free and apple for $1

F - ‘Free’ trip to Africa

Biggest rip off:

S - 50 Billion Zimbabwe dollar note for $2.50

J - Singapore sling for $39

M - nothing because Mum & Dad paid

F - nothing because Mum & Dad paid

Best tour guide:

S - Kay - Soweto tour

J - Greg

M - Mobola Island river tour and Khwai game drive tour guides

F - the guy at Mobola Island river tour

Favourite African animal:

S - Giraffe

J - Giraffe

M - Warthog

F - Elephants and all the baby animals especially the monkeys

Favourite meal:

S - South African shared meal or Otijiwa Lodge

J - Oryx (Gemsbok) from the restaurant at Otijiwa Lodge

M - Gemsbok steak at Joes Beerhouse Windhoek

F - either the fancy dinner at Otijiwa Lodge or the home cooked one at Victoria Falls

Favourite Spotify song from Africa playlist:

S - Africa by Toto of course

J - Africa by Toto

M - Pata Pata (about dance in Johannesburg)

F - Africa by Toto

Least Favourite part of trip:

S - Jarod’s farts in the car

J - South Africans

M - Dads farts

F - Dads Tame Impala jokes

3 things most looking forward to when home (apart from seeing Zoe):

S

My own space

Good bed mattress

Driving on smooth roads

J

Getting back to building outdoor room

Deer shooting in July

Yoghurt & protein powder for breaky

M

Riding bike with friends

Playing Forza on XBox

Listening to radio next to bed

F

Seeing friends

Knowing when can play soccer

My own bed

[innovativedesignstudio]

Innovative Design Studio - The Rise of Independent Furniture Retailers in South Africa

In the bustling landscape of South Africa's furniture industry, a vibrant community of independent retailers is making its mark. Among them, the Innovative Design Studio stands out as a beacon of creativity and craftsmanship. This article delves into the essence of independent furniture retailing in South Africa, with a focus on the innovative spirit driving the success of the Innovative Design Studio.

The Essence of Independent Furniture Retailing: Independent furniture retailers play a pivotal role in shaping the cultural and aesthetic landscape of a region. Unlike their larger counterparts, these businesses often operate on a smaller scale, allowing them to prioritize artisanal craftsmanship, unique designs, and personalized customer experiences. In South Africa, where diversity and creativity thrive, independent furniture retailers have carved a niche for themselves by offering distinctive pieces that reflect the nation's rich heritage and contemporary influences.

Innovative Design Studio: A Testament to Creativity: At the forefront of this movement is the Innovative Design Studio, a haven for those seeking furniture that transcends the ordinary. Founded by visionary designers, the studio is a melting pot of creativity, where traditional techniques meet avant-garde concepts. Each piece emanates a sense of individuality, meticulously crafted to merge form with function seamlessly.

Celebrating South African Heritage: One of the hallmarks of the Innovative Design Studio is its celebration of South African heritage. From the rugged landscapes of the Karoo to the vibrant streets of Soweto, the studio draws inspiration from the diverse tapestry of South African culture. Through its designs, it pays homage to indigenous materials, patterns, and motifs, infusing each piece with a sense of identity and belonging.

Embracing Sustainable Practices: In an era marked by environmental consciousness, the Innovative Design Studio is committed to sustainability. By sourcing materials responsibly and employing eco-friendly practices, the studio minimizes its environmental footprint while championing the cause of ethical consumption. This commitment to sustainability not only resonates with environmentally conscious consumers but also reflects the studio's dedication to leaving a positive impact on the planet.

A Personalized Approach to Customer Service: What sets the Innovative Design Studio apart is its personalized approach to customer service. Unlike mass-produced furniture stores, where shoppers are mere transactions, the studio fosters meaningful relationships with its clientele. Whether guiding them through the design process or offering tailored solutions to meet their needs, the team at the studio goes above and beyond to ensure customer satisfaction.

Fostering Creativity and Collaboration: In addition to its retail offerings, the Innovative Design Studio serves as a hub for creativity and collaboration. Through workshops, exhibitions, and design forums, it provides a platform for emerging talent to showcase their work and engage with like-minded individuals. By nurturing a community of designers, artisans, and enthusiasts, the studio contributes to the growth and vitality of South Africa's design scene.

Conclusion: As South Africa continues to evolve, its independent furniture retailers play an integral role in shaping the cultural landscape of the nation. Through their dedication to creativity, craftsmanship, and community, these businesses enrich the lives of their customers while preserving the essence of South African identity. In the case of the Innovative Design Studio, its unwavering commitment to innovation serves as a testament to the power of design to inspire, uplift, and transform.

[kahztiy]

Flash Memoir: YD6~06 Reporters Enticing SoWeTO's Black Youth To Revolt

Vitrine of Consciousness: Chapter 6

Subscribe + Comment = Editor, or, I'd like to know who reads my work: age group, gender, and your opinion in a sentence.

Here is The Story

I’m lying in the double bed in the guest room, fresh decor, bogged in my life adventures, and pondering while gazing through the small pane but large window, while white skies awakening. opening across Sunnyway, a Kelvin rooftop amid suburb’s trees’ canopies, a bird’s-eye view to Jean’s house with the boys. I lazed in bed, with an ear pricked. until footsteps arouse, from afar across the upper floor far west wing, the Knowles’ pass my door, evanescent downstairs. 

In a restless jump to my feet, I slip on a shirt and pants, stepping into shoes, toward the door, to crank the door lever pull and clear the passageway. Around the corner I descend the dogleg stairway, eyesight stumble to the east wing door. Crank the lever at my pace, swing the door. I crossed the television room to the kitchen, greeted the couple, Martin in the kitchen with Jessica, and their little boy at the kitchen table. From the offside percolator, I grab the coffee jug, pour myself a cup of coffee, exchanged a few greeting words while concerned about my endeavor. I excused a table’s dished eggs, tracking back to the hallway, stepping offside in the west wing. I head toward the bright daylight to my sunken office. Approaching the window grid to the mowed grass, pose my cup on the sill, and turned around, pace to face the flank of the room gleaming plastic bundled books, as delivery by the printer. 

Uncomfortable at proceeding with my endeavor, I heave a thick, clear plastic wrapped bundle of booklets from the stacked up corner. Embraced the bundle, step away up the two elongated slate treads, shun cross the bare slated floor kink my way offside to the hallway, unlatching the door. I step across the porch to sunlight. On the brick paved driveway apron, shifted the bundle of books to my left thigh, picked the trunk lock, tweaked the key, lifting the lid to pose in the shadowy trunk. The plentiful space spare, allot my niece, Tania, her bundle. I returned inside the house to fetch another bundle of books - smack - the trunk lid closed on the booklet’s without other perspective. I head back to my office. ‘_Can’t let coffee go to waste!_’ drink the cold coffee, looped through the kitchen, now deserted. I pose the cup on the sink, and head on a journey to merit the rewards of my venture, apart from clients’ dedicated line to my desk, enlightening the route to home renovation.

At a glance at my gold-plated wristwatch’s white crystal and a golden hour marker to spare, appeasing my steps away from the trunk. I picked the lock listening to the sight of the unlocking doors, to step inside, tweak the ignition key, the six pistons’ to the engine’s heavy breath, before awaking a purr. Slew a glance exercise my body’s wringing. The porch slips upfront, to the west wing and onto the garage doors to a hold. I uncoil in my seat, to toggle gears into drive, the gateway to sight, onto easing past veering on the dirt Roseway, riding the carriage to my destiny. Accentuated at a slow pace, the dirt street intersects Fairway. the car rocks through the gutter, leading to the asphalt, mapping in mind to fetch Tania and Paul.

I’m riding through mottled cool shades, the eucalyptus’ suburban remnant shed, and engaged on naked Old Pretoria Road. I’m cruising through the shadows of the Buccleuch interchange overpass, the east-western highway. For my delight, the right’s grassland returning wild grown eucalyptus to the wayside’s heavy trunks, joined by the left, to an acute reminiscence fee-wheeling the overseeing valley. In the tracks of the Voortrekkers’ ox wagons’ course, sweeping the hillsides across the Jukskei River’s weir. Lost in the countryside, another period higher stone-sculptured bridge, to slog pedaling the rolling siding from the deep valley. The Halfway House horses outpost, messengers’ horse changes remnants to a short-lived steep eased ledge. After a break, the straggling eucalyptus from the treacherous grassland’s wave, the town’s retailers shifted to the successive plateau. Herds of eucalyptuses returned wayside to the parent trees, to the rollover hill crest, on a clear day, to sight Pretoria’s Voortrekker monument. ‘/Yesterday, when I was young / The taste of life was sweet like rain upon my tongue / I teased at life as if it were a foolish game. . ./’ 

Oblivious to the sweat dried on my skin, as the Mercedes hood’s circled star’s 3 points sweeps to the side street, under the asphalt, to my regret the dirt road — Uncle Beux and Aunt Carla’s house and poultry shed on the small agricultural holdings. Which vanished, ghosting amid the surreal. The mountain sliced spearheading the highway, toward the Hillbrow Television Tower. the flare’s lanes through the intersection herd abundant automakers’ thriving showrooms. Tapered upfront, eager to hold on to my fourteenish’s driving the farm’s Volkswagen panel van, through grasslands sprinkled by small holdings fetching eggs to bringing home for distribution. 

Up comes Ilona’s property to sight, asphalt paved raised from the bed of the ancient dirt road I’ve learned to know through grasslands, and short of spotted the next door thatched roof house to plum hue brick gatepost. I steered the Mercedes coasting down the steep ramp toward leading tracks through the grassland, hissing the undercarriage, approaching the white brick gable wall to the saddled tiled roof running further toward the rear. I turned to the driveway dirt apron to halt short of the juxtaposed triple carport, gazing through cottage windows into the interior’s shadows for figures’ motion. When a figure in the distant porch’s shadows surges, Tania's peppy gait approaching under the tiled eave, her brother Paul, lagging in their approach under the vine’s foliage laden wooden pergola. She turns at the gum pole railing to the terrace, descends into sunlight, to the crazy-slate front yard path to round the car. The door swings. Tania steps inside, closing the door, while Paul steps in behind his sister in an exchange of brief greetings.

With the closing door, I gazed past Paul, reversing the car to the extended driveway apron to halt, toggle the gears to drive. We crawl away, rotating to face the beaten tracks, cutting the golden savanna property in halves. The undercarriage hiss cruising, approaching pillar’s ramped up gateway, turning into the street. In silence, accelerating along the low wire meshed fence, continuant of my earlier course. Around the block to a small holding, shielded hedgerow tight knitted and high foliage swells. Opposing a barbed wire fence to grassland, we pulled up at the junction — Unimaginable Mrs. Noble, while a post office clerk, also a storekeeper, to the adjacent whitewashed brick shacks. From a Boer storekeeper to an Indian family. An absent mechanic and pump attendant, at a pair of gas pumps on a concrete, crumbling driveway. in front of a workshop’s somber mucky thick dust window panes — Aberrant, the alternation didn’t elicit a wink from either sibling, as a translucent red and white iconic Spar spur dominates Crowthorne’s corner.

I’m steering the Mercedes turned from the Stop sign, the broadened country road — so acute morphed during years, since Igor and I cycled at first light, the first hillside wave, me to a construction site, he to school, in Pretoria. At dusk, the last leg home — White lane marking doubled, crawl the corner. Facing the roadway, swag across the culvert, propelled on our bikes toward the road fork. Freewheeled through the bend at the crotch of a triangulated grass traffic island. Beyond the corner house’s orchard, the gritty driveway apron welcomed us home. To cross the clanging cattle guard, to honoring rows of wide skirted conifers, lining the peaches and plumes orchards. Clearing the squatted white plastered walls capped by the orange ridges and valleys tiled roof, to a sweep driveway broadening to end to the double garage. 

Tania and Paul didn’t spare a squint passing the driveway to the neglected house on plot 8 in Kyalami, siblings’ curiosity of parents’ teen exhausted. as I’m driving my Mercedes sitting back, my heart crying the arid property, to gaze at the leading Bryanston road with a bird’s-eye view toward the converging Western Bypass highway. We passed the Leeuwkop Prison gates; the roadway ditching the steep sidings across the Jukskei River to raise and crest. Across the intersection, to the Fourways hillside ledge to a workshop filling station outpost, the road rises farther. deviated since cycling on the road, threads our way into the subway, and out crest where the Bryanston suburbs and Randburg meet at either side of the roadway, where we’ll meet the access ramps to the Western Bypass highway.

When we pulled up, into the Rand Easter Trade Show’s gateway, the parking lot asphalt with its making lay bare but a few cars, and stalled near the entrance, to a simultaneous opening of doors, to rise tall by the car - smack, smack, smack - with Tania and Paul, congregating at the Mercedes’ trunk. I raised the lid hand duck, ripping the plastic wrap, handing back to Tania and Paul a stack of ten booklets. I lowered the trunk led, to catch up with the distancing siblings, for the doorway. It dawns on me, privilege by the customer attendant’s words, left me weird without an official document. We crossed the threshold, to a corner booth’s elegant and youthful men and women on standby at the crotch of branching aisles. We hesitated. Tania nods right and heads off with Paul. I dare ease from an invisible state, step deeper in a channel margin by rows of booths. Without a niche to stand exposed, I’m turning shoulders from the men and women attendants to trade booths, my back to the diving partition nib. Ignored by the attendants, I eased, facing the entrance’s framing a penetrating glow.

From the bright light, shadows arise, morphing to silhouettes. My eyesight on a steeplechase of approaching figures colors clothing. I’m stepping away from the edge. In the open, facing one after the other man, I trot with a leading booklet, saying. “All you need to know about home improvement — Four Rand fifty.” White people trickle the passageway, each person ditching eyes, tears, a timid rejection, shunt off course. A black man walks up, while repeating my slogan. The man’s hand digs into his back pocket. He returns a fiver, in exchange for a booklet.

My fingers fumble my hip pocket to say, “_’Holly sh-t_’ — I have no change!”

The black man says. “Keep it.” Sauntering away.

I run woozy eyesight, guilt stricken, after the black man. ‘_Can’t we make some arrangement? — That’s a folly_’. My heart sinks over the stupidity, returning to grip a crowd streaming out the glowing sunlight, a few people splashing curious eyes on the bright cover, but the flow shaping me, drudging a handout, I step away into the upcoming crowds, in unison with Tania, coming from the blind corner, drained eyes, Paul trailing her. We turned away through a crowd of figures breaching light, we emerged to a glittering parking lot.

In harmony, we paced up to the orange Mercedes. Approaching the trunk, motioned to relieve Tania and Paul’s hands from the stacked books, returning mine in the trunk, feeling. ‘_This is not the place to distribute booklets_.’ Tania and Paul amble around the rear fender as I slam the trunk lid close, heading toward the other flank. The sighs pop up the door sill buttons, in unison ease to our seats. As I’m pulling my doors behind, with a glance at Tania, her gaze expressed my thought. ‘_Where to now_’ To say. “Let’s call it a day.” I tweak the ignition key, pulling away toward the gateway, ashamed for them believing in my enterprise.

[ketso]

Episode 19

I like our new apartment. It's a two-bedroom spacious apartment, but it's fancier than the rooms we used to live in when we were living in Soweto. I can just see that Keith is struggling! He's used to big spaces. He is used to the mansion he stayed in with his wife. He barely enjoyed the three-bedroom simplex we've just moved from. He only drives SUV vehicles. I'd like to console him that our situation is not all that bad. But I honestly cannot relate to his discomfort.

Our bedroom is HUGE. He sleeps on the sleeper couch we have in the room. I sleep with Risuna on the main bed. The other room is Risuna's bedroom and it is full of his toys and things. Keith bought him so many things that we didn’t have space to put a bed in there for him to sleep in.

The TV room is his study, just with the TV.

I've heard him frustrated that he's losing business. Apparently, he used to get most of his clients from his wife's father because he is in government. I guess this is the many ways that his wife will make him pay for their divorce.

"Hey", I greet him as I make my way to the kitchen via the TV room.

"Ey", him.

He looks stressed.

"Ushup?" I ask him.

My son is taking a nap.

"I've lost another client. At this rate, I'm going to have to shut down operations and either start something else or simply get a job", he says.

I go sit next to him.

He's staring at his laptop and he looks like he's about to cry.

"Keith", me.

He looks at me.

"We need to be realistic about our situation. I need to find a job and help you. And I'm prepared to do that. Wandi and her mom say they have work for me at the church and I could earn enough to pay our rent here and get some groceries. You will have to think about getting a job as well. Your business was tied to your marriage and unfortunately, if you are letting go of your marriage, you will need to let go your business. I know you love your business and it's your baby. But there are strings attached... strings you want to cut."

Now he cries.

I pull him into a hug.

"I worked so hard on this company. I haven't been an employee for years. What position am I even going to apply for?" He says through his sobs.

"I don't know, Keith. But you will have to think of something. And maybe, we could get a smaller car - if we even need one at all", I say.

Now he comes out of my arms and stares at me like I'm crazy.

"Can we afford that car?" I ask.

"It's paid up", he says.

"And its maintenance?" Me.

He falls back into my arms and cries again.

"Keith", me.

"I have some savings, Bassie. But I need to move them to your name. That's what my lawyer says. Or else, I'll have to give some to her. We are splitting everything that we've accumulated together in the marriage. So, I'll get quite a good settlement from that. It will be enough to send Risuna to creche for two years minimum. I'll trade the car in for something more economic." He says.

"And I'm going to take the job at the church", me.

He nods his head.

"Keith, we are going to be okay", I say.

"Are we?" Him. He sounds so hopeless.

"Remember when you were in third year in varsity? I was in grade ten at the time. You phoned me and told me your parents hadn't paid for your res and you were on the verge of being kicked out?" Me.

He laughs then says, "Yeah. And you'd come by after school to give me a lunchbox of food because the dining hall didn't let me eat from there anymore."

"Then the day came when you came back from lectures and your room was locked. It wouldn't be unlocked until you paid your fees. You thought the whole world was over", I say.

"Only for me to phone you later. You convinced me to break into a house that was on the market and was being sold", he says.

We both laugh.

"But I brought food and blankets."

Now we look each other in the eye.

"And we made love", he says.

"I lost my virginity that day. And I had no regrets because I was losing it to someone I trusted more than anyone in life and I knew you'd always be in my life." I say.

He looks at me with dreamy eyes.

"Then your mom phoned and said it was sorted. Just like that, the situation came to pass. Just like this one... it's come and it's here now. But it will pass. O tlo bona", I say to distract him from the sex part.

But he unbuttons my shirt.

I look at him.

I climb on top of him.

I rip his shirt open.

We kiss.

He carries me to the floor, thank God for our fluffy carpet.

We stare at each other.

I pull him closer to me.

We finally do the dance!

We are lying on the floor drunk on this moment and the sex that we've just had. We keep stealing looks at each other then laughing. I feel more and more in love with him. I cannot imagine Risuna having a better father. Truly.

"You know, I still have the ten million rands that you and Noria gave me to exit our agreement regarding our baby", I say as we lie on the floor.

"I'm really ashamed of how we treated you. I'm really sorry, Basetsana", he says.

I'm really not interested in this at the moment.

"If you need a financial boost to start something for yourself, we have the capital", I say.

He looks at me, faces his whole body towards me and says, "thank you. Truly, thank you so much, Bassie."

I smile at him, facing my whole body towards him too.

"Maybe I should get a job though. The business was always Noria's baby. I just sat in the CEO chair. But it's not my thing. She just never wanted to date an employee so she "made me." Besides, to open a business would be risky for me. Her family pretty much owns Johannesburg. They will block me and plot my failure before I even start".

He sees how disturbed I am by this.

"But keep it safe and hidden somewhere. We will need it after my divorce is final. She wants everything. I even had to put this apartment in your name so she wouldn't touch it." He says.

I brush his face.

His eyes are so beautiful.

"You have Risuna. And you have me. You are not losing everything", I say.

"You promise that I won't lose you guys?" He sounds so...

I kiss him. He starts touching me all over the place.

"I promise", I say between our kisses.

"So... you and me..." Him.

"So... you and me..." me.

"I want us to be forever. I want us to be together. Like this. Forever." He says.

"I've wanted that since we were teenagers", I say.

"Why didn't you tell me? You could've saved us both a lot of heart break and drama."

"I didn’t know that you wanted it too."

"I did. But I always thought you were too good for me... that you'd find someone better than me and someone who is more deserving of you than me."

"Like who?" Me.

"I don't know", him.

He genuinely sounds sad.

"There's never been anyone, Keith. It's always been you. Always. I'd pray for you. I'd pray about you. I'd always blush when people called me your girlfriend. I'd get butterflies in my stomach every time someone would say that you and I would get married. Then you left... and you chose her... and you cut me off... you really hurt me."

"I'm sorry. I wish I knew."

"Knew what?"

"That you loved me so much."

"You did know. I never hid it from you. How else do you explain me giving you a baby? I'd never do that for anyone else."

He kisses me, climbing on top of me again. I smile at him.

"I love you. I always have and I always will", he tells me.

I smile.

We have another steamy session of love making.

...

I'm having lunch with my lawyer. We've just come back from court and my divorce is finalized. Bassie is at work. I texted her and told her how it went. She phoned me and we chatted for a bit. Noria took everything. EVERYTHING. Bassie told me not to fight it. She told me that Noria would want to make things difficult, so I must just agree to everything. We will be okay. So, I let her take everything. I couldn't even afford to pay my lawyer or for this lunch. Fortunately, I have Bassie's card with the ten million rands that Noria sent to her to stay out of our lives. Bassie gave it to me this morning and told me to use it how I see fit. I paid my lawyer fees and I'm paying for this lunch.

I haven't spoken to my brothers in a minute. I know I'm going to need to do so soon because I need a job. They are connected and hopefully they can make a plan for me. Noria and her family black-balled me across South Africa. And I don't feel great living off Bassie. She makes good money at the church and she says she doesn't mind. But I'm not for this at all. That Senzi guy offered me a job at that church. I need to understand what kind of church this is. They are offering me a very healthy salary. How do they make that kind of money off tithing?

Bassie says that I should take the job. It's a finance role. Bassie is the receptionist at this place and our son attends creche there. Even the creche is fancy.

After the lunch with my lawyer, I head into my car. I take one last long drive in my Jeep. At around 3pm, I drive to Audi. I do the one thing that I've been dreading this whole time. I have to let my car go and get something affordable. After negotiations and chatting, I'm able to buy Bassie an Audi A1 four-door vehicle. Then I get myself the A4. It's one hell of a downgrade, but you know what, this is not permanent. This is a promise that I'm making to my son, to my girlfriend and to myself. This WILL pass. This is not the end for me. It's not. I'll start off by taking the job that Senzi is offering me. Then I'll work my way to doing my own thing again. But we need to get a bigger place. That two bedroom that Bassie, my son and I are stuck in is driving me crazy.

6pm.

Bassie and Risuna just got home.

"Hey", she says.

I kiss her, take her bags and Risuna from her then I greet her back.

"You alright?" She asks me.

"Yeah, I'm good. How are you? How was your day?" I ask her.

"It was okay. I'm just tired and my feet hurt." I say.

"Well, I've cooked dinner. So, I can give you a foot massage before we eat", I say.

She smiles at me.

"But I want to show you something first", I say.

"Okay", she says, giggling as if she doesn't trust me.

I hold her hand and pull her to outside where I've parked her car.

She screams and runs around the car. My son is screaming too, but I doubt he knows what he's screaming for. I'm just laughing at her reaction. It's the highlight of my day actually.

Now she jumps up and down then hugs me.

I show her my A4 as well. She says it's nice but is not as excited as seeing her car. Trading in the Jeep definitely feels worth it.

I'm rubbing her feet now. She says she doesn't feel hungry. Risuna is on her boob minding his own business.

"Are you okay? You know... after today?" She asks me.

"I'm relieved. It was just ugly. She left me with nothing." I say.

"You have us. We will build again. Together. We don't want her things to be our foundation", she says.

"I feel like I'm failing you guys. I feel like I'm not providing for you and Risuna", I tell her.

“Look Keith, I don’t know what kind of relationship you had with Noria. But I believe that providing for this family is my responsibility as much as it is your responsibility. And this is life. Everything is seasonal and nothing is forever. Sometimes, it will fall on me to look after us. Sometimes, it will fall on you. The important thing is that we have a common goal. That goal is success for our family. So, I’m not in your life to change you, put pressure on you, drive you to suicide or be your first born responsibility. I’m your partner. You come to me as much as I come to you. We put our heads together and we figure it out. That’s it.”

I actually get emotional.

She smiles at me.

“We are going to be fine. We don’t need mansions and cars with names I cannot pronounce to be okay. We could live in a shack and it would still be home for me. As long as I have you and our son”, she says.

“You mean that?”

“I do”.

Wow!

I lean in and kiss her.

The little man slaps me.

Oh, I’m interfering with his boob time.

“Sorry”, I say to him.

Bassie laughs at us.

“I spoke to Senzi. I’ll be taking the job.” I tell her.

“Congratulations!” She says.

I smile at her.

“See? We are going to be great”, she says.

“Yeah. But we need to get out of here. This place is too small.” I say.

“Oh Keith… you and big assets. Big house. Big car. Big career with a big title”. She says and laughs.

I giggle.

“Have you seen a place you like?” She asks me.

“There are four-bedroom duplexes that are not too far from here. And they are affordable. If we buy it cash, it will be about R2.5million.” I say.

She gives me a blank stare.

“What?” I ask her.

“You just spent R1.8 million paying your lawyer. Now you want to spend that kind of money on a place to stay. Keith, we need a rainy-day fund and some money to put away for Risuna’s education. We can’t just blow through that money and have no other plan outside of our jobs”. She says.

“I know. We will put R5 million away. We will even take it to a bank and put in a trust for Risuna. But we can use some of it to just start ourselves out. Then we can invest a bit of it as well, so we have something else tied to our assets.”

She shakes her head at me.

“Bassie -

“You are not married to Noria anymore. Money doesn’t just flow in here like milk and honey. You need to be less reckless on your spending or we will find ourselves broke or without savings.” She aggressively says. She even removes her feet off my lap. She’s pissed.

Ja… I need this job. We can’t fight about money like this. And I’m not prepared to live in a two-bedroom flat for too long.

It’s my first day at work today. Bassie is kind of still not talking to me. I’m getting ready for work. I can hear her fight with Risuna as well. I think she’s trying to feed him and he’s just trying to sleep.

She comes into the bedroom, looks at me, then finishes up getting ready.

“I’m sorry, Basetsana. I agree with you. We should spend more responsibly”, I say.

She takes a deep breath then says, “I’m also sorry. I didn’t have to speak to you that way or bring Noria up in an argument.”

“It’s okay. It’s a reality that I needed to hear.”

She nods her head then says, “You look nice. And you smell nice. Those church girls will be all over you.”

I laugh and say, “Well, I’m taken.”

“Do you think they care? That’s just motivation for them to just come on stronger. And rumour has it - by all the men they’ve been with at the church - that they are freaks”. She says.

I’m honestly in stitches. I can’t believe she’s jealous. But she’s cute.

“Are they bigger freaks than you?” Me.

Now she blushes.

I laugh at her. She giggles.

“Just promise me that I won’t lose you to them.” She says.

“You won’t lose me to anyone. I promise”, I tell her. Then I kiss her.

“We can get that place you were talking about”, she says.

“Really?” I’m actually shocked.

“Yeah. Risuna is growing up and he needs to get out of our bed soon. I doubt either three of us want to end up sleeping in the TV room. We do need the space”, she says.

I smile at her.

“But no luxury spending for the next few years. Please”, she says.

I kiss her. She’s the best!

We drive in one car to work. We are all headed to one place anyway. We first drop the little man off at school, then we head to the office.

Bassie settles at her desk at reception. Senzi meets me downstairs then he shows me to my office. Yep, I have an office. A very nice office. This place looks nothing like a church, a church business or a church building. It’s very far from being humble.

I meet a group of guys who I’m now learning are Sbu, NTK, Jake and Miles. They are actually funny.

“So around here, we either chill in Senzi’s office or Miles’ office. Now that we got you in an office too, we chill in yours too. The rest of us sit in an open plan”, one of the guys say.

“You just had to be the coffee that these women like, didn’t you? Strong, dark and handsome… and fucken tall. As our chances decrease!” Another says and we all laugh.

This is actually nice. When I was a CEO, no one interacted with me like this. I’d be jealous of these kinds of conversations when I’d walk past them. And when I walked passed them, people would just be quiet.

“We hear you are in there with Bassie? How did you do it? That girl gives no one a chance and she isn’t even nice about it”, this one is probably going to annoy me the most.

“Bassie is the mother of his child. So shut up”, Senzi.

“Is she a crazy baby-mama?” The annoying one.

“She’s my woman. And maybe we can start talking about her with some respect around here”, I’m not even laughing as I say this. They all see that I’m not joking about this.

They all actually leave my office.

Good!

“Mr N”, I hear a female voice say to me.

Who’s this?

“Yes?”

“I’m Charity. I’m the assistant choir lead”, she says.

That’s actually a job around here? I wonder what her payslip looks like.

“Okay”, me.

“I thought I’d come say hi. Maybe show you around if you have some time?” She says.

This is probably one of those church girls that Bassie warned me about.

“No thanks. My girlfriend, Bassie, will show me around when she and I get a minute.” I say.

She seems disappointed.

“Bassie? As in the receptionist?” She says with disgust.

“Yes”, I say.

She just stares at me. What kind of working place is this?!

She storms out of my office and slams the door. It’s glass by the way. Ja neh, I need a reminder that I’m here for my family. So, the first thing I put on my desk is a digital frame that slide shows my girlfriend, my son, my mother, my brothers, my nieces and my nephews.

[theunderestimator-2]

French visionary/ singer/ poet Lizzy Mercier Descloux captured by Michael Esteban in Patti Smith’s NY apartment back in 1975.

Though to some she may appear to have been nothing more than a footnote to the careers of icons like Patti Smith, Richard Hell & Chet Baker, that audacious artist and devotee of Rimbaud & Godard was an innovator who witnessed numerous pivotal moments in musical and cultural history upon her arrival in New York, at a time when the city was becoming a melting pot for various  late-’70s subcultures, such as American Punk and No Wave.

An archetypal outsider feeling suffocated in her working class family environment in France, she decided to drop out of Art School and follow her partner Michael Esteban to New York in the mid-’70s, witnessing the birth of punk and no wave with the Ramones, James Chance and Patti Smith. She always stood out from the crowd: she started a punk zine with her partner, who co-founded ZE Records, befriended Patti Smith who shared a mutual love for Rimbaud, became a muse for Richard Hell, released poetry books, appeared in Amos Poe’s documentary ‘Blank Generation’, made five albums in various no wave/ bouncing pre-Talking Heads post-disco/ Soweto jive/ loose jazz styles and marked herself out as a globe-trotter with more passport stamps than Tintin, living and travelling all around the world from the Bahamas & Rio De Janeiro to South Africa & Corsica, where she died in relative obscurity in 2004 from cancer.

(via, via, via via & via)

[africanfemalearchitects]

Linda Mvusi (c. 1955 in Bloemfontein- ) is an actress and architect. Mvusi took an award for best actress at the 1988 Cannes Film Festival for her role in the film A World Apart which was directed by Chris Menges. Mvusi was the first South African to get a best Actress award at Cannes.

Mvusi also shared in an award for excellence for her architecture on the Apartheid Museum. She practices with her own company in South Africa.

Ms Linda Mvusi holds a B.Sc Design (Hons) 1980 degree and Frank Lloyd Wright Prize for Best Design from Kwame Nkrumah University of Science and Technology, and a postgraduate B.Architecture 1984 degree from UK’s Newcastle-upon-Tyne University.

Ms Mvusi who has been in architectural practice for 41 years - 34 years of her own architecture & design firm - left South Africa aged 5 years with her family for 32 years of Exile living, schooling and working in central, west, east and southern Africa, as well as Europe and USA.

Internationally, her design portfolio consists of a full range of architecture, urban design, and alongside 5 years film and television production, distribution and exhibition following the Cannes Film Festival Best Actress award, includes heritage and culture animation and project management at scale.

Her first projects were hotels (Pamodzi and Intercontinental, Lusaka, Zambia), thereafter designing government and corporate offices, schools and hospitals, laboratories and factories, prisons, interrogation and high security facilities in central Africa.

Employed by Greater London City Council’s Women’s Design Service 1984-5, Ms Mvusi designed women’s shelters, libraries, crèches, rape crisis safe homes, cultural centres for Brixton Black Women and Turkish Women and also design thinking parks, streets and public transportation for differently-abled and hitherto marginalised.

Returning to South Africa in 1992, and eschewing private residential commissions - (President Nelson Mandela’s Houghton Johannesburg house is her sole exception) - Linda Mvusi focussed on designing ‘space and place making for Freedom to happen’, beginning in 1992 with 9 Soweto Railway Stations (1992), followed by architecture and urban design double commission for Africa’s largest train|multimodal transportation hub, Johannesburg’s 16 block Park Station (1993- 95).

Urban design projects include Joburg’s inner city Newtown Cultural Precinct and Tirisano Urban Village now named ‘Brickfields’, Sandton-Alice Drive Land Assembly for Malaysian clients, and Fort West Urban Village in Pretoria.

The Apartheid Museum

[caveignoscas]

List of books from all around the globe

In alphabetical order according to the Polish names of the countries.

my instagram: viveinlanguages

my storygraph: caveignoscas

AFRICA

· Water: New Short Story Fiction from Africa: An Anthology - Short Story Day Africa

Algeria

· The Sexual Life of an Islamist in Paris - Leila Marouane

· The Earthquake - Tahar Wattar

· The Star of Algiers - Aziz Chouaki

· The Obstinate Snail - Rachid Boudjedra

· Tomboy - Nina Bouraoui

· The Tongue’s Blood Does Not Run Dry - Assia Djebar

· Do You Hear in the Mountains and other stories - Maïssa Bey

· What the Day Owes the Night - Yasmina Khadra

· The Meursault Investigation - Kamel Daoud

Angola

· The Return - Dulce Maria Cardoso

Benin

· Gen - Agnes Agboton

Botswana

· Maru - Bessie Head

Burkina Faso

· Freedom of the City, being a woman in Burkina Faso - Monique Ilboudo

Burundi

· Baho! - Roland Rugero

· Weep Not, Refugee - Marie-Therese Toyi

Chad

· On the Winds of the Hazards of Life - Salma Khalil Alio

Democratic Republic of Congo

· The Girl with Seven Names - Hyeonseo Lee

· How Dare the Sun Rise - Sandra Uwiringiyimana

Djibuti

· Les Enfants du Khat - Mouna-Hodan Ahmed

Egypt

· Woman at Point Zero - Nawal el Saadawi

· The Queue - Basma Abdel Aziz

· The Hidden Face of Eve - Nawal el Saadawi

· Blue Aubergine - Miral al-Tahawy

Eritrea

· My Fathers’ Daughter - Hannah Pool

Eswatini

· Weeding the Flowerbeds - Sarah Mkhonza

Ethiopia

· The Shadow King - Maaza Mengiste

Gabon

· The Moonlight Tales - Edna Merey-Apinda

The Gambia

· Stories from the Gambia - Sally Sadie Singhateh

Ghana

· Droga do domu - Yaa Gyasi

· Changes: A Love Story - Ama Ata Aidoo

Guinea

· Humiliated Women - Koumanthio Zeinab Diallo

Guinea Bissau

· In Which Language to Write - Odete Semedo

Equatorial Guinea

· La Bastarda - Trifonia Melibea Obono

Cameroon

· Behold the Dreamers - Imbolo Mbue

Kenya

· Dust - Yvonne Adhiambo Owuor

· Petals of Blood - Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o

Comoros

· Le Journal de Maya - Coralie Frei

Republic of Congo

· The Lights of Pointe-Noire - Alain Mabanckou

· Two Poems - Marie-Leontine Tsibinda

· Tomorrow I'll Be Twenty - Alain Mabanckou

Lesotho

· Singing Away the Hunger - Mpho ‘M’atsepo Nthunya

Liberia

· The House at Sugar Beach - Helene Cooper

Libya

· Melting Sun - Laila Neihoum

· The Slave Yards - Najwa Bin Shatwan

Madagascar

· One Times Two - Cyprienne Toazara

Malawi

· I Still Miss Him - Walije Gondwe

Mali

· Poèmusiques - Fatoumata Keita

Morocco

· The Happy Marriage - Tahar Ben Jelloun

· Whitefly - Abdelilah Hamdouchi

· The Curious Case of Dassoukine’s Trousers - Fouad Laroui

· Lullaby - Leila Slimani

· Sex and Lies - Leila Slimani

· The Year of the Elephant - Leila Abouzeid

· The Moor's Account - Laila Lalami

Mauritania

· Poetry and I - Mbarka Mint al-Barra

Mauritius

· Eve Out of Her Ruins - Ananda Devi

Mozambique

· The First Wife - Paulina Chiziane

Namibia

· The Purple Violet of Oshaantu - Neshani Andreas

Niger

· Le Déserteur - Hélène Kaziende

Nigeria

· And After Many Days - Jowhor Ile

· Blackass - A. Igoni Barrett

· The Face: Cartography of the Void - Chris Abani

· Things Fall Apart - Chinua Achebe

· What Is Not Yours In Not Yours - Helen Oyeyemi

· Collected Poems - Gabriel Okara

· Born on a Tuesday - Elnathan John

· Purple Hibiscus - Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

· Akata Witch - Nnedi Okorafor

· Half of a Yellow Sun - Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

· Stay with Me - Ayobami Adebayo

· The Opposite House - Helen Oyeyemi

· Walking with Shadows - Jude Dibia

· Under the Udala Trees - Chinelo Okparanta

· The Secret Lives of Baba Segi's Wives - Lola Shoneyin

· Foreign Gods, Inc - Okey Ndibe

· Butterfly Fish - Irenosen Okojie

· Like A Mule Bringing Ice-Cream to the Sun - Sarah Ladipo Manyinka

· Love is Power Or Something Like That - A. Igoni Barrett

· The Mad House - TJ Benson

South Africa

· Rachel’s Blue - Zakes Mda

· Tales of the Metric System - Imraan Coovadia

· The Reactive - Masande Ntshanga

· Soweto Stories - Miriam Tlali

· Disgrace - John Maxwell Coetzee

· London Cape Town Joburg - Zukiswa Wanner

· The Fatuous State of Severity - Phumlani Pikoli

· Azanian Bridges - Nick Wood

· Taty Went West - Nikhil Singh

Cantral African Republic

· The Magic Doll - Adrienne Yabouza

Cabo Verde

· The Madwoman of Serrano - Dina Salustio

Rwanda

· The Barefoot Woman - Scholastique Mukasonga

· Our Lady of the Nile - Scholastique Mukasonga

Senegal

· Kaveena - Boubacar Boris Diop

· Ladivine - Marie NDiaye

· So Long a Letter - Mariama Ba

· The Cheffe: A Cook’s Novel - Marie Ndiaye

Seychelles

· Labour of Love - Marie Flora Ben David Nourrice

Sierra Leone

· The Memory of Love - Aminatta Forna

Somalia

· Infidel - Ayaan Hirsi Ali

· Adua - Igiaba Scego

Sudan

· The Kindness of Enemies - Leila Aboulela

· Elsewhere Home - Leila Aboulela

South Sudan

· Withered Flowers - Stella Gitano

Tanzania

· Things Were Lost in Our Vaginas - Nyachiro Lydia Kasese

Togo

· Do They Hear You When You Cry - Fauziya Kassindja & Layli Miller Bashir

Tunisia

· Time’s Running Out for Scheherezade - Fawzia Zouari

· The Ardent Swarm - Yamen Manai

Uganda

· 100 Days - Juliane Okot Bitek

· Kintu - Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi

Cote d'Ivoire

· Aya de Yopougon - Marguerite Abouet & Clement Oubrerie

Sao Tome and Principe

· Petty Tyrants - Conceição Lima

Zambia

· The Old Drift - Namwali Serpell

Zimbabwe

· The Book of Memory - Petina Gappah

· The Maestro, the Magistrate & the Mathematician - Tendai Huchu

· Nervous Conditions - Tsitsi Dangarembga

· The Hairdresser of Harare - Tendai Huchu

SOUTH AMERICA

Argentina

· Exquisite Corpse - Agustina Bazterrica

· Little Eyes - Samanta Schweblin

· Comemadre - Roque Larraquy

· The Aleph - Jorge Luis Borges

· The German Room - Carla Maliandi

· The Wind That Lays Waste - Selva Almada

· Feebleminded - Ariana Harwicz

· The Wind that Lays Waste - Selva Almada

· Die, My Love - Ariana Harwicz

· 77 - Guillermo Saccomanno

· Hopscotch - Julio Cortázar

· Things We Lost in the Fire - Mariana Enriquez

Bolivia

· Our Dead World - Liliana Colanzi

Brazil

· The Collector of Leftover Souls: Field Notes on Brazil’s Everyday Insurrections - Eliane Brum

· Conectadas - Clara Alves

· Agua Viva - Clarice Lispector

· Stubborn Archivist - Yara Rodrigues Fowler

· The Passion According to G.H. - Clarice Lispector

· Gabriela, Clove and Cinnamon - Jorge Amado

· Nowhere People - Paulo Scott

Chile

· A Long Petal of the Sea - Isabel Allende

· Space Invaders - Nona Fernandez

· Seeing Red - Lina Meruane

Equador

· Cockfight - Maria Fernanda Ampuero

Guyana

· Shame on Me: An Anatomy of Race and Belonging - Tessa McWatt

Colombia

· Miłość w czasach zarazy - Gabriel Garcia Marquez

· The Bitch - Pilar Quintana

· Fish Soup - Margarita Garcia Robayo

Paraguay

· Our Father is Tired - Susy Delgado

Peru

· The Bad Girl - Mario Vargas Llosa

· Letters to a Young Novelist - Mario Vargas Llosa

· Sexographies - Gabriela Wiener

Suriname

· The Cost of Sugar - Cynthia McLeod

Uruguay

· Cantoras - Carolina de Robertis

· A Dream Come True - Juan Carlos Onetti

Venezuela

· Southpaw - Lisa St Aubin de Teran

· It Would Be Night in Caracas - Karina Sainz Borgo

NORTH AMERICA

Antigua and Barbuda

· Annie John - Jamaica Kincaid

Bahamas

· Back to Life - Wendy Coakley Thompson

Barbados

· Redemption in Indigo - Karen Lord

Belize

· Time and River - Zee Edgell

Dominica

· Wide Sargasso Sea - Jean Rhys

Dominicana

· In the Time of the Butterflies - Julia Alvarez

· Tentacle - Rita Indiana

· The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao - Junot Diaz

Grenada

· Lady in a Boat - Merle Collins

Guatemala

· Knitting the Fog - Claudia D. Hernandez

Haiti

· Love, Anger, Madness - Marie Vieux-Chauvet

· Kraj bez kapelusza - Dany LaFerrière

· Niedziela, 4 stycznia - Lyonel Trouillot

Honduras

· Nobody Wanted Me - Soledad Castillo

Jamaica

· The True History of Paradise - Margaret Cezair-Thompson

· Amiable with Big Teeth - Claude McKay

· The Book of Night Women - Marlon James

Canada

· Small Beauty - jia qing wilson-yang

· Oryx and Crake - Margaret Atwood

Costa Rica

· From Where The Voice Is Born - Carmen Naranjo

Cuba

· Revolution Sunday - Wendy Guerra

· Havana Year Zero - Karla Suarez

Mexico

· Hurricane Season - Fernanda Melchor

· Tell Me How It Ends: An Essay in Forty Questions - Valeria Luiselii

· The Iliac Crest - Cristina Rivera Garza

· Umami - Laia Jufresa

Nicaragua

· The Country Under My Skin - Gioconda Belli

Panama

· The Book of Unknown Americans - Cristina Henriquez

Saint Kitts and Nevis

· As Good as Gold - Kathryn Bertine

Saint Lucia

· History Shelves - Sassy Ross

Saint Vincent and Grenadines

· Journal of a Superfluous Woman - I.R. King

El Salvador

· Luisa in Realityland - Claribel Alegria

US

· Freedom Is a Constant Struggle: Ferguson, Palestine, and the Foundations of a Movement - Angela Y. Davis

Trinidad and Tobago

· Crick Crack Monkey - Merle Hodge

ASIA

Afghanistan

· Raising My Voice - Malalai Joya

· The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini

· And The Mountains Echoed - Khaled Hosseini

Saudi Arabia

· Sarab - Raja Alem

· Girls of Riyadh - Rajaa Alsanea

Armenia

· My Grandmother: A Memoir - Fethiye Cetin

Azerbaijan

· Days in the Caucasus - Banine

Bahrain

· Bahrain’s Uprising - ed. Ala’a Shehabi & Marc Owen Jones

Bangladesh

· I Am Yours - Reema Zaman

Bhutan

· The Circle of Karma - Kunzang Choden

Brunei

· Moments of Nil - Flora Tavu

China

· The Wandering Earth - Liu Cixin

· Madame Mao - Anchee Min

· Vertical Motion - Can Xue

· China Dream - Ma Jian

· Three Sisters - Bi Feiyu

· The Boat to Redemption - Su Tong

· Wolf Totem - Lu Jiamin

· Big Sister, Little Sister, Red Sister: Three Women at the Heart of Twentieth-Century China - Jung Chang

· Strange Beasts of China - Yan Ge

· Change - Mo Yan

· Grass Soup - Zhang Xianling

· Not Written Words - Xixi

· Daughter of the River - Hong Ying

· Beyond Exemplar Tales - ed. Joan Judge & Hu Ying

· Three Sisters - Bi Feiyu

· Twenty Fragments of a Ravenous Youth - Xiaolu Guo

· Beijing Woman - Wang Yuan

Philippines

· The Farm - Joanne Ramos

· When the Elephants Dance - Tess Uriza Holthe

· Ilustrado - Miguel Syjuco

· Eating Fire and Drinking Water - Arlene J. Chai

· State of War - Ninotchka Rosca

· In the Country - Mia Alvar

· Insurrecto - Gina Apostol

· Crying Mountain - Criselda Yabes

· Translating Feminisms - Pa-Liwanag

· Lola’s House - M. Evelina Galang

· Pinay Guerillas - Stacey Anne Baterina Salinas

· Our Founding Mothers: Lest We Forget - Quennie Ann J. Palafox (esej)

· Dead Stars - Paz Marquez Benitez

· Woman with Horns and Other Stories - Cecilia Manguerra Brainard

Georgia

· The Eight Life - Nino Haratischwili

· One More Year - Sana Krasikov

· Everybody Dies in the Novel - Beqa Adamashvili

India

· The Story of a Goat - Perumal Murugan

· One Part Woman - Perumal Murugan

· Abandon - Sangeeta Bandyopadhyay

· The Glass Palace - Amitav Ghosh

· The White Tiger - Aravind Adiga

· Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie

· Chronicle of a Corpse Bearer - Cyrus Mistry

· Goat Days - Benyamin

· Ghachar Ghochar - Vivek Shanbhag

· Latitudes of Longing - Shubhangi Swarup

· One Part Woman - Perumal Murugan

· A Fistful of Mustard Seeds - F. Santhosh Kumar

Indonesia

· Saman - Ayu Utami

· The Original Dream - Nukila Amal

· The Question of Red - Laksmi Pamuntjak

· Indigenous Species - Khairani Barokka

· Paper Boats - Dee Lestari

· Home - Leila Chudori

· Bound - Okky Madasari

· From Now on Everything Will Be Different - Eliza Vitri Handayani

· Chinese Whispers - Rani Pramesti

Iraq

· The Beekeeper: Rescuing the Stolen Women of Iraq - Dunya Mikhail

· The Book of Collateral Damage - Sinan Antoon

Iran

· Persepolis - Marjane Satrapi

· The Enlightenment of Greengage Tree - Shokoofeh Azar

· Disoriental - Negar Djavadi

· Reading Lolita in Tehran - Azar Nafisi

Israel

· Drinking the Sea at Gaza: Days and Nights Under Siege - Amira Hass

· Sapiens - Yuval Noah Harari

Japonia

· The Housekeeper and the Professor - Yoko Ogawa

· 1Q84 - Haruki Murakami

· Convenience Store Woman - Sayaka Murata

· The Miracles of the Namiya General Store - Keigo Higashino

· Kitchen - Banana Yoshimoto

· Out - Natsuo Kirino

· The Sound of the Mountain - Yasunari Kawabata

· The Temple of the Golden Pavilion - Yukio Mishima

· Earthlings - Sayaka Murata

· Breast and Eggs - Mieko Kawakami

· Tokyo Ueno Station - Yu Miri

· The Memory Police - Yoko Ogawa

· The Emissary - Yoko Tawada

· Battle Royale - Koushun Takami

· In Praise of Shadows - Jun’ichirou Tanizaki

· Jestem kotem - Soseki Natsume

· Parade - Hiromi Kawakami

· Territory of Light - Yukio Tsushima

· An Echo of Heaven - Kenzaburō Ōe

· Almost Transparent Blue - Ryu Murakami

· Death in Midsummer and other stories - Yukio Mishima

· The Diving Pool: Three Novellas - Yoko Ogawa

· Kokoro - Natsume Soseki

· Seven Japanese Tales - Jun’ichiro Tanizaki

· Snow Country - Yasunari Kawabata

· The Tale of Genji - Murasaki Shikibu

· The Waiting Years - Fumiko Enchi

· Confessions of a Mask - Yukio Mishima

· Lonely Castle in the Mirror - Mizuki Tsujimura

· Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea - Yukio Mishima

· The Aosawa Murders - Riku Onda

· In the Miso Soup - Ryo Murakami

· There’s No Such Thing as an Easy Job - Kikuko Tsumura

· Before the Coffee Gets Cold. Tales from the Cafe - Toshikazu Kawaguchi

· Penance - Kanae Minato

· Norwegian Wood - Haruki Murakami

· Strange Weather in Tokyo - Hirami Kawakami

· Lonely Castle in the Mirror - Mizuki Tsujimura

· Kot, który spadł z nieba - Takashi Hiraide

· The Inugami Curse - Seishi Yokomizo

· The Hole - Hiroko Oyamada

· Memoirs of a Polar Bear - Yoko Tawada

· Woman on the Other Shore - Mitsuyo Kakuta

· The Waiting Years - Fumiko Enchi

· Inheritance from Mother - Minae Mizumura

· A Thousand Strands of Black Hair - Seiko Tanabe

· Scream from the Shadows - Setsu Shigematsu

· Black Box - Shiori Ito

Yemen

· Our Women on the Ground - ed. Zahra Hankir

Jordan

· Willow Trees Don’t Weep - Fadia Faquir

Cambodia

· Year of the Rabbit - Tian Veasna

· First They Killed My Father - Loung Ung

· When Broken Glass Floats: Growing Up Under the Khmer Rouge - Chanrithy Him

Qatar

· Fiery Curses - Noura Mohammad Faraj

Kazachstan

· The School - Zaure Batayeva

Kyrgizstan

· An Orange Lemon - Alla Pyatibratova

South Korea

· The Vegetarian - Han Kang

· The Court Dancer - Shin Kyung-Sook

· Ptak - Jeonghui Oh

· Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982 - Cho Nam-Joo

· Our Twisted Hero - Yi Munyol

· The Hen Who Dreamed She Could Fly - Hwang Sun-mi

· The Old Garden - Hwang Sok-yong

· Lost Names: Scenes from a Korean Boyhood - Richard E. Kim

· I Have the Right to Destroy Myself - Kim Young-ha

· Pachinko - Min Jin Lee

· Please Look After Mom - Shin Kyung-sook

· Untold Night and Day - Bae Suah

· Who Ate Up All the Shinga? - Park Wan-Suh

· Unexpected Vanilla - Lee Hyemi

· Five Preludes & A Fugue - Cheon Heerahn

· The Future of Silence. Fiction by Korean Women

· One Left - Kim Soom

· Mannequin - Ch’oe Yun

· Mina - Kim Sagwa

· Shoko’s Smile - Choi Eunyoung

· Practicing Feminism in South Korea - Kyungja Jung

North Korea

· The Girl with Seven Names - Hyeonseo Lee

· Friend - Paek Nam-nyong

· Rewriting Revolution - Immanuel Kim

· Stars Between the Sun and Moon - Lucia Jang & Susan McClelland

· The Accusation - Bandi

· In Order to Live - Yeonmi Park & MaryAnne Vollers

Kuwait

· The Ringing Body - Fatima Yousef al-Ali

Laos

· How to Pronounce Knife - Souvankham Thammavongsa

· Mother’s Beloved: Stories from Laos - Outhine Bounyavong

Lebanon

· Ports of Call - Amin Maalouf

· Always Coca-Cola - Alexandra Chreiteh

· I Remember Beirut - Zeina Abirached

Maldives

· Perfume - Aminath Neena

Malaysia

· The Garden of Evening Mists - Tan Twan Eng

· The Rice Mother - Rani Manicka

· Interlok - Abdullah Hussain

· The Kampung Boy - Lat

· Lake Like a Mirror - Sok Fong Ho

· The Night Tiger - Yangsze Choo

· Evening is the Whole Day - Preeta Samarasan

· Though I Get Home - Yz Chin

· Once We Were There - Bernice Chauly

· Feminism and the Women’s Movement in Malaysia - Cecilia Ng, Maznah Mohamad, Tan Beng Hui

· The Woman Who Breathed Two Worlds - Selina Siakchin Yoke

· Bedtime Stories from the Dead of Night - Julya Oui

· The Professor - Faisal Tehrani

· Iban Dream - Golda Mowe

· Unveiling Choice - Maryam Lee

Myanmar

· Smile as They Bow - Nu Nu Yi

Mongolia

· The Green Eyed Lama - Oyungerel Tsedevdamba & Jeffrey L. Falt

· Elberel - ed. Jantsangiyn Bat-Ireedui & Kazuyuki Okada

· Bitter Tears on New Year’s Eve - D. Natsagdorj

Nepal

· Night - Sulochana Manandhar

· Palpasa Cafe - Narayan Wagle

Oman

· Celestial Bodies - Jokha Alharthi

· The Turtle of Oman - Naomi Shihab Nye

Pakistan

· Cracking India - Bapsi Sidhwa

Palestine

· Minor Detail - Adania Shibli

· The Sea Cloak - Nayrouz Qarmout

· In the Presence of Absence - Mahmoud Darwish

Russia

· The Crime and Punishment- Fiodor Dostojewski

· Przyszło nam tu żyć. Reportaże z Rosji - Jelena Kostiuczenko

· Aetherial Worlds - Tatyana Tolstaya

· Bride and Groom - Alisa Ganieva

· Stalingrad - Vasily Grossman

· One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich - Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

· Dead Souls - Nikolai Gogol

Singapore

· Ponti - Sharlene Teo

· How We Disappeared - Jing-Jing Lee

Sri Lanka

· A Disobedient Girl - Ru Freeman

Syria

· Death is Hard Work - Khaled Khalifa

· Farewell, Damascus - Ghada Samman

Tajikistan

· The City Where Dreams Come True - Gulsifat Shahidi

Thailand

· Bright - Duanwad Pimwana

Taiwan

· Wedding in Autumn And Other Stories - Shih Chiung-Yu

· Stories of the Sahara - Sanmao

· Mulberry and Peach - Hualing Nieh

· A Thousand Moons on a Thousand Rivers - Tsering Woeser

· Last Words from Montmarte - Qiu Miaojin

· The Great Flowing River - Chi Pang-Yuan

· Salsa - Hsia Yu

· Contemporary Taiwanese Women Writers - ed. Jonathan Stalling et al.

· The Membranes - Chi Ta-Wei

Timor Leste

· From Timor Leste to Australia - ed. Jan Trezise

Turkey

· Madonna in a Fur Coat - Sabahattin Ali

· 10 Minutes 38 Seconds in this Strange World - Elif Shafak

· The Atlas of Misty Continents - Ihsan Oktay Anar

· The White Castle - Orhan Pamuk

· Every Fire You Tend - Sema Kaygusuz

· Aha - Birgül Oğuz

· Labyrinth - Burhan Sönmez

· Turcja. Obłęd i melancholia - Ece Temelkuran

· Exile - Çiler İlhan

Turkmenistan

· I Have Come Through Torments Within These Walls - Annasoltan Kekilova

Tibet

· Dalai Lama, My Son - Diki Tsering

Uzbekistan

· The Dancer from Khiva - Bibish

Vietnam

· Paradise of the Blind - Duong Thu Huong

· The Boat - Nam Le

United Arab Emirates

· That Other Me - Maha Gargash

EUROPE

Albania

· The Country Where No One Ever Dies - Ornela Vorpsi

· Othello, The Moor of Vlora - Ben Blushi

Andorra

· The Gravedigger’s Son - Teresa Colom

England

· Trans - Juliet Jacques

· The Quickening Maze - Adam Foulds

Austria

· The World of Yesterday - Stefan Zweig

· The Empress and the Cake - Linda Stift

· Frozen Time - Anna Kim

· Once I Must Have Trodden Soft Grass - Carolina Schutti

Belgium

· Mazel tow. Jak zostałam korepetytorką w domu ortodoksyjnych Żydów - J.S. Margot

· Thirty Days - Annelies Verbeke

· The Map of Regrets - Nathalie Skowronek

· Up to Date - Christophe van Gerrewey

Belarus

· The Unwomanly Face of War - Svetlana Alexievich

Bosnia and Herzegovina

· Zlata’s Diary - Zlata Filipovic

Bulgaria

· In the Town of Joy and Peace - Zdravka Evtimova

Croatia

· The Ministry of Pain - Dubravka Ugresic

· EEG - Daša Drndić

Cyprus

· Death Customs - Constantia Soteriou

· An Album of Stories - Antonis Georgiou

Montenegro

· Time - Dragana Tripković

· Arcueil - Aleksandar Bečanović

· The Son - Andrej Nikolaidis

Czechia

· Immortality - Milan Kundera

· A Kingdom of Souls - Daniela Hodrova

· The Lake - Bianca Bellová

· The Unbearable Lightness of Being - Milan Kundera

Denmark

· When Death Takes Something from You Give It Back - Naja Marie Aidt

· Og så drukner jeg - Ditte Wiese

· Mirror, Shoulder, Signal - Dorthe Nors

· The Least Resistance - Adda Djørup

· Vivian - Christina Hesselholdt

Estonia

· At the Manor, or Jump into the Fire - Maarja Kangro

Finland

· Crossing - Pajtim Statovci

· The Summer Book - Tove Jansson

· Things That Fall from the Sky - Selja Ahava

· My Cat Yugoslavia - Pajtim Statovici

France

· Oscar and the Lady in Pink - Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt

· The Little Prince - Antoine de Saint-Exupery

· Night Flight - Antoine de Saint-Exupery

· Papillon - Henri Charriere

· Lent dehors - Philippe Djian

· Those Without Shadows - Francoise Sagan

· Animalia - Jean-Baptiste Del Amo

· Vernon Subutex 1 - Virginie Despentes

· The Boy - Marcus Malte

· The Cave Teenager - Emmanuelle Pagano

· Winter in Sokcho - Elisa Shua Dusapin

· A Girl’s Story - Annie Ernaux

· Consent - Vanessa Springora

· Pig Tales - Marie Darrieussecq

Greece

· Antygona - Sofokles

· Król Edyp - Sofokles

· Zigzag Through the Bitter-Orange Trees - Ersi Sotiropoulos

· Good Will Come From The Sea - Christos Ikonomou

Greenland

· Crimson - Niviaq Korneliussen

Spain

· Patria (Homeland) - Fernando Aramburu

· The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon

· The Angel’s Game - Carlos Ruiz Zafon

· The Prince of Mist - Carlos Ruiz Zafon

· The Hive - Camilo Jose Cela

· Brief Theory of Travel and the Desert - Cristian Crusat Schretzmeijer

· Ordesa - Manuel Viles

Netherlands

· The Diary of a Young Girl - Anne Frank

· The Discomfort of Evening - Marieke Lucas Rijneveld

· The Black Lake - Hella Haasse

Ireland

· Normal People - Sally Rooney

· The Third Policeman - Flann O’Brien

· A Ghost in the Throat - Doireann Ni Ghriofa

· This Hostel Life - Melatu Uche Okorie

· Women and the Irish Revolution - Linda Connolly

· Republic of Shame - Caelainn Hogan

· Thin Places - Kerri Ni Dochartaigh

· Show Them A Good Time - Nicole Flattery

· Moving into the Space Cleared by Our Mothers - Mary Dorcey

· People Like Me - Lynn Ruane

Iceland

· The Greenhouse - Auður Ava Ólafsdóttir

Catalonia

· Brother in Ice - Alicia Kopf

· Cień eunucha (L'ombra de l'eunuc) - Jaume Cabre

Kosovo

· Call Me by My Name: Poetry from Kosova - Flora Brovina

Liechtenstein

· Man wortet sich die Orte selbst - Iren Nigg

· The Dark Muse - Armin Öhri

Lithuania

· Shadows on the Tundra - Dalia Grinkevičiutė

· Tonight I Shall Sleep by the Wall - Giedra Radvilavičiūtė

Luxembourg

· Tentative - Anna Leader

Latvia

· Soviet Milk - Nora Ikstena

North Macedonia

· A Spare Life - Lidija Dimkovska

Malta

· Running Commentary - Daphne Caruana Galizia

Moldova

· Selected Poems - Paula Erizanu

Monaco

· My Book of Flowers - Princess Grace of Monaco

Germany

· The Hidden Life of Trees - Peter Wohlleben

· Perfume - Patrick Suskind

· The Sorrows of Young Werther - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

· The Century of the Surgeon - Jurgen Thorwald

· Siddharta - Hermann Hesse

· Tyll - Daniel Kehlmann

· High as the Waters - Anja Kampmann

· Go Went Gone - Jenny Erpenbeck

· On The End of Loneliness - Benedict Wells

· Malina - Ingeborg Bachmann

· The Drinker - Hans Fallada

Norway

· The Bookseller of Kabul - Asne Seierstad

· Will and Testament - Vigdis Hjorth

· Love - Hanne Ørstavik

· Wait, Blink: A Perfect Picture of Inner Life - Gunnhild Øyehaug

· Encirclement - Carl Frode Tiller

· The History of Bees - Maja Lunde

Poland

· Drive Your Plow over the Bones of the Dead - Olga Tokarczuk

· Wyznania gorszycielki (Confessions of a Scandalous Woman) - Irena Krzywicka

Portugal

· Now and at the Hour of Our Death - Susana Moreira Marques

· The Kokoschka’s Doll - Afonso Cruz

· Les Anges, Violeta - Dulce Maria Cardoso

· Blindness - José Saramago

Romania

· The Appointment - Herta Muller

· The Ages of the Game. Citadel Street - Claudiu M. Florian

· For Two Thousand Years - Mihail Sebastian

San Marino

· The Tram Journey - Milena Ercolani

Serbia

· Dogs and Others - Biljana Jovanovic

· The Chasm - Darko Tuševljaković

Slovakia

· Legenda o języku - Pavol Rankov

· Przez ucho igielne (sploty) - Ján Púček

· Opowieść o rzeczywistym człowieku - Pavel Vilikovsky

· The Equestrienne - Ursula Kovalyk

Slovenia

· Angel of Oblivion - Maja Haderlap

Switzerland

· Sweet Days of Discipline - Fleur Jaeggy

Sweden

· Millennium trilogy - Stieg Larsson

· Fjallbaka series - Camilla Lackberg

· The Silver Road - Stina Jackson

· The Helios Disaster - Linda Bostrom Knausgard

· The Family Clause - Jonas Hassen Khemiri

· Welcome to America - Linda Boström Knausgård

· The Hundred-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out of the Window and Disappeared - Jonas Jonasson

· A Fortune Foretold - Agneta Pleijel

Ukraine

· Fieldwork in Ukrainian Sex - Oksana Zabuzhko

Wales

· The Welsh Language: A History - Janet Davies

Hungary

· Miasto uśpionych kobiet - Gyula Krudy

· Traveler and the Moonlight - Antal Szerb

· Baron Wenckheim’s Homecoming - László Krasznahorkai

· The Door - Magda Szabo

· There Is None, Nor Let There Be - Edina Szvoren

Italy

· The Lying Life of Adult - Elena Ferrante

· Trick - Domenico Starnone

· Invisible Cities - Italo Calvino

· Arturo’s Island - Elsa Morante

· A Girl Returned - Donatella Di Pietrantonio

· Beyond Babylon - Igiaba Scego

· Happiness, as Such - Natalia Ginzburg

· The Dry Heart - Natalia Ginzburg

· Three O'Clock in the Morning - Gianrico Carofiglio

OCEANIA

Australia

· The Book Thief - Markus Zusak

· The Messenger - Markus Zusak

· Where the Streets Had a Name - Randa Abdel-Fattah

· Songspirals: Sharing Women’s Wisdom of Country through Songlines - Gay’wu Group of Women

Fiji

· Kaluti - Shazia Usman

Kiribati

· Teaote and the Wall - Marita Davies

Micronesia

· My Urohs - Emelihter Kihleng

Nauru

· A Beautiful Prayer - Joanne Ekamdeiya Gobure

New Zealand

· The Cleaner - Paul Cleave

· Collected Stories - Patricia Grace

· Everything Is Illuminated - Eleanor Catton

Palau

· The Palauan Perspectives - Hermana Ramarui

Papua-New Gwinea

· My Walk to Equality: Essays, Stories & Poetry by Papua New Guinean Women

Samoa

· Where We Once Belonged - Sia Fiegiel

Tonga

· This is My Story of Resilience - Uinise Tulikihakau

Tuvalu

· Tusitala - Selina Tusitala Marsh

Vanuatu

· Black Stone - Grace Mera Molisa

Marshall Islands

· Iep Jaltok: Poems from a Marshallese Daughter - Kathy Jetnil-Kijiner

Salomon Islands

· Flotsam & Jetsam - Jully Makini

I started this list for my own personal use, but I thought some people might find it helpful too. I plan on expanding it further, so any recommendations are welcome :)

[letterboxd]

Third Language.

With her debut film Farewell Amor out now following a successful journey on the festival circuit, Tanzanian-American writer and director Ekwa Msangi tells Selome Hailu about the third language of music, growing up on knockoffs of the Rambo franchise, and her favorite African filmmakers.

There’s a subtle musicality central to the way Ekwa Msangi carries herself. She finds melodies in her words: “You hum the ‘m’,” she says when asked how to pronounce her last name. “Mmm-sangi.” And perhaps to a more subconscious degree, she speaks with rhythm, too: “I do think, and I know, and I can see…” she trails off, ruminating on how much hope she feels for the future of Black filmmaking. Naturally, this musical quality meanders into her work.

Farewell Amor is a quiet film, except for when it isn’t. Three Angolan immigrants revolve around each other in an awkward orbit, each trying to make sense of their dynamic now that they’ve left their home behind. Kept apart for seventeen years by the bureaucratic intricacies of war and paperwork, Walter (Ntare Guma Mbaho Mwine) is finally joined by his wife Esther (Zainab Jah) and daughter Sylvia (Jayme Lawson—soon to be seen as Bella Reál in The Batman) in New York City. But they don’t know each other anymore and spend much of their time in silence, until music and dance burst forward as a chance at common ground.

Msangi’s screenplay never dwells on the technicalities of the family’s struggle against the American immigration system. Instead, it plunges into softer, more personal after-effects of dreams deferred. Walter’s walls bear a faded calendar with Barack Obama’s face on it, even though his empty apartment complicates the “hope” the president promised people like him. When his family arrives at long last, Esther wears a silver cross pendant, having made sense of these years as a married-yet-single mother by drawing closer—almost too close—to religion. Sylvia barely speaks at all, caught between a faith that isn’t hers and a home that isn’t either.

Ntare Guma Mbaho Mwine and Nana Mensah in ‘Farewell Amor’. / Photo courtesy IFC Films

The film’s triptych structure emerged after Msangi spent months grappling with how to create a feature-length screenplay out of her original short film. “Having just come off of the short, I was focusing on Walter’s story. But [I] didn’t think that was the most original story I could tell,” she says. “And then, out of indecision between whether I should make it Walter’s or Sylvia’s story, I decided to just do both. Initially it was two perspectives that I was looking at. But I realized that Esther’s story was really the linchpin for both of their stories, and it wouldn’t make sense not to have hers.”

Giving Walter, Esther and Sylvia their own chapters makes Farewell Amor a stronger film than if it had followed a singular, traditional protagonist. Extreme conservatism in one chapter is revealed as a desire to avoid pain in another; one character’s cramped living room is another’s space to dance freely. Writing on Letterboxd, Tabby points out how the three-part narrative structure grants meaningful subjectivity to characters who deserve it: “It’s so easy for Westernized perspectives to steamroll over films that deal in cultural disparities and thematics, but Farewell Amor takes important steps in showing all sides of the story,” she writes. “It was refreshing to see [the characters] each given the space to exist.”

This layering of voices happens in the camerawork, too. Each section of the narrative is marked with a visual language of its own, complete with specific color palettes and cinematographic techniques. Msangi thinks fondly about the work she put in with cinematographer Bruce Francis Cole to make the chapters distinct. “For Walter’s, it’s sort of a slow cinema, where there’s a lot of still framing. It’s almost like he’s stuck, you know? Stuck in the frame between two surfaces, two hard surfaces, a window frame, a door frame. And in Sylvia’s, we wanted to have it reflect her livelihood, her restlessness. All handheld cameras, all movement. And then for Esther, she’s very observant. She’s been taking everything in, almost in an investigative style, but also a little bit romantic. She’s romanticized this setup, so a lot of close shots, a lot of soft lighting.”

Jayme Lawson as Sylvia in ‘Farewell Amor’. / Photo courtesy IFC Films

Music gives Farewell Amor a cohesion across the different storylines. “Music is, for these characters in particular, and for me, kind of a third language,” Msangi says. “It gives you a glimpse under the covers, what’s under the sheets.” The soundtrack underscores strong performances from Mwine, Jah and Lawson, lending depth to their quietude and vibrance to their movement. Msangi also notes how sound became a cornerstone of her collaboration with the actors: “As I was writing from different perspectives, in order to help me get into each character’s skin, I would listen to the music that they would be interested in.” She later shared these playlists with the actors, using the songs to communicate what words couldn’t.

Msangi has a good laugh as she tries to think about the major films that inspired her to become a filmmaker. “You know, I don’t have that. Well, I do have that, but not for the reasons that most of my film peers have,” she says. Growing up in East Africa in the ’80s and ’90s, little to none of the programming on television was local. What did kids watch instead? “We watched Rambo for probably ten years straight, and then Rambo knockoffs for another ten years after that. I decided to become a filmmaker because of horrible Rambo knockoff films.”

“I grew up surrounded by such colorful and delightful and interesting and funny people,” Msangi says. “And none of that was reflected anywhere in the media.” As she grew older, she sought out African films she couldn’t access in her youth. Now, they’re some of her highest recommendations. Ousmane Sembène is the first African director whose filmography she ever got the chance to dive into. Sembène’s 50-year career has garnered him the affectionate title of ‘Father of African film’ among many critics and scholars, who laud him for his dramas, including Black Girl and Camp de Thiaroye. Msangi, however, finds herself taken with his unique sense of humor. She has also been inspired by Safi Faye, another Senegalese director, who became the first sub-Saharan African woman to attain commercial distribution in 1975—and whose film Mossane portrays sexual intimacy with an openness Msangi hadn’t seen elsewhere.

Writer-director Ekwa Msangi. / Photo courtesy IFC Films

In Farewell Amor, Sylvia’s chapter reads like a compacted coming-of-age film. Msangi points to South African director Darrell James Roodt’s Sarafina! as an influence in that regard. “It was showing for two weeks in Nairobi, and I lined up for four hours to watch,” she says about the film, a drama about youth involvement in the 1976 Soweto uprising. “Even though it’s from a different part of the continent, I’d never seen young African teenagers on a screen before.” More recently, she has loved 2011 TIFF breakout and Oscar contender Death for Sale by Moroccan director Faouzi Bensaïdi, and Radha Blank’s The Forty-Year-Old Version is her favorite film of 2020. She’s hopeful about the future of Black American cinema: Ava DuVernay and Ryan Coogler are two of her favorite working directors.

Msangi’s selections are wide in range, but there’s still one thing holding them together: themes of vulnerability, community and celebration of identity, across different decades and genres. In fact, her approach to watching movies isn’t far off from the way she made her own—Farewell Amor maps concurrent experiences of disparate people, and Msangi’s tastes seem driven by the same balance of vastness and specificity.

“I’m a filmmaker who really abhors working on the same kind of story over and over again, the same genre, the same kinds of characters,” she says. “So I’m not going to make my career just telling stories about immigrants or about, you know, their wretched troubles,” she laughs. “I don’t want to do that.”

Msangi’s next project will be an African-American period piece; beyond that, she hopes to make films in several locations: the Caribbean, Europe and all over the African continent. “I really would like to just have a lot of fun with my career. You know? Because it’s a fun and magical industry that we work in! The work that we do in creating these stories and hopes and dreams—we create magic, so it should be fun.”

Related content

Adam Davie’s Black Life on Film list

Shachar’s 20 Films by Black Directors 2021 Challenge

Screenpaige’s list of Black Women in Film

Follow Selome on Letterboxd

‘Farewell Amor’ is out now in select theaters and on demand through IFC.

[lyonfamilyinafrica]

22 June

We made a last minute booking for dinner at Yeoville Dinner Club last night. So glad we did. We were warmly greeted by Sanza in the street of bustling Yeoville (a suburb considered unsafe in Jo’burg to visit independently) and guided upstairs to his art filled apartment with large table set for 18. A small kitchen where food was prepared and cocktails made from fermented fruit juices.

Sanza is a great storyteller and encouraged everyone to sit next to people they don’t know and mingle. He grew up in Soweto where food was bland and is a self taught cook who likes to reinvent dishes from all over Africa with amazing colours and flavours.

Sanza was so generous welcoming us all into his home and sharing so much food and stories and made everyone feel special.

Great experience for our last night in Africa.

We are now at the airport waiting to board our flight to Singapore for a few nights stay to complete our trip.

[italynt]

AC Milan captain Valentina Giacinti and Milan midfielder Refiloe Jane are in Refiloe's hometown of Soweto (in South Africa) to promote a clinic that will help young, aspiring girls who want to be footballers, develop the necessary skills they'll need in order to achieve their dreams. The project is the brainchild of Refiloe herself, as the training camps are are apart of a charitable initiative that she founded called the Refiloe Jane Foundation. You can follow the progress of the initiative through the Twitter hashtag specifically created for it, which is #RJFClinics.

[surejaya]

Hum If You Don't Know the Words

Download : Hum If You Don't Know the Words More Book at: Zaqist Book

Hum If You Don't Know the Words by Bianca Marais

Perfect for readers of The Secret Life of Bees and The Help, a perceptive and searing look at Apartheid-era South Africa, told through one unique family brought together by tragedy.Life under Apartheid has created a secure future for Robin Conrad, a ten-year-old white girl living with her parents in 1970s Johannesburg. In the same nation but worlds apart, Beauty Mbali, a Xhosa woman in a rural village in the Bantu homeland of the Transkei, struggles to raise her children alone after her husband's death. Both lives have been built upon the division of race, and their meeting should never have occurred...until the Soweto Uprising, in which a protest by black students ignites racial conflict, alters the fault lines on which their society is built, and shatters their worlds when Robin's parents are left dead and Beauty's daughter goes missing.After Robin is sent to live with her loving but irresponsible aunt, Beauty is hired to care for Robin while continuing the search for her daughter. In Beauty, Robin finds the security and family that she craves, and the two forge an inextricable bond through their deep personal losses. But Robin knows that if Beauty finds her daughter, Robin could lose her new caretaker forever, so she makes a desperate decision with devastating consequences. Her quest to make amends and find redemption is a journey of self-discovery in which she learns the harsh truths of the society that once promised her protection.Told through Beauty and Robin's alternating perspectives, the interwoven narratives create a rich and complex tapestry of the emotions and tensions at the heart of Apartheid-era South Africa. Hum If You Don't Know the Words is a beautifully rendered look at loss, racism, and the creation of family.

Download : Hum If You Don't Know the Words More Book at: Zaqist Book

[2bhkflatforsale-blog]

Apartments in Durban: zoning and classification of soil use

ZONING AND CLASSIFICATION OF SOIL USE (Part III)

Industrial (I): These are the urban areas predominantly destined to the location and operation of establishments of transformation of products.

Zoning plans include: Heavy Industry Zone (I4), Large Industry Zone (I3), Light Industry Zone (I2), and Elemental Industry Zone (I1).

Users can find more Apartments in South Africa on Free Classified Website in South Africa for many cities in South Africa like: Apartments in Soweto, Apartments in Johannesburg, Apartments in Pretoria, Apartments in Durban, Apartments in Tembisa, Apartments in Cape Town, Apartments in Katlehong, Apartments in Umlazi, Apartments in Soshanguve, Apartments in Khayelitsha, , Apartments in Randburg, Apartments in Mamelodi, Apartments in Roodepoort, Apartments in Port Elizabeth, Apartments in East London, Apartments in Boksburg, Apartments in Bloemfontein, Apartments in Germiston, Apartments in Ibhayi, Apartments in Polokwane, Apartments in Nelspruit, Apartments in Mbombela Nelspruit, Apartments in Kimberley, Apartments in Benoni, Apartments in Pietermaritzburg, and users can Post Free Classified Ads in South Africa on these classified websites.

Commercial (C): these are the urban areas mainly destined to the location and operation of establishments of purchase and sale of products and services.

Users can find more 2 BHK Apartments in South Africa on Free Classified Website in South Africa for many cities in South Africa like: 2 BHK Apartments in Soweto, 2 BHK Apartments in Johannesburg, 2 BHK Apartments in Pretoria, 2 BHK Apartments in Durban, 2 BHK Apartments in Tembisa, 2 BHK Apartments in Cape Town, 2 BHK Apartments in Katlehong, 2 BHK Apartments in Umlazi, 2 BHK Apartments in Soshanguve, 2 BHK Apartments in Khayelitsha, , 2 BHK Apartments in Randburg, 2 BHK Apartments in Mamelodi, 2 BHK Apartments in Roodepoort, 2 BHK Apartments in Port Elizabeth, 2 BHK Apartments in East London, 2 BHK Apartments in Boksburg, 2 BHK Apartments in Bloemfontein, 2 BHK Apartments in Germiston, 2 BHK Apartments in Ibhayi, 2 BHK Apartments in Polokwane, 2 BHK Apartments in Nelspruit, 2 BHK Apartments in Mbombela Nelspruit, 2 BHK Apartments in Kimberley, 2 BHK Apartments in Benoni, 2 BHK Apartments in Pietermaritzburg, and users can Post Free Classified Ads in South Africa on these classified websites.

Zoning plans include:

Specialized Trade Zone (CE), Metropolitan Trade Zone (CM), Zonal Trade Zone (CZ), and Neighborhood Trade Zone (CV). Local trade is not indicated in the zoning plans; its location is defined in the processes of urban habilitation.

[bloojayoolie]

Memes, News, and Respect: 12:36 Remake out of pure respect Memes This Soweto father tracked down the man who raped his 3-year-old daughter, tied him to tree, cut off the the rapist's penis, cooked it, and forced him to eat it. carefully, he's a hero) made with mematic V. 69.420.3.14159 T, Share 7.8k 180 BEST COMMENTS None of this is true. The girl was 13 not 3. He didn't tie him to a tree, it was in his apartment. He didn't make the guy eat his own genitals, he burned them. It would still be interesting without the made up parts, so what was the point of making stuff up https://ift.tt/34wLVAq Add a comment >> Seriously

[hydeschack41-blog]

Untold Human Origins And African History Of African South Africans~African Historiography

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[eat-sleep-eat-repeat1-blog]

Protesting & Activism

There’s no denying that protesting and activism are a big part of social media these days; On my own feed I’m constantly seeing events created for climate change, whether it be a specific issue like mining or just the climate/environment in general, with politics these days it all just seems like our planet will turn to shit..:( 

Originally sourced from: Giphy.com 

On the 28th of November 2018 tens of thousands of students across Australia walked out of their classrooms, staging protests demanding action on climate change. ScoMo showing zero support to students saying ‘We don't support our schools being turned into parliaments. What we want is more learning in schools and less activism in schools’ (no surprise there). other politicians like Julie Banks said she was proud to support the students saying ‘this is their time’.  Hearing the words PROTEST or ACTIVISM can scare people, sometimes protesting doesn’t turn out to be what it first intended, peaceful harmless marches always have the slight possibility of turning into a fight or even a riot, one of the worst cases of this was in 1976. 20,000 South African’s in the town of Soweto recent laws forcing them to learn the language of their white Dutch oppressors. 176 Students were killed by South African Police. This is certainly a prime example of what no one wants a march/protest to result in.

Personally I haven’t made the effort to participate in a protest or march, their are many current issues in this world that I care about and feel as though I am apart of, but a protest isn’t something I have put any thought into...not yet anyway. However I have seen and signed many online petitions, most recently the #FightForTheBight campaign, even though I have no physical presence for this campaign I believe that sharing awareness online can be just as impactful; with the ability to reach hundreds of people or more with the click of a button, a share, a like or a comment and a hashtag.

Originally sourced from: Giphy.com

I believe we all need a piece of activism/protest some where in our lives, it keeps us up to date with the issues in our society whether it’s a small community thing or an issue that involves the country, participation isn’t necessary for all as long as there is some kind of awareness.