“I feel it’s best to look at this story critically from two angles. The first is the merits of the writing, which should of course remain paramount. In this, Tubosun does very well. He captures the dry absurdity of a potentially terrible situation, and the ending is remarkable in its pathos. I believed both the matter-of-fact and slightly sympathetic tone of the nurse, and I believed the narrator’s feelings when he hoped he did not have the illness, but suspected that, because of his life and where he lived, he might. Tubosun alternates between writing with very plain, ordinary language, such as when a conversation occurs, and larger, quite grand sentences which seek to encompass the tumultuous shifts of emotions experienced by the narrator. He is adept at both, and perhaps most importantly, knows when to use which. When the narrator talks to the nurse, the writing becomes short and sharp because the narrator himself is tense with anticipation, he must be calm, because if he is not – collapse. When he retreats within himself, his conscious is allowed to expand, and so, too, does the writing, Tubosun’s sentences uncoiling like languorous snakes willing to take their time to reach their destination.”
teaching. language. travel
In a few days time, a new book will hit the shelves all over the world. It’s African Roar! It is a collection of short stories written by authors from different countries in Africa. As the name suggests, it is an African roar! Do you hear the rumbles?
My first published story, first titled The First Test has now been published in the anthology as Behind the Door. It is a story of one man in contemplation while going through the aisle of a private hospital.
But African Roar has more than just one story. From Novuyo Rosa’s Big Pieces, Little Pieces to Ayodele Morocco Clarke’s The Nestbury Tree to Beaven Tapureta’s Cost Of Courage, Chuma Nwokolo’s QuarterBack & Co and Ivor W. Hartmann’s Lost Love, the collection takes you onto imaginative plains and hills, and all the eleven stories leave you with an exhilaration that you can only get from the little pleasures of the other person’s imagination. Other stories in the collection are Yesterday’s Dog by Masimba Musodza, Cost Of Courage by Beaven Tapureta, A Cicada In The Shimmer by Christopher Mlalazi, A Return To The Moonlight by Emmanuel Sigauke, Truth Floats by Nana A. Damoah’s and Tamale Blues by Ayesha H. Attah. Each of the stories tells something of the African experience, and more.
The stories that make up the work were all drawn from the very best stories published from 2007-2009 on the Story Time website. The anthology is published by Lion Press Ltd UK, and is edited by Ivor Hartmann and Emmanuel Sigauke. It will be available on Amazon, Barnes & Nobles and some physical book stores worldwide in a few days. It will also be available on the Kindle.
You may follow the twitter feeds of African Roar at http://www.twitter.com/africanroar and on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/African.Roar for more information. Autographed copies will also be available, I’m sure, as soon as possible.
I’m ex… ex… excited. Are you?
I knew that sooner than later someone was going to write my name wrongly.
I was already used to being called “Caller” instead of “Kola” so I already gave up on the pronunciation part. But when it came to writing, I have tried my best to let everyone know that my surname was spelt with just one “n”. Everyone in Nigeria that is. For some reason I couldn’t fathom for a very long time, my Yoruba/Nigerian counterpart always spelt my surname as OLATUNBOSUN with that extra “n”, and it always set me on edge. Even when properly written, an overzealous receptionist in all my schooling in Nigeria was always going to add that “n” at that exact place, much to my chagrin.
As I grew up, I learnt to live with that fact. When I opened my email address: kolatubosun AT yahoo.com, many of even my close friends sent my mails to kolatuNbosun AT yahoo.com and I never got them back. One day, the poor owner of that other address took pity on me and sent me many of the mails wrongly addressed to him. When I moved to Gmail, I moved to prevent any further losses by opening another address at kolatuNbosun AT gmail.com just to cater for all the misaddressed mails. It turned out to be good decision. As I joined Facebook, I came across the same situation, when many of those who should have known me better always claimed not to be able to locate me online because when they keyed in Kola OlatuNbosun, it didn’t bring them to my page. I apologised, and promptly registered a new one which is now dormant except for the acceptance of those occasional friendship requests.
I am thinking back on those times today because on looking closely at my name written on my fridge, basket of fruits and International Hospitality Program packet, I found that it was written, not as Kolawole OlatuNbosun this time, but as Kolawole OlatunbosuM. I really don’t mind, because this time, I know it is a typo.
I can’t win them all.