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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Now. I walk down the hill of UN Drive towards my house in Mamba Point…
Our football team has won and we’re all celebrating at the Red Lion, under the…
This is what expats ask each other: “Where are you from?” “How long have you…
Africa
I COULD BARELY SEE IT. But, according to Samory, the tall, skinny building rising up…
FOR A WHILE NOW I HAVE TRIED TO FIND OUT MORE ABOUT AFRICAN LITERATURE, a…
Being born black can be very hard, and while there are quite a few nuances,…
Helene Cooper tells us that she had ancestors on the colonisation ships coming from the…
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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…
Did you know that the sea and air conditioning sound quite alike? When I am lying in my room wavering between the shades of dark and the air conditioning has finally stopped…
This novel also considers how most utopian dreams of liberation in the recently independent Africa…
The African Child is not strictly speaking a novel, but rather an autobiography of a…
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Did you know that the sea and air conditioning sound quite alike? When I am lying in my room wavering between the shades of dark and the air conditioning has finally stopped…
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…
