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.
Latest posts
SOMETIMES IT HAPPENS. You are walking in the middle of a Liberian road, heading in some direction and a question falls on your head in the form of a guillotine and covered in scales that must be silver with grey stains. A little blurry. Why the calm? Was I like a desert? Why the tranquility?…
AT FIRST I THOUGHT THAT THE BODY THAT LAY THERE MUST BE THAT WOMAN WHO LOVES THE GENERATOR. That woman who usually spends the whole day stuck to the powerful diesel engine that spurts out burnt smoke into her face. And warmth into her soul. Warmth. That woman who almost always ends up fast asleep…
Despite a number of negative consequences, Powers also discovers that these same development projects are sometimes capable of providing real help and happiness to local communities. William discovers this by delving deeper into Liberian society, which in turn will allow him to discover various fundamental patterns of this culture such as the importance of the…
Nonetheless, there are also a series of characters that are respectably accomplished. This is the case of Blaine, Ifem’s smart boyfriend, through whom we sharply assess his drivel and pedantry for an excruciating level of perfection. The character of Ifem’s aunt and her corrupt partner are also adequately developed, as is the teenage presence of…
Heart of Darkness narrates the story of a sailor named Marlow, who one day decides to join a naval company that takes him from London to Africa. There he discovers how exotic the African continent is. The narrator refers to it as ‘the darkness’ – the obscure, the indefinable. It is not long before Marlow…
VICTOR, ANESA AND I TAKE UP THE CENTRE OF THE ROOM AT BLACK AND WHITE FORMING A TRIANGLE. We start dancing with energy. Here, in Buchanan, in Black and White you have to crouch to dance, almost kneel down and kiss the floor. Take a look. This guy in green, without bones he crouches so…
Murder in the Cassava Patch is a very good african literature work, and tells the story of a toxic relationship that ends in murder. Gortokai, the main character, is madly in love with Tene, a coquettish woman who likes to string along several men at the same time. Kai (short for Gortokai) is not at all aware…
FEAR IN BLACK AND WHITE. Some people have started leaving the bar, forming a scary, irregular line. “This bar is mine and I want to tell you loud and clear that over there by the bar, there are some guys who have bought their drinks outside and brought them in here. This bar is for…
It’s the brakes. A steel voice informs me that something is wrong with the brake fluid. My car is not up to it, or perhaps it’s just melancholic. And since then, I walk. Now I am a white guy whose soles tread upon the tarmac of Mamba Point and who’s covered in sweat by the…
This novel also considers how most utopian dreams of liberation in the recently independent Africa of the 1960s came crumbling down. Like many other revolutionary dreams, they wound up in nothing, including the revolutions lead by Fidel Castro and Mao Tse-Tung: a void left behind by new purportedly socialist parties, only adding to the disappointment.…
Latests posts
“BECAUSE IF NOT, I’LL DIE”. Sitting at a round, plastic table. We drink some Club Beers. Our pupils dilate and take on the form of small sugared ovals. That go up and down. Kevin comes closer to us and tells us, “Because if not, you die… So this weekend I went to Buchanan. You have…
Read more
WHY AM I SAYING ON EDGE IF EVERYTHING IS CALM IN LIBERIA? IS EVERYTHING CALM IN LIBERIA? Ladies and gentlemen: the moment of truth has arrived. We find ourselves in the decisive final round, the moment many Liberians have been anxiously waiting for: the presidential elections. Everyone has been summoned, to decide the future of…
Read more
I run. I run next to a European girl and a Liberian. I keep up because I usually go jogging a few times a week around UN Drive. The Liberian guy also takes great strides and sets a good pace. We don’t know where to go. Does it matter? Yes, it must matter. I am…
Read more
Now. I walk down the hill of UN Drive towards my house in Mamba Point and I see her. It’s as if the Liberians who are randomly walking around on the street move to one side to let her go by. It’s like the Moses effect, when he parted the sea. She is like a…
Read more
THE GATES WERE CLOSING AT THE POLLING STATION SET UP AT WATERSIDE, BUT WE MANAGED TO SKILFULLY FIND OUR WAY IN. It was still light, but the sun was gently setting in Liberia. We took a few steps and came across two tables either side of a dirt track. The plastic urns, escorted by many…
Read more
There is someone in the kitchen. It’s a young man of medium height. His name is Anthony and he moves stealthily. As if he were wearing socks instead of shoes. Anthony opens the pantry, takes out some fruit and brings it all out to Josep and I at the table. We have breakfast looking out…
Read more
This is what expats ask each other: “Where are you from?” “How long have you been in Liberia for?” “How long will be you be staying in Liberia?” “What organisation do you work for?” “Where were you before?” They are the classics. The typical questions you will get asked, time and time again, especially by…
Read more
BUT LOOK WHO’S THERE. As I walk into the Red Lion I spot Ramon sitting opposite a German donning a dirty and scraggy beard. Only a tiny table separates them, and they are there, forehead to forehead, as if they were playing a decisive chess game – the round of chess that will save the…
Read more
These are the hardest days. Those days when you sit in front of the computer and you don’t know what to write about. You can see it, too. A blank, white screen boasting only a title, that only says “test”. Not a single word more. I swear I have tried. I’ve gone back over the…
Read more
Things Fall Apart is a novel that narrates the story of Okonkwo, an Igbo farmer and warrior who settled in the fictitious village of Umuofia (Nigeria) at some point between 1860 and 1890 (during the pre-colonial era and emergence of colonialism). Okonkwo is scarred by the negative image that he has of his own father:…
Read moreAfrica
I DON’T REMEMBER VERY WELL WHERE I WAS COMING FROM, but walking on UN Drive I came upon a deserted island on my right. Now I remember. I was coming from Miami Beach where I had stupidly gone at the…
He always starts talking at about quarter past or half past seven in the middle of UN Drive. Actually, he doesn’t talk, but rather screams, shouts, and quite often sings. I listen to him. I see him. I see him…
The granite tiles at the Zaventem airport in Brussels are a stranger colour every time I see them. The marble I slowly discover increasingly adopts an expression that I cannot decipher. I walk past the gates and then more gates,…
Africa
ON BRINGING MY HEAD ABOVE THE SURFACE, I DISCOVERED A GIRL WITH DREADLOCKS (the rasta style triumphed on Room Island), a girl in Bob Marley colours, green, yellow, red who slowly sat beside the boy who was snoozing before my…
SAMUEL IS THE BOSS. That’s what I realise on the next day from the way they all stare at him when he greets me. One’s eyes can reveal a leader’s terrain. Samuel apologises for not having been able to accompany…
Despite a number of negative consequences, Powers also discovers that these same development projects are sometimes capable of providing real help and happiness to local…
Doe’s government had never been stable and had always run the risk of being overthrown at any time, until the point that there was an…
Don’t miss
FOR A WHILE NOW I HAVE TRIED TO FIND OUT MORE ABOUT AFRICAN LITERATURE, a far from simple exploration for a European dominated by the…
THE FOOD TAKES A WHILE TO COME. The food sometimes takes a while to come in Liberia. So instead of having lunch, we keep making…
Blue Clay People tells the story of William Powers, a North American aid worker in Liberia back in 1999. Powers lands in the African country…
The House at Sugar Beach is an autobiographical novel (it may also be considered quite simply a novel) written by the journalist and diplomatic correspondent…
Don’t miss
I SLEEP IN GBENEQUELLEH IN A TINY ROOM with no mosquito net, hoping malaria in Liberia doesn’t recognise me. Deep into the night, an overwhelming silence…
I GENTLY WALK INTO THE MINISTRY OF LAND, MINES AND ENERGY in Liberia, but nobody sees me. They are all there, but nobody sees me. They…
