Books Set In Africa Novels & Stories

I've never read any of them. It was only after he spoke that I realize he was behind me. I thought he was still sitting on the bed. I run my hands over the book, my eyes catching the titles, A fresh Start, For Mbatha and Rebecca, Agony in get voice, Felicia, The betrayal, for better for worse, Evbu my love... I pulled Evbu, my love out. It's actually my best pacesetter novel. I flipped through the pages and sniffed it.

she said to herself. The fourth book begins at chapter 1 in Paris. The End.

"That is bold coming from an unknown author. Now, can you tell me why African authors don't set their books in Africa." "That is a good question," Blackwheel raised his lips as he had done for the past three times. "There are a lot of reasons why African authors don't set their books in Africa," he paused and then continued, "one of the reasons why some African writers set their books in places that has nothing to do with Africa is the fear of rejection. They are afraid that their books won't get the kind of recognition and support they desire. Also, the innate fear that people are not interested in African books which is totally flaw has also affected their mindset badly. It has made them t

through the waves of time,and the influence by other cultures. This book,aims at capturing a set of activities through a narrative,where Enkanasa village represents the African roots,from where a young man leading an almost hopeless life,falls into great hands and becomes a great man not only to his village but to his community and country.It brings out the harsh life that some boys go through in a bid to secure their parents wealth,and to protect the community,as worriors.

Blood and Water is a story that points to a civil war in West Africa, Nigeria and the hovering hunger for survival by two teenage boys. Hope you enjoy. Completed version with no coins for now. Make sure you drop your reviews... *** Rumours of a War A proverb says that when it rains everyday, there is a bound of sorrow within the rain. Maybe we were not that rich but we were happy or we claimed to be. The only problem was that I was no longer in school. I think I liked it that way, school stress was so hard especially now that I was in the junior secondary.

She seems so happy after the last paper and I can see her sitting on op of Olive’s locker. I smile at her then go about cleaning my desk and selecting the books that I want to carry home with me for that one week.I pick a few African literature pieces:Things fall apart by Chinua Achebe and The River Between by Ngugi Thiong’o.I have started to really love literature classes especially when we started discussing different books.I also a few other books in my backpack and make a note to carry my diary with me.I hope I don’t forget that because it feels like a part of me,a week will be too long without it.

The entire hall smells of old books and bleach. Row after row of neatly lined books with their spines facing outward, colour-coded with dots, fiction section arranged in alphabetical order. She scanned slowly until her eyes met Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's "Half of a yellow sun". She took it out, and then went behind in search of a place to sit and devour the book.

We were at war. Just the thought of it was outrageous. While growing up in the Chicago area, I’d never even been in the vicinity of a gang rumble, let alone anything else. Now, after only a few months of leaving an area that ranked in the top twenty-five cities for crime in the USA and moving to what appeared to be a sleepy mountain hamlet wedged between small town USA and a city that was barely large enough to claim the title, not only was I at war, but I was at war with werewolves whose savageness was something the Chicago gangs couldn’t fathom. It was all too surreal.

Arya smiles. Steff is out. She doesn't like the idea of it anymore. She has other plans. I'm going to save her, Steff told herself. "Alright then." "You better do this right. You know what happens if ever this go wrong," Arya warned them. "You know everybody loves me because I'm an angel." Steff smirked. Not everybody loves you, she thought to herself. After their stupid meeting Steff went to the bathroom to smoke cigarette. This wasn't the senior highschool she was expecting of this school. This school has a devil disguised as an angel who wants to kill an innocent butterfly.

I wouldnt be getting boiling oil on my arms, unbearable lashes on my back or the horrific smacks and blows Ive had since I got here. Listen! You are not in any sort of dream and I do not have any intentions to set you free or kill you. At least not right now anyways. Based on the fact that you cant see, I want you to know that I once owned this continent. Ever heard of Africa? I dont expect you to answer that.”