Tsitsi Dangarembga, a talented novelist and filmmaker
Reading is addictive and it is almost impossible to resist the tempatations of Nervous Conditions, a novel so well-crafted and meaningful that it is defined as one of the best ten books to be written by an African.
It was first published three decades ago but it continues to receive critical acclaim and is taught in schools worldwide.
By the way, do you know any writers from the African content? Let’s take a quick quiz to test your knowledge on this topic.
Quiz
One last question.
Who wrote Nervous Conditions? Any idea?
The author of this literary gem is Tsitsi Dangarembga and she was born in Rhodesia (present-day Zimbabwe) in 1959. She was the first black woman from her country to publish a novel in English. Can you believe that this was only in 1988?
Nervous Conditions is certainly Dangarembga’s most recognised/recognisable piece of work. In 1989, the book grabbed the Commonwealth Writers’ Prize and, as previously mentioned, its popularity has not waned. The BBC considers it as one of the top 100 books to have changed our world.
Tambudzai is the strongwilled heroine of this book. We see her struggle to acquire a proper education in Rhodesia (present-day Zimbabwe) during a time when women’s education was not readily available and valued. Throughout the story she continuously fights against racial and patriarchal prejudice in order to achieve just a fraction of her dreams.
Since then, Dangarembga has written two more semi-biographical books entitled The Book of Not( 2006) and This Mournable Body (2018) respectively.
She has also directed seminal films that champion women’s and children’s rights such as Everyone’s Child (1996) and Growing Stronger (2005).
Let’s read an extract from her newest book This Mournable Body:
“Mangwanani, Maiguru! Marara here?” Anesu and Panashe chorus as you enter one morning soon after the outing to the cinema.
You step over the glistening annelids on the floor and pick up a bottle of filtered water, which you empty into the kettle.
“Panashe, for goodness’ sake, get on with it.” Nyasha scowls at her son, appearing not to have heard your murmured greeting. Your nephew stares back at his mother, who, day by day, is growing more frazzled.
Anesu swallows a mouthful of porridge, wearing a contemplative expression.
“You sometimes have a tummy ache, right?” she asks her brother eventually.
Your niece keeps examining her brother. A drop balances on the rim of his eye, then splashes out.
“You have one now, don’t you?” Anesu demands. “It’s hurting, isn’t it?”
A flood of tears soaks Panashe’s face.
Anesu turns to her mother and says in an accusing voice, “You see, it’s when you shout at him in the morning. That’s why. It makes his tummy hurt.”
“I didn’t shout,” says Nyasha curtly. She slits open a packet of red sausages that she intends to pack for her children’s snacks.
“You did, Mama,” an adamant Anesu points out. “That’s why he hasn’t done his shoelaces.”
“You, young lady, and you too, Panashe, get on with it,” Nyasha orders. “I’ll do the shoelaces when he’s finished eating. He’s got to get some breakfast inside him.”
Anesu balances her spoon on the edge of her plate. “It’s only because he’s frightened,” she says.
She takes another mouthful of porridge before she continues, “He’s done them before. He just doesn’t want to go to school today. That’s why he can’t remember how to do it. He doesn’t want his tummy to ache. Mama, his teacher makes his tummy ache too because she always hits the children.”
Your cousin dabs a red sausage with kitchen paper, packs it in cling wrap, as though she has been concentrating on the task too intently to hear. A moment later, she puts the food down in shock.
“Hits? The little ones?”
“In Germany it is illegal,” says Cousin-Brother-in-Law.
Your cousin looks as though she is about to sob, once again situating herself beyond your understanding. Weeping alongside a first grader—even nearly doing so—is a nauseating act of ghastly femininity. You have no desire to expend energy on sympathy for a minor matter of corporal punishment. Women in Zimbabwe are undaunted by such things.
Your cousin, on the other hand, has been enfeebled by her sojourns first in England then in Europe. Acquiring a degree in political science at London School of Economics, another in filmmaking in Hamburg, and coming back to Zimbabwe where no one wants her to have either has caused her disposition to grow yet more fanciful. Zimbabwean women, you remind yourself, know how to order things to go away.
They shriek with grief and throw themselves around. They go to war. They drug patients in order to get ahead. They get on with it. If one thing doesn’t turn out, a Zimbabwean woman simply turns to another. Your head overflowing with such thoughts, you are pleased that your meeting with Tracey and your subsequent peace of mind over it prove that you are a true Zimbabwean woman. You suppress a shudder of pity for your cousin, who, notwithstanding her education and ideals, will never amount to anything. Nyasha does not belong. Like her husband, she is a kindly import. For the first time in your life you feel significantly superior.
Nyasha walks across to Panashe and pulls his head to her stomach as though she believes that the other side of it is the only place the little boy will be safe. Since he is sitting at the breakfast table, this is uncomfortable for your nephew, but he endures.
“Because of our past, we are people who understand how instincts can easily become brutal,” says Cousin-Brother-in-Law. “We know such a thing must be stopped before it begins. We do not allow teachers to beat other people’s children. Nobody is allowed to beat children.”
“How are the children taught?” you ask. “How do they learn anything?”
Would you like to read any of her work? Have you read any fiction from Zimbabwe? If so, what do you think about this type of literature? You can read her groundbreaking novel “Nervous Conditions” by buying it here. You can also find her other books here.
Further Exploration: (Tsitsi Dangarembga)
Download PDF File to learn more about Tsitsi Dangarembga and This Mournable Body.
Read:
- African Fiction: Lesson 1-Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, a Fearless and Influential Writer
- African Fiction: Lesson 2-Chigozie Obioma, between Modernity and Tradition
- African Fiction: Lesson 3-NoViolet Bulawayo, a Literary Darling
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About the Author
Thandi Ngwira Gatignol is the founder of Learn English With Africa. She was born on June 11th, 1981 in Blantyre, Malawi. When she was 19, she left her country of birth for France. She currently lives with her two daughters and husband in Poland.
Thandi holds a Bachelor’s degree in English studies obtained at the Université Paris X Nanterre in France and a Certificate in Journalism from Malawi. She has taught English as a French Ministry of Education certified teacher both in France and in Poland. She speaks six languages fluently, including French, Polish and Italian. She is now learning Kiswahili, German and Spanish. Salt No More is her debut novel and you can find her other books here on the website or on Amazon.
Course Title: African Fiction: Lesson 4-Tsitsi Dangarembga, the Mother of Zimbabwean Literature (Level B1-B2)© Learn English With Africa, May 2019
