Bryony's Blog

It took me a long time to realise that my birth in Africa was not accidental, that growing up in Zimbabwe was not a wrong that had to be put right by leaving the country, and that continuing to live here, to have my children born here, and to call myself an African writer was not a wild, audacious statement that should be corrected and apologised for. It took me a long time to call this continent my home.     Like many white people in Africa, I grew up straddling two worlds. I read Enid Blyton and looked for fairies and elves amongst the bougainvillea and mango trees.  I thought snake holes would take me to the Mad Hatter's tea party.  Christmas in the heat and humidity of December always felt wrong; we should have snowmen and mistletoe, go sledging and sing Christmas carols wrapped in scarves and coats. The two worlds were something we took in our stride without much questioning.  We knew how to navigate them, how to be both white and African at the same time. ...

   My elderly friend and I are discussing the possibility of becoming gold dealers.  It seems everyone is at it these days.  I recently contacted someone who did some work on our driveway a couple of years ago and discovered he no longer does crazy paving; instead, he has become a gold dealer in Esigodeni. I imagine him meeting customers in the back room of some shabby establishment or drawing up next to them in the car park of some shebeen and handing over a bag of gold nuggets in exchange for large wads of money.  'You'd never do it,' says my friend.  'You'd be caught almost immediately.' I must say, I am a little offended.  I don't particularly want to be a gold dealer, but nor do I like being told I lack the ability to be one. However, I know what she means.  I'd be too nice.  Of course, that might just be my  modus operandi.   It would certainly provide a good cover and it save me the need to meet clients in dodgy hotels i...

    I am often asked by friends and family who don't live in Zimbabwe why we still stay here. It is not a question that is easily answered, except to say why does anyone live anywhere?  We all have things to complain about wherever we are in the world.  Those who don't experience power or water cuts will complain about traffic jams or the weather.  Nowhere is perfect. Recently, I wrote on Facebook how excited we were when the electricity, that had been off for nine days, came back on.  It was actually longer as we had had nearly a week prior to this of being one phase down, so we had no lights, but some sockets worked and half of the stove as well. Nine days is by no means a long time at all to go without electricity, and nor is two weeks.  Some people I know have gone without for three to six months, a year even.  I am sure there are those on my Facebook page who even wonder why I mention it at all. Surely this is to be expected when you live in ...