Zimbabwe Writers Association congradulates Charles Mungoshi
The Zimbabwe Writers Association (ZWA) would like to congratulate Charles
Mungoshi and family on the final publication of his long awaited novel, Branching
Streams Flow in the Dark. Find below and at http://www.memorychirere. blogspot.com/2013/08/the- return-of-charles-mungoshi. html a preview by Memory
Chirere and details on how you can get a copy for yourself.
Best wishes
Tinashe Muchuri, Secretary General
Branching Streams Flow in the Dark By Charles
Mungoshi, published in 2013 by Mungoshi Press, Harare, 165 pages, ISBN: 978 079 7444911, prize$18, phone: +263 774054341
(Previewed By Memory Chirere)
This transcendental novel; Branching Streams Flow in the Dark, published
by his family, marks the long awaited 'return' of leading
Zimbabwean author, Charles Muzuva Mungoshi.
The prize winning author of Coming of The Dry Season, Waiting For The
Rain and Kunyarara Hakusi Kutaura? who had been ‘silent’ ever since
his major single publication, Walking Still in 1997, has chosen a special
way of returning. As his wife, the acclaimed actress Jesesi Mungoshi states in
the dedicatory note, ‘it took Charles over 20 years to write this book and he
was still perusing through it when he fell into a coma on the 30th of April,
2010’.
He has thankfully recovered in time to
see it in print.
It is therefore befitting that this
book is about living beyond malady. During her darkest and loneliest moment,
when her baby dies of AIDS and her husband runs out of the house and her mother
is virtually unkind, Serina Maseko sees through herself and others, as if she
were beyond pain and reproach. She is floating because during this period,
before the advent of Anti Retro Viral Therapy use in the management of the
Acquired Immuno-Deficiency Syndrome (AIDS), being diagnosed as having the
infection is an automatic death sentence.
Serina begins to write a very long and
winding letter to a long - forgotten school mate, Fungisai Bare. In that
letter, Serina forages through her turbulent life and that of people around
her, confessing her sins and confronting all the ghosts in her life, searching
for certain key moments to hold on to…
“That laugh! That echoing percussion laugh of his!
It made me a little sad and excited and extremely nostalgic for something
I-didn’t-know-I-ever-had-but- which-I-suddenly-missed all together at the same
time, as if it were something half-remembered from a very distant and dusk-hued
place, where you could see as in a dream hardly-formed stick-figures in
sunlit-dust-motes silhouette and before you could touch them, they would all
dissolve and disappear before you – except for a lingering where-am-I sensation
left in you…That laugh! You don’t know how much I rode on it and it took me
where I fantasized that you never happened and he was all alone with me on this
trip – but – BUT – you would suddenly appear! You put the fear of thunder and
lightning in me. I don’t forget how you shredded Ketina Zvapano to tear-soaked
shame-drenched rags when you lit upon her after you had heard that she’d been
walking – or showing? – your Leo the secret ancient bush toe-path up to the
sacred never-dry-up spring in the old hills!”
And then Serina comes across one Saidi on a
city bus. It is just by chance! As you read on, you want Serina and Saidi to
fall in love. You tell your foolish self that this is love at first sight! It
is because Serina and Saidi are forlorn because they have AIDS. But Serina soon
learns that Saidi is and has been much closer to her than she has ever known.
Saidi leads Serina to her long lost father – the evergreen Samuel Maseko. Saidi
leads Serina to her runaway husband, the brilliant coward - Michael Gwemende.
Saidi leads Serina to his own mother, Samuel Maseko’s first wife - the
indefatigable Stella Mkandhla Dube! Finally, Saidi leads Serina to a path into
herself.
All these ‘streams’ begin to branch into what was
threatening to remain unknown. Here, as in the novels of Jose Saramago,
especially Blindness, seeing can be both disease and recuperation:
“… If you were looking at Mother looking at Father,
then Father appeared to be dirty, uncouth, uncivilised (Mother’s favourite
word), backward – and you found yourself lost in seeing him like that… you
would convince yourself that this was your original observation of him... on
the other hand, if you were looking at Father looking at Mother, you saw shame
and falseness right through everything, starting first and foremost, with the
highly out - of – key voice shrilling for attention so that it jarred on the
nerves like a child running a razor blade through velvet skin… Mother would not
hear Father. She would simply see her poor husband, Samuel Maseko, as an
also-ran, second-hand sort of lost soul…”
You come away from this novel with a feeling that
the river of life stretches from the familiar, and branches into the far away
and subterranean streams of eternity.
Get your copy, for $18 by phoning: +263 774054341
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