Teesta Review: A Journal of Poetry, Volume 2, Number 2. November 2019. ISSN: 2581-7094




Our Words, Our Worlds: Writing on Black South African Women Poets, 2000-2018,
 Edited by Makhosazana Xaba, University of Kwa-Zulu Natal Press, 2019.
ISBN: 9781-86914-412-8



This recently published and long-overdue volume provides an overview of the South African poetic landscape through black[1] South African women writers. The book is divided into three parts, namely Perspectives, Journeys and Conversations. The Perspectives section documents the publications of poetry books by Black South African Women Poets, navigating racism and sexism during Apartheid, exploring sexualities in today’s South Africa, as well as poetry in indigenous languages. In the Journeys section, the poets describe their life-long relationships with poetry: from the moment they fell in love words to their current relation to the art, and with writing as a whole. Furthermore, they discuss how they have encountered other women poets in their journey, and acknowledge the impact these poets have had on their views, experiences and writing. The final section, Conversations consists of interviews that cover the South African poetry scene, poetry on the radio, and experiences with writing poetry in languages other than English.  
   
I started with the Conversations section to engage with the current trends, challenges, experiences, and other important topics in-between. How fitting then that the Conversations section begins with the role poetry had in the reclamation and return of Sarah Baartman’s remains since, in many ways, this book is itself a declaration and reclamation of spaces that have been perceived as an exclusive male prerogative. Sarah Baartman was sold into slavery and her body was inhumanely displayed as a stark reminder of the traumatic struggles of black women, and the legacies that still exist today for African women, and for black women globally. Diana Ferrus’s poem I’ve Come To Take You Home was used by Nicolas About, a French politician, as a part of his attempt to persuade French Parliament “to return Sarah Baartman’s remains to South Africa” (244). The poem was later displayed and placed on her grave.

In Perspectives, the editor, Makhosazana Xaba tables the number of poetry collections written by black South African women from the year 2000 until 2018, and the publishers that printed them. This is also done in relation to the first, second and third wave feminism. It is particularly interesting to read how these poets navigated through racism and sexism, and how this reflects (or does not reflect) in their writing. The dominance of English is a hard-to-die colonial legacy, which is slowly changing with time: this topic is discussed later in this section as well as in the Conversations section.

The Reclaiming Sex and Queering the Word chapter within this section explores the presence of black women’s sexualities in poetry. This type of poetry has become more visible in post-apartheid, and celebrates black female bodies (including disabled bodies), removes or decentres the patriarchal gaze and ideal body types, and rebels against homophobia and hate crimes. I would have liked to have read more of this in the book, but I know that Xaba is no stranger to queer writing, having coedited the Queer Africa: New and Collected Fiction in 2013 and Queer Africa 2: New Stories in 2017.

What I found enjoyable about the Journeys section was how the poets inspire and influence each other. For example, the Feela Sista! Collective, started by Myesha Jenkins, Ntsiki Mazwai, Napo Masheane and Lebo Mashile helped to inspire poets such as Tereska Muishond (139) and Makgano Mamabolo (165).

Overall, the book is a pleasant read and is most definitely necessary in the archiving/preserving the history of South African poetry by black women. It also acknowledges the writing of black women prior to 2000, dedicating the book to Nontsizi Mgqwetho, the “vulandlela [2] for South African Black women poets”.

Furthermore, in light of this issue’s theme, destiny becomes less of an abstract idea that exists only in the mind. It becomes something tangible –able to be traced within this book. Across time, we are able to witness how the voices of Black South African Women poets have become more visible in poetry, and in literature as a whole.

The Call for Submissions for this issue of Teesta asked: “Can poetry – with its prophetic character – influence our individual and collective destiny?”. According to this book, the answer is a resounding YES!




[1] The definition of black in this book includes those who were previously classified as “Coloured” and “Indian” under the Apartheid regime.
[2]Road paver”.