George Clinton
Tavis Smiley & Cornel West interview George Clinton
The Conversation: George Clinton
Guidelines for the 2012 Festival
Our commitment to find and produce excellent ten-minute plays by women playwrights has resulted in some changes in our submission process to the Six Women Playwriting Festival. Please read the following policies carefully before submitting your play.
The Six Women Playwriting Festival 2012 will be held:
April 12-15, 2012
April 19-22, 2012
April 26-29, 2012
The theme of this year’s festival is TRANSFORMATIONS.
Beginning with the next contest (Deadline: Friday, September 30, 2011), submissions will be limited to the first 250 scripts we receive.
Writers whose plays are selected for production will be notified by February 15, 2012.
Each playwright may submit only one script—send us your best work!
We are unable to accept electronic submissions.
No scripts will be returned.
Each script must be no more than ten pages long.
Previously submitted plays are not accepted and will not be returned nor receive a response.
Each manuscript must be typed and individually bound or stapled.
Title page must include the playwright’s name, address, phone number, e- mail address and a sixty-word bio.
An honorarium of $100 will be awarded for each of the six winning plays.
Please Note:
This year, one play will be work shopped by the MAT actors and director. The playwright, whose play is selected, will receive travel costs to Colorado for this workshop opportunity in addition to her $100 honorarium for the weekend of April 12-15.
Send your submission to:6 Women Play Festival
c/o Pikes Peak Arts Council
PO Box 1073
Colorado Springs, CO 80901
Click Here to Download a Copy of Our 2012
Contest and Submission Guidelines
Free contest, Shroud Publishing 2011 College Fiction Award, top prize: $100
Deadline: 31 July 2011Response Time: 1 to 3 months after the end of the submission period
Submission email: cfa@shroudmagazine.com
Format and word count: Electronic submissions only; .rtf or .doc file attachment; no more than 500 words.
Awards:
1st place -- $100, publication in Shroud Magazine, two free contributor copies, and a hand-lettered “Hiram Award” presented at the Anthology 2011 Conference (anthocon.com) at the Wynwood Best Western in Portsmouth NH, November 11-13, 2011.
Honorable Mentions (4) -- Publication in Shroud Magazine, one contributor copy, and a hand-lettered “Hiram Award” presented at the Anthology 2011 Conference at the Wynwood Best Western in Portsmouth NH, November 11-13, 2011.
All awardees will receive a free weekend pass to the Anthology 2011 Conference, where they may participate in workshops and seminars focussed on the craft of genre writing.
Details: Shroud Publishing, a Milton, NH-based publisher of Shroud Magazine, The Journal of Dark Fiction and Art, is accepting submissions of exceptional flash fiction from college students. Shroud endeavors to discover the bold new voices emerging from within the realm of dark speculative fiction. Stories may be on any topic, provided that they are speculative in nature, and would fit the thematic orientation of Shroud Magazine as stated in its submission guidelines at www.shroudmagazine.com. There is no fee to enter.
Stories will be judged by Shroud’s editorial team using the following general criteria:
- Originality, uniqueness;
- Exceptional use of craft techniques (dialogue, narrative tension, subtext, POV, etc.)
- Basic compositional ability;
- Adherence to Shroud’s submission guidelines at www.shroudmagazine.com
Shroud will acknowledge receipt of submissions, but will be unable to personally respond to, or critique every submission.More information here.
Paying market, Thin Threads (various themes), pays $100 per story
Deadlines: Thin Threads of Women & Friendship - March 20th, 2011; Thin Threads of Moms & Grandmas - April 20th, 2011; Thin Threads of Teens & Young Adults - May 30th, 2011; Thin Threads of Pets & Companions - July 30th, 2011; Thin Threads of Babies & New Parents - September 30th, 2011Kiwi Publishing is looking for true, inspirational stories of 1200 words or less that will make readers laugh, cry, or sigh. Stories should be positive, universal, and non-controversial. The "point" or "message" should be evident without preaching. No essays, commentaries, tributes, philosophical or biographical pieces will be accepted. We are currently collecting stories in the following categories:
- Thin Threads of Women & Friendship
- Thin Threads of Veterans & Heroes
- Thin Threads of Pets & Companions
- Thin Threads of Faith & Hope
- Thin Threads of Family & Legacy
- Thin Threads of Moms & Grandmas
- Thin Threads of Dads & Grandpas
- Thin Threads of Holidays & Celebrations (including Romance/Valentine's Day)
- Thin Threads of Teens & Young Adults
- Thin Threads of Babies & New Parents
Each story must:1. Be real, nonfiction
2. Capture the essence of a thin thread event
3. Evoke an emotion from the readerYou may submit more than one story for any of our upcoming titles. Please select stories from your own experiences, or from someone in your life.
Should your story be selected and be included in one of the Thin Thread book series, a permission fee of $100 will be paid to you. To submit your story, click here.
If your story is selected for publication, you will be required to sign a submission release form. Click here to review the terms of that form before you submit your story. If you are unable to email, please send a hard copy (and on disk if possible) to: Thin Threads c/o of Kiwi Publishing P.O. Box 3852 Woodbridge, CT 06525.
Submit here.
This is a wonderful documentary about Fred Mutebi’s artwork created by Zara Sarzin. The documentary demonstrates each stage of the multi-color progressive reduction method of woodcut printmaking. The image is meticulously carved onto a wood plate, rolled with colored ink, and then registered onto a surface. The process is repeated five to six times on the same wood plate with different colors to complete the final image. This primitive form of printmaking limits each work to a few editions.
Fred Mutebi is effective at using metaphors in his artwork to subversively critique society and political leaders. In the documentary, he also explains the people and places in Uganda that inspire his artwork.
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LetArtTalk on Apr 12, 2011
This documentary demonstrates each stage of the multi-color progressive reduction method of woodcut printmaking. Fred Mutebi also explains the people and places in Uganda that inspire his artwork.
Video credit: Zara Sarzin
You can see more of his beautiful woodcut prints in the gallery below or clicking Fred Mutebi Catalog of Artwork.
Please become a fan on Facebook. Contact me if you are interested in purchasing any of Fred Mutebi’s artwork.
UPDATE: START Journal of Arts and Culture based in Kampala, Uganda has featured Fred Mutebi. Click the links below to read the articles.
Interview with Na'ma B. Robert,
Author of Far from Home
In this interview, I chat with Na'ima B. Robert, author of the new novel 'Far from Home', which I just finished reading. It is a novel about growing up, family, Zimbabwean colonial and post colonial history which chronicles the pains of land dispossession and loss of home.Some of the central issues of the novels are captured in the following description, given at the author website:
"Katie and Tariro are two girls linked by a terrible secret, grappling with the complexities of adolescence, family and a painful colonial legacy as their lives play out against the tragic history of the land in Zimbabwe....Atmospheric, gripping and epic in scope, Far from Home brings the turbulent history of Zimbabwe to vivid, tangible life, challenging the reader to see it with new eyes."
The Interview
Emmanuel Sigauke: First, congratulations on the publication of 'Far from Home'. What prompted you to tackle the controversial (and topical) land issue in Zimbabwe in this novel about family and growing up?
Na’ima Robert: For some time, I had been angered by what I considered biased reporting of the land reform programme by the BBC. There was no mention of the history of land ownership in Zimbabwe, a crucial factor that has influenced politics in that region since the late 1800s. I wanted to highlight that history in a way that would cast a slightly different, more nuanced light on the recent reforms and the continuing debate in the region. I can’t write unless I feel strongly about a particular issue – and this issue spoke to me on many different levels: as someone who grew up in Zimbabwe, as an African and as a minority writer trying to contribute something new to the literary landscape.
ES: What influenced you to depict the lives or struggles of two girls growing up in different circumstances, Katie and Tariro? What was the purpose of portraying these two stories side by side?
NR: I really wanted to highlight the parallels in the two girls’ circumstances and play with the imagery of black and white, past and present. I wanted to make the link between the incidents that got so much media attention a few years ago and what took place decades ago, and on a much wider scale.
I would never have written Katie’s story on its own as that is a story that has now been told many, many times. But I did consider concentrating on Tariro’s and going into even more detail about her experiences up to 1980. In the end, I decided to keep that for a future novel.ES: You are right; it seems that most memoirs coming out of Zimbabwe have represented Katie’s perspective and not Tariro’s. In other words, there are many memoirs by white Zimbabweans published in the Western world, than there are those by black Zimbabweans. What could be contributing to this discrepancy?
NR: I think the political situation in Zimbabwe is an extremely emotive one and that much of the Western media has picked sides in the debate over land. Obviously, what happens in Zimabwe – whether we rise or fall – will affect other countries in the region that are wrestling with their own land ownership issues. So the media’s focus has been on portraying the land reform programme as a failure, on Zimbabwe as a failed state, Mugabe as an evil dictator, the MDC as the saviours, the caricatures continue. The truth is a lot more complex than that – just read Ian Scoones’ work! In terms of literature, we have seen a number of black Zimbabwean writers gain recognition in the last few years, which is fantastic. However, I have not come across any literature, published in the west, that goes against the accepted version of Zimbabwe’s recent history. Perhaps there is a fear that western audiences will not respond well to such an approach or that it will be difficult to secure a publishing deal with anything that seems to contradict the received wisdom about our political situation. In terms of importance, I think it is absolutely crucial for a variety of voices to be heard, both for the benefit of those who are interested in our country and its history and for us to be able to better understand our country and what has shaped it, what is continuing to shape it. We may not agree with each other’s views, but they are our views and experiences nonetheless - the culture of the dominant narrative devalues and marginalises others’ experiences. In the case of Zimbabwe, there are differences along racial, cultural, social and political lines – if we are to survive as a pluralistic, tolerant nation, we must be able to weave a coherent national narrative, a common ground, a shared history, in light of these differences.
ES: What challenges did you experience in depicting the lives of these two different girls? Which one was easier to write about?
NR: Once I had done the necessary research, Tariro’s story just flowed. She grew on me as a character, almost instantly. For some reason, I felt a strong connection with her, with her lifestyle and her hopes and dreams. She was a wonderful character to write. I got her.
Katie, on the other hand, was a challenge. I think that this is mainly due to the fact that I grew up with an antipathy towards ‘Rhodies’ and it was very difficult for me to get past that and do justice to her story. I believe I did manage to, in the end. Having said that, there were many aspects of her life and family that I found more relatable because I didn’t grow up in a traditional Shona family – her feelings towards her father and mother are, for me, closer to what I know than Tariro’s, for example. But once I got into Katie’s character, it became easier to tell her side of the story. One of my early critics said that she felt that I found my voice through Katie but I’m not sure whether that is true. I think different readers will respond to the characters in different ways, depending on their own backgrounds, their own values and whichever one ‘speaks’ to them.
ES: For me, Tariro’s world was more familiar, relatable. It represented the rural landscape I grew up in, punctuated with its massive baobab trees, its happy moments and little dramas. Reading the Tariro story then, I was happy to encounter the familiar, and appreciated the research you did to render the enthnographic details realistically. One question I have though is that didn’t this section feel a bit romanticized for you, idealistic in places? Or was your intention to give the kind of life lived by Tariro’s people a little more dignity?
NR: You’ve definitely picked up on something there: I believe that, as a writer, you are responsible for how your material is presented as different forms of presentation will elicit different responses in the reader. Through the use of tone, language, imagery, we writers have the power to influence the reader and persuade him or her to see things the way we want them to. It could just be the difference between saying ‘Nhamo roared like a wounded lion’ or ‘Nhamo roared like a savage beast.’ The two have different connotations. Unfortunately, growing up in a post-colonial society has made me sensitive to how we as Africans are portrayed, both historically and in the present day, and so this will affect my own word use, or even characterisation. Some may argue that this is self-censorship but I believe that I have a responsibility as a writer not to further an agenda I don’t subscribe to, to take ownership of the messages in my books.
ES: You used the Shona proverb 'Mwana washe muranda kumwe' (A prince is a slave when from his kingdom) as an epigraph of the novel. Can you explain it in the context of the events in 'Far from Home'?
NR: One of the recurring themes of the book and, indeed, our history as Zimbabweans, black and white, is the loss that is incurred when one’s home is taken away or left behind. The loss of security, of identity, is often more painful than the loss of the physical home itself, property etc. Both Tariro and Katie feel this sense of loss acutely and it reminds me of the white Zimbabweans who fled the country at independence and settled in the UK and Australia – they were known as ‘When-wes’, as in, ‘When we were in Zimbabwe, we had a maid, a cook, a tennis court etc...’ because their standard of living, their prospects, their sense of self all suffered as a result of that move. Similarly, many black Zimbabweans have to counter racism and unemployment when they go to work abroad - the indignity of being treated like an immigrant scrounger, like someone with no history, with nothing to offer, is a heavy price to pay for living and working ‘far from home’. Petina Gappah’s short story, ‘My cousin-sister Rambanai’ reminds me of this proverb too. We have all heard the stories of Zimbabweans leaving the country to go to the UK to wipe old people’s bottoms – that is a real-life illustration of this proverb. More worryingly, we are encountering these threats and indignities ever closer to our borders as the latest xenophobic attacks in South Africa illustrate.
ES: The novel makes great use of historical facts. How much research did you do for this novel? How far back did you go in your historical inquiries?
NR: I was able to pull on a lot of different sources for the book: my own memories, what I had learned in history lessons at school, speaking to people, reading novels, reading academic papers. It was important for me to anchor the story in a historical period and, for that, you need to get to know the period intimately. That proved quite a challenge as I didn’t have access to a library full of books – and online resources were thin on the ground, particularly regarding the more personal details. That was where novels and memoirs helped: I read Chenjerai Hove, Shimmer Chinodya, Tsitsi Dangarembwa, Alexandra Fuller and Doris Lessing. I also had a handbook of Shona traditions and found a delightful research paper (dating back decades!) on Shona proverbs and idioms. I really enjoyed that foray into Shona culture, something I never had the chance to do while I lived in Zimbabwe.
The hardest part to research was the era of ‘freedom ploughing’ – I couldn’t find any secondary sources for it whatsoever! I was limited to YouTube when it came to video so I had to be content with watching snippets of Neria and BBC documentaries.ES: Once you had done adequate research for your novel, how often did you find yourself departing from the factual to the imaginative? Was there a time when once the story took off, you didn’t have to keep returning to the researched material?
NR: Once I had done my initial research, it was the personal relationships that moved the story. Reading this interview might give the impression that the book is a tract about land ownership but I think you will agree that it is a very personal story about families caught up in the throes of political turbulence and how that affects them individually. Those personal relationships, particularly the romance between Tariro and Nhamo and the relationship Tariro has with her mother, were where I felt free to imagine and craft a story that was moving and heartfelt. I cried while writing certain parts of Tariro’s story – while writing the words! Ufunge! That has never happened to me!
ES: This is always my favourite question: Are you an African writer? What does it mean to be an African (or any other) writer?
NR: I’d be happy to be considered an ‘African writer’, merely because so many writers I admire are themselves African writers. But to adopt that label would be somewhat disingenuous. Like most people, my identity, both as an individual and as an artist, is more complex than that. If I claim the title of ‘African writer’, I must then also be a ‘Muslim writer’, a ‘black writer’, a ‘multicultural writer’ because all of these identities have informed my work thus far. And that is the essence of the label, isn’t it? That the consciousness that informs the book has been shaped by that particular experience. And since ‘Far from Home’ is totally inspired by my roots in Zimbabwe, by my experience and consciousness as an African, for this book at least, I am proud to be called an ‘African writer’!
ES: So does the label depend on context? Are there ever benefits in being labelled this or that writer? Or is a writer just a writer not matter what labels the readers will have for her? I ask this because, as you know, it’s been a hot issue in Africa, writers seemingly rejecting the African writer label, or accepting it in, as Ikhide Ikheloa—an Nigerian critic—has pointed out, convenient circumstances, such as African writer conferences and residences.
NR: Well, as someone who started out as a ‘Muslim writer’ and is now flirting with the ‘African writer’ label, I think that what happens is that, after achieving a measure of success amongst your peers (be they African, Muslim, Arab or whatever), you start to feel like a big fish in a small pond. You may want to spread your wings, or target a new readership or simply prove (to yourself and others) that you can make it in the big pond. And then, if you are recognised by the fish in the bigger pond (the West, the mainstream, whatever you want to call it), you are then keen not be pigeon-holed and labelled as ‘that fish from that pond’ because you are trying to grow past that. If I think about it, to be labelled or call yourself an ‘African writer’ means that your ‘Africanness’ informs your work in some way – whether it is your choice of stories, your language, your characters or your consciousness. And I mean this in an authentic African sense, not a clichéd version of Africa held by outsiders or foreign ‘experts’. Incidentally, I love the way Chimamanda Adichie describes this in her Ted Talk, ‘The Danger of the Single Story’. Now, can a black African writer of romance stories set in New York with an all-American, all-white cast be considered an ‘African writer’? Probably not, I’d say – but the question is not whether you are ‘African enough’, it is whether you writing is good enough, at the end of the day.
ES: What is the significance of your title, "Far from Home"?
NR: So many things! There is nostalgia there, a palpable yearning for what was and what perhaps can never be again, on the part of the characters, for me personally and, I suspect, many Zimbabweans who may read the book, especially those in the diaspora. And of course, it relates to the theme of the novel: what home means to different people, whether a home can be regained once it is lost, how one goes about finding a new home, be it in the Tribal Trust Lands or in a London tower block.
ES: A lot of those in the diaspora become permanent residents or citizens of their host countries; can they achieve a state of being “near home” in this regard? Isn’t an interesting feature of our new global order the ability to transform our views on home, place, belonging? Or are we, as long as we are away from the old home, always far from home?
NR: Well, as someone whose parents settled ‘far from home’ due to apartheid laws against mixed marriages, who moved to the UK to study, became a Muslim, married a London-bred Ghanain and currently reside in Egypt, the whole issue of ‘home’ is an emotive one for me. I do long for simpler times when you were born into a culture and grew up in, married and raised your children pretty much in that culture – just for the certainty, the continuity, the sense of rootedness. However, this is no longer a feasible reality so I have set my sights on making my home wherever my family is and wherever we feel a connection and a sense of belonging. That will probably mean that I will call about 4 countries ‘home’ but I’m hoping that will only enrich me and my children – and provide more fodder for writing and probably some more labels along the way.
I have also found that longing for the past, for the ‘original’ home, is often best cured by actually going back there: you will either love it and resolve to return, permanently, as soon as is feasible, or you will find that you have both grown and changed in ways you could not have imagined and that, really, you now have your feet in two homes. And then you just have to work that however you can.
ES: A very important question a reader may ask after reading 'Far from Home' is: To whom does land in Zimbabwe belong? And as far as land is concerned, what does ownership mean?
NR: We could ask that question about every country that has ever been colonised: who owns the land that the Native Americans once called their own, or the Maori, or the Aborigines? One of the reasons I wrote the book was to encourage people to ask that self-same question. In the case of Zimbabwe, the received wisdom in the West is that the land belonged to the ‘legal owners’, the commercial farmers. The idea that that ownership should be called into question has not been fully explored. I hope that readers will ask themselves that question and reach their own conclusions after reading the book and seeking information from more sources. Your comment about the Bantu not being the original inhabitants of the land only makes the issue more
ES: The Tariro section of the novel shows a deeper connection with nature, a more organic kind of relationship in which the humans' lives are part of the environment. Even Tariro herself is described as the "baobab's daughter." Was this a statement on how the relationship with the land is conceived in the different phases and experiences depicted in the novel?
NR: Even I was taken aback by how different the two girls’ voices were. On a cultural level, an emotional level, even a linguistic level, these two 14 year olds are totally different. Tariro is, as you say, quite literally, the ‘baobab’s daughter’ and I think her section exhibits the organic, almost spiritual connection with the land that was at the heart of her society. That connection is palpably different to the relationship the commercial farmer has to the land. Katie loves the land too, but it is not a fundamental part of who she is. She does not work it with her own hands, doesn’t grow the food that she eats, and she leaves it to go to boarding school. There is a barrier there, a physical disconnection. The land is special to her for what it represents: her family home, security, memories, rather than because it has intrinsic worth.
ES: To the Zimbabweans (both white and black), covered in your novel, reconciliation, or a clear sense of forgiveness or togetherness seems only possible when the principal characters meet in the UK, far away from home. Is this displacement, or alienation from home the only hope for redemption for the characters? What is the special message in this way of resolving the story?
The novel ends on a note of optimism, the possibility of rebuilding Zimbabwe with open hearts and cooperation, "willing hands". How long do you think such dreams of rebuilding will be realized?NR: In order for Katie to truly hear Tariro and appreciate her story, she had to grow as a character, as an individual. She could not have done that had she remained in Zimbabwe, sharing her parents’ paradigm. Her growth was crucial and, really, she had to be broken before she could be fixed again, just as Tawona says at the end of the novel. Tariro too has no knowledge of her own strength until she loses everything and has to fight to make her way to the other side of her pain, anger and humiliation.
Indeed, many of us who leave our homelands find that we achieve a greater sense of clarity about who we are – and who we are not – when we step out of that context. Of course, this clarity comes at a great price but, sometimes, that price is a necessary downpayment on a stronger, clearer sense of identity.
In the final analysis, great change does not come without pain, without loss and, unfortunately, the post-independence land situation in Zimbabwe was untenable. It was unjust to the vast majority, to the landless poor. Their issues had to be addressed. Obviously, a combination of factors led them to being addressed in a way that almost brought the country to its knees but, if we look at history, we see that this is part of a historical pattern. Bastille Day in France is, after all, a celebration of a royal massacre. I do not say this to minimise in any way the suffering of the Zimbabwean people but we may find that, with the passage of time, with a more honest discourse, the story of Zimbabwe will not be viewed as the great African tragedy, but as a process, as a journey, one that will, I hope, see us living the dream that Tawona articulates: that we join hands as Zimbabweans, regardless of race, ethnicity or creed, to rebuild our country in an even better, more just image than before. ‘Pie in the sky!’, my father said, but I am an eternal optimist so I had to hold to that hope at the end of the book. Tawona’s vision is an articulation of my own.ES: Most of the white Zimbabweans in the novel never really consider themselves Zimbabwean. How has such a choice contributed to the chaotic land reform and politics in the country?
NR: When I was doing my research for Katie’s side of the story, I came across an interesting and very apt description of two types of white Zimbabweans: Rhodies and Zimbos. According to this description, Rhodies are white Zimbabweans who either consider themselves still Rhodesian or think of pre-independence as the country’s golden era and never embraced Zimbabwe, as a country, as a culture. When Katie describes her world, it is a world totally divorced from the world of other non-white Zimbabweans, as you will find in many white Zimbabwean memoirs. My introduction to this world was through Alexandra Fuller’s breathtakingly honest memoir, ‘Don’t let’s go to the dogs tonight’. If anyone wants to know the Rhodie mentality laid bare, in its rawest form, they need to read that book.
On the other hand, there is Uncle James – he is a Zimbo. According to the article I mentioned previously, a Zimbo is a white person who embraces the concept of a post-independence Zimbabwe. A Zimbo is usually comfortable with all sorts of people; race is not an issue. He or she will integrate, maybe speak Shona or Ndebele, maybe have a relationship with a black Zimbabwean – but the key difference here is a sense of belonging and respect for the country and its people.
The Zimbabwe I grew up in was still divided along colour lines and I think that this was largely due to the legacy of colonialism and racism that many Zimbabweans would not or could not free themselves from. This meant that there was a very ‘us against them’ mentality when the land issue came to a head. It was easy to paint the picture of the whites as ‘settlers’ because they lived very much as they had done before independence, apart from the rest of the population.
ES: In your dialogue, you embrace the use of Shona, for which you provide translations in parenthesis. Why did you choose not to offer only the translated versions of the dialogue; or, why did you just not leave the Shona untranslated, and maybe provided hints to the reader to figure the meaning out of the context? Is thi an audience issue, or is it a way of capturing the flavour of the original language, while offering a translation?
NR: The use of Shona was crucial to Tariro’s section as distinct from Katie’s English narrative. In addition, Tariro and her family would have all spoken Shona anyway and I always like for readers to get a feel for the language of the narrator and its rhythms. On the other hand, I expected that a lot of non-Zimbabweans would read the book and I was wary of the language being a stumbling block for them. Oh, and my editor insisted on the translations in parentheses.
ES: What other works have you written, and what are you working on currently? Which works has satisfied you the most?
NR: After writing several multicultural children’s books, I wrote a book about my journey to Islam and the (true) lives of Muslim women in the west (‘From my sisters’ lips’). Next up was my first novel for teens, about a Somali girl who has to come to terms with big changes when her father comes to live with them after being missing in Somalia (‘From Somalia, with love’). Then my next teen novel was entitled ‘Boy vs. Girl’ and looks at the pressures facing a twin brother and sister of Pakistani origin, including family expectations, religion, culture, gangs, illicit romances and Mini Cooper-driving niqabi (woman who wears the veil).
In addition to cooking up ideas for a follow-up to Far from Home, I am currently working on a novel about a young African-Caribbean couple from opposite sides of the tracks – a bit like a black Westside Story with a conscious urban edge to it. It is due for release in Black History Month (UK) 2012 - so maybe this time I will be billed as a ‘Black British writer’ I know it’s cheeky but when you are as multicultural as I am, you become accustomed to wearing different hats – simply because is not enough.About Na'ima
Na’ima B Robert is a published author and magazine publisher. Her books include the popular ‘From my sisters’ lips’, and teen novels, ‘From Somalia, with love’ and ‘Boy vs. Girl’. She is founder and Editor-in-Chief of SISTERS, a magazine for Muslim women. Na’ima has also been published in The Times, The Observer and The Muslim Weekly as well as several online publications.
Na’ima defines herself as ‘Muslim, Black, mixed-race, Southern African, Western, revert and woman all in one’. Descended from Scottish Highlanders on her father’s side and the Zulu people on her mother’s side, she was born in Leeds and grew up in Zimbabwe. She went on to gain a first-class degree from the University of London and began writing when her first child was a toddler. Na’ima has written several award-winning children’s books. Her frank and honest autobiographical celebration her adopted Muslim faith, ‘From my sisters’ lips’ was published by Transworld Publishers to much acclaim. Na’ima then published two teen novels, ‘From Somalia, with love’ and ‘Boy vs. Girl’ with Frances Lincoln. Her third novel, ‘Far from home’ is a crossover YA/adult novel, set in Zimbabwe.
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Na’ima B Robert is a published author and magazine publisher. Her books include the popular ‘From my sisters’ lips’, and teen novels, ‘From Somalia, with love’ and ‘Boy vs. Girl’. She is founder and Editor-in-Chief of SISTERS, a magazine for Muslim women. Na’ima has also been published in The Times, The Observer and The Muslim Weekly as well as several online publications.
Na’ima defines herself as ‘Muslim, Black, mixed-race, Southern African, Western, revert and woman all in one’. Descended from Scottish Highlanders on her father’s side and the Zulu people on her mother’s side, she was born in Leeds and grew up in Zimbabwe. She went on to gain a first-class degree from the University of London and began writing when her first child was a toddler. Na’ima has written several award-winning children’s books. Her frank and honest autobiographical celebration her adopted Muslim faith, ‘From my sisters’ lips’ was published by Transworld Publishers to much acclaim. Na’ima then published two teen novels, ‘From Somalia, with love’ and ‘Boy vs. Girl’ with Frances Lincoln. Her third novel, ‘Far from home’ is a crossover YA/adult novel, set in Zimbabwe.
>via: http://naimabrobert.co.uk/about/
Me and the man with the iPad
I never know how to behave when I go to write about hungry people.
I usually bring just a notebook and a pen because it seems somehow more subtle than a recorder. I drain bottled water or hide it before I get out of the car or the plane. In Ethiopia a few years ago I was telling a funny story to some other journalists as our car pulled up near a church where we had been told people were arriving looking for food.
We got out and began walking towards the place, me still telling the tale, shouting my mouth off, struggling to get to the punch line through my laughter and everybody else’s.
Then there was this sound, a low rumbling thing that came to meet us.
I could feel it roll across the ground and up through my boots. I stopped talking, my laughter died, I grabbed the arm of the person beside me: “What is that?” And I realized. It was the sound of children crying. There were enough children crying that — I’ll say it again — I could feel it in my boots. I was shamed by my laughter.
Inside the churchyard there were tents and inside the tents children were dying.
Rows and rows of women sat on the ground cradling delicate babies. An aid worker told us we had ten minutes and so we went to work. Camera shutters clicking, pens scratching: “What’s her name? How far did she walk? How many of her kids are dead?”
Some journalists leaned down over the mothers to talk to them, some stuck cameras inches from their faces. I stood further away when taking the photos, I sat down in the dirt to interview people. I thought I was better, but I wasn’t. I was just more conceited.
I remember looking up and seeing a girl who worked at a U.N. aid agency crying. I motioned to her to get out — her tears as self-indulgent as my sitting in the dirt. And then we leave. Thank you, we say. Thank you for talking to me. Thank you for holding up your dying baby for my camera. And thank you for your dignity. Thank you for giving it to me. Thank you for letting me have it.
Because that’s the thing. An Ethiopian girl told me last week that she cried as she watched foreign journalists interviewing a Somali woman in a Kenyan refugee camp. “All she had left was her dignity,” she said. “And then they took that, too.”
She was right. And I knew that I had done that. Many, many times.
I used to tell myself that it was okay because what I did was important. A U.N. official once excitedly phoned me at 7am to tell me the U.S. had donated millions of dollars to his agency because someone from the government had read a story of mine in the Washington Post.
Another aid worker approached me in a bar in Addis Ababa. “Hey! That story you wrote about that woman? That woman who had a kid die every year for the last four years and now only has one left? Awesome, man! Awesome!”
Her name was Ayantu. I don’t know if her son, Hirbu, is still alive.
Last weekend I was there again. The U.N. loaded me and some other journalists onto one of their planes in Nairobi and we flew to a tiny village near Somalia to meet people suffering from hunger, to ask them our questions, to find the sorriest tales possible.
We jumped into an imperious row of white jeeps when we landed and swept into the village. Doors flew open, everybody walked very fast, everybody was very important.
I saw six people all firing their cameras at one bemused woman. I saw aid workers fawning over the head of the World Food Programme. I saw soldiers fanning out to protect us. And then I saw the man with the iPad. I stood and stared for some time, enjoying the deliciousness of what was one of the strangest things I had ever seen in my life.
I raised the camera.
This is what I’ll write, I thought. Not about another Ayantu. Not again.
Because it’s a cycle. African governments know that drought is coming and they don’t prepare. Foreign charities working there talk about long-term plans to help people become self-sufficient but they’ve been failing to achieve them for 20 years. It’s as much about politics and war and poor economic policies as it is about no rain. I’m no expert but I know that much.
I also know it’s wrong that every few years we’re faced with an “emergency” that could have been prevented, that aid groups must frantically try to raise money to respond, that journalists need to find emaciated babies at death’s door and film and photograph and write about them before the world gives a damn.
Part of me felt bad for publishing the photo of the man with the iPad. Because he was a good person doing his job. And because we are the same.
He comes with an iPad, I come with a notebook.
Both of us steal dignity and neither of us belong.
+++++++++++
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Famine in East Africa
| JUL 27, 2011 | 153 |
With East Africa facing its worst drought in 60 years, affecting more than 11 million people, the United Nations has declared a famine in the region for the first time in a generation. Overcrowded refugee camps in Kenya and Ethiopia are receiving some 3,000 new refugees every day, as families flee from famine-stricken and war-torn areas. The meager food and water that used to support millions in the Horn of Africa is disappearing rapidly, and families strong enough to flee for survival must travel up to a hundred miles, often on foot, hoping to make it to a refugee center, seeking food and aid. Many do not survive the trip. Officials warn that 800,000 children could die of malnutrition across the East African nations of Somalia, Ethiopia, Eritrea, and Kenya. Aid agencies are frustrated by many crippling situations: the slow response of Western governments, local governments and terrorist groups blocking access, terrorist and bandit attacks, and anti-terrorism laws that restrict who the aid groups can deal with -- not to mention the massive scale of the current crisis. Below are a few images from the past several weeks in East Africa. One immediate way to help is to text "FOOD" to UNICEF (864233) to donate $10, enough to feed a child for 10 days, more ways to help listed here. [38 photos]
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Mihag Gedi Farah, a malnourished seven-month-old child weighing only 7.5 pound (3.4kg), is held by his mother in a field hospital of the International Rescue Committee, IRC, in the town of Dadaab, Kenya, on July 26, 2011. The U.N. will airlift emergency rations this week to parts of drought-ravaged Somalia that militants banned it from more than two years ago, in a crisis intervention to keep hungry refugees from dying along what an official calls the "roads of death." Tens of thousands already have trekked to neighboring Kenya and Ethiopia, hoping to get aid in refugee camps. (AP Photo/Schalk van Zuydam) 
Women and girls, caught in a small sandstorm, fetch water in Wajir in this photo released on July 21, 2011. A wide swath of east Africa, including Kenya and Ethiopia, has been hit by years of severe drought and the United Nations says two regions of southern Somalia are suffering the worst famine for 20 years. (Reuters/Jakob Dall/Danish Red Cross) #
A Somali man accesses a water point at the Dadaab refugee camp on July 4, 2011. With a population of 370,000, Dadaab is the world's largest refugee camp even though it was built for just 90,000. According to Doctors Without Borders, the number of people seeking refugee keeps swelling and Dadaab will house 450,000 refugees by the end of the year, or twice the population of Geneva.(Roberto Schmidt/AFP/Getty Images) #
Somali refugees who recently crossed the border from Somalia into southern Ethiopia cluster between two food tents as they wait to be called to collect food aid at the Kobe refugee camp, on July 19, 2011. Ethiopian authorities and non-governmental organizations have accommodated almost 25,000 refugees at the camp since it was set up less then three weeks ago.(Roberto Schmidt/AFP/Getty Images) #
A woman waits for food rations at a feeding center in Lolkuta, near Wajir, on July 21, 2011. The UN's World Programme Programme was preparing on July 26, 2011 to airlift food aid into the Somali capital Mogadishu, but efforts were hampered by last minute paperwork in Kenya. An estimated 3.7 million people in Somalia -- around a third of the population -- are on the brink of starvation and millions more in Djibouti, Ethiopia, Kenya and Uganda have been struck by the worst drought in the region in 60 years.(Simon Maina/AFP/Getty Images) #
An aid worker using an iPad photographs the rotting carcass of a cow in Wajir, near the Kenya-Somalia border, on July 23, 2011. Since drought gripped the Horn of Africa, and especially since famine was declared in parts of Somalia, the international aid industry has swept in and out of refugee camps and remote hamlets in branded planes and snaking lines of white 4x4s. This humanitarian, diplomatic and media circus is necessary every time people go hungry in Africa, analysts say, because governments - both African and foreign - rarely respond early enough to looming catastrophes. Combine that with an often simplistic explanation of the causes of famine, and a growing band of aid critics say parts of Africa are doomed to a never-ending cycle of ignored early warnings, media appeals and emergency U.N. feeding - rather than a transition to lasting self-sufficiency. Picture taken July 23, 2011. (Reuters/Barry Malone) #
An aerial view of the Dadaab Refugee camp in eastern Kenya, where the influx of Somali's displaced by a ravaging famine remains high, on July 23, 2011. The European Union Aid Commissioner Kristalina Georgieva has vowed to do all that is possible to help 12 million people struggling from extreme drought across the Horn of Africa, boosting aid by 27.8 million euros ($40 million). The funds come on top of almost 70 million euros ($100 million) the bloc has already contributed as assistance in the worst regional drought in decades, affecting parts of Ethiopia, Kenya, Somalia, Djibouti and Uganda. (Tony Karumba/AFP/Getty Images) #
Nado Mahad Abdilli builds a makeshift shelter for her family in Ifo 2, an area earmarked for refugee camp expansion, but yet to be approved by the Kenyan government, outside Dadaab, Kenya, on Monday, July 11, 2011. U.N. refugee chief Antonio Guterres said Sunday that drought-ridden Somalia is the "worst humanitarian disaster" in the world, after meeting with refugees who endured unspeakable hardship to reach the world's largest refugee camp in Dadaab, Kenya. (AP Photo/Rebecca Blackwell) #
Somali men carry a severely malnourished child, under the instruction of a African Union Mission in Somalia (Amisom) peacekeeper, from a camp for internally displaced people to the peacekeeping operations headquarters where the child was admitted for emergency medical treatment, in Mogadishu, on July 15, 2011. (Reuters/Stuart Price/AU-UN IST PHOTO) #
Sheik Yare Abdi washes the body of four-year-old Aden Ibrahim in preparation for burial in accordance with Somali tradition, inside the makeshift shelter where Aden's family lives among other newly-arrived Somali refugees on the outskirts of Ifo II Camp, outside Dadaab, Kenya, on Tuesday, July 12, 2011. Doctors were unable to save Aden, who died of diarrhea-related dehydration after four days of inpatient care. (AP Photo/Rebecca Blackwell) #
Abdirisak Mursal, 3, a malnourished child from southern Somalia, gets treatment in Banadir hospital in Mogadishu, on July 16, 2011. Thousands of people have arrived in Mogadishu over the past two weeks seeking assistance and the number is increasing by the day, due to lack of water and food. The worst drought in the Horn of Africa has sparked a severe food crisis and high malnutrition rates, with parts of Kenya and Somalia experiencing pre-famine conditions, the United Nations has said. (AP Photo/Farah Abdi Warsameh) #
A boy from the family of Rage Mohamed is caught in wind-blown dust as his family builds a makeshift shelter around a thorny acacia tree, on the outskirts of Dagahaley Camp, outside Dadaab, Kenya, on July 10, 2011. It took the 15-person family five days to make the journey from their drought-stricken home in Somalia. They spent two nights sleeping in the open air under the tree prior to receiving tarps on Sunday. (AP Photo/Rebecca Blackwell) #
Hassan Ali prays by the roadside as he walks from the Somali-Kenyan border, just 2km away, on July 23, 2011. Hassan left his home in Dinsour fifteen days ago, and is walking to join his family in the Kenyan refugee complex at Dadaab, having fled the drought that has ravaged the Horn of Africa. (Phil Moore/AFP/Getty Images) #
A newly arrived Somali refugee child awaits medical examinations at the Dadaab refugee camp, on July 23, 2011. Aid agencies are unable to reach more than two million Somalis facing starvation in the famine-struck Horn of Africa country where Islamist insurgents control much of the worst-hit areas, the U.N.'s food agency said on Saturday. (Reuters/Kabir Dhanji) #
RELATED LINKS AND INFORMATION
UNICEF Donation form - Official site
Medecins Sans Frontieres (Doctors Without Borders) - Official site, donations
Disunited in hunger - The Economist, July 21, 2011
Famine in East Africa: How you can help - CNN.com, July 25, 2011
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Famine in East Africa
July 26, 2011 4:01 PM
The worst famine in a generation is gripping East Africa, where more than 11 million people are struggling with the drought, the United Nations says. The problem is especially hitting the 3.7 million in Somalia, where neither the government nor aid agencies can fully operate in areas controlled by al-Qaida-linked militants. (20 total photos)
1of 20Somalis shelter with their belongings outside a reception center, where they slept after being registered as refugees in Dagahaley Camp, outside Dadaab, Kenya, Wednesday, July 13, 2011. More than 11 million people in the Horn of Africa are confronting the worst drought in decades and need urgent assistance to stay alive, U.N. Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon said Tuesday. Ban called an emergency meeting Tuesday morning with the heads of U.N. agencies to discuss the worsening drought in East Africa, which along with fighting in Somalia has created a humanitarian crisis.(AP Photo/Rebecca Blackwell)
2of 20A unidentified child awaits treatment in a field hospital of Doctors Without Borders, MSF, in the town of Dadaab, Kenya, Monday, July 25, 2011. A U.N. agency is hosting an emergency meeting in Rome on Monday July 25, to mobilize action to fight famine in Somalia, Kenya and other drought-hit nations in East Africa, estimating that more than 11-million people need help in the drought-hit region. (AP Photo/Schalk van Zuydam)
3of 20Soldiers from the Somalian transitional government forces patrol the border town of Dhobley, Somalia, Sunday, July 24, 2011. Some thousands of people have arrived in Mogadishu seeking aid and The World Food Program executive director Josette Sheeran said Saturday they can't reach the estimated 2.2 million Somalis in desperate need of aid who are in militant-controlled areas of Somalia. (AP Photo/Schalk van Zuydam)
4of 20Hibo Mohamud, a 3-year-old malnourished child from southern Somalia is comforted on bed at Banadir hospital, Mogadishu, Somalia, Tuesday, July 26, 2011, after fleeing from southern Somalia. The U.N. will airlift emergency rations this week to parts of drought-ravaged Somalia that militants banned it from more than two years ago _ a crisis intervention to keep hungry refugees from dying along what an official calls the "roads of death." The foray into the famine zone is a desperate attempt to reach at least 175,000 of the 2.2 million Somalis whom aid workers have not yet been able to help. Tens of thousands already have trekked to neighboring Kenya and Ethiopia, hoping to get aid in refugee camps. (AP Photo/Farah Abdi Warsameh)
5of 20Somalis from southern Somalia receive food at a feeding center in Mogadishu, Somalia, Tuesday, July 26, 2011. The U.N. will airlift emergency rations this week to parts of drought-ravaged Somalia that militants banned it from more than two years ago _ a crisis intervention to keep hungry refugees from dying along what an official calls the "roads of death." The foray into the famine zone is a desperate attempt to reach at least 175,000 of the 2.2 million Somalis whom aid workers have not yet been able to help. Tens of thousands already have trekked to neighboring Kenya and Ethiopia, hoping to get aid in refugee camps. (AP Photo/Farah Abdi Warsameh)
6of 20Somalis from southern Somalia carrying their belongings make their way to a new camp for internally displaced refugees in Mogadishu Tuesday, July 26, 2011. The U.N. will airlift emergency rations this week to parts of drought-ravaged Somalia that militants banned it from more than two years ago _ a crisis intervention to keep hungry refugees from dying along what an official calls the "roads of death." The foray into the famine zone is a desperate attempt to reach at least 175,000 of the 2.2 million Somalis whom aid workers have not yet been able to help. Tens of thousands already have trekked to neighboring Kenya and Ethiopia, hoping to get aid in refugee camps. (AP Photo/Farah Abdi Warsameh)
7of 20Somali children ride on top of baggage in a donkey-drawn cart as their family heads from the Somali border for the refugee camps around Dadaab, Kenya, Wednesday, July 13, 2011. More than 11 million people in the Horn of Africa are confronting the worst drought in decades and need urgent assistance to stay alive, U.N. Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon said Tuesday. Ban called an emergency meeting Tuesday morning with the heads of U.N. agencies to discuss the worsening drought in East Africa, which along with fighting in Somalia has created a humanitarian crisis.(AP Photo/Rebecca Blackwell)
8of 20Somali refugee and goat herder Adan Issick walks past unoccupied refugee housing at Ifo II, a camp expansion trapped in limbo as it awaits final approval by the Kenyan government, outside Dadaab, Kenya, Tuesday, July 12, 2011. U.N. refugee chief Antonio Guterres said Sunday that drought-ridden Somalia is the "worst humanitarian disaster" in the world, after meeting with refugees who endured unspeakable hardship to reach the world's largest refugee camp in Dadaab. (AP Photo/Rebecca Blackwell)
9of 20Men shovel dusty soil into the grave of 3-year-old Nasro Ahmed Gure, whose parents say died of illnesses related to malnutrition, in an area where newly-arrived Somali refugees have settled on the outskirts of Dagahaley Camp, outside Dadaab, Kenya, Tuesday, July 12, 2011. U.N. refugee chief Antonio Guterres said Sunday that drought-ridden Somalia is the "worst humanitarian disaster" in the world, after meeting with refugees who endured unspeakable hardship to reach the world's largest refugee camp in Dadaab, Kenya. People die here every day, though no one can provide a reliable estimate of the drought deaths.(AP Photo/Rebecca Blackwell)
10of 20Displaced woman walk as the wind blows in the border town of Dhobley, Somalia, Sunday, July 24, 2011. Some thousands of people have arrived in Mogadishu seeking aid and The World Food Program executive director Josette Sheeran said Saturday they can't reach the estimated 2.2 million Somalis in desperate need of aid who are in militant-controlled areas of Somalia. (AP Photo/Schalk van Zuydam)
11of 20Displaced people gather in the shade as Somali transitional government forces drive past in the border town of Dhobley, Somalia, Sunday, July 24, 2011. Some thousands of people are displaced as they search for aid and The World Food Program executive director Josette Sheeran said Saturday they can't reach the estimated 2.2 million Somalis in desperate need of aid who are in militant-controlled areas of Somalia.(AP Photo/Schalk van Zuydam)
12of 20A unidentified child reacts at a local hospital as she is fed through a tube during treatment for malnutrition at the border town of Dadaab, Kenya, Saturday, July 23, 2011. People who can barely stay on their feet due to hunger walk for days or even weeks through parched wasteland to find a meal and water. Many of them also set out to seek help for their ailing children. The drought in the Horn of Africa and the famine in Somalia has left more than two million children at risk of starvation. (AP Photo/Schalk van Zuydam)
13of 20A doctor examines Mihag Gedi Farah, a seven- month-old child with a weight of 3.4kg, in a field hospital of the International Rescue Committee, IRC, in the town of Dadaab, Kenya, Tuesday, July 26, 2011. The U.N. will airlift emergency rations this week to parts of drought-ravaged Somalia that militants banned it from more than two years ago in a crisis intervention to keep hungry refugees from dying along what an official calls the "roads of death." Tens of thousands already have trekked to neighboring Kenya and Ethiopia, hoping to get aid in refugee camps.(AP Photo/Schalk van Zuydam)
14of 20Somali women displaced by drought, wait to receive rations at a camp in Mogadishu, Somalia, Wednesday, July 20, 2011.Parts of southern Somalia are suffering from famine, a U.N. official said Wednesday, and tens of thousands of Somalis have already died in the worst hunger emergency in a generation. The Horn of Africa is suffering a devastating drought compounded by war, neglect and spiraling prices. Some areas in the region have not had such a low rainfall in 60 years, aid group Oxfam said. (AP Photo/Mohamed Sheikh Nor)
15of 20Somali women from southern Somalia walk after receiving rations at a displaced camp in Mogadishu, Somalia, Friday, July 15, 2011. Some thousands of people have arrived in Mogadishu over the past two weeks seeking assistance and the number is increasing by the day, due to lack of water and food, as the worst drought in the Horn of Africa has sparked a severe food crisis and high malnutrition rates. (AP Photo/Mohamed Sheikh Nor)
16of 20Women from southern Somalia hold their malnourished children as they await treatment in Banadir hospital in Mogadishu, Somalia, Sunday, July 24, 2011. The World Food Program can't reach 2.2 million Somalis in desperate need of aid in militant-controlled areas of Somalia, WFP's director said Saturday, meaning refugee camps in nearby Kenya and Ethiopia are likely to continue seeing thousands of new refugees each week. (AP Photo/Farah Abdi Warsameh)
17of 20A malnourished child from southern Somalia is washed in a herbal solution by her mother in a makeshift shelter in Mogadishu, Somalia, Monday, July 25, 2011. Some thousands of people have arrived in Mogadishu seeking aid and The World Food Program executive director Josette Sheeran said Saturday they can't reach the estimated 2.2 million Somalis in desperate need of aid who are in militant-controlled areas of Somalia.(AP Photo/Farah Abdi Warsameh)
18of 20Somalis from southern Somalia perform funeral prayers with relatives of a malnourished child who died, Tuesday, July 26, 2011 at a refugee camp in Mogadishu, Somalia. Some thousands of people have arrived in Mogadishu seeking aid and The World Food Program executive director Josette Sheeran said Saturday they can't reach the estimated 2.2 million Somalis in desperate need of aid who are in militant-controlled areas of Somalia.(AP Photo/Farah Abdi Warsameh)
19of 20In this Sunday, July 24, 2011 photo women line up to sign up for the World Food Program emergency distributions in Dolo, Somalia. Some thousands of people have arrived in Mogadishu seeking aid and The World Food Program executive director Josette Sheeran said they can't reach the estimated 2.2 million Somalis in desperate need of aid who are in militant-controlled areas of Somalia. (AP Photo/Jason Straziuso)
20of 20Children sit as they wait treatment at a field hospital of Doctors Without Borders, MSF, in the town of Dadaab, Kenya, Monday, July 25, 2011. A U.N. agency is hosting an emergency meeting in Rome on Monday July 25, to mobilize action to fight famine in Somalia, Kenya and other drought-hit nations in East Africa, estimating that more than 11-million people need help in the drought-hit region. (AP Photo/Schalk van Zuydam)
>via: http://photos.syracuse.com/syracusecom_photo_essays/2011/07/famine_in_east_af...
WHY IT MEANS SO MUCH
FOR ME TO BE ALIVE
TEDxTalks on Jan 7, 2011
In this beautiful story of life and hope, find out why Winnie has not shut up since she experienced her "Lazarus effect". Her talk challenges our societies, living in denial and avoiding discussing the difficult issues with our own families to wake up and smell the coffee, imploring us to do more to celebrate those that are lucky to be still living with HIV and to keep advocating for treatmet, prevention and possible...a cure!
Winnie currently works as African services manager for Positive East and was one of the first people from the African community in the UK to have the courage go public with her HIV status. After discovering she was HIV positive, Winnie now spends her time volunteering; writing, researching and speaking about issues affecting HIV positive Africans. Winnie is chair of the African HIV Policy Network (AHPN) and trustee of National Aids Trust (NAT).via youtube.com
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Residents of Africa's largest slum in Nairobi watch a condom demonstration at an open-air clinic
'The Pope's comments
are a milestone in HIV fight'
Winnie Ssanyu Sseruma, a campaigner
who has the virus herself, on how
a new stance on condoms will benefit Africa
Saturday, 27 November 2010
I was raised a Catholic and, even if my faith has lapsed, I still am one. But I have also been HIV positive for 23 years, and every day I am involved in the fight against the spread of the virus.
When I was asked earlier this year to make a short film for Channel 4 about what I would say to the Pope if I had an audience with him, the answer was easy: I said I would like to see the Pope change his attitudes towards condoms, from being completely against them and saying that they are part of the problem to accepting that when it comes to the sexual transmission of HIV, they are the best prevention tool we have.
He has not quite gone that far. But his recent comments, which at least suggest that there are some circumstances in which the use of condoms is the lesser evil, are an encouraging sign.
And they open a way forward. The evidence has been very clear for many years now that when condoms are used correctly and consistently they are able to significantly reduce the incidence of sexually transmitted infections including HIV.
While there is no doubt that the Pope could go a lot further in endorsing all proven methods of preventing the spread of HIV, the impact of his statement cannot be underestimated. I and my colleagues at Christian Aid believe firmly in the important role the world's faith leaders have to play in responding to the pandemic.
Again and again in my years working to educate people about HIV, we have come up against the obstacles that faith can put in our place. I remember a trip to Zambia, where I was told by a Malawian group at a conference on the subject that condoms were not used by good Catholics, that they promote promiscuity and that they would not want to be seen by anyone buying them – or even picking them up for free.
And I remember a conference in Uganda earlier this year, bringing together local leaders from a variety of faiths for the first event of its kind. Uganda's minister of health got up and spoke about the importance of condoms in HIV prevention, and told us that his government would continue to provide them. There seemed to be reason for optimism.
Then the Catholic leader stood up, and made it quite clear that artificial contraception was not allowed in the Catholic faith, and that there would be no compromise on the issue. I felt like a deflated balloon.
So the Pope's words are a heartening acknowledgement of the facts about HIV. When the Pope last visited Africa, he caused uproar by saying that condoms were not a solution to the problem of HIV, but part of the problem, and his remarks almost overshadowed his entire visit; now, though, I wonder whether seeing first-hand the devastating effects that HIV can have on communities was the trigger that prompted this change.
For NGOs linked with the Catholic Church it will also make work so much easier. They have long struggled to balance the rigidity of the information from the Church leadership and the reality on the ground.
The Reverend Christo Greyling, the director of HIV and infectious diseases at World Vision International, said: "I am so thankful for the clarifying messages from the Pope. This is one of the most helpful prevention messages to come forth in the past years. It is something we have been hoping for, for such a long time – since so many people, Catholics and others, are looking towards the Pope for leadership."
The fight against HIV will still face huge challenges. We have to keep pushing the leadership of the Catholic Church to go even further and start addressing HIV in their churches – not just within their congregations but among their priests. We continue to hear of priests who are dying of HIV-related illnesses in hospitals around the world, in silence, in denial and without the treatment and support they desperately need.
And yet there are still religious leaders in developing countries who dispute the facts – which are unanswerable. Since Aids was identified in the early 1980s, more than 60 million people have been infected with HIV worldwide and nearly 30 million have died of Aids-related illnesses.
The recent statistics show that at the end of 2009 there were 33.3 million people in the world living with HIV, the majority of them living in Africa and having acquired their infection mainly through heterosexual transmission. Although the figure is slightly down from the previous year, indicating that the epidemic maybe levelling off, there is still a situation whereby new infections are outpacing people going on to treatment by two to one.
Clearly the need for accurate information on prevention is as crucial as ever. All too often HIV has been linked to sinful behaviour, and this approach tends only to hide the issue and increase its stigmatisation. Organisations like Christian Aid will continue to insist that HIV is not a moral issue: it is a virus.
>via: http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/africa/the-popes-comments-are-a-miles...
Saturday, July 30, 2011
The Future of Africa
'The Future of Africa' is a short documentary by ONE's Profiles and Perspectives Project. The film features inspiring students from the African Leadership Academy -- a pan-African education institution whose mission is to transform Africa into a peaceful and prosperous continent by developing and supporting its future leaders -- discussing how technology is helping them learn, connect and drive Africa forward.ONE is a non-partisan organisation who work closely with African activists and policy makers to help raise public awareness and pressuring political leaders to support smart and effective policies and programs that are saving lives, giving children an education and improving futures.
I wish there was more to this video! I enjoyed hearing about Africa from youth living in Africa! It's quite refreshing because I am so used to hearing about Africa and what African needs from people who don't live on the continent.
Watch Now For Free -
Byron Hurt’s
“Hip-Hop: Beyond Beats and Rhymes”
Byron Hurt’s acclaimed hour-long documentaryHip-Hop: Beyond Beats and Rhymes, which tackles masculinity, sexism, violence, and homophobia in hip-hop culture, can be watched for FREE right now via ITVS’ website.
I assume most of you have probably already seen it; it’s been around since 2006. But if you haven’t, or you just feel like watching it again, click HERE to do so now courtesy of ITVS.
You have until the end of July to do so.
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- Byron HurtProducer
The Film
Filmmaker Byron Hurt, a life-long hip-hop fan, was watching rap music videos on BET when he realized that each video was nearly identical. Guys in fancy cars threw money at the camera while scantily clad women danced in the background. As he discovered how stereotypical rap videos had become, Hurt — a former college quarterback turned activist — decided to make a film about the gender politics of hip-hop, the music and the culture that he grew up with. “The more I grew and the more I learned about sexism and violence and homophobia, the more those lyrics became unacceptable to me,” he says. “And I began to become more conflicted about the music that I loved.” The result is Hip-Hop: Beyond Beats and Rhymes, a riveting documentary that tackles issues of masculinity, sexism, violence, and homophobia in today’s hip-hop culture.
Sparking dialogue on hip-hop and its declarations on gender, Hip-Hop: Beyond Beats and Rhymes provides thoughtful insight from divergent points of view, including rap artists, industry executives, rap fans, and social critics from inside and outside the hip-hop generation. The film includes interviews with famous rappers such as Mos Def, Fat Joe, Chuck D, Jadakiss, and hip-hop mogul Russell Simmons; along with commentary from Michael Eric Dyson, Beverly Guy-Sheftall, Kevin Powell, and Sarah Jones.
The film also explores such pressing issues as women and violence in rap music, representations of manhood in hip-hop culture, what today’s rap lyrics reveal about the artists, and homoeroticism in hip-hop. A “loving critique” from a self-proclaimed “hip-hop head,” Hip-Hop: Beyond Beats and Rhymes examines the complex intersection of culture, commerce, and gender through on-the-street interviews with aspiring rappers and fans at hip-hop events throughout the country.