EDITORIAL
Renowned writer Virginia Phiri presenting her paper at the 2010 Writers' End of Year Get-Together, Harare
The year is coming to an end and
what hope is there except that it will eventually bless us all. Yes, we will
not stop creating from our ‘winning’ world and the same should happen to you.
Don’t stop creating from your ‘winning’ world, although you may not see the
fruits yet. We congratulate Rutendo Chabikwa for flying the country’s flag
higher by winning the 2012 Golden Baobab Prize in the Rising Writer Category.
Keep rising, we say! In the past few days, online media was awash with
messages condemning gender based violence (GBV), and it is in solidarity with all progressive
Zimbabweans that we dedicate our poetry section to those people, especially women, who
have fallen victim to this kind of violence.
Meanwhile, we know how painful it is to
announce that the 3rd Edition of our Writers’ End of Year
Get-Together which was expected to take place in December has been postponed to next year due to forces beyond our control. Not all is
lost though, just scroll downwards and enjoy the rest of the newsletter...keep
rising!
YOUNG
ZIMBABWEAN WRITER WINS GOLDEN BAOBAB PRIZE
By Beaven Tapureta
Rutendo Chabikwa
Eighteen year old Zimbabwean
writer Rutendo Chabikwa is the winner of the coveted 2012 Golden Baobab Prize
in the Rising Writer Category.
The other 2012 winners are
Nigerian Joy Nwiyi in the Senior Category and Jenny Robson in the Junior
Category for their stories “Something for Next Time” and “Wha-Zup Dude?”
respectively.
In a brief chat with WIN, Canada-based
Rutendo said she felt honoured and believed that this award will launch her to
greater heights.
“I feel greatly honoured to
win the award as I am hoping that it will become a stepping stone for me to
continue sharing stories,” said Rutendo who could not hide her excitement on
lifting her country’s flag higher.
Rutendo won the award for
her short stories Letters from the City and A Healing Adventure. Her love for
sharing stories motivates her although she says poetry is her first passion.
“I believe that stories are
what bring a people together, they are what unite dreams and reality,” said the
young writer who has so much quotable wisdom and hope for her country’s
literature.
“I hope that more
Zimbabwean authors will emerge, not just in the area of children fiction
stories, but in any genre, as writing in our own context helps reaffirm our
identity. I encourage young writers to continue writing, whether or not you
hope for a big break, one day your story will mark the beginning of a turning
point in someone's life, and what greater joy is there than that of knowing
that your story has transformed a life.”
Born in 1994 in Harare, Rutendo is
on scholarship at the United World Colleges at Lester B. Pearson College in
British Columbia, Canada, where she is studying for an International
Baccalaureate.
She
becomes the third Zimbabwean writer to win the Golden Baobab Prize in a different
category. The other previous Zimbabwean winners are Ivor W. Hartmann who
scooped the prize in 2009 with his story “Mr Goop”, written for children
between 12 -15 years, and Mirirai Moyo who won the award the following year (2010)
with her story “Diki, The Little Earthworm” written for children between 8-11
years.
The Golden Baobab Prize is an
African literary award whose goal is to inspire the creation of African children stories as
well as literature for young adults that appeal to the whole world.
For more information about the Golden Baobab Prize, visit www.goldenbaobab.org.
AFRICAN
FICTION MAGAZINE CALLS FOR WORKS
WIN Staff Writer
Jungle Jim Magazine, an illustrated publication for African pulp fiction,
based in Cape Town, South Africa, is in constant need for work by new and
exciting African authors.
Jungle Jim is looking for short fiction (up to 4,500 words) but according
to editor Jenna Bass, the magazine also publishes serials and novel extracts
while accepting non-English stories with a translation.
Where possible, Jungle Jim will
publish both versions, says Bass, who encouraged Zimbabwean young writers to
grab the opportunity brought by this bi-monthly magazine.
Jungle Jim Magazine’s potential in producing stories of
international appeal was confirmed when one of its exclusive stories “Hunter
Emmanuel” by Constance Myburgh was shortlisted for the 2012 Caine Prize.
Launched in 2011 in South Africa, Jungle Jim magazine is distributed in
both print and online and publishes “genre-based writing from all over Africa”.
The magazine aims to spread narrative, imagination and concept-driven work by
African writers throughout the continent and internationally.
THE
REGULAR WRITER
(The
following short story won the Junior Writer Prize in the 2012 WIN/GAT Short
Story Writing Competition)
David the Brave
Young Man
By Panashe
Mushambi (above), Nettleton Primary School, Harare
Once
upon a time there was a King and a Queen who lived in a beautiful Kingdom. They
were very greedy. They wanted all the riches in the Kingdom like gold, silver
and jewelery. Everyone hated them because of their greediness. The King and
Queen always thought about their riches.
“The
gold, silver and jewellery are ours. Every piece should be ours,” said the Queen.
“Yes, yes we must own every piece of gold,
silver and jewellery. All the riches in this Kingdom are going to be ours my dear
wife,” said the King more greedily.
“Yes,
it will be all ours. Ha, ha, ha,” they laughed.
One
day they came up with a plan to take other people’s riches.
“My
dear wife, I have come up with a big plan,” said the King.
“What plan?” asked the Queen.
“Have
you forgotten? Well, it’s about how we can take the riches away from the people.
It is a good plan my wife,” answered the King.
“Oh,
I almost forgot. Please tell me about the plan,” said the Queen impatiently.
“Okay,
I think we should take all the riches from the poor first and if we don’t get
enough riches we will go and take from the rich. We will take everything by
force!” said the Queen greedily.
“By
next week we will start taking all the riches,” shouted the King.
They
told the guards to prepare for the following week. The guards were ready to
take other people’s wealth and riches. Days passed slowly. The day arrived but
people were not aware of anything.
“Guards,
you must take all the riches by force if anyone refuses,” shouted the King.
The
guards went to the village taking the villagers’ riches. They took from the
poor. People were left with no money to feed their children or take them to
school. Widows lost everything their husbands left for them. It was so painful
and sorrowful that all the people who lost their riches wanted to kill the King
and Queen.
There
was a brave young man called David, he was so brave and was willing to die for
his people. He wanted to stop the King from taking the people’s riches.
One
day he went to the palace to try and stop the nonsense. He started shouting to
the King and Queen. “You cowards, come out now. You are so stupid. Come out
now! I am not afraid of you!” he shouted to the King.
“Who’s that? Whom do you think you are disturbing
my beautiful dream,” the King shouted back.
“Why, why do you hate your own people like this?
Why! Can’t you work for yourself to get rich? People are suffering to get the
riches you are taking. God said a man should work for food and wealth. If you are
a King it doesn’t mean you can just have whatever you want,” shouted David.
“Who
do you think you are, stupid boy,” said the King angrily.
The Queen
who was also there said, “My husband, that boy is insulting you. He thinks that
he can judge you. Deal with him.”
“I
just wanted to say that one day you will
regret ever taking other people’s riches. Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” said
David, leaving the palace.
“My husband, you should punish him,” said the
Queen. Astonished by David’s brevity, the King asked David his name. and said, “David,
I am throwing a bet. If anything doesn’t happen to me you will be killed and
all the people you’re protecting will lose their properties.”
“Fine,
if anything does happen to you, you will return everything to everyone with ten
pieces of gold on top and give up your throne,” said David.
“Sure,”
the King agreed.
David
went back to his village and told everyone the news. “People, I did my best. I
had a bet with the King. I am sure I will win and you will get back your riches
with 10 gold pieces on top,” said David to his people. “What will happen to the
King if he loses,” asked one man. “He will give up the throne,” answered David.
“That’s great,” said another man. “Thank you, David,” said another.
“I
told you I did my best. We all have to wait and see. We should also pray,” said
David after a certain old woman said, “Thank you, David. If the King loses you
shall be our King. We all promise.” “Yes,”
agreed all the people. “Please don’t mock me,” said David. “We are not mocking
you David. It is very true. You will make a good leader,” said anther man. The
people in the village prayed day and night for the King to lose.
The
King continued to take people’s riches. One good day, when everyone was happy,
the guards approached an old lady’s house. “Woman, give us your riches,”
shouted one of the guards. “I have gold but I don’t want to give it to you,”
said the old lady. “If you refuse we are going to get the King,” said the
guard. The guards went back to the palace and told the King about the old lady.
The king went to the old lady’s house. “Hey lady, give me the gold now,”
shouted the King. “Never,” said the old lady. “You asked for it,” said the
King. He went inside the house and searched but he could not find it. “You are
so stubborn. Guard give me your whip, I want to whip this lady,” shouted the
King. He whipped the old lady until she told him where the gold was. “How many
pieces are they?” shouted the King. “Ten pieces,” said the old lady in pain.
The King took the money and went back to the palace. “My wife we have got all
the riches from the poor. Let me see if the old lady’s gold is real gold,” said
the King happily. He opened the gold pieces. When he started counting them the
pieces turned into ten snakes. They were cobras.
The
King and Queen were bitten almost to death. The snakes turned back into coins
and the King and Queen were rushed to the hospital. Luckily, they survived.
“My
husband you lost the bet. What are we going to do? What did we do? You are so
stupid. We are losing everything you fool!” said the Queen, embarrassed.
“It
just happened by mistake,” said the King sadly. “What mistake? You are a silly
fool. I told you but you wouldn’t listen!” shouted the Queen. “Its life my dear
wife and everything changes,” said the King ashamed. “What is life, what
changes? We are going to live in the village and we are losing everything,”
said the Queen. “Sorry my dear,” the
King tried to console his wife but she was hard.
“You
know what, my parents are still alive. They still want me. I am still a
princess. I am no longer your wife. Tomorrow I am going back to my Kingdom. I
am sorry. I am leaving,” said the Queen. And the Queen went to another Kingdom where
her parents were and the King was left alone.
David
and all the people came to the King’s palace. “Give us our money,” shouted the
people. The King gave the people their riches and also gave up his throne. “I
am here to say that David has the throne now. He is our King,” said an elderly
man. “He is our King because he was willing to lose his life for all of us,”
said the old lady. “He is brave,” said the elderly man. “Yes,” agreed all the
people. “Thank you all,” said David.
David
was crowned King. He married a girl called Mary and she was crowned Queen.
People were so happy. David loved his people very much. David got a son from
his wife and they lived happily.
(Copyright:Panashe Mushambi)
ZWA
GOES TO MASVINGO
Press
Release
The Zimbabwe Writers Association (ZWA) is having an
outreach meeting on Saturday 1 December 2012 in Masvingo at the CHARLES AUSTIN
THEARTRE'S DOUG HILL ROOM (Masvingo Civic Centre) at 9am to 1pm. Writers
around Masvingo and the outlying areas are all invited.
Our outreach would take the shape of introductions
of associations and individual writers, followed by an open exchange of
problems, challenges, ideas etc as the basis of consultation. On our part, we
shall introduce the idea of ZWA and its constitution to Masvingo and what we
have managed to achieve so far and how beneficial it has been to writers. In
other words, it is really an open ended occasion. We shall discuss the ZWA
constitution and how those interested may join.
Our contact persons are Dr Shumirai Nyota 0772529014 and Dr. Jacob Mapara:0772387981.
Membership fee is only $10.
We bring along a guest; writer Mashingaidze Gomo,
whose NAMA-winning novel, A Fine Madness is currently on the Advanced level
syllabus. Gomo has agreed to answer any questions on his book towards the end
of the meeting. Teachers and their students who are reading this book for exams
are welcome.
The Zimbabwe Writers Association (ZWA) is the
newest nationally inclusive writers Organization whose formation started in
July 2010 leading to the AGM of June 4, 2011. Zimbabwean writers have taken the
initiative to coordinate themselves to form an organisation to represent them
and defend their interests. ZWA was registered with the National Arts Council
in January 2011 and has since been to Gweru, Bulawayo and Mutare.
+inserted by ZWA secretary, Tinashe Muchuri:0733843455
RHYTHMS
OF TONGA DRUMS
Mulimu
Wa Zimwayamakani
Ngu Rev. Jeffrey Muleya.
Zimwayamakani zyaangunukide,
zitakwe muziyeme alubo zyendelezegwa muluzibo abusongo bwajulujulu zilayandika
muchisi nkokuti chizwidilile oobotu.
Zimwayamakani ;
- Zizibya
bantu zintu zilikuchitikila kule ankubabede
- Zilasungwaazya
lusumpuko muzilawu, muzilikiti amuzisi. Chitondezyo chimwi ncheechi:
nzimwayamakani zikonzya kuzibya manyika aatala abuvubi bujanika mulaamwi masena
atazibinkene, kajisi bantu batkonzyi kulichitila. Aabo bakonzya bamvwa balasika
bazobeleke ziyanda kuchita mpawo lusumpuko lwasika kubusena oobo.
- Zilagwaasizya
kulibabaya balikuchikolo kakutalangwi kuti nchibeelaanzi.
- Nguwo
mulonga mupati ngutukonzzya kubelesya kumwaya chiimo chesu kubatuba
Yoonse misyobo yazimwayamakani
yeelede kusumpulwa – mapepamakani, zipekupeku azimwi zyeendela muluubi. Chimbi
chipati cheelede kusungwaazigwa, kapati muchisi chabaSiya chaAfrica, tweelede
kuvuzya bube bwazimwayamakani eezi muzilawu kuchitila kuti;
- Boonse
banichisi bulichimwi achimwi chazisi ajane mweenya wakuswiilizya kuwayigwa
kwamilumbe kakutakwe buyumuyumu pe bweetelezegwa amayuwe ayangede nkaambo
nkuzimwayila akulibamwi bantu kwalampisya.
- Bantu
beni babe achakuchita aatala amabambe aabubelesi bwamumo.
- Milaka
yesu yoonse ipegwe myeenya iyelene yakwaambuulwa akusumpulwa muzilawu amuzisi.
Kunkani yazyalusumpuko
alwazyabuvubi luundu luyanda makani aanchobeni aatala azisambalilo antoomwe
amilawu yafulumende mulizyamabbindawuko kuchitila kuti babambe antoomwe akuzwa
amizeezo idontonkene. Zyeelede kujania munachisi woonse makani aamweelede
amugwasya kuti azwe amizeezo ikonzya kumugwasya junza. Luundu lukonzya
kumaninwa lusyomo kumabelekelo azimwayamakani antoomwe afulumende akugwasikana
na twazyeenzya kabotu zyaleka kuba amasato.
Majwi ninguzu alubo, nkaambo
kaboobo, chimwi chiindi zimwayamakani
mumasena asiyenesiyene nga zyeezya kukasyakasya na kulyatalyata nzila
zyakumwaya makani aatede kuluundu. Eechi teensi nchibotu pe, pesi cheeta ntenda
ntenda zitamani pe. Luundu lutakwe
luzibo lulimukakole katazwiki buuba pe.
Na kuti bamunichisi basowa lusyobo kububelesi bwazimwayamakani, nkokuti
twasweekelwa. Majwi ninguzu, pesi eezi zikonzya kuba kasimpe luzutu majwi
nakonzya kusaalila akusikila kunamunji.
Eezi tulazichita akuzwidilila na katuyanda mbuuli chisi. Ndalumba.
Ndilajatika a 0712 764 039
aa 0773 507 435 aalugwalomulilo: gracein5@yahoo.com
POETRY
Paradox
To A Child
(How many mothers stay in abusive relationship for their children)
By Batsirai Chigama
There is something about
Harare in spring that reminds me
Of my mother
Harare in spring is...bellisma
Beautiful
She is fresh and regal
The smile of her Jacaranda bloom
Flirts with hope and new beginnings
Carrying the scent of promise
Telling yesterday’s barrenness
To take flight
At quarter past October
She wears the scarlet lipstick of flamboyance
Bold, daring
Enticing to the sojourners,
She wraps them in her charm
sends them home enthralled
Yet to me her resident
She shuts her door right in my face
Telling me not to get to used
to her beautiful ways
For soon like the purple bloom,
her smile will fall
Withered, sometimes downtrodden
I know a truth the sojourner doesn’t
Inside her Harare is wounded
She internally bleeds sewer
Down the throats of her children
Their faces wear a permanent frown
That cannot be undone.
I say this because
For too long ma,
You’ve worn a culture up your sleeve
thread-bare like seams
Hesitant thoughts and words
That never learn to crawl
Let alone take flight from your tongue
Beneath endless chores
You are buried
Only a chore-mover can dig you out
of a debris that strongly smells of pain
There in the depths of it, your beauty too
Fell and downtrodden has withered into
One big grin longing to curve into a smile
There are stories your
pillows would tell
if they could
they would
tell
how many buckets of tears
have drowned them
how many buckets of tears have drowned you
The ceiling and walls
quietly have grown ears
Tired of the insults hurled at you
In the middle of the night
Doors banging
His car start in the middle of the night
they can’t hold from us, your muffled cries
a deep sadness descends upon your shoulder
clings to your lonely silence
like the choking smell of burnt popcorn.
Desperation crouches under your tongue
seeking to be spit like morning sickness
it cannot be told, we feel it, we see it
for you recoil into self
Widening the distance between us
yet we know you endure all this
for us, Mimi and I
Can you believe
as young as she is she asked me
“Do you think dad would still love her
if we had not been born?”
I had wondered the same too
Would it make a difference
Because if it does
We would simply crawl back in your womb
Just to put that infectious smile on your face
If only you could
In this instance
Walk through that door
he knows to use so much
And never look back
You would know
We would still
Tug at the hem of your heart
Just to see that beautiful smile
We miss so much and
Like the Jacaranda bloom
We would hold you in our minds
A seasonal freshness
That permanently lingers
Like your love
If only you could
In this instance
Walk through that door
he knows to use so much
And never look back
Confessions
of a Fly On The Wall
By Rudorwashe Kanukamwe (above)
They say I am the enemy
for I am the fly on the wall
but I see
I realize
the woman
in this one little room
has given in to her marriage.
The little room
of torture and tears
yet she walks in
she lies down
breast to the floor
while I, the fly
rest and stretch my legs on the walls
She knows the minute of violence
When it comes
she raises her head
fatigue
cracks her neck
the chorus of lamentation
reaches the children
whose questions receive no
answers
but they see and they know
I, the fly, heard them talk.
His huge shadow grinds to nothing
the children’s pride of family
She tries to hide it from them
the years of pain
but I, the fly,
know much of what she has gone
to call her my heroine
I, the fly,
Will rip the wall apart for her freedom
ANSWERS
& WINNERS
A few days ago we thought of
having some fun by initiating a mini-competition where we ask questions about
Zimbabwean writers and their works and give away book prizes. Well, we realize
this shall go on in every newsletter.
The first question we asked was:
what is the title of the Shona language novel that was first published in
Zimbabwe and when was it published? Who wrote it?
We can openly say we didn’t get
many responses via email but a few people chose to answer right on Facebook. No
problem.
The answers we were looking for
are: Feso, written by Prof Solomon Mutsvairo and published in 1956.
All answers we got were correct
except for the year of publication. Feso was published in 1956 and not 1957, or
1963. And therefore our winner is….LAURA CHIWESHE! She got every question correct. Laura, you win
yourself a Write Idea book, check
with us.
Our second question was: which anthology by Memory Chirere carries
a story with a character Tadamuhwa and what’s the title of this story?
This was difficult, we can
imagine, possibly because some of these books are not readily available to many
young authors. We got no response for this question. We are taking it off and replacing it without
running away from Chirere.
Our next question is:
Which
book did Memory Chirere co-edit which tackles Charles Mungoshi’s works? Tell us
the publisher and year of publication.
Reading
is Power!
***
WIN
"unclipping wings of the imagination"
