Book Review: Black Ass by A. Igoni Barrett | Annet Twinokwesiga

My initial thought about the title Black Ass was free from any racial connotations. A book by an African author had to be about a great African experience that I was yet to read about. And yes, this particular one was different, nothing like what I had been reading.

Igoni Barrett writes about a 33-year-old African man, Furo Warikobo, born in Lagos, who wakes up one morning and he is white, an unlikely transformation with even more unlikely first effects. In a panic, Furo escapes the house without being seen by his family and goes for his job interview. Understandably disoriented and confused by his new transformation, he decides not to return home. He encounters more disorientation on the streets, a white man in a sea of black. But his fortunes turn at a job interview when he’s given attention and respect because he’s white. He gets a senior level marketing job on the spot despite his low credentials. What gives him an edge is familiarity with Nigerian culture; the accent and fluent dialect. Only his name makes his new complexion questionable.

Some of the perks of this new identity include; random women on the street trying to help him get a taxi because the drivers hike their rates at the sight of an “Oyibo” (white person). A beautiful woman in the rich neighborhood of Victoria Island, Syreeta, takes Furo in. She feeds him, sleeps with him, and buys him new clothes all for seemingly nothing, except the privilege of showing him off to her friends married to white men. It is when Furo is living with Syreeta that we learn that his transformation was not as clear-cut as assumed. His ass remains richly black. Later on in the book, we also encounter Igoni, a writer who changes into a woman. Despite her big boobs and curves, Igoni now known as Morpheus, still has a penis. Unfortunately, hers/his was a transformation that wasn’t fully explored by the book.

If you have read Black Ass, you know for certain all that I’ve written so far; therefore I will share my sentiments. First things first, I did not complete reading the book in its entirety however, I was very lucky to discuss it on two occasions. First with the #MEiREAD fireplace by Sooo Many Stories and secondly, in presence of the author A. Igoni Barrett, at this year’s Writivism Literary Festival.

For me to get a book and actually sit down and turn its pages, happens after I’ve read a couple of reviews about it. Black Ass was not an exception to this ritual. I got mixed sentiments from other readers too, one to be exact, that said, “Do yourself a favour and stop in the middle, the last half of the book is horrible.” This gave me more reason to find out what was in the last half of the book. One review called it “a comedy of manners where the author captures his characters’ every foible and amplifies it for effect.”

As a reader, I began to understand how far people, specifically Nigerians, ridiculously go in order to appear important. This can be seen clearly in a section of the book where Furo’s sister uses Twitter as a medium to publicise her search for her missing brother. I also found it interesting that even with the existing statistical information about unemployment, a sudden twist of fate was a clear solution for an unemployed young Nigerian: the mere change of skin. Here in Uganda, I like to believe that if I suddenly woke up as a white woman my fortune would turn in regard to getting a very good job or being treated with utmost respect.

Although the collision of Furo’s new world with old self; where he lived with his parents, happens towards the end of the book, the author intentionally shows us how our choices or decisions as individuals are mutually exclusive from what society or family expects from us. Furo is torn between his desperate need for money and status and his attachment to his family back home.

According to the author, the book is meant to start a discourse about change in society which for me was very literal yet relatable. Literal in the sense that the author had to transform (change) an African character into a white man and relatable in how he shows society’s reactions to this unlikely transformation.

The decisive point is that A. Igoni Barrett opened a can of worms in regard to the several interesting ideas he introduces in Black Ass and I had hoped that they would all be explored.

Annet Twinokwesiga is a regular member of The Fireplace: #MEiREAD, our book club for adults. Want to read about that time we hosted Igoni Barrett? Go here: The Fireplace: #MEiREAD Black Ass (with Igoni Barrett)

The Fireplace: #MEiREAD – Black Ass (With Igoni Barrett)

For all those that missed the recently concluded Writivism festival, a part of me really wants to disown you. A really small part though. Mostly I want to rave about all the awesome authors we were able to interact with, the deep discussion panels we sat on, Kemiyondo Courtinho’s Kawuna: You’re It, eh! The list is long.

For today though let me dive into our Writivism edition of The Fireplace: #MEiREAD. The book we were reading this month was A. Igoni Barrett’s Black Ass, and we had the absolute honor of hosting the author as we dissected and discussed his book! The engagement was colorful to say the least as lots of character analyzation and theme examination took place. People both praised and criticized the book throughout the discussion and Igoni had such enlightening responses to each comment.

The theme most heavily explored within Black Ass is (obviously) racism. The main character, Furo, wakes up one day and finds he has transformed from a typical black Nigerian man, to a Cacausian. Because Igoni chose to keep his main character in Lagos, the book looks at a type of racism not often talked about. Racism against your own kind. With his new skin colour, so many doors magically open up for Furo. He gets a really well-paying job at the snap of a finger – with absolutely no experience in said field. He receives extreme kindness from total strangers – the beautiful Syreeta goes as far as letting him have her spare room rent-free and paying for his new passport, all without asking too many questions, these being favours he probably would not have easily come by as a black man.

Cue the discussion on the inferiority complex a lot of Africans seem to suffer as a result of colonialism. Many people spoke on their experiences at restaurants, bookshops, airports, you name it – where everyone that is not black seems to outrank any African in the place. Similar experiences were talked about in regard to discrimination under tribe and even religion. Igoni emphasized the importance of speaking out against these states of mind especially when one of our members brought up the idea already planted in her 5-year old niece’s mind that darker skin = inferior. We need to work at empowering these young minds and ensuring that that ‘inferior’ state of mind is not something that affects them.

“We have to become thinking, reflective people” – A. Igoni Barrett

Igoni brought to light the fact that a lot of us tend towards racism and other forms of discrimination even unconsciously. We will hold a white person’s opinion or approval over a fellow Ugandans’s for example. Or even be more careful in conversation, try too hard not to step on toes, simply because the other person is white. I was challenged to assess my own life for unconscious bias that grow into life-shaping ideas. Do I view my country as inferior to many others? My people? My sex? Only self-reflection can answer these questions. Self-reflection and exposure. We need to educate ourselves. For a long term change, we need to change mindsets.

Also explored was the topic of transgenderism. Very briefly looked at in the book, there were some members that found the addition a little redundant, but after listening to Igoni’s explanation, they might have changed their minds.

He specifically choose to add a transgender character because of the similarities he feels can be seen when looking at racism and sexism. So as he explored the change of a black man to white, he found Igoni’s (The transgender character) story flowing in the direction of a man-to-woman sex change. As minor an addition as it was, it brings to the forefront, the discussion on trangederism especially here in Africa. As a continent, it is a notion we are still adjusting to. The exploration of that type of change encourages narrative around this topic.

“You are a product of where you are from, but you can make the decision to change that.” – A. Igoni Barrett

We also spoke briefly about social media and how people present themselves on different platforms. This is a topic that one of the characters, Igoni is quite vocal about. It was concluded that we can never really tell who a person is via social media even though we do fell like we know them. Social media is very highly edited and people will only present a certain part of their lives that they want you to see.

All in all, it was an extremely engaging session and very eye-opening for all those that attended.

Special thanks to all that attended this edition of The Fireplace: #MEiREAD. And of course incredible thanks to A. Igoni Barrett for his engaging conversation and reception.

The next #MEiREAD book club is scheduled for 12^th September at Kahwa2Go, Ntinda Complex, 6pm to 8pm. This time we want to read and discuss YOUR work! Join us as we dissect unpublished work by our very own book club members. Submit your work to kaboozi@somanystories.ug before 9th September and be a book club Author for the day.

At The Fireplace: #MEiREAD; The Enkare Review

The Enkare review, a Nairobi based literary online magazine, is in the business of sating all those that hunger for interactive and creative pieces. Although based in Nairobi, they accept submissions from all over the world and recently released a collection of short stories which we had the pleasure of discussing at our July Fireplace: #MEiREAD.

The collection circulated (available here: The Enkare Review) had 5 stories and we engaged in a very colourful discussion of two of them. We began with The Somalifiction of James Karangi by Abdul Adan which, set in Kenya, explores the issue of tribalism especially when it comes to marriage. James Karangi, a Kikuyu man, wants to marry Ayan a Somali woman. Her entire family seems to be against the union except a cousin of hers, Khalid, that finds a way to render the union acceptable in the eyes of Ayan’s family; they will ‘somalify’ James Karangi. Employing very extensive methods, even going as far as partially choking James for him to attain the Somali accent, Khalid takes this ‘Somalification’ process so seriously, to a point that the reader might find themselves laughing and then reining themselves in as they remember that James is actually suffering at the hands of this ludicrousness.

The story brought to the forefront the discussion of tribalism here in Uganda. What role does tribe play in deciding my significant other, given the urban progression of our society? If it plays a major role, can it be justified? Does it perhaps depend on how much I myself subscribe to my tribe’s norms and cultures? The idea of tribe as a choice was looked at with some of the readers agreeing that in today’s day and age, it isn’t entirely realistic to refuse to marry someone based solely on their tribe. Some other forms of ‘tribalism’ were highlighted. Family status and social standing for example, seem to have solidified themselves as the new ‘tribe’ classification. Religion being another one.

Squad by Linda Musita, a popular one if social media activity was anything to go by, was the second story we discussed. Linda, in the style of dialogue, dissects the modern day urban-african clique of women. Two women sit down to tea and as they converse, another group of women walks in. One of the two women knows them and begins to poke and pick at the identities each of them seem to have crafted for themselves. She calls out their brand(s) of feminism, a term which they all seem to have interpreted differently; most through excessive sexual expression, and all, despite claiming feminism, turning on each other just as soon as their backs are turned.

For this tale, feminism was the direction the conversation took. What is it in fact, feminism? Are we to assign our definitions given circumstance? What about within the African context? Is feminism a foreign concept, one borrowed from the West that we are pathetically trying to fit into our own society? Or do we as African women own feminism in a way that is just as timeless as the West – from the chiefs and matriarchal societies we hear of (Nigerian Zazzau, Sudanese Kandake, Angolan Nzinga, and Ashanti of Ghana to name but a few) – but one that is our own nonetheless? As the conversation heated up, we began to digress. Can a man be a feminist? Or, because feminism essentially means his loss of privilege, is that an impossibility? There was concern over women that wanted to brand feminism in ways that diverted completely from the principles; women that are comfortable with certain aspects of patriarchy and advocate therefore for “different forms of feminism”. They seem to validate the statement, ‘the first people to oppress the oppressed are the oppressed.’

It was an extremely engaging discussion all in all, and at the end of the evening it was clear our particular bunch could wind up talking all night given the heated nature of the topics. We wish you had all been able to attend! Even if you weren’t though we would love to know; what are your thoughts on tribalism and feminism today? What Enkare Review stories stood out for you?

This month we’re reading Black Ass by Igoni Barrett, a book about a Black Nigerian man who one day wakes up as a white man. We will meet on 15th August at Kahwa2Go at 6pm for The Fireplace: #MEiREAD. This time though, there’s a little something extra! On 20th August, we’ll host The Fireplace: #MEiREAD at The Writivism Festival and get to meet Igoni Barrett and discuss the book with him.

Get yourself a copy at Aristoc Booklex and see you soon?

Nick Makoha: Writing and trying to increase possibilities for success

Nicholas Makoha is a dynamic writer and poet of Ugandan origin, raised and currently residing in London, UK. He is the 2016 winner of the Toi Derricotte & Cornelius Eady Chapbook Prize for his manuscript Resurrection Man, soon to be published. He won the 2015 Brunel International African Poetry Prize and is on the 2017 shortlist for the same prize. Nick was in Uganda recently to launch his first poetry collection, Kingdom of Gravity and oversee a workshop of budding Ugandan writers organised by Writivism. Over drinks, we had a chance to chat.

When was the last time you were back in Kampala?

I was here for my sister’s wedding in 2015. So being back here has been really good; I got to spend sometime with my dad and his family and spend some time with my sister. Yeah, my sister has pretty much hijacked me every night. (laughs)

You’ve interacted with a few creatives here in Uganda. Give me three words you would use to describe the creative climate in Uganda right now.

What’s clear is a passion for creating initiatives for writers. I definitely want to be a part of that. I am not an expert myself, but wherever I can contribute to my own people and towards African literature, I’m interested in that conversation.

What I would say is it’s also relatively new, a new phase of the literature experience. There is a possibility that groundbreaking work can be done with the writers of this generation.

My third word would be open. The writers are open; at least the ones I’ve been working with. They are open to the ideas and challenges I’ve put before them. I’m quite a hard taskmaster, and they’ve been positively responsive to that.

At what point in your education or your life did you realise that the creative path was yours?

There are different parts to this answer. If I’m looking back now, I can say I was always a creative but being from a Ugandan and African background, our parents taught us to be scientific. They wanted us to be accountants lawyers, you know. So I was following that path because I was good at those things but I think when I was at university, the creative spark started to show. On the weekends a friend of mine was attending a drama school and he invited some of us to go along and we started to do drama, started to sing. I was there for two years because you could only stay till a certain age. And on our graduation day which was a showcase, I shared some poetry, instead of singing or acting. It wasn’t that good in hindsight but it was the beginning of me exposing myself to the outside world as a poet because internally I always considered myself one. That’s when it started for me. As I left university, I started to perform in spoken word clubs all over the city. Then at some point I wanted to make it a career. So I remember sitting at my desk in the bank and thinking you know what? I can’t see my life being this. I wanted to do something that would inspire my to-be wife and children. And what was I passionate about? Poetry. I didn’t know how I was gonna make it work but I knew I had to.

What was your family’s reaction? Did you feel pressure to stay within the conventional working system?

I don’t think that pressure is just from family, I think its societal. One of the things we were discussing in the Kampala workshop is the world’s view of the writer. Writers are considered romantics, day dreamers, lazy and drunks. So a lot of the time I had to hear these jives either from my family members or friends or people I’d meet. You have to find a way to be gracious about it and not let it hurt you. It’s upsetting but if you let that win then you will stop trying to make it. And there are no set paths especially for a writer of colour, you know. I didn’t go to Oxford or Cambridge. I didn’t study English at university level. It wasn’t set for me to be a writer, so I have literally carved my own career.

So let’s talk about that a bit. You being a man of colour. How does it influence your work? Has it been a struggle establishing yourself in the creative industry in a country where racism is quite prevalent.

It is a struggle because people see my colour before they see me and they have their prejudices towards me even before they’ve heard a word out of my mouth. So a lot of time I’m having to navigate through people’s prejudice before they can actually take me seriously or navigate through my own prejudices so that I can take myself seriously. I was listening to a talk the other day and someone asked, “Does a white man ever have to think about the colour of his skin before doing anything?’” Well, I have to. A situation in which I raise my voice will make me look excessively aggressive and I’m just raising my voice or I could be in a neighbourhood and I automatically become the attacker. Does that mean I am not allowed to be scared in that situation? See you are robbing me of parts of my humanity, merely because you have a perception of who I am because of the colour of my skin. This is something I have to negotiate daily, no day off. And not that I allow it to affect me, it’s just a constant reality.

In society generally, opportunities that might be available to many other groups are not necessarily always available to people of colour.

Would you consider yourself a successful artist monetary wise?

Hmmm…not yet. Not monetarily. When I land the big house and nice car, no worries about bills then I can say I have arrived. But I think I am reaching my peak in artistic terms. Winning awards, being able to go on certain courses, having my book published. I think I am a better writer today than the young man that performed at his graduation. I am however, still a work in progress.

Any advice for the creatives that might be struggling to leave the creative industry for the uncertain income of the creative path?

Money is always going to be a problem. (Laughs) But I think it begins with perceiving yourself as an international artist. That is, I had to be open to where I could go around the world or even within my own city to develop my writing. So I haven’t got the money but let me start earning through commissions etc, as I improve my craft. Because if I write better the possibility of getting published increases. So you are always trying to increase the possibility for success.

I think you also need to build a community of good writers and mentors around you. Almost like building an infrastructure. I have always been surrounded by mentors and attended workshops that have allowed me to become the writer I am today.

Also, don’t focus too much on whether there is money or not, if you are a writer, you write. Just do it! Not that money will take care of itself, but it’s more about cultivating the craft and discipline of writing.

Let’s talk a bit about the Youth Poetry Network. Describe that for me.

I used to work with an organisation called Apples and Snakes and I had some friends who were writers and they and a lot of people were calling me to work with younger age groups. So the Youth Poetry Network was setup to help young people. What I realised is a lot of young people go through trauma and if you ask a child to sit and write, they are not going to want to write if they can’t even talk to their dad or if mum is suffering cancer. Because as children we are kind of silenced, with not as many avenues as adults to talk about the things we want to. So the Youth Poetry Network just gives them the space to talk freely or write freely. And what that did is they began to see language as a bridge to communicating with the world.

Thinking of bringing it into Africa and Uganda in particular?

Well I’ve had conversations with a few organisations. I want to give back to my community. So as much as I live in England, I am Ugandan, and I want to contribute especially to the next generation of writers, so this is the frontier for me. This is the first official workshop that I have run in Africa, in Uganda, so I’m hoping there will be many more of these scenarios. I don’t really want these one off ventures. I am hoping more for a hub of writers, within Uganda, East Africa and the whole continent, looking to improve their craft just as I am constantly improving mine.

All the best in your future endeavors Nick, as you continue to take on the literary world by storm.

You can read some of Makoha’s poetry here: Death-Fall and LRH

#WCW: Lulu Jemimah taking one for Ugandan Literature

Lulu engaging our toddlers at The Fireplace: Tot Tales

Lulu Jemimah is a Ugandan writer who has worked with The Daily Monitor, one of the leading dailies in Uganda and has written film scripts and for live skits and radio.

Lulu also runs a podcast, RealTalk256 where you get to hear different Ugandan stories, stories you will not hear or read about in mainstream media but stories that exist nonetheless.

But at Sooo Many Stories, Lulu is the one that lights up our faces at our book club for children, The Fireplace: Tot Tales. Lulu immerses herself in the stories and breaks them down in ways even the four year olds really get them.

Best news for Lulu this year ? That she was accepted at Oxford University. The worst news? She can’t afford Oxford.

Esther Nshakira spoke to Lulu in this interview on her life as a writer and why this course means so much to her.

Who are your top three African authors?

Not sure about favourites but I would recommend Taiye Selasie, Leila Aboulela and Ama Ata Aidoo.

And your top three African books?

Half of a Yellow Sun by Chimamanda and Changes: A Love Story by Ama Ata Aidoo. In Uganda, for its reference to history and Ugandan folktales Kintu by Jeniffer Nansubuga Makumbi deserves a special mention.

What do books(does reading) mean to you?

It is like getting hugged from the inside.

As part of The Fireplace: Tot Tales, what would you tell parents about books and children that they need to know?

A child is only going to get as interested as you are. Books create a sense of curiosity and adventure. My mom didn’t like us reading any “evil books” but she made us read the bible and when she returned home we would tell her what we had learnt. That sense of questioning and explaining led me to journalism and here we are.

How long have you been writing?

I remember writing my first short novels in P5 at Kitante Primary School. At the time, I was reading Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys and my own writing was highly plagiarised versions where I wrote myself into these stories as the heroin. The name would always be changed to Lisa or Nunu. I used to write chapters a week, read them out to friends and the demand to write more frequently finally made me give them up all together.

Did you do a related course for school or is this a new direction for you education-wise?

For my first degree I wanted to do journalism but my parents who had just learnt about human resource courses and their potential financial benefits pushed me in that direction instead. I was working as a freelance journalist already and spent more time in the newsroom than I did the lecture halls. My grades suffered so I continued writing and eventually went back for a degree in Arts/Media on a scholarship to Australia.

My sister studied human resource and our parents were right about the income compared to that of a writer.

So…Oxford? Congratulations! Why is this such a big deal for you and Ugandan writing?

From my experience, Ugandan literature is still sorely under-represented to the point where it is easier to find works of other African Authors than it is to find local literature in Uganda. This is not to say there is an issue with other works being readily available because my own writing has been influenced by works from different cultures.
While I did my degree in Arts/Media in Australia, I was surprised when Chimamanda’s Nigerian stories were studied in class. I did an online university library search for Ugandan stories and found none. I don’t know why I was surprised because even in Uganda, Ugandan literature isn’t studied adequately let alone duly recognised. I recently met Gerald Malinga, a Ugandan author of two books and a play. He was walking around door-to-door trying to sell his books even if they are already on Amazon. Ugandan Literature needs more exposure through academic analysis so hard-working local authors don’t have to go begging people to buy their work.

What I love most about this course is that it emphasises both creative writing and critical scholarly analysis. My focus is going to be on Ugandan stories, folklore and more. It also covers different genres from radio, theatre, novels, short stories, poetry, television and film. I have already started exploring different ways of storytelling through this podcast RealTalk256.

I have been given an even better opportunity to improve how I expose local stories at an international level. I am not claiming I can change all this in two years but I am excited to focus on works from here in my academic research.

Help our Lulu by making a contribution here or sharing her story: Help Me Fulfill My Oxford Dream