April 03, 2005
Plural - a short story
As Mariama Diallo approached the large whitewashed hut on the outskirts of the village, a gentle tapping from within told her that she was not too late. Behind her echoed the syncopated thudding of a hundred poles and mortars - the sound of African afternoon.
Continue reading "Plural - a short story"
Posted by sahelsteve at 06:09 PM
January 21, 2005
Hitting the Clouds Radio Play
After writing the short story Hitting the Clouds I realized that it would be better suited to a radio play. I wrote most of the script back in November and finished it off today. Just sent it off to Radio 4.
You can read the first couple scenes of 'Hitting the Clouds' here.
Posted by sahelsteve at 09:49 PM
December 23, 2004
Ideas 4 Writers competition
I just noticed that my short story 'Judgement Day' has been shortlisted in the Ideas 4 Writers comedy competition.
It seems that judgement day (small j) is 1 April 2005. Wish me luck.
Posted by sahelsteve at 10:39 PM
October 22, 2004
Hitting the Clouds
The following story is fiction, but the practice of weather modification across the Sahel is a fact. In 1998 Blaise Campaore, president of Burkina Faso, initiated Operation Saga with the help of Moroccan meteorology experts. The Operation is still continuing and has so far been a (limited) success.
I am apprentice to a maabo. My father says that I am bringing shame on my family and on my noble birth. He says that a maabo has no more dignity than a beggar and that if he ever sees me holding a hoddu in public, he will thrash me with a bicycle chain.
My father’s anger will not last because he secretly adores the maabos. I remember when Maabo Farkatouri visited Baraboulé. If I close my eyes I can see Farkatouri now, sitting cross-legged on the tailor's table in the marketplace, plucking his one-string hoddu and staring through us with his riverblind eyes. And my father sitting in the Chair and staring back at him as unblinking as a gecko, drinking up the stories like sweet camel milk. When Farkatouri finished telling of the Omniscient Twins of Timbuktu, my father clapped his hands and begged for more. Then Farkatouri sang the exploits of Ousmana dan Fodio in the Hausaland jihad and my father's knees trembled beneath his robes. I know it because I was sitting on his knees at the time, myself not yet ten rainy seasons old. That was a long ago.
When did I make the decision to renounce my birthright and become a maabo? It was the month of Shaban, not long after the man from Maroc hit the clouds.
Continue reading "Hitting the Clouds"
Posted by sahelsteve at 10:49 AM
October 15, 2003
Demmbo Tamboura's new job
The man in the suit found Maabo Tamboura Demmbo sitting at the market by a pile of cola nuts. The maabo was dressed in a bright green robe, and was looking at his face in a small handheld mirror, rolling his wide eyes back and forth and moving the mirror to keep up.
"Salaam alekum," said the man in the suit. Peace be upon you.
"Alekum asalaam." And also upon you.
"Did you wake in peace?"
"Peace only."
"Do you own a drum?"
"Two."
"Only one is needed. I have a job for you."
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Posted by sahelsteve at 03:46 PM
August 05, 2003
The Lost Cow
Diallo Hamadou of Petegoli woke early to milk his cow, and then remembered that his cow was not there. The cow was eere sihnge, which is to say white with a red patch on the back of the neck. The previous morning, he had taken her out to the bush as usual, and left her by the baobab tree east of the town. She was used to grazing on her own during the day and coming back to the wuro in the afternoon. But yesterday she had not come back.
Hamadou went to the animal market and talked to the herders who were gathered to buy, sell and gossip.
"Have you seen my eere sihnge?" he asked each group.