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How to Write about
Africa
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This article was originally published in Granta
92.
How to Write About Africa
Always use the word ‘Africa’ or ‘Darkness’ or
‘Safari’ in your title. Subtitles may include the words ‘Zanzibar’, ‘Masai’,
‘Zulu’, ‘Zambezi’, ‘Congo’, ‘Nile’, ‘Big’, ‘Sky’, ‘Shadow’, ‘Drum’, ‘Sun’ or
‘Bygone’. Also useful are words such as ‘Guerrillas’, ‘Timeless’, ‘Primordial’
and ‘Tribal’. Note that ‘People’ means Africans who are not black, while ‘The
People’ means black Africans.
Never have a picture of a well-adjusted African
on the cover of your book, or in it, unless that African has won the Nobel
Prize. An AK-47, prominent ribs, naked breasts: use these. If you must include
an African, make sure you get one in Masai or Zulu or Dogon dress.
In your text, treat Africa as if it were one
country. It is hot and dusty with rolling grasslands and huge herds of animals
and tall, thin people who are starving. Or it is hot and steamy with very short
people who eat primates. Don’t get bogged down with precise descriptions.
Africa is big: fifty-four countries, 900 million people who are too busy
starving and dying and warring and emigrating to read your book. The continent
is full of deserts, jungles, highlands, savannahs and many other things, but
your reader doesn’t care about all that, so keep your descriptions romantic and
evocative and unparticular.
Make sure you show how Africans have music and
rhythm deep in their souls, and eat things no other humans eat. Do not mention
rice and beef and wheat; monkey-brain is an African's cuisine of choice, along
with goat, snake, worms and grubs and all manner of game meat. Make sure you
show that you are able to eat such food without flinching, and describe how you
learn to enjoy it—because you care.
Taboo subjects: ordinary domestic scenes, love
between Africans (unless a death is involved), references to African writers or
intellectuals, mention of school-going children who are not suffering from yaws
or Ebola fever or female genital mutilation.
Throughout the book, adopt a sotto voice, in
conspiracy with the reader, and a sad I-expected-so-much tone. Establish early
on that your liberalism is impeccable, and mention near the beginning how much
you love Africa, how you fell in love with the place and can’t live without
her. Africa is the only continent you can love—take advantage of this. If you
are a man, thrust yourself into her warm virgin forests. If you are a woman,
treat Africa as a man who wears a bush jacket and disappears off into the
sunset. Africa is to be pitied, worshipped or dominated. Whichever angle you
take, be sure to leave the strong impression that without your intervention and
your important book, Africa is doomed.
Your African characters may include naked
warriors, loyal servants, diviners and seers, ancient wise men living in
hermitic splendour. Or corrupt politicians, inept polygamous travel-guides, and
prostitutes you have slept with. The Loyal Servant always behaves like a
seven-year-old and needs a firm hand; he is scared of snakes, good with
children, and always involving you in his complex domestic dramas. The Ancient
Wise Man always comes from a noble tribe (not the money-grubbing tribes like
the Gikuyu, the Igbo or the Shona). He has rheumy eyes and is close to the
Earth. The Modern African is a fat man who steals and works in the visa office,
refusing to give work permits to qualified Westerners who really care about
Africa. He is an enemy of development, always using his government job to make
it difficult for pragmatic and good-hearted expats to set up NGOs or Legal
Conservation Areas. Or he is an Oxford-educated intellectual turned
serial-killing politician in a Savile Row suit. He is a cannibal who likes
Cristal champagne, and his mother is a rich witch-doctor who really runs the
country.
Among your characters you must always include
The Starving African, who wanders the refugee camp nearly naked, and waits for
the benevolence of the West. Her children have flies on their eyelids and pot
bellies, and her breasts are flat and empty. She must look utterly helpless.
She can have no past, no history; such diversions ruin the dramatic moment.
Moans are good. She must never say anything about herself in the dialogue
except to speak of her (unspeakable) suffering. Also be sure to include a warm
and motherly woman who has a rolling laugh and who is concerned for your
well-being. Just call her Mama. Her children are all delinquent. These
characters should buzz around your main hero, making him look good. Your hero
can teach them, bathe them, feed them; he carries lots of babies and has seen
Death. Your hero is you (if reportage), or a beautiful, tragic international
celebrity/aristocrat who now cares for animals (if fiction).
Bad Western characters may include children of
Tory cabinet ministers, Afrikaners, employees of the World Bank. When talking
about exploitation by foreigners mention the Chinese and Indian traders. Blame
the West for Africa's situation. But do not be too specific.
Broad brushstrokes throughout are good. Avoid
having the African characters laugh, or struggle to educate their kids, or just
make do in mundane circumstances. Have them illuminate something about Europe
or America in Africa. African characters should be colourful, exotic, larger
than life—but empty inside, with no dialogue, no conflicts or resolutions in
their stories, no depth or quirks to confuse the cause.
Describe, in detail, naked breasts (young, old,
conservative, recently raped, big, small) or mutilated genitals, or enhanced
genitals. Or any kind of genitals. And dead bodies. Or, better, naked dead
bodies. And especially rotting naked dead bodies. Remember, any work you submit
in which people look filthy and miserable will be referred to as the ‘real
Africa’, and you want that on your dust jacket. Do not feel queasy about this:
you are trying to help them to get aid from the West. The biggest taboo in
writing about Africa is to describe or show dead or suffering white people.
Animals, on the other hand, must be treated as
well rounded, complex characters. They speak (or grunt while tossing their
manes proudly) and have names, ambitions and desires. They also have family
values: see how lions teach their children? Elephants are caring, and are good
feminists or dignified patriarchs. So are gorillas. Never, ever say anything
negative about an elephant or a gorilla. Elephants may attack people’s
property, destroy their crops, and even kill them. Always take the side of the
elephant. Big cats have public-school accents. Hyenas are fair game and have
vaguely Middle Eastern accents. Any short Africans who live in the jungle or
desert may be portrayed with good humour (unless they are in conflict with an
elephant or chimpanzee or gorilla, in which case they are pure evil).
After celebrity activists and aid workers,
conservationists are Africa’s most important people. Do not offend them. You
need them to invite you to their 30,000-acre game ranch or ‘conservation area’,
and this is the only way you will get to interview the celebrity activist.
Often a book cover with a heroic-looking conservationist on it works magic for
sales. Anybody white, tanned and wearing khaki who once had a pet antelope or a
farm is a conservationist, one who is preserving Africa’s rich heritage. When
interviewing him or her, do not ask how much funding they have; do not ask how
much money they make off their game. Never ask how much they pay their
employees.
Readers will be put off if you don’t mention
the light in Africa. And sunsets, the African sunset is a must. It is always
big and red. There is always a big sky. Wide empty spaces and game are
critical—Africa is the Land of Wide Empty Spaces. When writing about the plight
of flora and fauna, make sure you mention that Africa is overpopulated. When
your main character is in a desert or jungle living with indigenous peoples
(anybody short) it is okay to mention that Africa has been severely depopulated
by Aids and War (use caps).
You’ll also need a nightclub called Tropicana,
where mercenaries, evil nouveau riche Africans and prostitutes and guerrillas
and expats hang out.
Always end your book with Nelson Mandela saying
something about rainbows or renaissances. Because you care. ■
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