Prison officer’s runaway imagination
In “Pundutso”, Tare drapes on the familiar sequence of the village boy who conquers the city, original metaphors, humour and an impressive command of the Shona language.
SHONA novelists have lately betrayed a mischievous intent to leave readers bald and hoarse with their head-scratching and hilarious books. Felix Manyimbiri’s vastly entertaining “Tamba Iri Kurira”, disruptive sparks in Tinashe Muchuri’s “Chibarabada” and Ignatius Mabasa’s “Imbwa Yemunhu” readily play into this conspiracy theory.
Tare, born Taremeredzwa Kwangwari in Chipinge 28 years ago, is a new entry on this front. The Bulawayo-based novelist recently put out “Pundutso”, a novel cast in a motivational mould, with an ambitious pitch and a promise of greater things.
He drapes on the familiar sequence of the village boy who conquers the city, original metaphors, humour and an impressive command of the Shona language.
In this edition of Literature Today, Stanely Mushava (SM) interviews Tare (TK) on his debut publication and the future of the Shona novel. SM: You wrote this novel in-between demanding shifts as a prison officer at Khami Maximum Prison. I understand you are also working on a Zimdancehall album. Don’t these trips of imagination come in the way of your day job? TK: It’s tricky balancing the two. I admit that having time with my family is now difficult. There is a lot of pressure balancing novel-writing, music, university and work. Naturally, I prioritise my job as it is my main source of income. Thankfully, I have supportive superiors who encourage my passion for art. SM: Did your own life inspire “Pundutso”? How much of the author do we find in the character? TK: Ninety percent of the novel is based on my real-life experiences, slightly altered to fit the discipline. I have been to Chiadzwa diamond fields like my protagonist. So much of the fourth chapter is first-hand information. Although the poverty in “Pundutso” is more desperate, I also grew up in trying conditions and I am still determined to make it to the top. Besides the plot, the decision to write “Pundutso” was sparked by my own life, my yearning for a connection. My father died when I was two months old and he never left any writing or audio for me to get a clue about him or his thinking. I chose to write and sing so that future generations will see how we are dealing with day-to-day challenges in our day. SM: What sort of cultural and commercial considerations did you have to make in settling for Shona as your medium? TK: If I was writing primarily for profit, I would have picked English. Shona only boasts a market in some parts of Zimbabwe. I chose it because I have stories I want to tell in the language I understand best. SM:
Don’t you feel the need to reach out beyond the Shona-speaking audience?
TK: I look forward to collaborating with experts to translate my work into various Zimbabwean languages including Tonga, Ndebele and Venda, and other African languages such as Swahili, Zulu and Tswana as a means of cultural exchange. SM: Things are looking up for the Shona novel. We are on the doorstep of a potentially productive era for creative writers with the coming in of the new curriculum. What does this activity mean for the intellectual record of Zimbabwean languages? TK: Our language and culture need to be preserved in written records otherwise it will be distorted, and we may end up with books filled with WhatsApp-speak and other adulterations. If that happens, writers will be to blame for failing to preserve and develop the language in its richness. SM: Still on the language issue, you have put out a few Zimdancehall songs, an under-appreciated poetic force field, where youths are making their own contribution to the Shona language, feeding new expressions into the public lexicon. From your experience, how do the disciplines of novel-writing and songwriting cross-pollinate? TK: As long as you are an artiste, novel-writing, scriptwriting, acting or music are one thing. You have something different to say and any outlet at your disposal available can do the job. Before I came to books, I was already in love with reggae. As a teenager, I was imitating artistes like Major E and Bootkin Clan of the “Tsamba”, “Chipatapata” and Chirwere” fame and I ended up writing my own songs. I will soon be dropping seven singles and a mixtape called “Thinking Positive”. Depending on my mood on a particular day, I rehearse music or go for books. SM:
Which authors have influenced you?
TK: I am enriched by every author, established or not. I particularly salute Chirikure Chirikure, Charles Mungoshi and sons, Memory Chirere, Dambudzo Marechera and Albert Nyathi. SM: Why did you go the self-publishing route? Do you find the reception rewarding under this arrangement? TK: I went for self-publishing out of fear of the unknown. I used to feel threatened hearing that publishing houses short-change artistes. I have also heard that projects take long to complete. So I self-published to avoid that. The challenge is when you self-publish, you shoulder all the production expenses and the sales are generally low, but that can be mitigated by your marketing strategy. Sadly, no matter how good your strategy is, buying novels doesn’t seem to be a priority for the majority at the moment. SM: Droll, runs the thread of your book. You write with a mischievous intent to keep the reader quacking with laughter at your characters’ expense. Sometimes you are even poking fun at your readers. TK: I agree with Charles Chaplin that the worst day is the day spent without laughter. My writing has to lift all manner of dark moods from the reader. Also, the book is saying something all the time, but bringing it across formally would be less effective in a novel. SM:
So, the occasional buffoonery is advancing a didactic design?
TK: Yes, I am putting questionable heads of houses like Gwaumbu on the spot as a way of counselling. Surprisingly, I have readers calling and texting to testify that they are like Gwaumbu, thanking me for exposing their parental shortfalls. SM:
Are there broader social concerns informing your creative output?
TK: I will be happy if my work can bring down crime and HIV infections. I also give a nod to indigenisation and black empowerment in my novel. SM:
What are you working on at the moment?
TK: In August, I am releasing a book titled “Ropa Kana Nhodzera”. The book is edited, and the cover is done, but negotiations are underway with a publishing house which wants to take up the project. My first Zimdancehall album is also on the way. Some of the songs are done but I am now putting my finances in order because I want videos to accompany the project.