Bryony's Blog

  Whenever my daughter wants to imitate me, she will assume a wistful tone, look into the distance and say something along the lines of: ‘When I was a child, none of the gardens had walls.   We just roamed free, wandering across neighbours’ lawns, picking flowers and swinging from the trees. Nobody locked their doors either, so we just walked through their houses as well, helping ourselves to whatever we wanted.’ Ok, I get the point.   It is easy to look back at the past through rose-drenched glasses and imagine a fairytale world in which there was no crime and everyone loved each other.   It’s par for the course when you get to a certain age and even more common in older Zimbabweans who view the past as a virtual Eden from which they have been ejected. I will try and be as objective as possible.   We were never like some parts of the world, like America, where one lawn seems to run into another and where boundaries are marked by driveways.   When I was...

   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 ...

Sunday, April 15, 2018 'This September Sun' in Art This September Sun (Catherine Phillips) ' Nothing is Certain' is an exhibition of twelve experimental abstract paintings by Catherine Phillips based on book titles. The exhibition, which is part of a wider project celebrating books and libraries, is at Putney Library, Disraeli Road, in London until 27th April 2018. One of the paintings is inspired by Bryony Rheam's novel This September Sun , which is published by amaBooks in Zimbabwe, by Parthian Books in the United Kingdom, by Longhorn in Kenya and, soon, by Al Arabi in Arabic. The Zimbabwean cover of the book is based on a painting by the Zimbabwean artist Jeanette Johnstone. The books celebrated in the exhibition are: Designing with Natural Forms by Natalie d’Arbeloff Good Morning, Midnight by Jean Rhys Rhapsody in Green by Charlotte Mendelsohn Spirals in Time by Helen Scales Sunquakes by J. B. Zirker The B...

In a hot, airless little room in Bulawayo, an elderly man rummages through disintegrating brown envelopes and rusty files.   Faint labels carry captions such as: ‘Railway Staff 1932-33’ and ‘Wages March 1952’.   There are dusty black and white photographs on the wall of men in dark suits and hats.   Unsmiling, they all look alarmingly similar with their handle-bar moustaches and their arms crossed resolutely across their chests.                 ‘No.   I thought I might have something, but no.’ He reluctantly admits defeat, so convinced was he that he might be able to help me in my search. I am in the archives of the Railway Museum in Bulawayo.   The buildings themselves are run down and we are surrounded by the great hulks of rusting train carcasses. The museum, now a separate entity from the National Railways of Zimbabwe, is run by a couple of train enthusiasts, who are extremely kn...

Ebook of the Month: This September Sun by Bryony Rheam February’s  ebook of the month  is  This September Sun .  Published by Parthian in 2012, it is now available in ebook format from all good online stores –  a new chance to discover the book or read it again.   Originally published in Zimbabwe by amaBooks,  This September Sun  is a moving story about deception, family secrets and, above all, love; following the lives of Ellie, a shy girl growing up in post-Independence Zimbabwe, and her grandmother, whose secret affair with a married man is discovered in her old diaries. With this revelation, Ellie must reconsider her relationship with her grandmother and face up to some truths about herself.   In  This September Sun , Bryony Rheam addresses the political and social situation of White Zimbabwe from the 1940s to the present day, addressing current affairs relating to Mugabe’s rule and the history of what once was Rhodesia. Sh...

Stories about Africa do not have to be about starvation says Bryony Rheam by Our Correspondent, Western Mail Aug 11 2012 Add a comment Recommend (3) in Share 2 Share on email Share on print It’s a long way from Zimbabwe to Swansea, but good stories travel well. Which is why Welsh publisher Parthian published the winner of the Zimbabwean Best First Novel Award. Author, Bryony Rheam, basks in the background to This September Sun I’ve always believed I was born in the wrong age. I should have been born in the ’20s or ’30s and lived in a large house in the British countryside. There would have been a cook, at least two maids, a gardener and perhaps even a nanny thrown in for good measure. I’d go to boarding school and, in the holidays, I’d explore the nearby woods and find fairies and pixies and elves and we’d all have such splendid fun. Considering the reading matter I was exposed to as a child, this idea of myself is not surpri...

If I had to name one major difference between my life in Zimbabwe and my present life here in Zambia, it would be this:  that here I feel I don't have enough time and that my life lacks an adequate structure that would enable me to have more time.  Some may say this is a natural consequence of having two young children and that I would feel this lack of time wherever I lived in the world.  But it is more than that: it is something to do with the way time is measured and the importance placed on it. "For I have known them all already, known them all: /Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons, /  I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;"  laments T.S. Eliot's Mr Prufrock, and although his song may suggest a certain weariness with the routine of life, it is this very routine that gave my life in Zimbabwe a sense of harmony and rhythm, however hard the situation became. When I was pregnant with my first child, and regularly regaled with ...