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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This is what expats ask each other: “Where are you from?” “How long have you…
WE LEAVE GBARNGA BEHIND. It hits us that this time we are going for good…
Our football team has won and we’re all celebrating at the Red Lion, under the…
Africa
The meeting will begin at eight o’clock in the morning. That’s what the green paper…
FEAR IN BLACK AND WHITE. Some people have started leaving the bar, forming a scary,…
Helene Cooper tells us that she had ancestors on the colonisation ships coming from the…
Nonetheless, there are also a series of characters that are respectably accomplished. This is the…
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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…
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…
Nonetheless, there are also a series of characters that are respectably accomplished. This is the…
The African Child is not strictly speaking a novel, but rather an autobiography of a…
Don’t miss
HE SPEAKS CALMLY, KEEPING THE SAME TONE OF VOICE THROUGHOUT. He moves his hands slowly, only half looking at you, steadily interrupting your rushed arguments and shakes his head a couple of…
RUN. RUN. When we ran in Monrovia in among the shacks, trampling the earth and the sand, dodging dilapidated huts, I would brush against the zinc ceilings that were caving in. Sometimes…
