Showing posts with label Vonani Bila. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Vonani Bila. Show all posts

Monday, 14 September 2020

A review of Thunder on the highway by Gakwi Mashego

Those who have attended the same poetry readings with me where I get to recite will tell you there is a poem I love to read. I have read that poem so many times I sometimes think under the right conditions I can blurt it without referring from the notes - but I insist on reading it because I love how it is written. It's an insightful but tragic piece by artist Gary Cummiskey titled 'And We Watch'. It is one of few painful post-'94 poems I know because it unashamedly peels scabs from festering wounds; just as they are about to heal. That might be the poem I love to read in many poetry readings but it's not the only poem by Cummiskey that I adore; actually I love far more poems than I can admit here. Let me just share three lines from 'And We Watch' so you can get to understand why I think Cummiskey is one of the best poets of our generation - I'm not sure what generation is that, but if you are living today, best believe I'm talking about your time:.

'And we watch the township lesbian being gang-raped, this will cure her and teach her to appreciate cock.../ And we watch the drunken mother hysterical because while she was busy getting laid outside the shebeen her child was butchered for muti.../ And we watch the torture and beatings continue in Harare.../ And we watch the girl in the backroom sticking a knitting needle up her hole/'.
I'll stop right here. And now you might have a clue why this poem speaks to me - not because it speaks about Zimbabwe but it speaks about human rights. It is taken from a collection titled 'today is their creator'.
But today's review is not for 'today is their creator' but for a collection so disarmingly pretty I jest that it is the Mona Lisa or something Pablo Picasso could have offered the world. In the past Cummiskey has given the world plenty of words to ponder and when I finally got my hands on this tiny chapbook which can be read in one five minutes sitting I really felt something - you know that kick in he gut. Interesting enough, I might not be able to write a thousand words about a book with 78 000 words but under the right influence I can write a thousand words about a chapbook with a handful of poems of which none goes beyond seven lines. Yes, you heard me right, seven lines. And you thought you know a sonnet. But Cummiskey has a way of impregnating his sonnets with so much va-va-voom they read like brides awaiting a suitor. You just have a feeling they are whispering 'take me somewhere'. They read like blurbs.

'At the stop
street
a leaf
lands
on
my windscreen'

And you start re-enacting the scenario. Yes, because six out of ten people have had similar experiences. And it brings back memories flooding of what happened next the last time it happened to you: you probably moved a wiper or thought of a parking ticket. And believe me I didn't quote the poem I published the whole poem.

'Listening to
Amy
Winehouse,
sipping
morning coffee'
Damnit! So I am not going to quote more than these two nameless poems because as I say, if I went further I will have quoted the whole chapbook with its 12 pages. Yes, you heard me right, twelve pages like Jesus Christ's disciples or a dozen of eggs. This is classical Cummiskey; no-holds barred, honest to god, undiluted, bitter like bile and sweet like honey. Well, I don't intend to write a poem of my own but I am afraid this review has already amassed more words than the whole 'Thunder on the highway' book.
Now I know Cummiskey's work intimately. And it's just that this is not the space for such a comprehensive overarching review. Actually under the right influence and proper nudging I can give you 5 000 words on Cummiskey's work if you promise you'll read and comment on. I can now relate a poem he recited some time ago which every time I think about I paraphrase. It had something to do with the poet hearing water splashing loudly from a flat above his own; and noticing that they were gushing from a bathtub the poet said his first thought was that the lady upstairs was making love to a crocodile. That's an anecdote I live with. It was a poem once recited to applause and gape.
So, about 'Thunder on the highway' I can't even say go grab yourself a copy because I'm not sure there is a copy for you to grab. The one I have is 17 of 50; like a Picasso or a Rembrandt bought at an art auction. This is my Picasso and maybe the poet can get you yours - I wouldn't know but try him. As a poet Cummiskey never disappoints, he paints with ink and is not afraid to say exactly how he feels - which reminds one of bards Vonani Bila and Alan Finlay on his 'found poems'.

Friday, 29 June 2018

Copies of Green Dragon #6 still available

There are just TWO copies left in stock of Green Dragon #6, which was the final issue of a literary journal published by Dye Hard Press from 2002 to 2009. Contributors to this final issue were Alan Finlay, Arja Salafranca, Haidee Kruger, Janet van Eeden, Joop Bersee, Kelwyn Sole, Kobus Moolman, Tania van Schalkwyk, Megan Hall, Cecilia Ferriera, Anton Krueger, Allan Kolski Horwitz, Goodenough Mashego, David wa Maahlamela, Vonani Bila, Mphutlane wa Bofelo, Aryan Kaganof, Neo Molefe Shameeyaa, Colleen Higgs, Gus Ferguson, Brent Meersman, Kai Lossgott, Daniel Browde, Ingrid Andersen, Gary Cummiskey, Mick Raubenheimer and Mxolisi Nyezwa. There were also lyrics from Durban folk group The Litchis.
Copies are available from Dye Hard Press at R80 per copy, including postage, for South Africa. For overseas, R130 including postage. 

Email dyehardpress@iafrica.com to order.


Tuesday, 20 June 2017

Copies of Green Dragon #6 still available

There are just SIX copies left in stock of Green Dragon #6, which was the final issue of a literary journal published by Dye Hard Press from 2002 to 2009. Contributors to this final issue were Alan Finlay, Arja Salafranca, Haidee Kruger, Janet van Eeden, Joop Bersee, Kelwyn Sole, Kobus Moolman, Tania van Schalkwyk, Megan Hall, Cecilia Ferriera, Anton Krueger, Allan Kolski Horwitz, Goodenough Mashego, David wa Maahlamela, Vonani Bila, Mphutlane wa Bofelo, Aryan Kaganof, Neo Molefe Shameeyaa, Colleen Higgs, Gus Ferguson, Brent Meersman, Kai Lossgott, Daniel Browde, Ingrid Andersen, Gary Cummiskey, Mick Raubenheimer and Mxolisi Nyezwa. There were also lyrics from Durban folk group The Litchis.

Copies are available from Dye Hard Press at R80 per copy, including postage (South Africa only). Email dyehardpress@iafrica.com to order.

Sunday, 26 July 2015

Launch of Bilakhulu by Vonani Bila

Deep South Publishers & David Krut Bookstore invite you to the launch of BILAKHULU! Longer Poems by Vonani Bila
Johannesburg Tuesday 28 July at 6pm
David Krut Bookstore, 151 Jan Smuts Avenue, Parkwood
Enquiries 011 880 5648 or 071 686 6128
Vonani Bila's voice in Bilakhulu! is as buoyant and direct as ever; his emotional range is broad, incorporating humour and lament. These seven narrative poems, ranging from 3 to 35 pages in length, are grounded in the poet’s family and village, at the same time making visible the wider forces that impinge on rural life.
Bila is a driving force in South African poetry – founding editor of Timbila poetry journal, publisher of Timbila Books and founder of Timbila Writers’ Village. He is the author of five books of poems in English and eight story-books for newly literate adult readers in English, Sepedi, and Xitsonga. Vonani Bila teaches in the Department of English Studies at the University of Limpopo, and in the MA in Creative Writing at Rhodes University. He lives with his wife and three children in Shirley Village, Elim, Limpopo.
Bila was also the previous editor of New Coin.
ISBN: 978-0-9870282-5-9
96 pages 205 x 140 mm
Price R120
Cover art by Colbert Mashile

Saturday, 12 July 2014

New Coin June 2014, edited by Gary Cummiskey


New Coin June 2014 is now out and contains poems by Kelwyn Sole, Alan Finlay, Kobus Moolman, Sinclair Beiles, Lucas Zulu, Arja Salafranca, Moira Lovell, Eva Jackson, Dawn Garisch, Goodenough Mashego, Kyle Allan, Haidee Kruger, Yannis Livadas, Gerard Rudolf, Khulile Nxumalo, Mangaliso Buzani, Mxolisi Nyezwa, Immanuel Suttner, Hans Pienaar, Catfish McDaris, Anton Krueger, Diana Bloem, John Carse, Mick Raubenheimer, Louise Anne Buchler, Lionel Murcott, Gail Dendy, Jim Pascual Agustin, Angifi Dladla, Carol Leff, Mzi Mahola, Allan Kolski Horwitz, Vonani Bila and Stephen Symons. Reviews by Kelwyn Sole, Rustum Kozain and Tlhalo Sam Raditlhalo.

New Coin is published by the Institute for the Study of English in Africa (ISEA) and is available on subscription. Subscription for 2013 is R170 for two issues.  You can also subscribe now for the two 2014 issues, for R180. 

For subscription details, contact New Coin secretary Nomangesi Kelemi on 046 603 8565 or at
isea@ru.ac.za.

Friday, 11 July 2014

Poets and events at the Grahamstown arts festival 2014


Alan Finlay and Paul Wessels


Mishka Hoosen


Lesego Rampolokeng


Napo Masheane


Robert Berold


David wa Maahlamela


Lesego Rampolokeng


Mafika Gwala, Gary Cummiskey, Lesego Rampolokeng


Vonani Bila, David wa Maahlamelah, Mafika Gwala, Lesego Rampolokeng


Lesego Rampolokeng


The writing on the wall by Alan Finlay


Gary Cummiskey, bored, had a moment of inspiration


Joan Meterlekamp and Mishka Hoosen


Alan Finlay


Robert Berold and Crystal Warren


Chris Mann


Paul Wessels, Kobus Moolman and Marike Beyers


Kobus Moolman


Deep South publications and issues of New Coin on display


Denis Hirson, centre


Ari Sitas


Alan Finlay


Gary Cummiskey


Gary Cummiskey


Kobus Moolman

Saturday, 17 July 2010

The Dye Hard Interviews

Dye Hard Press is proud to announce the launch of a new blog called The Dye Hard Interviews.

The Dye Hard Interviews will contain interviews with writers, poets and small publishers throughout the world, focusing on the non-mainstream.

The blog kicks off with an interview with South African writer Arja Salafranca, whose debut short fiction collection The Thin Line was recently published by Modjaji Books and who has just received the prestigious Darlo Award for her poem 'Steak' in literary journal New Coin.

The blog also contains interviews with Australian poet and artist Philip Hammial, first published in Green Dragon 5, and wth South African poet Vonani Bila, first published in The Weekender.

Dye Hard Press will keep you informed as and when new interviews are published.

Friday, 05 December 2008

Timbila 6

The sixth issue of literary journal Timbila has just been published. Edited by Vonani Bila and Mark Waller, it contains poetry (and a bit of prose) by writers such as David wa Maahlamela, Mphutlane wa Bofelo, Michelle McGrane, Kobus Moolman, Goodenough Mashego, Gary Cummiskey,Vonani Bila, Mark Waller, Alan Finlay, Liesl Jobson, Allan Kolski Horwitz, Mxolisi Nyezwa,Mpho Ramaano, Mzi Mahola, and Mzwandile Matiwana. 300 pages, R160 per copy. Contact timbila@telkomsa.net to order.

Sunday, 31 August 2008

No brand-puppet poet

Producing poetry that is infused with a sense of social and political commitment may seem like a throw-back to the apartheid era for some, but for poet, editor, publisher and community activist Vonani Bila, the urgent need for poets — and all writers — to address social injustice remains as strong as ever.

Bila, whose fourth poetry collection, Handsome Jita, was recently published by University of KwaZulu-Natal Press, was born in 1972 at Shirley Village in the Elim area of Limpopo, into a family of eight children.

He says his parents instilled in him an appreciation of music and narrative.

“My father was a gifted singer and composer,” says Bila. “He even used to play the timbila (a finger harp that is associated with the Vatsonga, Vacopi and Machangani of Mozambique, where the Bilas originally come from).

“My mother didn’t attend any formal schooling, but she’s indisputably a living historian with an astute and impeccable memory of family and social history. My mother tells intelligent and humorous tales to her grandchildren with great passion. It is from her that I inherited the narrative command evident in my poetry.”

But he is deeply aware of the conditions of poverty and injustice into which he was born. His great-grandfather fought in the Second World War but, “like most blacks who served in the army, he got virtually nothing, except that his name got engraved on the walls of Elim Hospital”.
“My father died after working at Elim Hospital for almost 30 years, earning a paltry R300 a month at the time of his death.”

Bila went to Lemana High School, one of the reputable public schools in Elim, he says, but he had to walk 14km to get there.

He was 21 when his first poem was published. At the time, Bila was a student at Tivumbeni College of Education, where he earned the reputation of being a public poet. His involvement at the time with nongovernmental organisations such as the Akanani Rural Development Association sharpened his political views.

“It motivated me to want to join Umkhonto weSizwe in 1989. I took my passport, but when my father died, I couldn’t proceed with my plans. I guess a certain anger that is in my poetry is that of a guerrilla who fires with poetry rather than with an AK47.”

His first collection of poems, No Free Sleeping, with Donald Parenzee and Alan Finlay, was published in 1998 by Botsotso. He was impressed with the way in which Botsotso got him involved in the production, and this inspired him to start up his own poetry publishing venture, the Timbila Poetry Project, which has published collections by poets such as Goodenough Mashego, Makhosazana Xaba and Mbongeni Khumalo.

Bila has also published two of his own titles — In the Name of Amandla and Magicstan Fires — as well as an annual poetry journal, Timbila. He has also released a CD of his poetry, Dahl Street, Pietersburg.

Bila emphasises the value of the spoken word, and of the benefits of being able to listen to poetry. “If a poet can project their poetry well through their voice on CD and on stage, then they can easily communicate the feeling of the poem to a large number of people who wouldn’t necessarily have access to the book, given that poetry books are not widely distributed in shops.
“But SA needs books as much as we need CDs, printed T-shirts and posters bearing poems. When we explore new technology such as the internet, we must always remember there are millions of South Africans who don’t have access to that medium.

“SA’s illiteracy levels are shocking and for that reason, we will always need books.”

But despite this emphasis on the need to reach a wide audience, Bila does not see himself as a public poet.
“I am a poet who comments on life around and about me,” he says. “Yes, I confront the reader with stories of shame, degradation, retrenched workers, prostitutes in substandard conditions, the unemployed and beggars — these are stories few dare to tell with honesty, love and compassion. Instead they sensationalise them and further dehumanise these people.

“This sordid reality I feel nobody, especially poets, should be ignoring. Of course, there is a price one can pay heavily for raising such embarrassing questions of the government’s failure to take care of the poor.

“Where I come from, poverty hits you straight in the face and you wonder what changes (Jacob) Zuma or (Thabo) Mbeki or the African National Congress (ANC) will effect to improve the lives of the poor. All I see is politicians accumulating wealth, buying farms, sitting on several companies as directors, fixing tenders for their relatives.

“I comment on all these matters, not because it’s sexy to do so, nor because every angry young poet feels the ANC has sold out. I do so because I am a patriot. I care about finding the roots of social and political problems we are facing.

“Poetry is not a hobby for me. It’s a lifelong commitment, and I can only be true to myself when I express that which I believe in, without being a propagandist.”

Apart from disappointment over the government’s lack of service delivery, Bila is also troubled by the fact that the spectre of apartheid has not yet disappeared and that incidents of racist attacks are rife in SA’s rural areas.

“I am antiracist,” he says. “I come from a province rife with racism. White farmers chop off a farm worker’s head, throw him into a river, and say he was bitten by a crocodile. They mistake black people for dogs and baboons.”

His poetry has won him recognition overseas and he has been invited to countries such as Belgium, Sweden, Holland and Brazil. But one particular overseas trip was harrowing: last year, when arriving at Jomo Kenyatta Airport in Kenya to attend the World Economic Summit, he was detained for three hours for allegedly travelling on an out-of-date passport.

“It was a nasty experience,” he says, but also points to a lack of solidarity among writers in SA.

“If poets were organised, they would have spoken out against the Kenyan government’s trampling on my rights. But a writer could die in prison without other writers saying a word.”

Bila is encouraged that Keorapetse “Willie” Kgositsile is now SA’s poet laureate and hopes there will now be some dynamism in the country’s literary development.

He also says poetry would be better known if schools were studying local poets.

“Most schools exclude poetry. What is commonplace in the school and varsity arena are proponents of British and American modernism such as TS Eliot.

“With the exception of black consciousness-inspired poetry of the ’70s, those who teach poetry
pretend there’s a desert between 1980 and now.”

Bila, however, takes a critical view of work being produced by younger South African poets.

“They slam, and in their slam jam there’s little poetry. They mimic some of the worst US thugs and choose to ignore rich and unusual voices. To generalise is not fair, but those who appear to have become celebrities, whether (that status is) self-constructed or acquired, are worshipped by the youth because their faces are visible on TV and from time to time they are invited to perform at government and corporate functions.

“Some poets are happy to be commissioned to write about brands and labels; I’m not such a clown. They demand to perform at government functions, and they are paid good money. You’ll hear so and so was in Cuba, attending a writers’ conference. How they get there is through connections.”

But thankfully for South African poetry, Bila is no performing puppet and nobody’s clown.

First published in The Weekender 12 January, 2008

Friday, 09 November 2007

Independents give a voice to the voiceless

They are passionate about being able to make sure that strange,odd, misunderstood, peculiar, yet important, voices don't get overlooked

Since 1994, a number of independent publishing initiatives have started up in SA, often operating on small budgets but with immense dedication and energy from their founders. Technological advancements in digital publishing have also often helped them to produce quality books at lower cost, plus – as poet Karen Press pointed out in the literary journal New Coin - the feeling of freedom experienced after the first democratic elections also no doubt contributed to this burst of creativity.

Independent publishers are, however often referred to and regarded as small publishers, though this is a label several of them, for good reasons, dislike.

Vonani Bila, of Elim Hospital, Limpopo-based Timbila Poetry Project, says: “Independent, like the term ‘alternative’, should not suggest shoddy work. I go through all the necessary stages of publishing a quality book with the involvement of the author. I give voice to writers whose work wouldn’t necessarily be published by big, corporate and so-called mainstream and commercial publishers. These are the poets who are not afraid to challenge the rot they live or witness in society.”

This view is echoed by Goodenough Mashego, from Shatale, Mpumalanga. Mashego recently started up Ten Workers Media and sees an independent publisher as one “who is independent of the market forces that determine who should be published instead of who deserves to be published…They are independent because they can afford to think without pressure from greedy shareholders but are instead driven by their commitment to literary development.”

Robert Berold of Deep South in Grahamstown shares the same preference for literary quality over profit: “It’s like independent record labels – small, not corporate, doing the publishing mainly for art’s sake. It’s more flexible, more risk-taking, more anarchistic. The term ‘small publisher’ is okay, though it has a dimension of insignificance.”

Johannesburg-based Botsotso Publishing’s Allan Kolski Horwitz says “the term ‘independent’ connotes freedom from restraints, both ideological and commercial. We should reject the term small because it reflects on scale and, perhaps, ambition.”

An exception to the preference for “independent” is Cape Town’s Modjaji Books, recently launched by Colleen Higgs, who says: “I prefer the term ‘small’. It is a matter of small staff – myself – and few books.”

For Johannesburg’s Pineslopes Publications’ Aryan Kaganof, however, the labels are unimportant: “I’m concerned with publishing books that I believe in.”

Over and over the above the commitment that these publishers have about the work that they produce, there are also clear views about their role, which sometimes has a wider socioeconomic and politically context as opposed to a more limited literary context.

Bila says: “We must publish books that matter…We must not promote mediocrity, the stuff that is ceaselessly churned out by commercial publishers chasing cash, topical stories and often exploiting vulnerability.
“We also need to promote writing and publishing in all South African languages, and give voice to excluded black, rural and women writers, as well as those writers and poets who says things that annoy those that wield power – be it government or business.”

Mashego also takes a strong stance of giving a voice to the voiceless: “SA has got lots of stories that need to be told. They are hidden between the uncombed beards of street vagrants and the dreadlocks of Rastafarians…Our role as independent publishers is to go out into the villages, streets and prisons and unearth those stories that the mainstream finds too unattractive because the storytellers are unattractive members of our society.”

Berold and Higgs take a somewhat cooler view of an independent publisher’s role, which is “to print work that has real literary value but little market potential because the writer is unknown or the work to challenging, either politically or intellectually,” says Berold. “In a cultural desert like SA, independent publishers have a huge role.”

For Higgs it is a matter of “taking risks - publishing good work by writers who may not as yet have the recognition they deserve. It is also about publishing genres – such as poetry or drama – that the mainstream publishers may not want to tackle. To be at the cutting edge, seeking out new talent, creating more space for new voices”.

Kaganof, however, is cynical about the role of independent publishers: “It is to allow us to pretend there is an audience for anything outside of the mainstream.”

Considering that independent publishers are playing a marginal role in an overwhelmingly commercialised book market, it is not surprising that they sometimes view commercial publishers with ambivalence.

“Independent publishers don’t have a huge voice in shaping SA’s publishing direction,” says Bila. “It is the big publishers who are represented in book-related councils set up by the state. Their participation through the Publishing Association of SA, or as individual big publishers, gives them more access to government opportunities, especially to supply schools.”

To Mashego, “the situation is simple: book fairs, like the Cape Town one, are meant for commercial publishers have no space for independent publishers. Book retailers are not kind to independent publishers because we can’t provide them with the same benefits and perks that commercial publishers can. The attitude should be that the literary world created by commercial publishers is not the ultimate one…we have the right to create our own. We are entitled to our own book fair without the commercial publishers, we are entitled to our own awards where we don’t compete with writers whose publishers have the ability to befriend the judges. We need to establish our own distribution and marketing networks.”

Kaganof views the work of commercial and independent publishers are different: “I don’t think they are concerned with us and I certainly don’t think we should be concerned with them.”

Berold says he “doesn’t mind” commercial publishers “though it would be nice if they could acknowledge the importance of independent publishers”.

For Higgs there is no conflict: “I don’t see us as incompatible. They are working in different parts of the same field. They are also doing important work and they do it professionally. We can learn much from engaging with them and taking advice.”

Thus for independent publishers it is not simply a matter of publishing books – that is, being focused on making a profit – but rather of playing an active role in contributing to the ongoing development of South African writing and introducing that writing to local readers.

As Bila says: “We make quality books. We are germinating ground for some of SA’s successful poets. Few big publishers run literary journals. It is often the independents who are prepared to create outlets for new and established authors. Independents also run writing workshops.”

Mashego highlights that independent publishers “are addressing pertinent issues that need to be voiced. I think the contribution of independent publishers must be weighed against our own democracy that requires plurality of opinions. We have own mainstream writers who are praise singing and telling us about the intelligence of people in authority. We need a balanced picture… those that tell the other picture, the less rosy picture, are the independents.”

“The work of the most lasting significance is published by the small publishers,” says Kaganof, and Berold points out that almost every new poet’s first book is published by an independent. “Fiction is a bit different, though, there seems to be a commercial market,” he adds.

Independents can also play a role in niche publishing. “It can make sure that strange, odd, misunderstood, peculiar, yet important, voices don’t get overlooked,” says Higgs.

But from a financial point of view, as well as in wider aspects of recognition, independent publishers face substantial challenges. Many independents, such as Botsotso, Deep South and Timbila, are reliant on public funding from bodies such as the National Arts Council or the Arts and Culture Trust.

“Financial constraints are always the bane of producing art,” says Horwitz, “and dependence on public funding is not always a guarantee of quality or of intellectual vitality. Public funding can also cushion mediocrity and crudeness.”

Berold stresses the need for more diversity of public funding, while Bila says the government needs to take independent publishers seriously: “We constitute the core of authentic South African publishing. Unlike the multinational publishers, we are committed to what we produce, even though we do it in small quantities and with limited resources. The government must buy books from us, as they do with big publishers, and get those books into public spaces such as schools and libraries.”

Apart from finances, however, another problem is reader apathy, says Mashego, and Horwitz points out that “the laziness of writers to support the literary journals that support them is peculiar but actually quite reflective of the egoism that much art making generates”.

Media recognition, of lack thereof, is an issue for many independent publishers. While Berold feels Deep South does receive some attention in the media, it is “a little, not enough”. Bila says that most newspapers do not value book reviews and as a result “little is known about new South African writing”.

Mashego is more direct: “The media are gunning for free review copies and champagne at book launches while very few or any of them can write a review. Especially black journalists - very few of them can write a review. The black media is obsessed with gossip journalism to that extent that book reviewing is not their forte.”

Despite all the obstacles, though, independent publishers in SA remain committed to their work and, most importantly, believe in what they are doing.

“You can publish what you like,” Higgs says, “what you are passionate about, what moves you, what interests you. You don’t have to publish things that are politically correct or you feel compelled to by external market forces.”

For Kaganof a key benefit to authors involves “not having to deal with useless people who ‘staff’ the larger publishers”, while for Horwitz a benefit resides in the freedom to select, design and market in a manner which is “consistent with one’s world view and values”.

Bila likewise values the freedom from being guided by the dictates of a commercial market, and Berold says a key benefit is being accountable to nobody but his authors and his instincts.

“ I can do as I please,” says Mashego, “and mingle with readers without the stigma of being a CEO or publisher. It also helps me to think out of the box…the opportunity to innovate is what I see as the ultimate benefit. I wouldn’t trade it for the mainstream.”

(First published in Business Day's Books and Publishing supplement, November 2007)

Wednesday, 17 October 2007

Handsome Jita


Handsome Jita is the latest collection of poems by Vonani Bila, editor of Timbila poetry journal and of the Timbila Poetry Project. A selection from his previous collections, its 100 pages contain works by one of the most powerful voices in contemporary South African poetry. An uncompromising social and political critic, Bila takes up the cause of the poor and downtrodden against the rich and the powerful. He speaks out against corruption and abuse of power and courageously exposes "the inconventient truths" of the "new South Africa".
Vonani's previous collections of poetry include No Free Sleeping (with Donald Parenzee and Alan Finlay), In the Name of Amandla and Magicstan Fires.

Handsome Jita is published by University of KwaZulu-Natal Press, ISBN: 978-1-86914-126-4