What could the curriculum be – if it was designed by the people who dropped out of school so that they could breathe? The latest issue of Chimurenga provides alternatives to prevailing educational pedagogy. Through fiction, essays, interviews, poetry, photography and art, contributors examine and redefine rigid notions of essential knowledge.
Presented in the form of a textbook, Chimurenga 15 simultaneously mimics the structure while gutting it. All entries are regrouped under subjects such as body parts, language, grace, worship and news (from the other side), numbers, parents, police and many more. Through a classification system that is both linear and thematic, the textbook offers multiple entry points into a curriculum that focuses on the un-teachable and values un-learning as much as it’s opposite.
Inside: Amiri Baraka waxes poetic on the theoretics of Be-Bop; Coco Fusco flips the CIA’s teaching manual for female torturers; Karen Press and Steve Coleman instruct in folk-dancing; Dambudzo Marechera proposes a “guide to the earth”; Dominique Malaquais designs the museum we won’t build; through self-portraits Phillip Tabane and Johnny Dyani offer method to the Skanga (black music family); and Winston Mankunku refuses to teach.
Other contributors include Binyavanga Wainaina, Akin Adesokan, Isoje Chou, Sean O’Toole, Pradid Krishen, E.C. Osundu, Salim Washington, Sefi Atta, Ed Pavlic, Neo Muyanga, Henri-Michel Yere, Medu Arts Ensemble, Aryan Kaganof, Khulile Nxumalo and Walter Mosley amongst others. Cover by Johnny “Mbizo” Dyani.
No Free Sleeping by Donald Parenzee, Vonani Bila and Alan Finlay (Botsotso, 1998)
This threesome reflects seemingly quite different sensibilities but running underground are common sources, primarily a genuine sense of observation and empathy.
Parenzee’s fine delineation of detail, his ideological openness but strong sense of justice link well with Vonani Bila’s ‘makoya poetry’ (rendered largely in Xitsonga with English translations).
This poetry that rails in its own manner against money madness and apartheid barbarism stands apart from Finlay’s quieter voice but both command reflection. After all, it is a phrase in a Finlay poem that titles this anthology. Finlay’s work in general contains images of dissolution in a search for meaning from suffering.