We Shall Be Together by Christopher Mlalazi

MaKhabo walked into the kitchen. Zodwa sat alone at the table, a cup of mahewu in her hand. Another cup was in front of an empty chair on the same table. ‘I don’t want to hear anything about it anymore,’ maKhabo said as she pulled the chair in front of the cup. The cup was also full of mahewu, and it had been prepared by Zodwa as maKhabo had been on the phone in the sitting room. She heaped two teaspoonfuls of sugar from an enamel sugar basin into the cup and stirred, her brow furrowed... Full Story

A Cicada In The Shimmer by Christopher Mlalazi

It was trapped inside his mind, which was a world falling away into a sort of darkish greyish shimmering soot. He opened his eyes. Pale light filtered into the room through the curtain, but, groggily, he knew that it was a moon beam, and it was still night. He turned inside the blankets on to his left side, and removed his palms from his ears. The trill was still there, incessant, and now outside his head. He ground his palms over his ears again, tightly. The sound pierced on, now inside his head again.... Full Story

The River Of Life by Christopher Mlalazi

A star seared across the dark sky – then, without sound, it quickly exploded, sending lemon streaks of flame spurting in all directions, almost lazily. In the white centre of the explosion, a human being appeared, hurtling towards the glowing orb of the earth in a graceful dive, its naked body haloed by a golden light. It plunged into a deep pool below a waterfall that savaged down a steep cliff. Water exploded upwards where it disappeared, the spray curling outwards... Full Story

Many Rivers by Christopher Mlalazi

Seven hours from the pick up point after crossing the Limpopo River, the border jumpers arrived in Johannesburg. Qinisela was the first one to be dropped off. He felt the van stop, and, after a moment, the door of the back opened and Disaster’s face appeared in the square of weak light spilling in from the street lights behind him. ‘Qinisela Dube!’ Disaster called into the interior, after consulting a small note book in his hand. Qinisela’s heart started. He scrambled through the press of bodies to the square of light, and jumped out of the van. His right foot felt numb. He stamped it on the ground, sending a million stinging needles haywire in it. Disaster pointed at an imposing grey building that stretched the whole block. ‘This is it,’ he said, his voice gruff. ‘Your destination.’ Full Story

Many Rivers by Christopher Mlalazi, his New Book coming out Soon!

From The Lion Press Blog:

I am happy to introduce Christopher Mlalazi, winner of National Arts Merits Award (NAMA) 2009, as our newest author, with his book, Many Rivers, which will be out on 31 May 2009 (if not earlier). Christopher Mlalazi will launch his book in the UK at the Zimfest in London, and will address a seminar of MA (Writing) students at the University of Warwick in mid-October, where he will mingle and share the platform with some of the best and well known writers in English Literature. Plans are underway to include Birmingham University and University of Kent as part of his itinerary during the UK tour. Well done Chris. Read More

Christopher Mlalazi Awarded the NAMA!

StoryTime is very pleased to announce that Christopher Mlalazi, after being nominated in the Outstanding First Creative Published Work category for his debut book, a collection of short stories called Dancing with Life. Has won the NAMA or Zimabawe National Arts Merit Award in his category. The NAMA is an annual award given out to Zimbabweans who showed great excellence in the arts in the previous year.

So many congratulations Chris, you certainly deserve it, may this be the first of many.

You can read an excerpt from the Award winning Book at ST, in The Matchstick Man, which first appeared in Dancing With Life and other Short Stories published by ama'Books publishers, Bulawayo, Zimbabwe.

A review of Christopher Mlalazi's Dancing with Life by Beaven Tapureta

Reading Dancing with Life is like walking on a suspended tightrope, arms of the mind spread apart so as not to lose equilibrium, looking down on Mlalazi’s characters as they struggle to survive in today’s Zimbabwe. You certainly don’t want to fall into their lives, but you are transported right into the township. As you finish the first story, Broken Wings, you can’t help the tears forming in your eyes. Nozitha the teenage caregiver suffers right in front of you. She collects the family ration of food aid and takes care of her mother and grandmother who are both AIDS victims. Her grandfather Siziba is too weak to help himself. Abisha, a food aid worker, as if he cares, asks, “Where is God then? Tell me, you who believe, when people as young as this girl have to suffer like this.” Full Article

Dearest Sender of the Bulldozers by Christopher Mlalazi

They are walking past. Some cast open glances of disgust, some tinged with apprehension, in my direction. For I know they can never understand how an old woman and an infant can live on a street pavement. Who can blame them? Of course the memory of my husband stands over us, protecting us from both their stares, and the elements. Dearest comrade, I got both this paper I am writing on, and the pen, from the Chief of the dump outside the city, where I started this letter a while ago, sitting in a cave looking over my ill husband. Full Story

The Matchstick Man by Christopher Mlalazi

His feet a blur that even seemed not to touch the tar, the Matchstick man flew along the street. Behind him chased a police car, siren baying, and its roof light flashing red murder. On either side of the street, like daring spooks, other red flashing lights chased other Matchstick men on jerky shop window reflections. Cutting across a corner, he slipped on a banana peel, tumbled down, and skidded forward on his stomach, the tar shredding his dungarees in a loud abrasive screech. The street suddenly writhed into a turn - he shot straight on out of it and into Independence Square. Full Story