Tsitsi Dangarembga

The Book of Not is the second book in Tsitsi Dangarembga’s Nervous Conditions trilogy. The storyline continues protagonist Tambudzai “Tambu” Sigauke’s life story. Set in colonial Rhodesia, Tambu is attending the Young Ladies College of the Sacred Heart, an elite, predominantly white missionary boarding school, where the promise of education is undermined by systemic racism. It is set in the 1970s during the Zimbabwean War of Liberation, which sought to end white minority rule in show more Rhodesia, and eventually led to Zimbabwe's independence in 1980. Dangarembga weaves this historical context into Tambu's personal narrative.

The tone of this book is less optimistic than its predecessor. It follows Tambu’s educational experiences, which include multiple disappointments, bullying and harassment, and an increasing sense of invisibility. Tambu is motivated to excel but finds it difficult, if not impossible, to obtain the recognition she desires (and deserves). The novel reveals how the educational system is designed to reinforce colonial hierarchies, despite its ostensible integration. It then follows Tambu into the workplace, where her boss takes credit for her work.

It is told in first person from Tambu’s perspective, which allows intimate access to her thoughts and feelings. As indicated in the title, Tambu is defined more by what she is not than by what she is, but she demonstrates remarkable inner strength. It is a difficult book to “enjoy” due to its focus on self-negation, but it exposes the myth of meritocracy and the deep psychological damage that often results. It challenges readers to confront uncomfortable truths about how systems of oppression function and the devastating impact they can have on individual identity and self-worth, which remains relevant in today’s world. I recommend reading these books in sequential order and look forward to the final book in the trilogy, This Mournable Body. show less

The tensions arising between traditional ways of life and opportunities that European interventions offer to native Africans willing to accept them reside at the heart of Tsitsi Dangarembga’s incisive and poignant novel, Nervous Conditions. In 1960s Rhodesia (soon to become independent Zimbabwe), Tambudzai (Tambu) Sigauke lives with her parents and siblings on the family homestead, in a rural village 20 miles from the town of Umtali. The homestead is squalid and life is hard, facts she can show more accept because it is all she knows. But Tambu is smart. Limited time at the local school has demonstrated that she possesses a quick and searching intelligence. She yearns to expand her horizons. What’s holding her back (other than her family’s poverty) is her gender. As a girl, her route through life is set in stone: inevitably she’ll become someone’s wife and have children. But opportunity for a different kind of life does exist: her brother Nhamo is attending the residential mission school in Umtali, where his fees are being covered by their well-off British-educated uncle Babamukuru. The family expects that once Nhamo’s education is complete, he will find gainful employment and provide them with economic security. Back on the homestead Tambu is consumed with envy. Taken out of school to help on the farm because of Nhamo’s absence, she has no choice but to accept her fate. But when Nhamo dies suddenly, the tragedy forces a decision on the grieving Sigauke family, and despite her mother’s objections Tambu takes her brother’s place at the mission school. Tambu, who cannot afford to be sentimental, can hardly believe her luck. Over the next two years, in an atmosphere where the pursuit of excellence is encouraged, she rises to the top of her class, exceeding her own and her uncle’s expectations. But Tambu discovers that success in the English-speaking white man’s world does not come without a cost. As her academic triumphs push her further and further from her family, her language, and the world she came from, she’s left feeling that she’s betrayed everyone and wondering what she’s gotten herself into. Dangarembga’s semi-autobiographical fiction, first published in 1988, has been followed by two sequels, The Book of Not (2006), and This Mournable Body (shortlisted for the Booker Prize in 2020) which bring Tambu’s story into the present day. Tambu Sigauke, an exceptionally self-aware protagonist, knows her own mind and is unapologetic when it comes to pursuing her hopes and dreams. But by the novel’s end she is deeply conflicted, immersed in a goal-oriented European lifestyle, culturally unmoored, ashamed of her humble origins and suffering guilt because of this shame. Despite her successes she is blindsided when the realization hits her that, as a black African living in the white man’s world, she has no idea where she belongs. Written with candour and wrenching honesty, Nervous Conditions provides a powerful commentary on colonialism’s painful legacy from an insider’s perspective and leaves an indelible impression on the reader. show less

Tambu is eleven or twelve when she sees her sister's leg blown off by a land mine. The war for Independence in Southern Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe) is well underway, and Tambu is stuck between her family, living in a rural area and supporting the guerrillas, and her life at the Young Ladies' College of the Sacred Heart, where she is a scholarship student, there because of help from her uncle. The school graciously allows one Black student per year, and has the six of them live in a room designed show more for four students and with an inadequate bathroom. Tambu is determined to excel, to win the prize for best student, but a nice ladies' college in Rhodesia is not going to let that happen and, when she wants to study science subjects, she is not allowed to attend the upper level classes at a nearby school. So where does Tambu put her anger and unhappiness as she strives to succeed in a system designed for her failure?

Middle books in trilogies are often the weak link. Nervous Conditions, where Tambu's story begins, was a revelation, introducing the reader to a girl who wasn't always nice or good, but was so hopeful and determined. And the final book was nominated for the Booker Prize. I was expecting to read this book in order to get to the next one, but I was astonished by how good it was. Tambu here lives through her teenage years, believing what she is told by the teachers at the school, determined to be the top student, working to exhibit unhu, that is, working to do everything to make things better for everyone. She spends her time studying and memorizing and never allows herself to just relax and have friends. It's a terrible way to live and one that is futile in a time and place where she will never be allowed success or acknowledgement. As Tambu's strives and works hard to continue to believe that she can succeed a war rages in the background, a war where her presence at a white ladies' college puts her on a different side from her own family. There's so much nuance and much is unspoken in this quietly powerful novel. show less

I was not sorry when my brother died. Nor am I apologising for my callousness, as you may define it, my lack of feeling.

Thus begins this coming of age novel of Tambu, a young Zimbabwean girl straddling the divides between men and women, white and black, uneducated and educated, rural and urban, European and African. From the first sentences, Tambu is presented as a strong person relating her story to an other that may not understand her. She makes no excuses and, although she is sharing her show more experiences, she does not feel a need to justify herself or her decisions. Her voice is quite unique.

Even as children, Tambu's older brother had assumed the role of a traditional, conservative male, feeling an innate superiority to his female siblings. This arrogance was reinforced when their Western-educated uncle chooses him to be educated at the missionary school where he is the headmaster. Tambu chafes at her brother's good fortune, for she is equally intelligent and ambitious. It is only after her brother dies, that her uncle takes her in to be educated.

Life in her uncle's house is revelatory. Indoor plumbing, kitchen appliances, and other accoutrements of a wealthy, Western-influenced home impress Tambu. She doesn't at first understand that her well-educated aunt is as entrapped by her womanhood as her poverty-stricken mother, or the reasons for her cousin Nyasha's rebellion. Slowly Tambu must grapple with the grey choices of escape from poverty by assimilating or remaining true to her village roots at the cost of her ambitions.

[Nervous Conditions] is the first in a trilogy of novels about Tambu. Although this first novel deals with issues of feminism and colonialism, it comes to no conclusions. In fact, that is part of what Tambu learns in this book: that the world is not clear-cut and that ambiguity clouds our choices. Although not as strongly written as [A Girl is a Body of Water] or [Woman at Point Zero], I enjoyed being immersed in Tambu's world and will look for the next book in the trilogy. show less