A Tribute to Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o from the Council of the Caine Prize for African Writing

Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o was my passport into publishing. Aged 21 and leaving university,  I saw an advertisement for a Graduate Trainee at Heinemann Educational Books. I stated that the reason I was applying was because I had read A Grain Of Wheat and, having been born and brought up in East Africa, felt a great affinity for African writers such as James Ngũgĩ, as he was then known.

I arrived at Heinemann in 1979, in good time to see the publication of Detained: A Writer’s Prison Diary in 1981, which was written on government lavatory paper.  In the run-up to its publication, he was a frequent visitor to our offices in Bedford Square and it was thrilling to meet him there, go to lunch, to The Africa Centre or even the pub with him. Despite being superficially quiet and softly spoken, he had a great sense of humour and was good company. In those early days of his exile he was pretty hard up, and Heinemann, under James Currey’s benign leadership,  became a second home and benefactor to him, as it was to many other writers such as Dambudzo Marechera.

We saw a lot of each other over the years before he went to the US. On one occasion, Alan Hill, Heinemann’s founder, James Currey  (AWS publisher) and I, were taking Chinua and Ngũgĩ to lunch; Alan had chosen the Institute of Directors and, despite both our esteemed authors wearing formal African shirts, they were not allowed in without a tie. Alan and James were both mortified, and our writers quite rightly refused to wear the ties proffered by the maître d’ to slip over their fancy shirts.

Ngũgĩ was central to the re-launching of the African Writers Series in 1986. The price of oil and the international financial crisis meant that African countries were no longer able to import books; for the AWS to continue to publish new writers, we had to find new markets, so we turned our attention to US universities and their African literature courses, and the UK trade market. In order to get shelf space in bookshops, we decided to upgrade to B format/trade paperback and commission colourful covers.

Here you see me presenting one such piece of original artwork to Ngũgĩ at the launch. There was a bit of outrage over the loss of the orange and black, but it was a small price to pay to continue to publish. Ngũgĩ was a staunch supporter during this frenetic and difficult period, as was Achebe: they both put the survival of the series above anything else. In Ngugi’s case it was more nuanced as he had already begun to publish in Gikuyu and allowed the AWS to publish the English translations as Devil on the Cross (1980), I Will Marry When I Want (1982) and Matigari (1989).

In this photo are Alan Hill, Ngũgĩ, Ali Mazrui, me with a scary hairstyle, and Chinua Achebe, who were amongst the many writers present.

In another photo we see a much more relaxed Ngũgĩ chatting to the poet Grace Nichols.

Ngũgĩ was always in demand on the conference circuit, and he came with us to the Zimbabwe Bookfair on at least one occasion. Here he is enjoying a joke with AWS author Cyprian Ekwensi, and Henry Chakava, Managing Director of Heinemann Kenya and one of his greatest friends and champions, supporting him through many arrests and other political confrontations with the authorities. Henry died in 2024.

It is extraordinary to think that I knew Ngũgĩ all my working life; his intellect and beliefs changed the course of African literature during his lifetime and he really deserved the elusive Noble Prize in recognition of his contribution to the genre, and indeed to literature as a whole.

Vicky Unwin, London, June 2025

Advisory Council Members Honour Alastair Niven (25th February 1944 – 26th March 2025)

It is with heavy hearts we announce the passing of Alastair Niven LVO OBE, one of the Prize’s longest-serving Trustees and Advisory Council members. Alastair – who retired from the Board in 2024 left an indelible mark, not just on the Prize but on the literary landscape. With a life dedicated to the arts, he leaves behind a legacy of what it means to be a cultural producer, facilitator and advocate. 

Alastair served as Principal of Cumberland Lodge, Windsor, from 2001 to 2013. Prior to that, he was Director of Literature at both the British Council and Arts Council England. His academic career included posts at the Universities of Ghana, Leeds, Stirling, London (SOAS), Aarhus, and Harris Manchester College, University of Oxford.

A distinguished literary scholar, Alastair authored books on D. H. Lawrence, Mulk Raj Anand, Raja Rao, and others, and contributed over a hundred articles and book chapters.

His long-standing association with the Commonwealth began as a Commonwealth Scholar and continued through roles such as Chair of the Commonwealth Writers Prize advisory committee and Editor of The Journal of Commonwealth Literature.

He also served as a Trustee of the Council for Education in the Commonwealth, President of English PEN, and Chairman of the UK Council for International Student Affairs. 

Chair of the Board of Trustees, Ellah Wakatama OBE commented: Alastair was a cherished colleague. He brought wisdom, experience and a true passion for the arts as a constant and hardworking member of the Caine Prize family in various capacities over the years. I will miss his serious approach and affable manner, and his support.

Advisory Council members honour Alastair Niven, reflecting on his role as a colleague, friend, and  literary champion.

Zodwa Nyoni: “I'd never met Alastair when he reached out to me to introduce himself and the work of the Caine Prize in 2022. He spoke of how he'd been following my writing career. It was such an unexpected, kind and earnest email. From then on, we spoke of the stories we enjoyed and places we'd travelled. He invited me to join the Advisory Council. I was honoured as I'd too been following the Prize and read the stories. In the short time I knew Alastair and had the opportunity to work alongside him on the Council, I appreciated how welcoming and committed to writers he was; and how passionate he was about the Prize and its growth. He will be dearly missed”

Margaret Busby: “It is difficult to process the sad loss of Alastair Niven, someone who featured in my life for more than half a century. As director of the Africa Centre (1978-84), succeeding founder and inaugural director Margaret Feeny, Alastair oversaw numerous exciting ventures involving literature (the Covent Garden building was always a welcoming venue for book launches), theatre, music and art, that helped consolidate its continuing reputation beyond his tenure and the Centre’s eventual move from central London.

“I saw it as a compliment that Alastair from time to time called on my judgement, whether to be on staff interviewing panels, or other committees. He was astute in the role of Literature Director of the Arts Council, for a decade from 1987 (I gave evidence at his request in one extraordinary case when a writer took legal action on the grounds of being discriminated against as a white applicant for a literature bursary that was specifically for writers of Afro-Caribbean or Asian origin), and we kept connected during his subsequent role as the British Council’s director of literature. I have fond recollections of one particular British Council trip to Paris in 2000 to participate in an Anglo/French seminar, travelling with Alastair on the Eurostar together with a brilliant group of writers, including Caryl Phillips, Andrea Levy, Abdulrazak Gurnah, Denise Narain DeCaires, Zadie Smith, Don Paterson, and of some memorable off-the-record conversations to which Alastair was a witty and entertaining contributor.

“He excelled in every position he held – whether heading up Cumberland Lodge or chairing the Commonwealth Writers’ Prize for a couple of decades – and it was a privilege to have professional opportunities to work with him.

“Both having shared time on Caine Prize boards over the years, we had been looking forward to collaborating on a volume of contributions to commemorate the Prize’s unmatched history, and discussing the way forward gave us a delightful reason to meet a couple of times last year, at the Athenaeum as well as at the current Africa Centre (together with Vimbai Shire).

“Advice he gave, drawing on a life of unique personal experience, was ever considered, principled, sound and immensely valuable. 

“But beyond all else, Alastair was a friend indeed.”

Vicky Unwin - “I have known Alastair since I was a 21-year-old graduate trainee at Heinemann, and he was the Director of the Africa Centre. This is where we showcased our visiting authors, and we spent many an evening celebrating the best of Africa’s talent. The Africa Centre in those days used to attract eminent leaders and I remember going to a private reception for Jesse Jackson - then a young and emerging politician. These were thrilling times and Alastair was always there - charming, wise, calm and kind. He allowed ATCAL (The Association for Teaching African and Caribbean Literature) and later, Wasafiri, to meet in the bar - once Neil Kinnock dropped in for a drink! 

“We remained friends throughout the years, comparing notes on writing memoirs, children, travels, visiting each other’s homes and celebrating milestones. He was always a steadying and calming influence, and this was true of his time as Caine Prize Board member and Chair of the Advisory Council, where he steered us through some rocky times and challenging discussions with grace and equanimity.

“I was so delighted when he invited me to lunch at the Athenaeum at the end of last year - ‘for old times sake’. Always a gentleman, we first had a glass of champagne followed by a delicious lunch, some fine wine (probably a bit too much) but, best of all, we had a good old chinwag, reminiscing about our last forty-plus years' friendship and the literary adventures they encompassed - not least the night he was Chair of the Booker Prize judges and I, heavily pregnant,  was representing Chinua who was shortlisted for Anthills of the Savannah…and Penelope Lively won, much to our disappointment. 

“That old cliche ‘he will be much missed’ really applies here, but I feel fortunate to have counted him as a good friend. My heart goes out to Helen and Isabella and Alexander.”

Wangui wa Goro: “Alastair’s passing away is a great loss to the literary world and his numerous friends, colleagues, and collaborators. I found Alastair to be a wise, gentle and kind human being. He was a person of conviction, influence and great wisdom. He had deep knowledge, awareness, insight and sensitivity, and focused on what needed to be done, and done properly. I witnessed him navigate difficult moments with great tact on several occasions. I had heard of Alastair before we met in 1984, and later through our mutual dear friend, now departed, the translator and critic, Ranjana Ash who invited us both to lunch. 

“We have since had many wonderful collaborations stretching over forty years, ranging from Commonwealth matters to the Arts Council of England and the British Council where he served.  Alastair was a stalwart and tireless champion for literature in general, and literary translation in particular, such as through the British Centre for Literary Translation (BCLT) on whose advisory body both Ranjana and I sat, and English PEN. The icing on the cake was our SIDENSI collaboration in the Lost and Found in Translation and Traducture Conference at Cumberland Lodge in 2011 when Alastair was Principal. We were accommodated with great warmth by Alastair, Helen and the staff for a most memorable experience for all of us.  

“There are many highlights to our friendship, such as a memorable trip to the Zimbabwe International Book Fair as judges of the 100 African Books of the Twentieth Century where we rode to Marondera and back to Harare with a Kenyan friend.  Another was the award ceremony in Cape Town celebrating these 100 best books in the presence of President Mandela.

“We enjoyed precious moments of exchange in private, and I will always cherish these. 

“Much more will be heard of Alastair who will be greatly missed. My heartfelt condolences and gratitude to Helen, Isabella and Alexander.”

Dotti Irving: “I’m deeply saddened to hear that Alastair has died. I got to know him primarily through the Booker Prize.  My company, Colman Getty, handled PR and event management for the prize and Alastair and his wife Helen were regular guests at the annual awards dinner.  

“Alastair had the rare distinction of being invited to be a Booker judge twice. The first was in 1994 when James Kelman was the controversial winner with How Late It Was, How Late and then again in 2014, when Richard Flanagan won with The Narrow Road to the Deep North. I got to know him well in both of those years.

“Alastair and I shared another bond in that we were both Scottish.  Many years ago, I took part in a panel discussion about the Booker with Alastair, Penelope Lively and Neel Mukherjee.  When we were asked by the sound technician to describe what we had had for breakfast – a standard recording procedure to establish satisfactory sound levels – Alastair explained very earnestly that he had porridge every day from the first of October to the 31st of March and then on the first of April he switched to muesli for the following six months.  That was so Scottish of him!  I teased him about it every time I saw him, and the first of April and the first of October never come round without my thinking of him. 

“Alastair was a good man and he will be much missed.  I send my sincere condolences to Helen and his family in their loss.”

Nana Wilson-Tagoe: “I am only now realizing I have known Alastair personally and professionally for over 40 years! We met through our mutual friend, Kofi Agovi, a good friend of Alastair and Helen when they were both single and teaching in Ghana. Kofi shared a personal bond with Alastair and Helen because of what he often called his personal ‘magical’ manoeuvring in their meeting and eventual marriage. I was drawn into their bond, and I too claimed Alastair as a fellow Ghanaian.

“The connection paid off handsomely in 1985 when as a newly arrived Chapman Fellow at the Institute of Commonwealth Studies, I struggled to set up a seminar series on Commonwealth Literature. I quickly sought Alastair’s help, and he graciously came to my aid, introducing me to his contacts and participating in most of the seminars. 

“I worked with Alastair and others on various other literary projects – BBC panel discussions, the Commonwealth and Caine Prize, the 100 Best Books in Africa project, the Zimbabwe Book Fair- and at all these collaborative events, Alastair was a clear-thinking, incisive, witty and kind presence. He gave so much of his time and talent to the exploration, dissemination and promotion of literature, and his indelible footprints are everywhere in Commonwealth, African and International literatures. I mourn Alastair as a friend, a fellow Ghanaian and a literary brother and I extend my deepest condolences to Helen, Alexander, Isabel and their families.”

--- Additional Comments and Tributes to note ---

Further tributes to Alastair Niven have been posted online by numerous friends and admirers:

• Read the tribute in the Guardian which includes comments from Ben Okri and Bernadine Evaristo here.

• Read the tribute by the Africa Centre, UK written by Olu Alake here.

• Read the tribute by Stephen Spender Trust written by Jonathan Heawood here.

• Read the tribute by English PEN here.

• Read the tribute by Cumberland Lodge here.

--- End ---

A Tribute to Nick Elam from the Council of The Caine Prize for African Writing

Nick Elam, who died on 24th November 2024, was one of the co-founders and the first administrator of the Caine Prize. For years he was at the epi-centre of it all, remaining on the Council until 2021 after his retirement as administrator in 2011, yet in his Times obituary the Prize gets only a passing mention. That is not to diminish his work with Caine, but rather demonstrates what an extraordinary rich and varied life he led.

He was born in Somerset in in 1939, attended the RGS in Colchester where his father was headmaster, and read history at New College Oxford. He showcased his early love of the arts and culture and penchant for causing a stir by spending half the College’s annual budget on a piece by a then-unknown artist, Joe Tilson - described in his obituary as ‘a stalwart of the British pop art movement’.

After a year at Harvard he joined the British diplomatic service, with postings to South Africa, Bahrain, Belgium and Canada. In Cape Town he met and, in 1967, married Helen, a Dutch emigree who worked in the French Embassy. They had three children, Peter, Alex and Mike.

It was in South Africa and then Zimbabwe that his love of Africa and African arts and culture blossomed. He was posted to Zimbabwe just before independence in 1979 as the economic advisor to Lord Soames, and then acting and deputy High Commissioner. He loved his time in Zimbabwe, despite its challenges – or maybe because of them.

Recognising his unique flair for the arts, in 1987 the FCO appointed him head of the cultural relations department, concentrating on building links with the Soviet Union and other eastern bloc countries, a position he held for seven years until he was posted to Luxembourg as Ambassador.

In Luxembourg he requisitioned unused embassy space and converted it to studios and invited artists such as Julian Bond, the inaugural sculptor, and Edmund de Waal (who created 60 pots there) to take up residencies. As de Waal said, ‘It's sometimes good to be part of another world’ - joining the ambassador and his guests was one of the unusual aspects of this experience. Part of the deal was to promote British arts to visiting dignitaries such as PD James, Denis Lasdun and Douglas Hurd; Elam was fond of taking them for post-prandial tours of his creative space. The Luxembourg government was so impressed they co-funded the venture, which was supplemented by artists’ sales from their output and local sponsorship. A win-win for all involved.

In addition to his pivotal role in the founding of the Caine Prize, in his retirement he was also a director of Dance Umbrella and chair of the Henry Oguike dance company.

I first met Nick when I was appointed to the Caine Prize Council in 2011, the same year I served as a judge with a most illustrious panel chaired by Hisham Matar, comprising Ellah Wakatama-Allfrey, Aminatta Forna, and David Gewanter. Meetings always finished with sandwiches and wine – for Nick was a bon viveur who enjoyed the good things in life, and it helped provide an informal space for the council to get to know each other.

He revelled in the Caine Prize Award Ceremonies especially when they were held at his alma mater, in the Bodleian library. He was a great socialiser and made a point of getting to know all the attendees – ranging from the writers to the VIP guests. It was largely thanks to his networks that Caine enjoyed steady funding and sponsorship during his stewardship.

He was also extremely kind; when our daughter died unexpectedly the very year, I was on the judging panel he showed great compassion and understanding. He was a devoted father and family man; we saw that side of him as we got to know one of his sons Peter who, in a twist of fate, was my husband’s boss in Switzerland.

Sir Ben Okri, Caine’s founding Vice -President, perfectly encapsulates Nick Elam’s maverick qualities – which is what set him apart from many of his contempories - and recognises his contribution to the Caine and African literature: it was a combination of ‘diplomatic skills, joie de vivre, appetite for life and storytelling’. He will be much missed and fondly remembered by us all and, on behalf of the Caine Prize, we send our condolences to Helen, Peter, Mike and Alex and their families.

Vicky Unwin, London, January 2025

Creating the Caine Prize Shortlist: The Agony of Choosing and the Stories that Almost Made it

The question that I have been asked most frequently is ‘What is it like judging a prize?’ The answer is: it is a privilege but also emotionally taxing. You want to honour the hard work and creativity that went into the writing of each short story. Ten stories in (there were 230 stories eligible), you realise, with heartbreaking clarity, that there will be far, far more worthy stories than there are finalist slots. [It is here that I found Petina Gappah’s essay particularly helpful. Dear Tete Petina: I Am Not on the Caine Prize Shortlist | By Petina Gappah (brittlepaper.com)  I – we – could not magic up more finalist places, much as we would have liked to.] How does one choose between them?

At an early panel meeting, I had asked my fellow judges what they looked for in a short story – they were, after all, published writers of some renown. The answers were: ‘Well, I like a story to have a good ending’; ‘I think a story should have a good hook’; ‘I really like it when the author feels free to intersperse words from their mother tongue – it feels more natural’; ‘I don’t know – I just have to really like it. It has to grip me from beginning to end, to surprise me; and ending with, ‘I will know when I find “the one”.’ Reader, I am trying to tell you that there is no science to this. It is about what gives one ‘the feels’. In my case, it was also about thinking about a broader audience beyond the literary elite who edit or read literary magazines. Literature, in my opinion must be accessible to all – not just materially, but also in terms of comprehensibility and contextual legibility. My 77-year-old mother’s favourite book is Mariama Bâ’s So Long a Letter. It is not a complex book, but it is a universal story, well told. It has resonated across generations and through decades. It is rightly considered to be a classic.  In judging, I was cognisant too, that tastes and literary styles differ. There had, in my view, to be something for everyone.  More challenging for me was that there were so many themes that were explored with beauty and insight.

Themes

The breadth came in the themes covered. It was not surprising that COVID came up as did stories on migration – both transnational and within borders. Stories about love between two people of the same gender were submitted. Powerful were the environmental apocalypse stories. Sympathetically realised were stories about albinism. One or two I read as political allegories. Exquisite in its gentle quietness, was a story about the life of a petrol attendant. Charming was the story written as if it were an entry in a non-fiction science book. Stunning was the use of architecture and the construction of homes to explore domestic violence. There were dystopian stories about medical experimentation. I liked that there were stories set in both urban and rural areas and in different historical periods. Some intercut histories of resistance and survival – African with African American  – to great effect. We were moved by the stories of ordinary people doing their best to get by – the widowed mother in the refugee camp and the young men hustling on the streets of Lagos. I liked that the stories reflected the whole lifecycle – from birth to old age. There were morality tales with a sting (don’t dump your university love for escort work – you’ll regret it, was one). There were others. The exploration of masculinity was fresh.  Food was a theme – not least in stories from Nigeria. I have enjoyed gallons of egusi soup and look forward to more snails. Music resonated through some stories, in the rhythm of the writing as well in the naming of artists and tunes.

Were there any that we did not like? Well, I grew weary of paw paw-coloured skin which, more often than not, seemed to have an association with beauty. The colourism did not sit well with me.  I was not keen on the misogyny on display in a couple of stories, especially as the stories were not well told making it an endurance without reward. Yes, judges being human, have biases too. There were stories that could and should have been better edited – spelling mistakes in the first line do not bode well. Those of my fellow judges who had read one or two stories in their original form felt that some of the translations did not do the original justice. One or two of the longer-form stories (between seven to nine thousand words) read as if they were chapters culled from a novel in progress and sent in. The writing was good but one had the sense that reading the extract in context would have been a more rewarding experience.

So, how does one decide?

The answer is  – with great difficulty.  Judges received an Excel sheet with links to the stories. The Excel sheet was numbered from AA001 to AA230. I started at the top but would print stories from the bottom to read when my eyes grew tired of reading online or when I was travelling and not sure of the internet connection. One had to grade the stories from 1-5.  In addition, I had an A4-size notebook labelled ‘Caine Prize’. I wrote a short summary of each submission on the Excel sheet and reasons for its grade, while my notebook was a conversation with myself and my response after reading each story. On the spreadsheet, I marked out those that I thought were definite contenders by using bold text, those that were maybe were italicised. This was supposed to help to whittle the list down, but I ended up with over 30 stories. Re-reading did not lead to cutting out many. I tried refining by themes but there were inter-theme ties or stand-offs. It felt like a cacophony of ‘pick me’ ‘pick me!’ in my head. My family grew tired of my lengthy discourses about the relative merits of stories that they had not read, finally observing that I seemed to like so many, in other words, please – enough!

At the end, we were told to submit our five finalists. Our pleas for a longlist of ten fell on deaf ears. Clearly, the organisers have heard the special pleading before. I tried to cheat by having a tie. Our choices were put on a spreadsheet and then the discussion began. It took close to four hours and multiple rounds of voting and discussion. We all lost at least one story that we loved – most of us, more than one. I am a human rights lawyer and the process reminded me of how human rights treaties are drafted – they go through multiple discussions and negotiations and what emerges is what can be agreed on.

Luckily, ours was a happy, supportive, thoughtful and truly wonderful family to be a part of. Our emails including: ‘I think I found the one!’ to, ‘I’m still looking’ to wondering about the advantages of polyamory (the love of many) were always bountiful in their kindness, humour and determination to do our best by the people who had honoured us with their submissions.

Will everyone agree with our choices? No. As I have said, we all have ‘the one that got away’. That makes at least five – meaning this could easily have been a different shortlist.  For those who submitted in 2023 – a deep, heartfelt thank you. I have made note of so many stories that I will read again, use in my teaching and writing or share with others. You have enriched our lives and we thank you. Please keep writing – your work is important. Thank you too to the editors whose work, though unseen, is central to the production of the stories that are submitted. Thanks are also due to the publishers, for submitting the stories, and indeed, for providing them a home to begin with.  Aluta!

Fareda Banda, Chair of Judges (2023)

A Tribute to C.J. (Jonty) Driver from the Council of The Caine Prize for African Writing

Jonty Driver, who has died aged 83, was in every way a large and impressive presence on the Advisory Council of The Caine Prize, joining it at its inception and only resigning from it in 2020.  Jonty was a big man physically: this was always the first thing anybody said about him when they first met him.  Within a short while, however, they would be saying he was a big man morally.  He was never afraid to speak his mind, even when he felt that the balance of opinion might be going against him.

Jonty had the right background for speaking up, having served in 1963 and 1964 as president of the National Union of South African Students. It is hard to recall for those who were not alive at the peak of apartheid how exposed a position this was.  Jonty felt that his responsibilities lay to all students, not just those like himself who were white and from a relatively privileged background.  Inevitably he aroused suspicion in the paranoic world of the South African government and its spying agencies.  He was arrested and spent several weeks in solitary confinement.  Never formally charged, he decided on release to leave South Africa and to come to England.  The metaphorical scars of what he had been through, and what he had seen among deprived communities in black South Africa, never left him. Even in old age he felt, by his association with The Caine Prize and with the Beit Trust, that he was paying something back to the continent and to the country which had nurtured him at the expense of so many millions less advantaged.

He was a literary man through and through.  His novel Elegy for a Revolutionary came out in 1969 and is still regarded as a classic exposition of the liberal dilemmas of the day. Is armed conflict justified in opposing a tyrannous regime?   Jonty was the author of five novels in all and went on to write two biographies of South African dissenters, Patrick Duncan and John Harris. 

I suspect, however, that he wanted most of all to be remembered as a poet.  His collections So Far and Still Further bring together most of his major poems written between 1960 and 2020.  They are various in subject, some personal, some public, but always they seem to me to be pressing against the forms that poetry can take, as though he wanted to mould new shapes and possibilities for the art itself.  He was a great believer in the pamphlet poem, such as The Slave-Bell at Doornhoek, which he accompanied with a water colour, ‘a painting and a poem’.   It was from this late work that I quoted at our most recent Council meeting:

                                  ‘The names we gave the places where we lived

                                    (not all that long ago) are changing now,

                                    to what they might have been before we came,

                                    or what we might have wished they would have been

                                    if we had never settled here.   How vain

                                    that we should think we could repair the past

                                    or give that bell another, better voice.’

Jonty was a paradoxical man.  A revolutionary, yet a conservative.  A man horrified by injustices perpetrated by his own class and breed, yet the successful headmaster of three independent schools - Berkhamsted School and Wellington College in England, and the Island School in Hong Kong – which some people might say exist to perpetuate these élites.  He was above all an immensely kind man.  On several occasions my wife and I visited Jonty and his wife Ann at their serene bookish home in east Sussex.  They were a model couple in the manner in which they faced some of the debilities of old age.  Jonty did most of the cooking because he loved to do so.  Anything he embarked on he did with the utmost fastidiousness.  The result was, for example, a perfect salmon mousse, the recipe for which I shall always treasure.  He was a rounded ‘man o’ pairts’, as we say in Scotland. 

And coming back to the Caine Prize, he was always wise and judicious in his counsel. He valued the Prize because it recognises so many voices that might otherwise remain unheard.  It also allowed him to stay connected with the African literary world, in which he had played a major role.  His sister’s partner is J. M. Coetzee.  If I had such a formidable Nobel laureate in my family I would be anxious about anything I wrote, but Jonty was uncowed.  In his way he was no lesser a writer and, like Coetzee, he was one of the greatest sons of modern South Africa.  The Caine Prize should be proud of its links with him and must pass to his widow our sorrow at his passing.

Alastair Niven, London, August 2023

A Tribute to Ama Ata Aidoo from the Council of The Caine Prize for African Writing

The name of Ama Ata Aidoo deserves to feature high on any list of influential Anglophone African writers, particularly notable for giving a perspective on women to be found nowhere else. She made her mark not only as an author – with plays, novels, short stories, poetry and essays – but also as a politician, an academic and an activist. Holding strong Pan-Africanist views, she was fearlessly outspoken about the centuries of exploitation of Africa's resources and peoples (as can be heard in a video clip about imperialism that went viral), and always made it clear that she learned her first feminist lessons in Africa.

Born in 1940, Christina Ama Ata Aidoo began the trajectory that launched her literary life in a Fante village in the Central Region of what was then the Gold Coast, where she was born to Maame Elizabeth Aba Abasema Bosu and Nana Manu III – also known as Nana Yaw Fama, chief of Abeadzi Kyiakor. Ama Ata was her mother’s first child, though she had many older siblings from her father’s other wives. She grew up in her father’s royal household, shaped by the stimulus of interactions between family as well as those who came to the chief with local issues.

Her father built the village’s first school, which she began attending in 1946. She went on to win a scholarship at 14 to the prestigious Wesley Girls High School in Cape Coast in 1957. During this time, her love of reading and writing was nurtured, leading in 1958 to her receiving first prize for a story in a Daily Graphic competition. Completing her A-levels in 1960, she was admitted the next year to the University of Ghana, Legon, studying for a BA degree in English, while simultaneously demonstrating her creative skill at whatever writing genre she attempted. In 1962, she won an Mbari Club short-story competition with her entry “No Sweetness Here”, and poetry prizes, too, came her way.

While still an undergraduate, Aidoo wrote her first play, The Dilemma of a Ghost, premiered in 1964 at the Open-Air Theatre, and in 1965 published by Longman – an achievement marking her out as the first published female African dramatist. She joined the Institute of African Studies for two years, until 1966, benefiting from the mentorship of literary pioneer Efua Sutherland. Then, as the winner of a creative writing fellowship, Ama Ata went to Stanford University in California. A spell in the UK followed, freelancing in broadcasting and journalism, and travels took her elsewhere in Europe and on the African continent, including Tanzania and Kenya, where her daughter Kinna was born in Nairobi, with 1969 also bringing a return to Ghana.

In 1970 came her second play, Anowa, and the short-story collection No Sweetness Here. A rising academic career took her to the Department of English at the University of Cape Coast, where she became a professor, participating in many international seminars and educational initiatives. Her witty and unconventional debut novel Our Sister Killjoy: or Reflections from a Black-eyed Squint was published in 1977.

She was appointed Secretary for Education in Ghana in 1982 under the PNDC administration of Jerry Rawlings, but resigned after 18 months, realizing that she would be unable to achieve her aim of making education in Ghana freely accessible to all.

In 1983, she moved to live in Zimbabwe, continuing her work in education, alongside her writing. While in Harare, she published a collection of poems in 1985, Someone Talking to Sometime, and wrote a children's book entitled The Eagle and the Chickens and Other Stories (1986). From the late 1980s, she was again in the US, including a spell as writer-in-residence at the University of Richmond, Virginia, in 1989. In 1991, she and poet Jayne Cortez founded and co-chaired the Organization of Women Writers of Africa.

In 1992, Ama Ata won the Commonwealth Writers' Prize with her remarkable novel Changes, and she turned again to poetry with her collection An Angry Letter in January; that same year, I was delighted to include her story "Two Sisters" in my anthology Daughters of Africa. (An anthologist in her own right, she edited 2006’s African Love Stories, published by Ayebia Books.) Ama Ata Aidoo’s commitment to promoting and supporting the literary work of African women was demonstrated again by her establishment of the Mbaasem Foundation in Ghana in 2000.

Aligned with the principled life choices she made, and the stalwart beliefs framed by her own experiences, she portrayed in her works memorable women who defied stereotypes in empowering and inspirational ways, negotiating, examining and exploring the intersections of Western and African worldviews.

From 2004 to 2011, Ama Ata was a visiting professor in the Africana Studies Department at Brown University. She chaired the Ghana Association of Writers Book Festival from its inception in 2011. In 2012, she published Diplomatic Pounds & Other Stories, a compilation of short stories. Somehow, she found time, year in and year out, to support ventures she deemed worthy, such as the Etisalat Prize for Literature, created in 2013 as a platform for African writers of debut novels of fiction.

Her genuine humility was never affected by the many accolades she received, including the 2012 volume Essays in honour of Ama Ata Aidoo at 70 (edited by Anne V. Adams, with a stellar list of contributors, among them: Atukwei Okai, Maryse Condé, Micere Mugo, Toyin Falola, Biodun Jeyifo, Kofi Anyidoho, Naana Jane Opoku-Agyemang, Naana Banyiwa Horne, Nana Wilson-Tagoe, Carole Boyce Davies, Emmanuel Akyeampong, James Gibbs, Vincent O. Odamtten, Jane Bryce, Esi Sutherland-Addy, Femi Osofisan, Kwesi Yankah, Abena Busia, Yaba Badoe, Ivor Agyeman-Duah, Chikwenye Okonjo Ogunyemi, Ngugi Wa Thiong'o, and Kinna Likimani), and being the subject of a fascinating 2014 documentary film by Yaba Badoe, The Art of Ama Ata Aidoo. In March 2017, the Ama Ata Aidoo Centre for Creative Writing (Aidoo Centre) was launched in Accra (Nii Parkes was its inaugural director), furthering her legacy.

Having already lived a full life defined from its earliest by so much creativity, versatility, integrity and generosity, Ama Ata had even more in mind that she had hoped to give us – including finalising a new novel she told me she had been working on for 18 years. Her death on 31 May 2023 came as a shock, an irreparable loss to family and friends, to everyone fortunate enough to have known her personally. The only mitigation is that her extraordinary talent, tenacity of spirit and the perceptiveness that shines through her writing will live on, sustaining us all into a more optimistic future.

                                                Margaret Busby, London, August 2023

Online Entries for Caine Prize for African Writing 2021

Dear Friends and Colleagues,

I hope this finds you well. I am sure many of you will know that we are moving to a digital process as the main way of accepting entries to the Caine Prize for African Writing; as this is the first year we are utilising an online entry process for the prize, alongside a number of internal matters within the prize we aim to resolve soon - we hope you will assist us in the process of receiving entries online for the first time by undertaking the following three steps:

1. Submitting your entries via the entry form provided here - which can also be accessed via this link: https://caineprize.typeform.com/to/xbT077

2. Send a back up copy of each entry to the following email address: caineprizesubmissions@gmail.com  –

3. Send a single print copy for reference to the Caine Prize address at:

The AKO Caine Prize for African Writing

CAN Mezzanine Building

7-14 Great Dover Street

London, SE1 4YR

E-mail: info@caineprize.com

The final submission date for entries remains the 31st January 2021, as do the entry criteria for authors and publishers, which are outlined here in more detail.

Yours Sincerely,

Dele Meiji Fatunla,

Administrator, The Caine Prize for African Writing

Equality Statement: AKO Caine Prize for African Writing

As we approach the announcement of the 2020 Winner of the AKO Caine Prize for African Writing, celebrating the best short stories as chosen by our panel of judges, we find ourselves in a world in turmoil, flux and increasing polarisation.  Our creative community and the wider society are engaged in the discussion of important issues of race, discrimination, gender, identity, and equality - issues often embraced by our writers’ stories. These are important conversations and it is a time to affirm values we hold close.

We at the AKO Caine Prize stand firmly on the side of equality. The AKO Caine Prize is here to support writers of African descent, to amplify their voices and to bring new readers to their works. In doing so, we are committed to the active support of all African writers regardless of their sexuality, gender or gender identity and expression. As a continent of people who have too often been defined by others, we affirm the paramount importance of the individual’s right to name themselves and to be called by their own name. Our commitment is to equality of opportunity and respect for the individual. These are values to which we as staff, trustees and members of the Advisory Council seek to promote. You will see, from our past winners and our current shortlist, that this commitment is one we actively express through the medium of our writers’ telling of stories and the wide and diverse range of characters around which these stories are woven.

We invite you to join us as we celebrate the multiplicity of lives and experiences our writers have imagined.

The Winner of the 2020 AKO Caine Prize for African Writing will be announced on 27 July. Read the shortlist here.

Ellah P. Wakatama OBE
Chair of the AKO Caine Prize for African Writing

Statement: African Authors Sans Frontieres in Solidarity with African-Americans

African Authors Sans Frontieres in Solidarity with African-Americans

 As African writers without borders who are connected beyond  geography with those who live in the United States of America and other parts of the African diaspora, we state that we condemn the acts of violence on Black people in the United States of America. We note in dismay that what Malcolm X said in Ghana in 1964 that “for the twenty million of us in America who are of African descent, it’s not an American dream; it’s an American nightmare” remains true for 37 million in 2020.

We condemn the murders of:

George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Sandra Bland, Amadou Diallo, Ahmaud Arbery, Aiyana Mo’Nay Stanly-Jones,  Tony McDade, Pamela Turner, Matthew Ajibade, Rekia Boyd, Eric  Garner, John Crawford III, Michael Brown, Shelly Frey,  Ezelll Ford, Dante Parker, Michelle Casseaux, Yvette Smith, Darnesha Harris, Laquan Mcdonald, Atatiana Jefferson, George Mann, Tanisha Anderson, Akai Gurley, Tamir Rice, Rumain Brisbon, Jerame Reid, Frank Smart, Natasha Mckenna, Tony Robinson, Anthony Hill, William Chapman II, Alberta Spruill, Walter Scott, Shantell Davis, Eric Harris, Philip White, Mya Hall, Alexia Christian, Brendon Glenn, Victor Manuel Larosa, Jonathan Sanders, Salvado Ellswood, Joseph Mann, Freddie Blue, Albert Joseph Davis,  Darrius Stewart, Billy Ray Davis, Samuel Dubose, Troy Robinson, Christian Taylor, Sean Bell, Brian Keith Day, Michael Sabbie, Asshams Pharoah Manley, Felix Kumi, Keith Harrison McLeod, Junior Prosper, Anthony Ashford, Dominic Hutchinson, Paterson Brown, Lamontez Jones, Bettie Jones, Alonzo Smith,  Tyree Crawford India Kager, Janet Wilson, Sylville Smith, Benni Lee Tignor, Yvonne Smallwood, Kayla Moore  and all other names, known and unknown, that represent human beings who are our kin. 

Our blood.

We support the protests in the United States and across the world as our people demand justice for any and all racial killings whether by police or civilians. We are aware that these are not quiet protests. We do not expect it and neither should the United States of America. The killings were not done quietly. The police brutality and state sanctioned murders were done loudly with no fear of consequences from those who perpetrated them.  

We acknowledge the African Union’s condemnation of the United States government’s  continuous terrorism towards African-Americans. We believe that the African Union can and should do better. 

We ask that African governments recognise our alliance and connections with our brothers and sisters across borders, from America to Brazil and through the rest of the diaspora. That they offer those who choose it: refuge, homes and citizenship in the name of pan-Africanism. 

We demand that the American legal institutions independently investigate every police killing as well as investigate any complaint against police violence. 

We demand that any accused be suspended without pay until a fair trial clears them of charges. In essence, we are asking the United States of America to be brave enough to adhere to its own bill of rights so that it can be the land of the free for ALL Americans regardless of colour, creed or sexual orientation. 

We assert that Black Lives Matter. As writers, we raise our fists in solidarity with those who refuse to be silenced. To our brothers and sisters in the United States, we stand with you. 

We ask all decent human beings to join us in being our brothers’ and sisters’ keepers. As they protest in the United States, please give whatever donations you can to #BlackLivesMatter https://secure.actblue.com/donate/ms_blm_homepage_2019

SIGNED: 

1.     Chris Abani

2.     Kelvin Nonvignon Adantchede

3.     Ali J Ahmed

4.     Abdilatif Abdalla 

5.     Yasmin Abdel -Magied

6.      Leila Aboulela

7.      Leye Adenle

8.     Bisi Adjapon

9.     Jose Eduardo Agualusa

10.  Ali J Ahmed

11.  Júlio de Almeida

12.  Ayesha Harruna Attah

13.  Sefi Atta

14.  Meti Birabiro 

15.  Tanella Boni

16.  Nana Brew-Hammond

17.  Noviolet Bulawayo

18.  Shadreck Chikoti

19.  Nana Awere Damoah

20.   Tolu Daniel

21.  Ibrahim El Khalil Diallo

22.  Boubacar Boris Diop

23.  Raoul Djimeli

24.   Edwige Dro

25.   Ainehi Edoro-Glines

26.  Chike Frankie Edozien

27.  Filinto Elisio

28.  Kalaf Epalanga

29.  Amir Tag Elsir

30.  Mona Eltahawy

31.  Ubah Cristina Ali Farah

32.  Virgilia Ferrao

33.  Aminatta Forna

34.  Chimeka Garricks

35.  Kadija George

36.  Laurence Gnaro

37.  Hawa Jande Golakai

38.  Isatou Alwar Graham

39.  Francisco Guita Jr

40.  Helon Habila

41.  Osman Ahmed Hassan

42.  Suad Sadig Hassan

43.  Pede Hollist 

44.  Abdelmoumin Ibrahim

45.   Abubakar Adam Ibrahim

46.  Tsitsi Ella Jaji

47.  Nozizwe Cynthia Jele

48.  Mamle Kabu

49.  Mubanga Kalimamukwento

50.  Tamanda Kanjaye

51.  Precious Colette Kemigisha

52.  Grada Kilomba

53.  Moses Kilolo

54.  David Lukudu

55.  Beata Umubyeyi Mairesse

56.  Angela Makholwa

57.  Nick Makoha

58.   Jennifer Makumbi

59.  Napo Masheane

60.  Mohale Mashigo

61.  Makanaka Mavengere

62.  Eusebius Mckaiser

63.  José Luís Mendonça

64.   Maaza Mengiste

65.  Thando Mgqolozana

66.  Niq Mhlongo

67.  Amna Mirghani

68.  Nadifa Mohamed

69.   Natalia Molebatsi

70.  Yara Monteiro

71.  Merdi Mukore

72.  Marie-Louise Mumbu

73.   Richard Ali Mutu

74.  Kevin Mwachiro

75.   Remy Ngamije

76.  Siphiwe Gloria Ndlovu

77.  Mukoma wa Ngugi

78.  Nducu Wa Ngugi

79.   Natasha Omokhodion-Banda

80.  Ondjaki

81.  Troy Onyango 

82.  Tochi Onyebuchi

83.  Chinelo Okparanta

84.  Gabriel Adil Osman

85.  Ladan Osman

86.  Yvonne Adhiambo Owuor

87.  Nii Ayikwei Parkes

88.  Abreu Paxe

89.  Mbate Pedro

90.  Pepetela

91.  Yovanka Paquete Perdigão

92.  Hannah Azieb Pool

93.  Jorge Querido

94.  Sanaa Abu Qussasa

95.  Djamila Ribeiro

96.  Abdelaziz Baraka Sakin

97.  Mohamedou Ould Salahi

98.  Hassan Ghedi Santur

99.  Malebo Sephodi

100.  Lemya Shammat

101.    Lola Shoneyin

102.   Lemn Sissay

103.   Kola Tubosun

104.   Chika Unigwe

105.     Abdourahman Waberi

106.    Zukiswa Wanner