All of us have dreams that we may be shy about sharing while attempting to fulfill them. The narrative in this book is my dream. The Shadow of the Sun, written by Polish jounalist, Ryszard Kapuscinski, is his first-person account of Africa. Starting in 1957, he traveled from nation to nation, often witnessing the horrors of genocide and starvation but other times enjoying the humorous moments and the friendship of the people. All he carried were the clothes on his back, a small knapsack, and a notebook. For months, all he did was interview and report.

"I traveled extensively, avoiding official routes, palaces, important personages, and high-level politics. Instead, I opted to hitch rides on passing trucks, wander with nomades through the desert, be the guest of peasants of the tropical savannah. Their life is endless toil, a torment they endure with astonishing patience and good humor." ( )

his book is part of a series of short books, Penguin Press Classic Journeys, which features excerpts from works of famous travelers, including Herodotus, Marco Polo, Olaudah Equiano and Anton Chekhov. The chapters from this book are largely taken from The Shadow of the Sun: My African Life. Kapuściński gives us an unforgettable description of what it's like to have malaria, and how awful of a disease it is. Other sections deal with a 1966 coup in Nigeria, a brief history of the rise to power of Idi Amin, and his encounter with a sleeping cobra that is lying underneath his bed. This book is an excellent introduction to Mr. Kapuściński's writings. ( )

Kapuscinski arrived in Africa in 1957, the first Polish journalist to be based there. He lives in the midst of the local people, catches malaria then, in his debilitated state, tuberculosis. He struggles with the fierce heat as he travels through sub-Sahara Africa, where a 120 km trip can take three days. He avoids the comfortable suburbs of the affluent foreign correspondents as he tries to experience the Africa that they never see. Kapuscinski's articles cover the wars in Rwanda and Eritrea, the coup d'etat in Nigeria and the disintegration of Liberia with the insight gained from forty years in Africa, seeking to understand.
A brilliant book. ( )

This book by Ryszard Kapuscinski is an incredible read .It is a book not so much about Africa,more about the people of Africa. There are pieces about how time is considered in a different way by the people there as they control it and are not controlled by it as we in the West are. There is an interesting description of a Coup d'Etat and a chapter about the monster Idi Amin,as well as several other equally interesting pieces. Above all this short book,gives the reader a terrific insight into the enigma that is Africa. ( )

Kapuscinski starts out as a complete newby, an ignorant stranger, when he arrives in Ghana in 1958. For me as a reader it felt like I could participate in all the experiences in the following decades that built up his knowledge of Africa and the Africans.
To a large extent this is due to his style, he can really evoke situations. He doesn’t mind spending two paragraphs on someone just sitting in the shadow. Why is he sitting there? What is he thinking? Where did he come from? Kapuscinski also tells you what he doesn’t know, what he wonders about, what he still can’t understand even if people explain.
But it’s not just style and composition. It’s also how he combines the impartial eye of the anthropologist with feelings of genuine friendship. His feelings are always present: between the lines, moderately, not disturbing his observations.
In the sixties a moderate optimism prevails. Ok, he reports about political violence in Zanzibar and Nigeria, but that’s nothing compared to later developments. For Kapuscinki himself there is a certain delight: it’s working out, he is actually getting to know the people that intrigued him so much. He even seems to like it when he gets malaria. Ok, it hurts, but at least now he knows what this African decease feels like. Moreover his fysical vulnerability seems to demolish the walls of racism: the Tanzanians around him start to trust this sickly white stranger.
From the seventies onwards things get nastier. Kapuscinski explains the machinery of tribal violence, warlords and bayaye: the rootless ex-villagers who now crowd the cities, without jobs, without possessions, just hanging around hungry.
The low point for me was his account of Liberia in the nineties, where one dictator succeeded the other. The events seemed to be propelled by a sort of mindless, random cruelty. Reading this I felt like the narrator, Kapuscinski, who keeps his feelings implicit, was for the first time really desillusioned and bitter.
The chapters afterwards seemed to try and soften the picture a bit, focussing on village life and religion. But the images of cynical warlords and hopeless child armies were humming in the background.
I do not often read about this kind of misery. I can only take it from a writer I trust, whose intelligence, commitment and taste make it somehow bearable. ( )