A HARVEST OF BOOKS

I got a very flattering letter this week from Mr Ishmael Soqaga, a South African writer, essayist, literary critic and Pan-Africanist. With his kind permission his letter is reproduced here:

Dear Omoseye Bolaji,

With the release of your book on poetry this week, I could not believe my eyes and I was filled with so much happiness for you. I am sure it has occurred to you that in respect of new books celebrating your works being churned out, this has been a most wonderful year for you. At this stage of your writing career, to have so many successful books out whilst the year still has three months to go is a tremendous achievement.

It must be a thrill for you to be witnessing all this whilst still alive. I think of outstanding African writers like Bessie Head, Dambudzo Marechera and Ingrid Jonker who died whilst relatively young. They are now acknowledged as great writers but this was only many years after their death. In your own case we are always hearing that you are “finished”, very sick” - but great literary things keep on happening to you.

I recollect that I was very happy early this year when you published a new book titled It Couldn’t Matter Less. This is a book I treasure very much, which I always turn to read every now and then, even if it is only a few chapters. It seems to get better every time I 

read parts of it. It really is a mature work of vignettes.

Mid this year I remember your shock and horror when you learnt that your childhood friend, Kunle Apantaku had died prematurely! You and Kunle used to write from your early days and it is no surprise his demise hit you very badly. Yet you turned this tragedy into something of a triumph by writing the book, KUNLE APANTAKU, a brilliant work that I believe everybody who loves African and international literature should read. It is also in my personal library.

Skhokho, I know you were delighted when the fantastic study book on you, BOLAJI IN HIS POMP was finally released a few weeks ago. The author, Ntate Pule Lechesa has really done a great job in the book; I can not even imagine how much research he must have done whilst putting the book together, with the bonus of that world class interview with you also in the book. This is a world class study that celebrates your literary contributions and more.

We are still awe-struck over the book, BOLAJI IN HIS POMP …then within the last couple of weeks two more books have been published - both written by you! At first I thought it was a joke (as you normally bring out one new book a year) but I have seen that these new books are a reality. Tebogo in the thick of things (2013) has been published by Mbali Press.

By the way, I think it is wonderful and positive when publishers are not afraid to bring out new books. I once read that African publishers would advise our writers to wait till like “next year” even if manuscripts written by the same author are outstanding. If some Eurocentric authors can bring out up to 6 new books (same author) out in one year, why can’t this be the same for African writers? Hence I am very happy that apart from Tebogo in the thick of things, Mbali Press has also just released your COLLECTED POEMS (2013) almost at the same time.

And lest I forget still this same year, Charmaine Kolwane, the hard-working intelligent young lady also published a book study on you called: Omoseye Bolaji: Channelling one’s thoughts onto paper. I love the way she analysed the last three or four of your “Tebogo Mystery books” It was my pleasure to finally chat with her (Mme Charmaine) at one major library a few weeks ago.

Allow me to say hearty congratulations Ntate Bolaji! I have no doubt in my mind that whatever happens to you in the future, you will always remember 2013 as an extraordinary year as regards book publication!

(P.S: I still haven’t managed to get a copy of your new Collected Poems; can you help me?)

Ishmael Mzwandile Soqaga (Mangaung)

THE MIFFED COUPLE

By Omoseye Bolaji

It was the usual “barmy” South African weather – right now, trees swayed in theatrical fashion providing an exterior background to this adequate watering hole; as I pondered the message that Lydia wanted to meet me at this venue. As she was a lovely lady I would not have minded, but she had added: “I am bringing my boyfriend,”

So as I sipped my drink inside this ‘spot’, I wondered what this was all about. Lydia was a young female friend of mine that I had met and liked some ten years ago. She was a very loyal, friendly lady and as the years elapsed and she had had two children to boot, we had still remained in contact; but I had not seen her for many months now.

But presently she arrived now, with a tall, good-looking young man beside her. The boyfriend, I thought. He looked like a decent young man and judging from the way he kept on staring at her it was clear that he was very much in love with her. Good for him. Lydia led the way towards me, the boyfriend just behind her.

Formally I stretched my hand out for a hand-shake but she embraced me warmly and even kissed me on the cheek. I tried to look staid and polite; shaking hands with the boyfriend. I smiled at him as he said: “Great to meet you at last Ntate Bolaji. Lydia has been talking about you for ages. Yes, I know you are an accomplished writer, newspaper editor etc but I never met you before. How are you sir?”

Some minutes later, both of them were seated beside me, their own drinks in front of them. We talked about the “old days”, Lydia’s mother, her two sisters etc. About her two children. “It’s incredible you can still look as lovely as this,” I said to her; then turning to the boyfriend: “I don’t need to tell you, that you are a lucky man,”

“I know Ntate,” the gentleman said, a smirk on his face. “She’s wonderful. Just look at her and you will never imagine she’s such a strong good woman who cooks and cleans. And she’s so intelligent and well read too. She used to say you in particular inspired her many years ago to love reading. I respect her and love her a lot,”

There was a silence, then Lydia said to her man, a hint of asperity in her voice: “You don’t need to pretend. You know you don’t respect me. In fact that’s the second reason why I wanted us to meet Ntate Bolaji today. I wanted to report you to him; that you don’t respect me; you are a rabasadi (playboy)!”

I stared into my drink, trying to look as bland and placid as possible. I knew from the past that Lydia could be hot-tempered and blunt. I said to her: “It’s clear that this gentleman worships the ground you walk on!”

“No he does not,” Lydia said. “Do you want me to tell you the hell he has been putting me through? My so-called man likes women so much – indiscriminately; even on the net! (Internet social network) He’s always propositioning women! I don’t know what else I can do to make him appreciate me,”

A bit embarrassed, I stared at the boyfriend who now said, “You know how women are; they are always suspicious. She does not want me to befriend any woman. Look how she has been hugging and cuddling close to you eg; if I was like her, I’d be jealous too; but I know she looks up to you. If you had been a bad person or had taken advantage of her in the past she would not respect you so much as she still does now. I understand. She always thinks I am after other women,”

“How dare you say that!” Lydia said to him now, her voice like a whiplash. “Do I have to go into details of other women you have been involved with? Remember that woman who came to you from Gauteng…you spent the night together in a hotel here while I was all alone at home!”

I was expecting the gentleman to deny this but he said sheepishly now: “For how long are you gonna punish me because of that episode?; it was just a mistake…it happened only once and you know why…”

“Shut up!” Lydia’s voice was harsh, strident and ruthless. “You slept with that woman! There is no way you can explain that away; it shows you have no respect for me…”

I stared at the boyfriend who looked so sad now. He said: “I was doing it for both of us, Lydia and I…she always fights me over money and this Gauteng lady was my business partner. She had always wanted me and she has plenty of money. I had to spend that night with her in the hotel so that she could cut me into a deal…it was a sacrifice I had to make”

With incredible speed, Lydia slapped him on the face! She had been so fast that I could hardly see what was going on; save for the staccato-like sound her slap made on his cheek. “How dare you insult me like that!” she glowered. “You insult me and try to justify it. Are you men so stupid that you can’t realize that if you had taken big money from that Gauteng woman, the one you slept with, she would have had a hold on you for ever…that you could not come back to me! You fool!”

This had become quite embarrassing indeed and I realized I had to do something. I told the gentleman that he had been very much in the wrong and he must never do anything so foolish again; that he was lucky to have such a woman (Lydia) in his life who on his own admission took care of him very much; that I was gratified that he said – and I could see for myself – that he was crazy over her….I just wanted to leave soonest. I did – do – not like getting involved in such private matters. Happily enough both of them seemed to be happy again and they were even squeezing hands.

"Thank you Ntate Bolaji,” the boyfriend said. “Thanks for the drinks too. WE invited you here so we should have bought the drinks, not you; but we appreciate,”

I grinned. “That’s okay,” I said “I have always been a mug,” but I don’t think he caught my joke.

I was happy to leave the intriguing couple!

LECHESA'S NEW BOOK-LENGTH STUDY ON O. BOLAJI

Publisher: MBALI PRESS

Sponsored by: NATIONAL ARTS COUNCIL OF SOUTH AFRICA