Beaven Tapureta : Bookshelf
Two female Zimbabwean writers Monica Cheru-Mpambawashe and Mercy Dhliwayo are featured in an introspective regional anthology titled “Nothing to See Here”, edited by Hilda Twongyeirwe and published last year. “Nothing to See Here” consists of short stories by sixteen women writers who took part in the fifth FEMRITE Regional Residency for African Women Writers held in Ghana. In the stories, Africa’s political, socio-economic plight is observed in dramatically challenging perspectives. Women, at times, are at the center of this anthology whose analysis of society is deep and yet balanced.
Cheru-Mpambawashe seems to be successfully experimenting with the short story in both English and Shona languages. The writer has also appeared in a Shona short story anthology “Makore Asina Mvura” (Bhabhu Books) with her story “Zviroto”. In this latest anthology, her story “My Fault” confirms her deeply engaging style of inviting the reader to travel with a character down the lane of what one poet called the ‘in-scape’, meaning the interior of the mind. Her female characters, young or old, are ‘awakening’ to some reality in their lives when the damage has already been done.
In “My Fault”, a woman in a violent marriage does not act while there is still time. When she is beaten by lustful husband Ray, he blames her for making him angry. She sustains injuries and visits the clinic only to be blamed by the doctor for not reporting the ‘brute’ to the police.
Her mother finds fault in her for challenging her husband or if she decides to leave him. Ray’s sister and other relatives cannot give her an ear. When Ray is dying of AIDS, father-in-law blames her for bewitching his son because he had left her for another better woman. Ray dies, she is isolated, and gets little from her husband’s estate. Her friend Sarah blames her for not having registered her marriage in the first place.
In the end, though, the story uplifts as she, instead of being downcast when finds out she is HIV-positive, she gets courage to move on.
“I have wasted too many years on self-pity. I have a lot of happiness to catch up on, laughter to let out and smiles to flash. I have plenty of love to give and receive,” she declares.
Mercy Dhliwayo’s story “The American” makes you realise that there are certain ‘beauties’ about one’s country which are often left for foreigners to admire and draw inspiration from while the locals spend much time ‘complaining’. The story addresses very pertinent economic issues as well as inter-cultural relationships in conflict with personal dreams.
Chenje, in love with the American named Antonio, has her own ulterior reason for being in love. Meanwhile, cultures clash at a family meeting organised to introduce the new lovers.
Antonio, a musician, comes wearing “his faded blue track pants with ‘New York City’ printed downwards on the left leg and that school uniform-like khaki shirt with little prints of the marijuana plant all over as well as a portrait of Marcus Garvey on the front. His hair, as usual, was uncombed, and thus beginning to entangle into locks”.
Chenje simply wants to use Antonio to get to America, to get away from this place she considers poor, yet he is serious about building home in Zimbabwe.
“You already have so much here. Perhaps you need to stop comparing yourself to everyone and just be content with what you have. This is where I wanna be. I am free here,’ he tells her.
“The American” sharply contrasts with another story “Phoenix” by Famia Nkasa in which a student is aboard the British Airways idealising about her newfound ‘heaven’ abroad where she will be pursuing her academic dream. Unlike the reckless Chenje in “The American”, twenty year old Dalilah in “Phoenix” has an understandable, unrushed purpose for going abroad. Chenje, after secretly withdrawing Antonio’s money from her account, leaves for America.
Unfortunately, she is arrested at the airport in China when she is found with marijuana, how she took it with her simply crashes her dream into irreconcilable splinters.
If all men in a childless marriage were like the man in “Sausage Tree” by Grace Neliya Gardner, homes would be peaceful heavens. For ten years, Mazuwa has wished to have a baby of her own. Even though her loving husband Getemani calls her ‘his tall black beauty of grace”, she thinks her “black beauty has a great grief”. She admires her pregnant friend Tomaida and this desperation tortures her until one night in a dream, perhaps because of the faith and unconditional love existent in her home, she is given the answer to her grief by a sausage tree.
In a number of stories in this anthology the extremity of characters’ actions in a bid to express how they feel, whether they are right or wrong feelings, leaves you open-mouthed in surprise. In her comment about the anthology, writer Zukiswa Warnner notes this present element of the ‘absurdity’.
In the short story “Queen of Pearls’ by Linda Nkwoma Masi, a character named Favour, who grows up under the care of Mama, gets jealous of Sotonye another child whom Mama brings into the house after picking it up at the dumpsite, abandoned. Sotonye later becomes blind but she is always mentioning things Favor hadn’t thought of doing for Mama for all the love she has shown for abandoned children. Favour, forgetting she once was abandoned, acts irresponsibly towards Sotonye. Sotonye dies after Favor consciously leaves her to eat a diarrhea-ridden fruit!
And then a hopeless 52-year old woman in “Alletjie Always” by Karen Jennings is bothered by always being ordered around and taking care of men who cannot take care of themselves. How she decides to ‘punish’ her husband puzzles. At the nearby old mine, there is a dangerous bottomless pit which she wishes could devour her husband. She lets the goats out in a storm and orders her husband to go and fetch them, hoping that he will fall into the pit and perhaps, when he is injured, she may earn some disability money! In “The Do-Gooders” by Laura Kibuitsile, a woman cannot stand the pretentious help which a certain church has come to give. While you expect her to be grateful as she is poor, she smashes the groceries against the walls, cursing the church! Some parts of Africa have seen the issue of succession taking much of space in the media. Author Hilda Twongyeirwe handles this theme creatively in her story “Baking the National Cake” which exposes scenes taking place behind the President who has announced his retirement.
With captivating language, the authors bring out what society belittles as ‘non-issues’. Interesting how in the story “People of the Valley” by Makhosazaa Xaba a radio programme excellently puts across a situation of Matron Langa, a woman alleged to have been keeping women’s placentas in her freezer, or how a telephone conversation in “Always the Head” by Mellisa Kiguwa brings out concerns about migration, identity and the same story adeptly shifts to a broken heart.
Other stories in this gripping anthology are “Nothing To See Here” by Davina Kawuma, “Reconstruction” by Doreen Anyango, “Mama Dearest” by Lisa-Anne Julien, “The Silent Laugh” by Olufunke Ogundimu, “Happiness” by Balaji Odofin, and “Shortcut” by Sylvia Schlettwein.



