We thought it would be good to show off our talent a little, to whet appetities while our major project is still in the works. Our writers will post excerpts of their work to give you an idea of what we're about. Here's the first: an excerpt from Crossing, the novella by C.S. Ntumy that won in the novel category of the 2009 Bessie Head Heritage Trust competition.
Crossing
Gaborone, Botswana, May 2007
There was nothing special about it. Khumo had come here maybe eight times in the past month, but still she couldn’t see it, whatever it was. She walked towards it, keeping an eye out for passing cars, and took in the surroundings. The woman selling maize by the side of the road. The children running back and forth across the railway line. The stray dog sniffing at litter a short distance away. The red and white warning signs, the large circle that read “40” and the cars, most of which paid no attention to the speed limit. It was just a normal railway crossing.
She heard the whistle and backed away, even though the train was still far and she could have made it across the tracks in good time. She stood beside the maize hawker and watched the immense metal creature roar past. She looked at the cars waiting patiently – a white Toyota Hilux, a maroon Audi, a green Corolla, a silver Nissan March, and a bright yellow monster that looked more like a gadget than a vehicle.
The train screamed into the distance, and the cars continued on their way. She glanced up at Old Naledi, the area beyond the tracks. Everything was as it should be – as it had always been. There was nothing to see. She knew that, and yet she kept coming, in the hope that…
The hope that what? She could change things? She could find a clue, a secret doorway into the past, a way to go back and make everything all right again? She put her hands into the pockets of her jacket. The sun was high in the sky and the chilly winter morning had melted away into a pleasant afternoon, but she was still cold.
Her phone vibrated against her thigh again, and again she ignored it. She glanced at her pocket, detached from the sensation of the small bump in her tight jeans, thinking vaguely that she should have left the phone at home. It was her mother, of course, or maybe her grandmother, or her cousin, or her best friend. It was somebody who didn’t want her to be there, at Benson’s crossing, someone who wanted her to forget. But she couldn’t. She walked across the railway line, quickly enough so she didn’t attract attention, but slowly enough to experience it, if it happened. It didn’t. Her feet moved over the metal, landed on the tar on the other side, and kept going. There was no moment of realization, no funny shiver down her spine, no sense of being watched. Nothing.
Frustrated, she turned around, ignoring the curious stare of the maize hawker, and walked back again, across the tracks. She focused hard. She tuned everything else out and allowed herself to feel. The sunlight on the back of her neck. The slight breeze sweeping into her jacket. The feel of the raised metal lines beneath her feet…
She stopped. There was something. She clung to the gate, pressing herself against it in case a car came by, and closed her eyes. It was a jolt, not like electricity, but like waking up suddenly from a dream, and not knowing for sure whether you were awake. It was like coming out of a reverie and remembering that you were in a lecture, but not knowing what lecture it was or what the person in front of the class was talking about. It lasted a fraction of a second, and then it was gone. Just before she opened her eyes a face flashed into her mind. It was the face of a woman; blonde, pretty, with a vague air of anxiety about her.
Khumo opened her eyes. It was the face of Helen King.
The word "petlo" refers to a tool used by woodcarvers. It is also a symbol of the creative arts. It's used here in the Trust's logo to represent the letter "t".
Barolong Seboni
Co-ordinator of the Literary Artists group, celebrated writer and Chairman of the Petlo Trust
‘One of my stories has been published a UK-based literary magazine for women writers,’ Gothataone M
25-year old Moeng’s love for writing came from reading Enid Blyton’s Famous Five series. Her areas of interest are TV and video production, filmmaking and journalism. Moeng was one of two writers from Botswana to travel to Kampala, Uganda (2004) for a Literature Festival for Contemporary African Writers. She has a story published in Long Time Coming, (an anthology published by Amabooks, Zimbabwe). Moeng feels her strongest area is short story writing, but would like to go into longer forms. Moeng, who holds a BA Media Studies from the University of Botswana, says the literary landscape in the country is a ‘little disappointing.’ However, she is optimistic that things will change as people are interested in writing and some local writers are starting to work hard and take their writing seriously. “The nation should start reading local stories and books, and writers should give the public a reason to want to read their books.”
‘Through research, Botswana can document her history,’ Sharoon Tshipa
Sharoon Tshipa believes it is time Batswana stand up and do research in order to document their history. The 22 year old is very passionate about Video & Television production, Fashion and Web Design and Public Relations. She started writing short stories and gospel songs while in grade 6. Tshipa says in anything and anyone there is a story to tell. “There is a lot to write about which is not written. Botswana is like an orchard full of ripe fruits (some of which are going to waste), they need someone to harvest them,” she says. She has a BA in Media Studies from the University of Botswana and she is of the view that local writers should be encouraged through buying and reading their work.
"I want to be the new voice that comes out of Africa," Samantha Refilwe Ferguson
23 year-old Ferguson says her love for writing dates back to the late 90s in primary school, where she read avidly and started putting words on paper as poetry. She has a Bachelor of Arts Degree, majoring in English and French. Although she doesn't have anything published yet, she wants to tell Africa's story through her own voice. "The problem with Batswana is that they do not generally read," she says. "Someone will invest in a TV room rather than buy a large collection of books, therefore writers in Botswana face a challenge of writing for a nation that simply is not interested in reading."
“My greatest interest is in Setswana poetry,” Pontsho Kodisa
Twenty-year-old Pontsho Kodisa says her source of love for Setswana poetry emerged in 2003. A former Setswana teacher in Sefhare Junior Secondary School motivated her a lot through his use of the language. “Believe me, the man can speak our pure language and play with the words,” she says. The unpublished Setswana poet says, the current situation in Botswana’s literary scene is that people tend to neglect the mother language. To be a writer one has to be creative, systematic, hard working, and adventurous and be passionate about literacy arts. Kodisa it is vital for local writers to collaborate with international writers in order to exchange ideas. Furthermore, she says young writers need to be encouraged through various means by those in the scene.
‘My best work usually has some sort of supernatural twist,’ Cheryl Selase Ntumy
Cheryl Selase Ntumy is a 26 year old whose passion for writing dates back to the days she learnt how to read and write. Ntumy, a degree holder in Media Studies and a certificate in Creative Writing is determined to push African literature to the extreme. In Ntumy’s words we cannot all be Chinua Achebes. It’s time bookshops shelve African sci-fi, African fantasy and African everything. “Instead of waiting for someone else to write it, I am going to write it myself,” Ntumy says.
‘Bessie Head shaped my world,’ Baboki Kayawe
The written word is so powerful a tool that has helped her choose her career path. Kayawe says it was through the work of Bessie Head that she discovered her love for writing. One English word led her into the craft, and the word is ‘journalist’. ‘Makhaya was a journalist,’ writes Bessie Head in When Rain Clouds Gather. Her interest is in poetry, short stories and features. She has not published any short stories yet, but feels her unpublished My Friend Gladstone is a good entry piece in the literary waves. The same applies to poetry, with Fashion and His Hands; the 23 year old brings to life Wilson Ngoni’s artistic prowess and fashion sickness. A BA Media Studies holder from the University of Botswana, Kayawe aspires create the world in words. Kayawe says a lot has to be done in Botswana’s literary playing field; Batswana, and Africans generally, need to write their tales.
‘Writing has to be a passion,’ Sidi Babish
Eighteen-year-old Sidiapelo Babish says a majority of Batswana does not really read or write as a passion, rather they do so because they are obliged to. Babish, not yet published says through her writing she hopes to inspire people. “I have always had the passion I guess its natural, it’s more of a way of life,” she says.
Lesego Gaotlhobogwe
Lesego is Petlo's event organiser. He was responsible for putting together the playwriting workshop.
A history lesson
The Petlo storytellers learn from another storytelling method - two thousand-year-old rock paintings at Manyana
Hard at work at the playwriting workshop
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