I’m Carlos Battaglini and I left everything to become a writer. Here you will find posts about my curious life in Liberia and other African countries. It is also where I immerse myself in the burning light of African literature through brutally honest book reviews. Welcome to your home and thanks for joining me on this adventure.
I left everything to become a writer, join me on this adventure.
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“I have typhus, not today.” “Cool, come and watch the match then.” The first message…
ONE DAY MORE In LIBERIA (ONE DAY LESS…) I am exhausted as I start to…
Ingrid still had not recovered and she was lying down, her body paralysed into a…
Africa
The word Party encapsulates the meaning of the universe. The idea of a party offers…
The granite tiles at the Zaventem airport in Brussels are a stranger colour every time…
Cooper goes on to express her appreciation for the support and assistance received. Referring to…
Going back to Helene Cooper’s life, it became considerably more complicated when the Liberian civil…
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I can’t help it. I am reading an interesting novel about a violinist who loses his talent out of the blue, but I cannot help it. Pages fourteen and fifteen have been…
MONIQUE, THE WOMAN WHO HATED (AND LOVED) GUINEA CONAKRY, had allowed another truce with this country on disclosing to me, “if you go to Conakry, go to the islands: an authentic oasis”.…
Despite a number of negative consequences, Powers also discovers that these same development projects are…
Being born black can be very hard, and while there are quite a few nuances,…
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ON THE OUTSKIRTS OF MONROVIA, LIBERIA. IN THE MIDDLE OF DEPRIVATION AND AN IMMORTAL ENERGY, we get out the Toyotas Prado and make our way to a crumbling school that was hosting…
I AM WRITING FROM ACCRA, GHANA, AND I CAN SCARCELY BELIEVE THAT I AM FINALLY HERE. I am writing with bloodshot eyes, with several days’ stubble and pronounced bags under my eyes,…
