Invite to: Sex workers and taboos on sexual health

(picture: On 1 July 2010, Zimbabwean writer, Virginia Phiri donated copies of all her books (including the latest, Highway Queen) to the University of Zimbabwe library through librarian Ms Y. Chimuka)

The Embassy of Spain and its Cultural Centre, in collaboration with the Zimbabwe Young Women's Network for Peace Building (ZYWNP) has the pleasure of inviting you to the February 2012 edition of:

Young Women's Open Forum

Topic: "Sex workers and taboos on sexual health"

Guest of honour:
*Virginia Phiri, writer


The Forum will consist of a reading of excerpts from the books "Highway Queen" and "Desperate" and an open debate on the subject of prostitution, sex rights and sex education.

"Desperate" and "Highway Queen", both among Virginia Phiri's most acclaimed books, are collections of stories picturing sex workers,cross-border women traders and, in general, tribulations faced by challenged women during what has been described as 'the Zimbabwean crisis'.

Venue: Cultural Centre, Embassy of Spain

16 Phillips Avenue, Belgravia, Harare

Date: Wednesday 29th February

Time: 5 p.m. for 5.30pm
FREE ENTRY

"Revisiting Dambudzo Marechera - old texts brought to new life"

picture:1974. Courtesy of New College, Oxford.

On the occasion of Flora Veit-Wild's forthcoming visit to Zimbabwe, the ZGS is hosting an event on the 13th of March 5.30pm, Harare, entitled:

"Revisiting Dambudzo Marechera - old texts brought to
new life"

Flora Veit-Wild, Professor of African Literatures and
Cultures at Humboldt University in Berlin, lived in
Zimbabwe for over ten years. Here she met and worked
with Dambudzo Marechera and, after his death in 1987,
became one of the founder members of the Dambudzo
Marechera Trust. She was instrumental in collecting and
publishing his posthumous works and has written about his
life and work in numerous books and articles. Up to now
she represents the Marechera estate regarding new editions
and translations of his work.

Many people talk about Marechera's life, much fewer about his texts. The ZGS will organize a panel of contributors who each present their favourite Dambudzo piece. This means, reading or performing a poem or short prose or dramatic text by the writer and subsequently engaging with it. Alternatively or additionally, one could read/perform one's own literary text inspired by Dambudzo.

Each contributor will have a slot of ten minutes. A general discussion will follow the presentations. Flora will introduce the contributors and moderate the discussion.

We herewith cordially invite you as a contributor to this event. Could you please let us have your reply by the 1st of March 2012.

Warm regards

Franziska Kramer

Project Manager @ ZGS and GZH/Harare Zimbabwe

51 Lawson Avenue
Milton Park
Harare, Zimbabwe

Tel: + 263 (0) 4704045

Fax: +263 (0) 4796836

www.facebook.com/goethe.harare

GOETHE-ZENTRUM HARARE / ZIMBABWE-GERMAN SOCIETY
51 Lawson Avenue, Milton Park, Harare
Tel: +263 (0) 4 796836; Cell: +263 (0) 773 222 314; Fax: +263 (0)4 796836; Email: zgs@zgs.co.zw

CALL FOR ABSTRACTS:The Zimbabwe International Book Fair Indaba 2012

some Zimbabwean Writers who attended the Indaba and the Writers Workshop in 2011

THE ZIMBABWE INTERNATIONAL BOOK FAIR 2012
HARARE, 30th JULY- 4th August
THEME: AFRICAN LITERATURE IN THE GLOBAL AND DIGITAL ERA

On its meeting of 5 December, 2011, The General Council of ZIBFA received, discussed and adopted as the theme AFRICAN LITERATURE IN THE GLOBAL AND DIGITAL ERA as recommended by The Executive Board after which the Board discussed several topics suggested by its members as well outside individuals who were considered to be specialists in this subject. These topics form part of our “Call for Papers” for The Zimbabwe International Book Fair Indaba.
As you are aware, the weeklong event consists of the main Indaba, Young Persons Indaba, Writers’ Workshop, The ZIBF Exhibition, Live Literature Centre and the reintroduced Traders’ Day. After reviewing the last Book Fair and noting trends, general comments and recommendations from participants, the Board came up with the following dates for each event:

• ZIBF Indaba July 30 – August 1
• Young Persons Indaba August 2 10 am – 5.00 pm
• Traders’ Day August 1 8.00 am - 1.00 pm
• The ZIBF Exhibition August 2 - 4
• Writers’ Workshop August 4

We are anticipating an improved and significant interest in the Indaba from both presenters and participants and, therefore, have tentatively given it three days. This is not yet official as it depends on the extent of interest we get from presenters and, not the least, funding. However, should we encounter any challenges with the three days, we are flexible enough to revert to the two days as in the last event. Similarly, because we also foresee greater enthusiasm from exhibitors, we have extended the exhibition to three days, before which we have left room for Traders’ Day.

Please, note that although we cannot shift the dates of the ZIBF 2012 WEEK, the dates for the programs remain tentative for the time being, as we are leaving room for contrary suggestions. We expect stakeholders to point out any conflict in the dates well in advance but if we do not hear from them by 28 February 2012, we shall consider that these dates are favourable to all.

CALL FOR ABSTRACTS

We call for presentations that dwell particularly on the comparative experiences of African societies, writing, publishing and copyright.

• We believe the theme for 2012 has a great potential to make the Book Fair relevant to the needs of stakeholders of the book industry in Zimbabwe and Africa namely, publishers, writers, booksellers, librarians, Aripo and Zimcopy, educationists, government and students.

• The ZIBF Indaba 2012 theme provides a platform for critiquing and analysing the constellation of forces impacting on African Literature in the contemporary Digital Era.

• The theme also calls for participants to look into African literary creativity at a time when neoliberal regimes continue to threaten humanities knowledge production about Africa and people of African descent through the world’s fast globalising economies and international relations.

• These forces notwithstanding, it is anticipated that the participants’ responses take in their stride the resilience, impact and influence of the African creative genius on the world global stage.

We look forward to significant excitement and participation from Zimbabwean and African writers and publishers at home and abroad as they take stock of recent developments in information technology and how they have impacted/will impact positively and negatively on the sector in Africa. As usual, African and non-African scholars, writers and publishers outside these groups shall be warmly welcomed to participate according to their respective capacities.
We, therefore, now invite submissions of abstracts from writers and critics, publishers and distributors, and all others who are interested in African Literature.

KEY AREAS OF PRESENTATION
The Conference organisers call upon intending participants to submit abstracts that address – but are not limited to – the following themes:

• The Global Impact of African Literature or
• The Impact of Global Cultures on African Writing
• Problems of African Identities: Past, Present and Future
• Exile and Diaspora Literature of Africa
• Gender, Literature and Social Change Now
• Women’s Literature in Zimbabwe and Africa
• Copyright, Access to Books and Piracy in Africa
• The Digital Divide and the African Child Reader or
• Children’s Literature and the Digital Divide in Contemporary Africa
• Land and Literature in Zimbabwe and Africa
• Literature and Civil Rights and Conflict in Africa
• Global Cultures and the Slow Demise of African Culture and Languages
• African Literature and Technology
• Current Theories of Globalisation and the Global Themes Explored in Contemporary African Literature.


SUBMISSION OF ABSTRACTS

Abstracts of not more than 300 words and enquiries will be received at the following email addresses: execdir@zibfa.org.zw and: events@zibfa.org.zw up to 31 March 2012 for reviewing by the ZIBF Indaba organizers and will be reviewed anonymously. Selected participants will be notified by 30 April 2012 for development of their full conference papers. Papers should be submitted at the above e-mail addresses by 30 June 2012.

+Inserted on 9 February 2012 by Musaemura Zimunya,
Chairperson ZIBFA Executive Board

Yvonne Vera: I laugh even when the roof is falling.

I came across a rare piece of work, the interview that Grace Mutandwa did with the late Writer, Yvonne Vera for the Financial Gazette in May 2002. Wonderful work, Grace! Some bits of it here:

Q: When was the first time you received a prize and what form did it take?
A: My first school prize was in Grade Seven when I was presented with a pair of scissors for the best needlework. The art of needlework often required the patience of good stitching. I still love the creativity of cutting, sewing, choosing fabrics for their emotion and mood. I love the smell of new fabric. When I look at someone, I try to understand what their mode of dress and fabric announces. Clothes have been the greatest adornment in most human societies, our language for courtship, relaxation, celebration and even grief. At that stage, I was overweight and when I went to the stage to get my prize others laughed at me.

Q: When you are not writing, how do you best describe yourself?
A: When I am not writing, which is most of the time… it is as though I am fasting. I am preparing myself. In other words, I no longer know what it is not to be consumed by writing. I anticipate sitting down with a story the way certain women anticipate lovers — with my breath held still, my knees shaking, a tidy room, a clean petticoat, and with no idea how the evening will turn out — in this case the book. I will have had enough intimacies to acquire a general sketch, a thrill and a confidence. It is the same with books as it is with lovers. If you cannot feel your whole body move towards a book, then you are mostly doodling, or being quite separate from the act of writing. I spend many months between books fasting. I am meditative and spend many hours on my own, with my hunger growing. I love writing; it is a feast for my senses. I write to share this feast with a reader.

Q: How long did it take you to get published and what was the title of your first book?
A: I had no great plan of being published really. I perhaps sent a story to a magazine in Toronto and was asked by the publisher if I had more stories. I said yes haphazardly, though I had none. He asked for them. Therefore I set off to write the rest! This was my collection of stories Why Don’t You Carve Other Animals? This was in Toronto of the early nineties.
However I was at that stage already moving back to Zimbabwe. My challenge was to throw out everything I had imagined myself to be, till then. I had discovered writing. I loved to write as much as I loved reading. As a reader of books, I had never matched the authors’ joy in writing to my own experience of reading; but it is equal. All those marvellous sensations that keep us glued to a book also belong to the author, and are even more magnified.

Q: How did this discovery feel?
A: To discover this was magical; writing was another way of reading. It was simply like turning over in bed. I still did not see myself as a writer, just someone who had discovered a private joy. I was twenty-seven. After my first novel Nehanda, my life changed dramatically. I felt a tremendous warmth for Zimbabwean writers and my country's literature. I was yet to learn what an enormous discipline writing requires. It is as vastly rewarding as it is demanding. It requires you to be still, to listen to each word as it wraps around a thought. I have to exist completely in another world for as long as it takes for the story to be told. I write for about nine to ten hours a day without disturbance, therefore I have to move from society in these times - telephones, the day's mail, meals, the price of milk. I fill the fridge with quick foods to last a long time - forty yoghurts, cheese and dry bread. I cook after four days perhaps and, like a caveman, salivate at the taste of a fried egg. I have fruit salads, which I prepare quickly in a 30-minute lunch break and slide back to my desk - my mind never wanders form the page. I respect what I am doing. I am willing to protect this creative moment and can give up friendships for it, even permanently. I have never regretted claiming this sort of space. Fortunately, generous and giving colleagues and family members surround me; I am even luckier in my friends who seem to understand too well my desires for solitude.

Q: How do people react when they see you for the first time and are some readers justified in assuming that your books are mostly about yourself?
A: Often people expect me to be taller. Someone walked up to me and said she had expected me to have wider shoulders! It is hard to smile in such situations. Sometimes the events I write about are believed to have happened to me. When people look at me as though I have just been raped, then it is hard to return that gaze with anything else but an impatience for the moment to pass. I also wonder if all the people who say these things have met me or if they are looking at a bad photograph in a magazine.

Q: When you laugh, you radiate the makings of a free spirit but why do you always relate such sad tales?
A: I learnt to laugh freely from my mother. She is a woman with vitality and much harmony in her bones. I watched her for years and only learnt this freedom from her in my thirties, after 1995. I do not laugh often, but with the right friends I do - like my best friend Mandi - we laugh even when the roof is falling. With over-confident people, bureaucratic men, gregarious administrators and government officers, or even a meticulous lover, prison walls spring up and I am trapped in my own body.

Fire in the classroom

…one day Nakai accidentally dropped her ruler and it fell onto the floor with a clattering sound. Everyone stopped reading and writing and turned their heads.

“Sorry, madam,” Nakai said.

“Come here,” Ms Chirara said to Nakai. When she was angry, her dimples disappeared. “Come here, girl.” She said to Nakai. She was very cross with Nakai.

Nakai went to the teacher’s table. “I am sorry,” Nakai repeated

“You know me, Nakai” the teacher said. “Bend down and touch the table.”

Nakai was sorry. She was just a girl of nine who had just made a mistake. Nakai bent down and touched the table. Whack! Whack! The rubber rod sang on Nakai’s back. It was not a good thing.

Nakai cried out in pain. The whole class cheered. Nakai looked at the teacher without blinking. She was in so much pain. She continued to stare at the teacher without blinking. Teachers do not know how angry their pupils become when they hit them. It is bad to be hit by your teacher when you like her so much.

“My God, fire!” the teacher suddenly cried out. The teacher staggered back from Nakai. She dropped the rubber rod and held her chest, “Fire! Nakai, you are killing me!”

Nakai did not see any fire. She was only angry with Ms Chirara. All the other students saw no fire as well. They only saw Ms Chirara holding her chest and crying like a baby.

Nakai was still angry. She looked straight at the teacher and the teacher cried out again, “Fire! Nakai, stop it! Do not burn me.” Then she pleaded, clapping her hands, “Nakai. Nakai, my dear!” The teacher staggered and went out of the room. “I am burning up, Nakai!”

In silence Nakai walked back to her place. There were tears in her eyes. She had dropped the ruler on the floor by mistake. She was just a grade 4 girl who stayed at Number 1890 Mutamba Circle. She sat on her desk and cried. It was not nice to see Nakai crying. Her friends Nyasha, Tsitsi and Marita started crying too.

A big boy called Hardline asked loudly, “What is the fire about, people? Ms Chirara talked about fire. Nakai, what was it all about?”

“I do not know anything,” Nakai said, crying. She did not know anything. Nyasha, Tsitsi and Marita knew Nakai very well but they all did not know anything about the fire.”

Just as they were all settling and getting quiet, Ms Chirara came back into the room with the headmaster. He was called Mr. Pasi. The boys called him Danger because he was short tampered and you did not want to make him angry.

Ms Chirara kept holding her chest. There were tears in the corners of her eyes. Nobody wanted to see Ms Chirara crying. She was a pretty woman with nice dimples. Now she looked sad and it was not good.

Ms. Chirara and the headmaster came very gradually to Nakai’s desk.

“How are you, girl?” the headmaster said.

“Fine and how are you, sir?” Nakai said.

“What was it about?” the headmaster asked and touched Nakai calmly on the shoulder.

“It was a mistake, sir. I dropped a ruler and she hit me. I said I was sorry but she hit me. I love her but she hit me.” Nakai began to cry.

“What about the fire that burnt Ms Chirara?” the headmaster asked

“What fire sir?” Nakai replied. She was surprised. The whole class was surprised.

“You caused the fire that burnt Ms Chirara, didn’t you?”

Nakai was surprised. She did not know about any fire. She was only allowed to make a fire at home when they was a power-cut. She was not allowed to make fires. Children were not allowed to make fires. She got frightened and began to cry. She liked Ms Chirara and the headmaster but why were they thinking that she made fires without permission? She burst out very loudly, crying.

Then the headmaster who was still holding Nakai’s shoulder suddenly screamed and shot up, “I’m burnt! Oh my God!” He ran towards the door rubbing his hands and looking at them. He looked round and said, “Nakai, come out. Come to my office right now!” He looked at his hands and at Nakai.

There was silence in the classroom and then Ms Chirara said to the headmaster, “I told you, sir. It is real fire.”

The three walked out. Ms Chirara followed by Nakai and the headmaster.They got into the headmaster’s office. They sat down. They were all very puzzled. Mr. Pasi was a serious big man and nobody wanted to trouble him. Ms Chirara was a pretty woman. Nakai was a simple grade four girl and now they were talking about a fire that she did not understand…. (extract from Toriro and His Goats)

Fire in the classroom

…one day Nakai accidentally dropped her ruler and it fell onto the floor with a clattering sound. Everyone stopped reading and writing and turned their heads.

“Sorry, madam,” Nakai said.

“Come here,” Ms Chirara said to Nakai. When she was angry, her dimples disappeared. “Come here, girl.” She said to Nakai. She was very cross with Nakai.

Nakai went to the teacher’s table. “I am sorry,” Nakai repeated

“You know me, Nakai” the teacher said. “Bend down and touch the table.”

Nakai was sorry. She was just a girl of nine who had just made a mistake. Nakai bent down and touched the table. Whack! Whack! The rubber rod sang on Nakai’s back. It was not a good thing.

Nakai cried out in pain. The whole class cheered. Nakai looked at the teacher without blinking. She was in so much pain. She continued to stare at the teacher without blinking. Teachers do not know how angry their pupils become when they hit them. It is bad to be hit by your teacher when you like her so much.

“My God, fire!” the teacher suddenly cried out. The teacher staggered back from Nakai. She dropped the rubber rod and held her chest, “Fire! Nakai, you are killing me!”

Nakai did not see any fire. She was only angry with Ms Chirara. All the other students saw no fire as well. They only saw Ms Chirara holding her chest and crying like a baby.

Nakai was still angry. She looked straight at the teacher and the teacher cried out again, “Fire! Nakai, stop it! Do not burn me.” Then she pleaded, clapping her hands, “Nakai. Nakai, my dear!” The teacher staggered and went out of the room. “I am burning up, Nakai!”

In silence Nakai walked back to her place. There were tears in her eyes. She had dropped the ruler on the floor by mistake. She was just a grade 4 girl who stayed at Number 1890 Mutamba Circle. She sat on her desk and cried. It was not nice to see Nakai crying. Her friends Nyasha, Tsitsi and Marita started crying too.

A big boy called Hardline asked loudly, “What is the fire about, people? Ms Chirara talked about fire. Nakai, what was it all about?”

“I do not know anything,” Nakai said, crying. She did not know anything. Nyasha, Tsitsi and Marita knew Nakai very well but they all did not know anything about the fire.”

Just as they were all settling and getting quiet, Ms Chirara came back into the room with the headmaster. He was called Mr. Pasi. The boys called him Danger because he was short tampered and you did not want to make him angry.

Ms Chirara kept holding her chest. There were tears in the corners of her eyes. Nobody wanted to see Ms Chirara crying. She was a pretty woman with nice dimples. Now she looked sad and it was not good.

Ms. Chirara and the headmaster came very gradually to Nakai’s desk.

“How are you, girl?” the headmaster said.

“Fine and how are you, sir?” Nakai said.

“What was it about?” the headmaster asked and touched Nakai calmly on the shoulder.

“It was a mistake, sir. I dropped a ruler and she hit me. I said I was sorry but she hit me. I love her but she hit me.” Nakai began to cry.

“What about the fire that burnt Ms Chirara?” the headmaster asked

“What fire sir?” Nakai replied. She was surprised. The whole class was surprised.

“You caused the fire that burnt Ms Chirara, didn’t you?”

Nakai was surprised. She did not know about any fire. She was only allowed to make a fire at home when they was a power-cut. She was not allowed to make fires. Children were not allowed to make fires. She got frightened and began to cry. She liked Ms Chirara and the headmaster but why were they thinking that she made fires without permission? She burst out very loudly, crying.

Then the headmaster who was still holding Nakai’s shoulder suddenly screamed and shot up, “I’m burnt! Oh my God!” He ran towards the door rubbing his hands and looking at them. He looked round and said, “Nakai, come out. Come to my office right now!” He looked at his hands and at Nakai.

There was silence in the classroom and then Ms Chirara said to the headmaster, “I told you, sir. It is real fire.”

The three walked out. Ms Chirara followed by Nakai and the headmaster.
They got into the headmaster’s office. They sat down. They were all very puzzled. Mr. Pasi was a serious big man and nobody wanted to trouble him. Ms Chirara was a pretty woman. Nakai was a simple grade four girl and now they were talking about a fire that she did not understand…. (extract from Toriro and His Goats)