Skip to main content

One day I will write about this place


Review by Eugene Kabisa


Binyavanga writes like the words fall on his laps from the sky. *One day I Will Write about this Place* starts off slow. The first few pages let you into a little life of a little family of playful kids and dutiful parents thriving in a post colonial Kenya. At the start, it's just another random family passing through the tunnel of changing times. But you fall in love with them with every page you flip.

And that's where you start to realize that you have been set up for an imminent ride of giggles, growth, transformations and massive heartbreaks of watching them grow old. That's when you realise that everything that happens to them happens to you. 

Binyavanga let's you in generously. He lays his childhood bare for you to see. He does an open heart surgery on his struggles and inadequacies and let's you in the operation room. He brings you to every place he has been and shows you even the darkest parts of a clouded adulthood.

He brings you to tears and cheers you up again. He let's you see his first times and the fear that runs through. He lends you his pair of eyes and allows you to see things like he does. It's through this that you see Kenya differently. You take a front seat in his life and watch him grow. With every page turned, the boy becomes a man. From a frolic of a teen experiencing high school for the first time to a man in his twenties ravaging the night life of Cape town. From a child watching Moi on Television to a doubtful young writer looking for his magic wand. And he brings his family along.


He talks about tragic things like they don't weigh so much. He writes about the end of good times and loss of childhood with a light heart and leaves all the greaving for you to do. He sits on the edge of a foggy hill and watches the good old days birth crazy times of bloodshed and bold tribalism. 

Binyavanga travels and keeps a seat for you. To South Africa where he shows you that he's human too. Struggling to finish school and falling under the grip of alcohol. To Kitui where he works for his father in a cotton project. To Nigeria where he gets stuck in the crazy Lagos traffic. To Togo where Lome is in a frenzy about world cup and Adebayor. To London where the small boy from Nakuru wins the prestigious Caine Prize. Everywhere he goes, he keeps a seat for you. 

And then he rewrites the history of Kenya in your face. He calls things what they are supposed to be called. If he is bored, he says it. And he picks the words from ordinary places. Binyavanga writes so that you don't have to visit the place to experience it. He takes you to Lamu and gives you a boat ride. He let's you lie with him in his messed up hostel room in South Africa. He let's you get the taste of the beer he drinks in Mlango Kubwa. His words are crayons and spray paint and your mind is a blank canvas. He takes you to Uganda and invites you to his big family reunion. 

*One Day I Will Write about this Place* is a book that leaves your heart empty, and full. Empty because of the things you give along the way. Full because of the wealth of exploration you get without leaving your couch. Binyavanga writes like he orders the words around. And he makes light some of the world's greatest losses and tragedies. Splendid!

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Major Ariel

Ariel studies Chemistry, but is also a footballer who retired prematurely because of a bad knee. A knee that chose chemistry over football. He is a farmer during long holidays. He keeps chicken and milk his father’s cow on a good day. On a bad day he goes to a nearby dusty arena to play football, to see if his knee could have possibly changed its idea about chemistry. Ten minutes into the  game he becomes a living testimony that his knees were actually meant to stand long hours in the chemistry lab doing tests and mixing chemicals to see colour changes, precipitates and what have you that don’t excite me. He is a vocabulary expert and a story teller. He is a fitness aficionado. He is a brother and a son. I can’t prove that he is a boyfriend but I can prove beyond any limits that in the past 7 days he has eaten chapatti at least thrice.  He's authored   THE FAMILY MAN ,   WHAT I WANT , GRIP REAPER ,  J'S COCUNUTS just to mention a handful. He is a huge Chelsea fan, a bruised te

Half a head

There were thin and bleak sounds, noises that were either real or imaginary. A sound of a wild bird in distress from a far, an owl maybe or a cardinal, accompanied by what sounded like uneasy movement and groaning noises from within. Those unnerving noises that make you believe hell is real and the damned has flung the gates open. He was in the police cell, the cell had huge shelves and guys were sleeping on the floor like they always do. You might have met this somewhere; you might have heard of it from the walls of your sitting room or the streets. It is a tale of this guy Boniface Kimanyano Ayoti, an epic face of crime, larger than life. A guy whose weakness was crime. Anything criminal triggered something in him. Something that not only made him content but also put him in a zone where nothing else could. Even though it can’t tell it all, Bonnie’s face is a tale of crime. Before you hear a word from him you know he’s not been an average human being. He has a swelling just above

The Holy Studio

  I met Philip Mutemi in the streets of wanderlust diaries. He wrote a piece that caused stir and led to a lot of fuss. If you know the wanderlust diaries you're safe. You may actually go to heaven if Christ comes today. His display picture is of a man seated with arms crossed in what looks like a pub. A man probably past middle age. Looking at him another time, I feel like he has four children. Again looking at him, he doesn’t look like in 2014 he was 20 years old, I mean he almost looks older than my father. He honestly couldn’t be 30 right now. All these observations I made because of how some people in the comment section threw stones at him. So, Philip claims that back in 2014 his 3 cousins, 4 neighbours and himself were to join campus. They were given money to go and buy laptops. What is campus life without a laptop? The next Monday early in the morning they were in Nairobi. There was one cousin who was street smart and managed to convince them the he was well acquainted wi