If your class is doing ‘Somewhere in This Country’ for A level Zimsec Paper 2, you can order from a Harare book distributors:
Best Books9 Windermere Lodge
Mazowe Street
Harare
Zimbabwe
Tel: +263-4-797139/
mobile: + 263772977593
And… below here are some useful notes for teaching the book:
1.Book Review
Reviewer: Jerry Zondo
In a recent interview with a local paper Memory Chirere says he has always preferred reading and writing short stories over anything else. A good short story, he reckons, ‘pricks like the doctor’s needle. You read and re-read until you do not know whether you are still just reading or are now recreating without the author’s permission.’
When you read his first collection of short stories called Somewhere In This Country, you experience this fatal prick. Intentions of characters cannot be easily fulfilled and death is such an eternal reality in Chirere’s stories. For example in Keresenzia, a minor called Keresenzia is a whirlwind of a character for she can easily kill. The boy Batsirai in Watching makes you wonder if he will not drop the axe against his father’s neck. Will he strike, or should the reader be positive and see his ‘chasing’ of his parents in the positive - a need to reconcile than to revenge?
The reality in Chirere literature is harsh, thrilling, bloody, bashing the reader’s interest into a deep-seated realisation that all of life is not friendly and sweet. The adze, in Sitting Carelesly, would painfully cut the artist whose visit to the clinic will reveal that he is of no fixed abode, instead of producing a beautiful wood sculpture. A young child – Jazz – wishes she could have a family by locking up a man dating her mother; she has to have somebody to call dad! Chirere would probably have that child winning because she is too young and too hopeful to lose!
But Somewhere In This Country can also be funny and can attack you with the mischievous and the spontaneous. Two men are ‘married’ to one woman in Two Men and a Woman. They do not exactly fight over her because they are not rivals at all. Sometimes they talk long into the night, not keen to decide who goes in to join her in bed tonight. This dreamy story leaves you wondering if there is any sexual contact between each of these two men and the woman tthat hey are tied to. The story happens inside the minds of the three deeply attached characters and very little happens physically. Reading it is like walking in a foggy vlei in the morning, bumping into familiar but long forgotten objects.
In Maize, which is a masterpiece, an obscure land hungry man admires a spinster who is newly resettled. He keeps on turning up at the woman’s ‘acres’ and begins to spread word that he is the woman’s husband. One day he pretends to forget his old suitcase in her hut so that he has an excuse to return next time. He keeps on coming back for this or that item and as this happens, the maize crop in the woman’s field is growing and their love for each other is growing. Finally they are together without even a single -I love you- word!
The typical Chirere story comes from the suburb (location), the local graveyard, the road and roadside, the farmhouse, the rural area, the urban setting, the streets – basically the human being and places where she can be found or was previously located (and Chirere’s human beings move a lot). In all such places the human being and such animals around her, survives and loves, hates, kills, makes love, procreates, succeeds, dies and is buried.
Each of these short stories is extremely brief, maybe the shortest by any Zimbabwean writer, but they take you through very weighty experiences. For Chirere, a short story is a just tumultuous episode in the life of a character. What is short is the narration not the experience being dwelt upon.
Memory Chirere is considered to be one of the leading literary voices to have emerged out of Zimbabwe in the so called decade of crisis (1998-2010). He shares that spot with the likes of Wonder Guchu, Ignatius Mabasa, Noviolet Bulawayo, Petina Gappah, Christopher Mlalazi and others. He has also published two other short story books: Tudikidiki (2007) and Toriro and his Goats and Other Stories (2010) which have both won NAMA awards. Beyond his creative work, Chirere has compiled and edited various other short story books; Totanga Patsva (an all-women short story book), Children Writing Zimbabwe (a book of short stories for children by children).
(this article appeared on: http://www.panorama.co.zw/index.php/perspective/226-book-review-somewhere-in-this-country.html)
2.'MEMORY Chirere’s ‘Somewhere In This Country’ and the psyche of African Memory'
By Ruby Magosvongwe, University of Zimbabwe
Somewhere In This country (2006), Memory Chirere's first short story collection published as part of the Memory and African Cultural Productions Series by UNISA Press, offers refreshing and complex insights into the psyche of African memory, largely from a ‘children's’ perspective.
Set in both the pastoral and cityscapes of Zimbabwe, the collection of 21 short stories in all takes one onto the road to explore and discover the world and challenges of a burning desire for belonging, reconnection and rootedness that a good number of the protagonists show.
KERESENZIA: The grotesque images that ‘Keresenzia’ and ‘Somewhere’ offer about Keresenzia's and the old man's obsession to link and reconnect with the country leaves one in a maze. Why does this become the central theme in the writer's perspective? This is one critical concern that the African Cultural Production Series sets out to explore.
That the short story collection opens with the horrifying story that debunks the whole idea of children's innocence in the manner that it talks about Keresenzia's brutality towards Matambudziko, her grandmother, is deliberate. The story has several layers of meaning. On the surface, one is confronted with an ingrate orphan who is ruthless and cold to the point of violently abusing and brutally killing her sole guardian, Matambudziko, by striking her with the handle of a hoe without any trace of prior provocation. Matambudziko's incessant efforts to pacify Keresenzia's anger, bitterness and ruthlessness by disclosing the source of her psychological wounds, lead to her death. At a deeper level, Keresenzia's constant demands for attention are indicative of her psychic and spiritual yearning to know her roots and to belong. Beneath the seething anger and antics of brutal emotional hurt she directs at Matambudziko is a deep spiritual void and yearning for rootedness and identity that Matambudziko cannot keep pushing into oblivion.
Interestingly, the harder Matambudziko tries to plaster over the cracks about Keresenzia's past, the more depressed Keresenzia becomes. From the moment Keresenzia names the cause of her distress – orphanhood – she assumes subjectivity by naming her grandmother Matambudziko, which is translated to mean ‘Troubles’ in English. She is determined to torment Matambudziko until she relates the tale of her biological parents, thus giving a legitimate claim to her connection with the pastoral environment she finds herself in. Keresenzia wants to know her real identity, where she hails from, who she really is and how she connects with the present in terms of both time and space. This knowledge will help her psychologically in discovering herself.
Her desire to know the history of her current status of marginalization through orphanhood, and to know about her biological lineage, drives her berserk. Her quest is indicative of a burning desire for rootedness and spiritual connectedness. The craving for this knowledge that Matambudziko withholds becomes almost maniacal, laying bare the contradictions and challenges that riddle the young generation's quest to link with its past. Keresenzia ends up killing the only guardian she knows! Should young people have to kill in order to discover themselves? How much about the missing historical narratives and cultural memory should the older generations expose or insist on withholding from them in the process of the younger generation's identity formation and quest for subjectivity in their lives? ‘Keresenzia’ keeps insisting on Toni Morrison's concept of re‐memory that demands that the younger generation's present identity, both in terms of geophysical space and psycho‐spiritual space, be defined in line with theirancestral history. Just as Ali Mazrui argues about the hazards of Africa's short memory and the desire to bury festering wounds about Africa's historical past, similarly, Chirere's Keresenzia is a sordid reminder that there are no shortcuts in dealing with the scars of a people's historical past. It is Matambudziko's blindness in trying to shield Keresenzia from the wounds of her past that drives the young woman to murder – and her loss of childlike innocence.
Without addressing the cause of the anger and bitterness that the protagonist harbours as shown in this short story, without explaining the absence of the lost generation the protagonist wishes to know more about, Africa faces a blighted future. It is as if the story argues that it is important that the missing chips in Africa's historical narratives be accounted for so that the child of Africa may freely discover itself; being bludgeoned into a predetermined mode will only blight the young person's future as well as that of the African continent.
SOMEWHERE: Similarly, the yearning for spiritual reconnection by the old man in his desire to revisit the hills of his childhood pastoral environment in ‘Somewhere’ cannot be quenched: neither by the luxurious life of the Americas nor the pampered existence of the city. The bundle of senility under the quilt suddenly comes to life when the driver and his brother get to the precincts of the hills; this takes his companions, as well as the reader, by surprise. It is as if Chirere is insinuating that the old man has no difficulty in rediscovering himself, to the extent of wrenching authority from the driver and driving the unfamiliar vehicle on the crown of the road without any incident once he reconnects with his childhood terrain and environment. The agility of the old man and the quick reversal of roles is so dramatically captured that it leaves the reader in stitches. Unlike the violence in ‘Keresenzia’, ‘Somewhere’ closes on a hilarious note.
MAIZE: ‘Maize’ focuses on the contentious subject of land contestation and reclamation that saw the liberation struggle galvanizing and mastering the support of the disinherited indigenous black Africans. The story focuses on the joyous privilege of land ownership by a newly‐settled black farmer in Zimbabwe. In the narrator's own words, it ‘speaks about human presence and settlement’ (p. 65) and the bliss of ownership and creativity that comes with the privilege of subjectivity in freed space(s).
Ironically, however, the resettlement of the landless black is fraught with irregularities and contradictions. In an unassuming manner in ‘Sitting Carelessly’, Chirere explores the fate of the former migrant labourer, now displaced by the new farmer, an ‘alien’ with less right to the land than his black sisters/brothers who have some ancestral claim to the ‘vacated’ land! The alien is now viewed as an illegal settler and is evicted together with his former boss/owner to make way for the rightful owners of the land. After displacement he survives by squatting on the roadside and makes a living through sculpture and vending at the country's major exit and entry points. The story thus also explores the contradictions and complexities that need sophisticated and yet pragmatic alternatives so that the country's stability can be maintained. With every opportunity of correcting the anomalies of Africa's colonial past there are challenges that African political leaders must anticipate. This story has a message of serious import; there are the grave challenges of resettlement in Africa. And yet the seriousness is overshadowed by the innocence and simplicity of the title; Memory Chirere's sense of mischief and satiric humour are very apparent here. Who wouldn't want to hear more about someone who sits carelessly?
THE PRESIDENTIAL GOGGLES: ‘The Presidential Goggles’ is yet another short story dealing with a sacred subject – that of succession and ideological continuity in the African political space. It sees Chirere experimenting with style and form in his dramatic and scenic division of the episodes in the development of the ousted president's mimicry of his former hold on power. It is ludicrous that the adage – once a teacher, always a teacher – seemingly applies to this ousted former head of state. He cannot come to terms with his now‐destitute status and his anachronistic and therefore undesirablepresence. Having outlived his relevance, even in the lives of his own children, the ousted president is relegated to a mental asylum where the new generation are justified in keeping him. As perceived by many of his critics and opponents, rather than being an asset to his own country and nation, the old man has become a liability. It is ironic that in spite of the allegation that he has long outlived his welcome and is regarded as a political burden to his people, the old president still commands a following.
Whilst the new political leadership and the men in dark suits who claim to be his biological offspring search for him high and low (for he has become a threat to the survival of his nation), the old man is busy addressing a rally somewhere in the city! The repeated dramatizations of these episodes through the curt dialogue between the characters in the story mask the authorial voice, thereby giving collective authorship and ownership of this people's socio‐historical narrative. At the end of the day Chirere shows the subjectivity of the people taking charge of the political direction their country should take. It is risky for them to leave things to chance, yet there is also still a measure of sympathy for the senile president in the playful dramatization of episodes in this narrative.
Could Chirere be casting a spell on the Zimbabwean political leadership, who may be perceived to have conveniently forgotten about the philosophy of their own elders who saw positivity, continuity and enrichment of the communal collective in rotational leadership? In their wisdom, and rightly so, for the good of their own communal existence and survival, the Shona elders had a much revered maxim for those in public office: Ushe madzoro, hunoravanwa (Political headship is rotational and give each other a chance to have a bite of the cherry)! Strict adherence to this maxim kept autocratic leadership in check, pre‐empting civil strife and political leadership feuds. ‘Presidential Goggles’ offers in a refreshing and mischievous way this twist to political leadership on the African mainland. Talk about Amilcar Cabral's Return to the Source and the African academics' insistence on keeping the narratives about the nation alive and invigorating for the young generation!
The collection does not just dwell on the serious themes of historiography in its fictional narratives. Chirere also takes his readers through lighter moments that both the young at heart and the serious‐minded reader can enjoy. There are interesting stories about both country childhood and city childhood that readers will find entertaining and educative. For example ‘Missy’, ‘Three Little Worlds’ and ‘Jazz’ focus on the intricacies of the age‐old theme of love that tickles the young and old alike. ‘Missy’ tells of a country boy's obsession about his lady teacher and the innumerable antics he uses to catch her attention. Laying it all bare here will obviously take away the excitement that the story generates.
THREE LITTLE WORLDS: ‘Three Little Worlds’ also arouses excitement in the way that it explores the mysteries of efficiently and sufficiently minding the three worlds of a woman implicated in concurrent relationships. Just in case the readers of this series may be led to conclude that the writer is obsessed only with issues of the larger public sphere, one can enjoy reading how it is done on the Zimbabwean landscape by fleeting through these love stories! ‘Jazz’ offers the reader a rare opportunity to explore and experience with Emily the hurdles that the economically‐emancipated and culturally‐liberated female single parent faces in the life of Harare's avenues. Instead of listening to or playing jazz music, the reader meets with Jazz, Emily's five‐year‐old girl, who is music to Emily and her lover Joel.
Similarly, like ‘Jazz’, ‘An Old Man’ explores and exposes the challenges and brutality of life in the jungle that Harare's cityscape has become. The heartlessness of the life on the streets of Harare is shown through the demarcated turf that the street children have to religiously observe. For street children like Raji, Sami and Zhuwawo, the city turns out not to be an Eldorado, but a jungle where only the vicious can survive. One feels a chill when Zhuwawo, ‘identity‐less’ with no kin except Sami, with whom he shares the same turf, is run over by a van whilst crossing a busy street to invade Raji's turf in one of his bread‐scavenging escapades. Zhuwawo's death leaves Sami totally exposed and at the mercy of Raji, whose motivation for life seems to be geared to seeking revenge against any person who might have crossed his path. Raji's presence in the story bespeaks of a trail of violence because he is convinced that everyone owes him a living. This challenge of the street‐children legacy in Zimbabwe's history brings a certain embarrassment about Zimbabwe's social delivery system. On the surface, yes, the writer is talking about the predicament confronting the undesirable street urchins; but the same story shows worrisome cracks in Zimbabwe's social history. Will this ever be a desirable chapter in the cultural narratives of Zimbabwe's history?
Chirere's children also get space in ‘Beautiful Children’, where the narrator shows the ugliness of xenophobia in the way the Mozambican refugee child is exploited by a fellow black. One would want to find out for oneself what it is that makes these children strikingly beautiful when Ayi Kwei Armah writes about ‘The beautiful ones who are not yet born’. The story opens a can of worms, so to speak, in terms of civic education about the rights of the child and the general sympathy people must feel for each other as human beings. Chirere's story reflects the same theme of childhood destitution that Tsitsi Dangarembga's film, Everyone's child, shows. The short stories, by and large, take it upon themselves to challenge every reader to be introspective about how they have made their world a better place. Are these short stories only reminiscent of the Zimbabwean experience?
What is the point of engaging in hard politics of collective identity, spatial claims and issues of communal survival, or worse still to be locked up in stories about pitiful childhoods and xenophobia when the bang of life in you gushes out at ‘Sixteen’ and awaits personal exploration? One also can't afford to spoil one's sense of adventure and the suspense that ‘Tafara’ (We are delighted) offers! Both ‘Sixteen’ and ‘Tafara’ are set in Harare's high density suburbs; first hand experience of these will allow the reader to get a real feel of how the ordinary Zimbabwean citizens live on a day‐to‐day basis. Need this reviewer say more? Somewhere in this country offers the reader a spectacular opportunity to explore the highs and lows of Zimbabwe's social and cultural narratives together with the characters the reader meets on each fresh page! Definitely a must‐read.
3.'IDENTITY in Memory Chirere’s Somewhere in this Country'
(By Josephine Muganiwa)
Somewhere in this Country is a collection of short stories in English that capture Zimbabwean experiences. A running theme in all the stories seems to be identity. Chirere’s characters do not deal with colonial ascriptions per se but are well developed in a way that explores clearly all the nuances that shape their identities. This paper will focus on three stories; ‘Suburb’, ‘Sitting Carelessly’ and ‘Presidential Goggles’. These stories encourage a new way of looking at issues contrary to the official position thereby becoming protest literature.
‘Suburb’ is about a squatter camp on the outskirts of a town by a flowing river. The story is told from an insider perspective and hence the title ‘Suburb’is ironic. Chirere plays on situational irony. The residents of the new suburb are considered illegal settlers by the town planners as evidenced by the bulldozers that come to raze the place down. The plans were made by the colonizers without taking into consideration the needs of the indigenous people. That means the influx of people in search of employment after independence was unforeseen. Since the checks and balances put in place by the colonial government to keep blacks out of towns (pass laws) had been removed, accommodation problems increased. The so-called ‘native townships’ could not accommodate everyone. The low density accommodation was too expensive for the unemployed blacks and hence the rise of illegal settlements commonly known as squatter camps.
The contract that binds the settlers in the new ‘suburb’ has no colonial history but is based on utility and local agreement. Chirere captures this well;
"It all began in a small way. A man and his two friends discovered a
Certain old man with shaky hands and red eyes staying on the outskirts
By a slow flowing river. Out there by himself, with neither dream nor pains.
It didn’t take long to fix because the three men had a chat with the old man and the following day they carted their suitcases, primus-stoves, wives, children and other things and settled. They had founded a suburb. They would always remember how more and more people had trickled to this place, slowly but surely. It was a suburb and that is what they called it." (S.I.T.C. p10)
The old man discovered the place and has the right to accept or reject company. He is described in a way that makes his identity mysterious. His eyes are "red and his hands are shaky." The old man is without neither ‘dream nor pain’ because the attractions of city life do not entice him and neither does he have the pain of rentals, transport, and to be more contemporary, power cuts and water cuts. Implicit in the statement is that the old man is better placed than those that stay in the town. He does not like to talk about money and out in the ‘suburb’ there is little use for it enabling the wise to save:
"The old man didn’t like to talk about money either. When he did, it was to ask if you had made much out in town that day. If you happen to make much, look after it, he would insist. It is easy because there is no rent and electric bills out here, he would add." (S.I.T.C p10)
While it is difficult to make money one can live comfortably in the ‘suburb’ and while many in town dream of being home-owners, the settlers in the ‘suburb’ are proud owners of their homes:
"If you had never seen him enter his house, then you missed a fancy example of entering a house- sideways, bowing and sighing because the eaves were low and there was nowhere one could get zinc sheets long enough to build a house with a high door frame and a proper verandah." (p10)
The house is badly built because of poverty but Chirere celebrates this achievement and draws the reader to admire the way the old man is comfortable in his new surroundings. However, the word ‘sighing’ betrays a sense of longing. The old man, obviously, had a better life as exemplified by his “suits… particularly the corduroy one which everyone knew to be expensive.”
Whenever a squatter camp is mentioned, there is a tendency to think of its inhabitants in stereotypical fashion as thieves, prostitutes and thugs. Chirere gives a kaleidoscopic view of the inhabitants as decent people representing the cross section of society; the rich, the poor, the educated, the skilled and unskilled. The characters are not given names, except for Jack, Simon and Zacharia, because they represent anyone in similar circumstances. The characters are thus described as, “a man and his two friends”, a man with groceries, a man knocking to greet the old man, two men disagreeing and then making up, “a man who wore waistcoats and had a job in town”, a man in cyclist helmet, a man and a sullen faced woman, a young man who finds a job after a long search, two women whose father dies. The bulldozers bring workmen and gunmen. The only character who is specific is the old man and even he is shrouded in mystery in the style of magical realism. His response to the question of where he came from is “from all the corners”. The old man is the centre of life and inspiration for members of the ‘suburb’. One is reminded of Matigari in Ngugi wa Thiongo’s Matigari. He comes from everywhere, understands everyone’s pain and inspires them to hope for a better future.
The bulldozers pose a real threat to the inhabitants of the suburb and this is clearly highlighted in the following words:
"Several babies cried but no one bothered because there was the hungry sound of bulldozers to worry about. Soon, the bulldozers will get to the first house and wait till you see zinc tumbling, bricks giving way and the table and bed roll and crumble and someone’s fortunes and sweat come to naught..."(p13)
Ironically, the city fathers only see an unplanned settlement being removed, an eye-sore to the rich. The authorities are thus an impersonal authority that does not care about individual plight which includes lack of shelter and destruction of personal wealth and self-esteem. It is from this threat that the old man rescues the people. While everyone else is frightened, the old man remains calm and in control. Chirere writes;
"The old man advanced as comfortably as he does when going for a bath down to the river.
He came face to face with bulldozers and spread out his arms like a green eagle in flight. He shook his head….
The old man talked. The old man cried out and you agreed that some voices are extracts of thunder. He stamped the ground. He pointed in the direction pf the river, the suburb and at the sky. He hit his chest with a clenched fist and sagged down to the ground.
The suburb thought he had been ordered down but they saw him shoot up and begin to walk back towards them." (p13)
The theatrics described here are similar to a wizard casting a spell. It then raises questions on the identity of the old man. Is he a spirit medium? Is he a magician? Or is he, as hinted earlier, a former freedom fighter? Why do the bulldozers reverse and drive away because they had not known the old man was part of the suburb? Chirere deliberately weaves his story in such a way that these questions are not answered. If the old man has no magical powers then the corruption of the city’s laws is revealed. It shows that crime is only crime depending on who has committed it.
Sitting Carelessly deals with identity in terms of nationality. In this regard it is similar to Signs. Both stem out of the Land Redistribution Programme of 2001. Pempani is of Malawian descent but born second generation in Zimbabwe and hence has never been to the country of origin. The land redistribution programme renders him homeless on the technicality that he is not of Zimbabwean nationality and hence is not legible to be allocated land. Chirere explores the irony of this situation, centering on the need to provide an address at a clinic.
The story shows Pempani struggling to define who he is and his options of survival given his particular circumstances. All his life, Pempani’s identity has been premised on Acton farm which no longer exists. His dilemma is similar to that of the Negro in the United States of America after the abolition of slavery. Hitherto his identity had been premised on the Master. Pempani is distressed and says,
"Where will l go if you take the farm? You will take the farm and baas goes driving in his car, but where will l go? (...) My father’s father and my father came to this country from across the Zambezi. Black man like you. Black, like two combined midnights. See, my father worked here. My mother worked here. They are buried here. Their folks too: Alione, Chintengo, Anusa, Nyanje, Machazi, Mpinga, Zabron, Banda, Musa." (p76)
Having come to Rhodesia from the then Nyasaland to work in the farms, make a fortune and go back home. Pempani’s father fails because of the meager wages. He decides to die in Zimbabwe because he questions himself, “If l cross the Zambezi at this age, what will l show for my years this side of the river?”(p78). Unfortunately for Pempani, having relatives buried on the land does not make it his, because it belongs to the white man who usurped it from the blacks who want their land back. Pempani’s plight is similar to that of Povo’s mother in Mujajati’s The Wretched Ones whose husband is buried on Buffalo’s land But she is evicted. This explains Pempani’s appeal that he is also black, a call to put Pan- African theory into practice.
The term ‘home’ itself is not easy to define. Pempani’s family is split as his wife goes back to her people in Murehwa after the farm is taken. He fails to go with her because;
“I just don’t want’, you retort. You can hear the Murehwa villagers’ laughter. Laughing rudely and provocatively at a son-in-law from the farms who has brought his wife and all these children because he has nowhere to go. A man who can’t go back home across the Zambezi. Because of that, it begins with the jarring sound of an axe grinding. Home. Where is home? Across the Zambezi where grandpa came from? Home cant be where l know no river, valley, hill, stone…Where l haven’t dug the soil to sow a seed… You heard your father, one day, say to Anusa and Alione over a beer, “If l cross the Zambezi at this age, what will l show for my years this side of the river?”
Home explodes into the stitched throbbing thumb as you sit by a road that leads to Kariba." (p78)
In the above quotation home is defined in several ways: as where your spouse and children are, as your father’s house, where you have lived all your life, the physical terrain you know, what you have built with your own wealth and finally, shelter over your head. Each of these definitions is tied to a cultural norm of a particular people.
Pempani fails to join his wife in Murehwa because among the Zezurus it is improper for a real man to live in his father-in-law’s household. It implies that his wife is in control of what happens in the home. For the Malawians, who are matrilineal, that would not be much of an issue as it is common in their homeland. This difference in culture leads to Malawians being labeled stupid and effeminate. Pempani then resists fulfilling this stereotype even though his situation is desperate. The fact that his wife goes back to her father’s house shows that Pempani has failed as a man to provide for his family. His father similarly fails as he has nothing to take back home with him. Another cultural expectation is that one does not come back home empty handed except failures.
However, for Pempani, going across the Zambezi is not a solution for him. It is only a place where grandpa came from. The home he knows is Acton farm, whose soil he has dug and sown seeds, and the physical terrain he has explored. In this sense he is similar to John Hurston in Signs who is worried that the blacks will take away his home and farm which is an inheritance from
"Grandpa [who] came here from the wars and you know very well that they gave him and others this side of the river because you folks here could not work this heavy clay in summer. You get it?" (p74)
As far as Hurston is concerned, the land is his because he has been working it in the same way that Pempani feels the land is his. However Hurston’s situation is not as desperate as Pempani’s. He has money to buy other properties and move on. Hurston’s only desire is to protect family honour and not go down in history as the one who lost it;
"And moments later, he mournfully said, “How l wish Pa Rockie and Grandpa Peters were here with me when it finally happens. Lord, don’t let anything happen to Heinz. Am l the weak spot, God, God?” (p73)
The farm highlights the glory of Hurston (grandpa) having fought in the World War. It was a reward for white people displacing blacks, such as Marimo, who thus participate in the land redistribution cheerfully. Pempani and his people are caught in the crossfire having crossed the Zambezi as economic refugees with the hope to return. The injustice of the whole situation is the ironic twist of life that it never seems to turn out as planned. Both Pempani and John are victims of their grandparents’ adventures leaving them with an identity crisis. Are they really Zimbabweans? Where do they belong: a home they have never seen or the only the only home they have known? What are they to do when the people in the home they know insist that they do not belong? How are they to deal with such rejection?
Pempani ends up homeless, living by the roadside carving animals and selling them to tourists. Absent minded, thinking about his identity, he cuts himself and ends at a clinic where he has to put in words what he has been thinking about. The nurse gets angry at Pempani’s response that his name is Pempani Pempani. She thinks that he is making fun of her because culturally she is not used to such names which are common among the Malawians. Providing an address becomes a problem as noted below:
Place? One must come from a place? People, place, every time! But, how to say it when you are from Acton farm? And you can’t be from there now because everybody knows it was taken. “By the road. I come from a place by the road,” is all you can say. By the road where you carve human heads and kudus from tree trunks for sale to motorists who ride to Kariba.Neither can you say Murehwa because that is only where your wife and children are, at her parents’ place. But you must say something, at least. Earrings is waiting, cant you see?
Selling wood carvings is not easy either as it is dependent on Madame’s mood or how one reacts to her ‘sitting carelessly’. In the end Pempani decides to go back to the land and get allocation. To the question, “Who are you?” by the official:
“That is a long question to ask,” says Pempani, “But l will answer.”
The story ends on this note, Pempani giving a quick response unlike the time at the clinic. In essence he has come to terms with who he is and has found answers to what he wants his future to be like. He has solved his identity puzzle.
The Presidential Goggles presents another dimension of identity where one is identified by the image s/he presents. Like all of Chirere’s stories it has an ironic twist and the joke is on the city audience who are taken in by the old man. To apply the rural/urban dichotomy of the first generation Zimbabwean writers, the rural audience is not fooled by the old man as the city audience does despite its claim to sophistication.
The story is based on the discovery a mentally ill old man makes; that in dark goggles he resembles a former president of the country who was feared for his ‘Brown Belts’ boys that terrorized people. He decides to use this as a ticket to fame and riches but his sons blow his cover and ruin the whole plan. The humour of the story is that the old man asks questions and people respond giving details that are dependent on what they read in the image presented by the old man, both visual and aural. When the old man mentions “his boys” he means his sons but because he has projected the image of President Box people think of the ‘Brown Belts’. However, in all this drama, Chirere explores the game of image making played by politicians on a national scale.
Chirere presents the story in kaleidoscopic fashion capturing the journey of the old man from the rural area to the city. This helps him show the different groups in society and how they react to the image presented as it affects their identity and standing in society. The old man is first presented to the reader as a fine picture of dignity and poverty,
An old man (dressed in a pair of flapping trousers, a dog-eared waist coat and a tie tucked under the disintegrating shirt collar), trudges from a footpath onto a wide dirt road. He stops at the junction and scans the thread of the dirt road, from the horizon to this point, one hand on forehead.
In full view, the old man is of medium height, clean shaven and slightly stooped. A ‘chiefly’ walking stick balances horizontally on one shoulder, a bulging plastic bag. (p80)
The old man is obviously concerned about his looks as he takes good care of himself despite the poverty. One gets the idea that this is his best image. The ‘chiefly’ stick hints at his love of power. However the image of dignity he presents contrasts with how he jumps into the road;
"When the cart gets to his point, the old man drops his bag and walking stick by the roadside and monkey-like jumps and lands in the middle of the road, waving his arms. He wants the vehicle to stop!" (p80)
‘Monkey-like’ emphasizes the idea of a prankster and hence the reader is caught between whether to take the old man seriously or simply as a comedian. The driver of the donkey-cart is obviously not amused and therefore ignores the old man.
The bus conductor is interested in getting more customers and arriving at his destination on schedule. Consequently he is “irritated by the old man’s unnecessary show of grandeur” delaying him. The old man reacts by striking the conductor and declaring his identity as the President. No one takes him seriously and the conductor does not beat him up at the entreaties by the passengers.
Age seems to play a part in how the people react to the old man. The two boys herding cattle fail to respond to the suggestion of “the Boys” and conclude that the old man is mad. The irony is that they are close to the truth and as a result power is on their side as they are able to make the old man “totter down the road, falling, rising, running...” At the roadblock, it is the young officers who have no memory of President Box who refuse to believe.
In the van, the passengers refuse to believe the old man and their arguments against the idea are rational and logical. The driver, too, initially does not believe and is more incensed that the old man is banging his car. It is only at the insistence of the old man that he changes his mind:
"Standing face to face with the driver on the dirt road, the old man quickly puts on his goggles. ‘It is I, the President. Don’t you recognize me?’
The driver clicks his tongue but he gives the old man a serious look. The old man glares intently at the driver from behind his glasses. Suddenly, the driver gives a terrified cry and sags down. ‘President Box.’ He stands up and staggers back. ‘My goodness! It’s you. What?’ He staggers backwards again. When the driver looks again, the old man is standing at attention. Exactly! Exactly!" (p82)
The old man enacts the role of President and the driver of the van allows the image to trigger memories in his mind. At first he clicks his tongue, then is terrified, then is excited and becomes the spokesperson for the old man. Meanwhile, the old man watches his reaction planning his next move, which is, to take over control and order everyone; the other passengers back into the back of the van and the driver to drive on with the old man by his side in the front compartment.
When they reach the roadblock the old man has fully gained his confidence and playing the role of President to the bone. The police officers perceive the driver as drunk ( they presume alcohol but he is drunk on the image of Box represented by the old man) as he violates the law not to mention Box or General Pink Which can lead to his own death. The general comments by the officers are the cue for the old man to present himself, first, in a powerful commanding voice that makes the officers to ‘stiffen’. The visual presentation makes
[a] number of officers gasp. ‘It’s him.’ ‘So he wasn’t killed?’ ‘He is alive after all.’ ‘And his boys, the Brown Belts.’ The old man stands at attention by the door, ‘So you see, it is me, ha? (p84)
The memories of terror in the officers lead them to conclude that it is the president. Again the old man watches them attentively before making his next move. The fight between Rocky and the sergeant is triggered by allegiance based on tribalism. Vharea is Rocky’s homeboy so he stands to benefit from Vharea’s being in power. On the other hand, the sergeant is Box’s homeboy. In this remark is a powerful commentary on African politics that seem not to focus on one’s ability but what benefits one’s support to them will bring. This is the root of corruption. The old man ignores the fighting officers and “beckons at the driver. They drive off at top speed, towards the city.”(p85)
At the Broadcasting station the soldier called Max trembles at the image of Box. The one who is not moved declares,
‘No, Max, This is just some distant resemblance,’ one soldier says. ‘Box died. I read about it at school. Besides, my own uncle saw his corpse!’ The soldier turns to the old man. ‘Old man! Get out now! Out!’ He fumbles with handcuffs. (p85)
The soldier’s conviction comes from having two reference points; the books at school and his uncle. In Zimbabwe, and Africa in general, there is a tendency to respect book education and accounts by close relatives. This is what fortifies the soldier against being moved by the image represented by the old man. The old man moves away reluctantly because he knows the others, like Max, believe him.
The next move by the old man is to mobilize a crowd to help him go past the soldiers into the Broadcasting station. Crowds that gather easily in cities largely comprise of poor loafers, the unemployed hungry, thieves and the curious. The speech made by the old man appeals to this crowd,
The suffering, the crying of this great nation has forced me to come back! I want him to resign peacefully or l will ask my boys, who are all over, to descend on him!
Enough is enough!
Cheers. The old man puts on his goggles and the crowd goes mad, ‘Exactly!’ ‘Exactly!’ ‘The glasses’ ‘It’s him’ ‘Just like in the pictures!’ ‘Viva Box!’ (p )
The crowd in this instance comprises of the marginalized. Their knowledge of the President is from the pictures (newspaper or television) and thus it is just an image. It is ironic how one declares they have recognized someone based on glasses that can be mass produced and bought by anyone. However the speech to end suffering answers a call in the crowd’s heart and they follow him. Of interest is that once the soldiers appear with guns, the crowd is not so willing to follow and flees at gun shots. The old man, left alone, flees.
Finally, in the hall, the old man wears a new suit and the crowd is middle class. Again, the reactions are based on personal interests;
Well said, your Excellency! ‘Just as you used to do during those years.’ ‘I could feel it’ ‘I feel like fighting!’ Another man: ‘Shake my hand, Mdhala! Welcome! Tell the boys to make it quick, we are behind you!
Another man: ‘Box, is this you? Something always told me that you couldn’t be dead, Mdhala! Mdhala is back!’
Another man: ‘A word with you, Box. Forgive this, but, as soon as it happens, l can volunteer to stand in the Finance office. I’m a PhD! But, just tell the boys to hurry. Vharea won’t give in. I’m telling you!’
The crowd is motivated by validating their own thoughts; disbelief that Box had really gone. At times reliving moments of past glory, as well as seeking lucrative ministerial posts.
At this height of glory, the old man’s sons arrive,
"The old man sees them and shakes. He holds his head desperately. He holds his mouth and then his waist. He shakes his head...The old man points desperately at the speakers. ‘My boys,’ he says. He moves in circles. He protests. He shakes his head. He holds his mouth and his waist. He begins to move in circles again." (p87)
The revelation of the truth kills the old man’s dream and the hope of leaving poverty behind. The reaction of the crowd to the new image of the old man as a dangerous madman is interesting,
"Then, the crowd pours out through the stage doors, the normal doors, and the windows…" [STORY ENDS HERE]
The city crowd is gullible and reacts to any words by anyone at anytime. The old man walks away, throwing off the new jacket symbolic of discarding his identity as Box. He most probably will search for a new adventure and identity.
Conclusion
Chirere’s stories are hinged on individuals in specific dilemmas dealing with specific identity questions. These are, however, linked to the larger national, class and racial identities. We are presented with characters that are realistic and easy to identify with ( Pempani and Hurston) On the other hand we have characters that are magical in the sense of having the ability to make thing happen and difficult to define (Two old men in ‘Suburb’ and ‘The Presidential Goggles’). They do not have specific names because they are universal and fluid.
