On This Year's African Booker

It was a good thing the Caine Prize people thought it right to put out the shortlists on their website. I, like many handicapped literary enthusiasts, would have mastered story titles, perhaps fantasize about their text and waited till the clincher is announced late July. But instead, this year is better and by God, I have the five stories downloaded into my little laptop, all for my enjoyable consumption.
So I started out with End Of Skill, the Ghanaian story trashed by Toni Kan. Kan did put this story down, below Chikwava’s Dancing to the Jazz Goblin and His rhythms which I was opportune to read in a ride out the back of Tade Ipadeola’s friend car after a writer’s meet at The Palms. But reading through Kabu’s story about a weaver who sold his father’s legacy and passion for western currencies, I concluded that the story was not entirely as weak as Kan purported it to be, although the romance with weaving was in excess and of little import to the progression of plot and its denouement. In other words, if we excise Kabu’s ramblings on Kente and spice what is left, we still have his good story, which is obviously not my Caine Prize winner.
Next on my list is Waiting, E.C Osondu’s second chance to clinch the prize he narrowed missed with Jimmy Carter’s eyes in 2007. I was somewhat disappointed that his AGNI published story didn’t win and I can’t proffer reasons because I didn’t read the other entries. But Waiting, I must say, is not as strong as Jimmy Carter’s Eyes. Never. In his romance with refugee children and their plights, Osondu chronicled in his usual straight albeit short prose his imaginations which I find sympathetic but shallow. Personally, I was not moved. And I doubt if the judges would be.
Next is Parselolo Kantai’s story, You Wreck Her. Parselolo comes highly recommended so as I gunned down his scripted thoughts I couldn’t but feel refreshed reading through his gospel on an already trite theme. It’s refreshing perhaps because of unique narrative. There was an elusive manner in which the story began but the story holds through for the reader to immense in the writer’s recesses and the empathy generated in the reader’s mind is neither induced by the writer’s choice of words or the mood portrayed. With so much said, its safe to conclude that the story is a favourite.
But not so fast, Mukoma wa Ngugi also told a good tale, How Kamau wa Ngugi escaped into Exile. I find that title exasperating but it was while reading these stories I found how perfectly edited these stories were, if not for anything, I think it’s a fine reason they made the shortlist. Kamau comes as a fugitive activist fleeing from the enforcement agencies who sought him and in his escape in goes through a lot that exposed to the reader the depth and the gory details of the inhuman experiences he fought against. I liked the feel of love in the story that was soon threaded behind the serious fabric of its themes.
Last but not the least is Alistair Morgan’s story which also came highly recommended and which I think would be a popular choice. Personally, I respect this product of his narrative and if history is anything to go by, the last winner was also South African. The story written in first person in the opening lines got me questioning what African sensibilities it appealed to? I thought it was well written but could have passed as western prose touching on themes like gruesomeness of reality. I was, I must admit, a little too quick to pass judgment, for the story built into an African sensibility. However, the genius of Alistair’s craft can be based on his dwelling more on how human adapt to his theme rather than running graffiti on their actual gruesome consequences. I reiterate that it’s probably the popular choice, but we must wait till July to know the true clincher.