In this first edition of A Short Talk, Rwandan-born Namibian writer Rémy Ngamije is interviewed by Joseph Omoh Ndukwu, associate editor of A Long House. In his responses, Ngamije speaks expansively about rhythm in his […]

“With the onrushing green blur that he knew was the garden; the orange blob behind the trees that he thought was the setting sun; the echo of laughter that he recognized as the voice of the girl he would give his life for if she politely asked; the taste of tangerine, his world was suddenly set into motion.”

“In the beginning, the deception was straightforward. Her assignment was to root out any political radicals, and report back. She found spying on the academic set to be easy. These scientists and doctors weren’t as self-involved and closed off as she’d worried, they were too trusting.”

“Where was her badge? That invisible insignia that had inspired a relentless neighbour to creep up on her and later lament to the deemster that it was indeed they who had been stealthily hunted and subjected to terror and obsession.”

“But back to the schools—no ship jumping, no wading in the waters of the Atlantic would forestall the westernisation of the school system. I didn’t see myself in the reading primers in elementary school that stated, “See Jane run.” I wasn’t Jane. I needed an escape route, and in Los Angeles, the waters of the Atlantic could not be my salvation.”

“My response caused her to sit up even straighter and, without missing a beat, declare: “You’re real pretty for an African! I thought Africans were all ugly with black skin, thick lips, and fat noses.” “

“What becomes of the soil you walk upon;
When time is not as flat nor as straight
but it unfolds regardless?”

A Short Talk is a series of short interviews and conversations with writers, editors, artists, and cultural workers across Africa and the Black diaspora. It is conceived as a companion (not an abridgement or summary) […]