Two weeks ago, I decided to read and judge all the short stories in Jalada’s Afrofuture(s) anthology, my little side project to run in tandem with the official Jalada Prize. Marvelous collection! I do have some issues (of course). I will post commentary on the Jalada’s Afrofuture(s) anthology and its stories later today or tomorrow. But I urge y’all to read the anthology.
Regarding my shadow list, I’ve assumed that stories, by judges of the Prize and folks connected with Kwani?, may not be eligible. So while the following stories are among my selected best in the anthology, I’ve nonetheless excluded them from my longlist:
- “Imaginum” by Moses Kilolo
- “A Brief History on Nonduality Studies” by Sofia Samatar
- “Boonoonoonoos little bit Boonoonoonoos” by Binyavanga Wainaina
(My shadow longlist would have ten stories instead of the seven; going overboard is typical of any list of books or stories that I have to compile!)
So here is my longlist of seven (limiting the list to 7 was not easy at all; I congratulate the Jalada Prize judges for getting through the official first assignment):
- “Last Wave” By Ivor Hartmann
- “eNGAGEMENT” by Richard Oduor Odoku
- “Discovering Time Travel” by Sulieman Agbonkhianmen Buhari
- “Onen and his Daughter” by Dilman Dila
- “Where pumpkin leaves dwell” by Lillian Akampurira Aujo
- “Color Me Grey” by Swabir Silayi
- “The Dragon Can’t Dance” by Sheree Renee Thomas
Honourable mentions for:
- “Jestocost, Djinn” by Maria A. Bukachi
- “Daughters of Resurrection” by Melissa Kiguwa
- “Myasthenia Gravis: Liberations” by Awuor Onyango
- “Salvation Avenue” by Jude Dibia
- “For Digital Girls Who Drink Tonic Water at the Bar When Purple Rain Isn’t Enough” By Ytasha L. Womack
Kinna Reads 
[…] Killing in the Sun by Dilman Dila. Speculative fiction. I first came across his work in Jalada’s Afrofutures […]
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Blood & Water ~ Elizabeth Muchemwa
He washes his hands in streams she has made.
Rivers flowing beneath her eyes have
Salted the land with the acrid taste of her
Hate.
Wells have risen to pool within her,
catching the cries that would speak her
Hurt.
He washes his hands in streams she has made.
She dreams sonic dreams with high decibels to end tyranny,
With a speak to raise armies and wage wars.
He washes his hands in streams she has made,
Ignoring the pleas of a maiden body slain
In her shame, exposed against her will.
Half drawn clothes,
Untidy bundles of blood
Laid to waste for a rush.
She has made rivers and lakes bitter with the salt of her tears.
Beneath her breast a molten hold burnishes the light she once had
Into a golden strong finish
For those that have laid her to waste.
This is for the mother
Who has stitched another morsel
into one dish of edible corn for our daily bread.
Her who has copied the hands of the creator
And pasted onto the drawing board a new piece to the picture
So that girls everywhere can smile.
She is the surgeon who has carried a knife to battles
To cut open wounds and piece them back to their proper places,
Them skins and flesh scurrying to obey her command.
She has done so.
She has carried life so.
She has melded pen and paper to tell a story,
Not worrying.
Whether the caves within her bring forth life or death
Life or death life or death,
The ringing bells toll and call all humankind to rest.
But she does not stop taking life from death
life from death life from death,
Building bricks upon bricks
stitching together another
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[…] P.S. You know that bloggers are up in that story (I know, I’m the guy who did his own Africa39 list) and our favourite Ghanaian lit blogger has her own Shadow Jalada Prize Longlist you need to check out. […]
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