Found in Translation is a bimonthly column reviewing books translated to English in a variety of speculative shapes. Some traditional, some experimental, some told through cultural narratives that might seem peculiar if you’re not used to them, but all have the same unifying factor: there is always more out there.
Anthologies are known to be tricky. The plurality of authors, styles, lengths and themes in a single book, especially one without an unifying narrative theme, can often lead to readers saying they don’t usually enjoy the format for how uneven it can be—the polite but tough “it’s a mixed bag.” Luckily, No Edges: Swahili Stories (edited by Sarah Coolidge) is both solid and well-polished even though—or maybe because—it doesn’t try to uniform everything under a single cohesive theme, preferring to offer instead a showcase of great short stories and novel excerpts from Tanzania and Kenya, translated from Swahili and Sheng.
A young woman longs to convince her family and neighbors that her lover is real. She meets him every evening, in secret, more and more enamored, and each day she is doubted, accused of lying and inventing a man who does not exist. Fatma Shafii’s “The Guest” (translated by Hassan Kassim) is a perfect example of the short story format at its best, offering a captivating idea and using brevity in its favor. There is no moment where there should have been more or less, no feeling that feels misplaced, and the use of magic realism makes for a charming start.
Chausiku and Sikuzani are inseparable. The two teenage girls are friends in and out of school, and despite the warnings of their mothers, they love some mischief. One day, after joining a group of kids that turn out to be spirits, Chausiku vanishes and appears in a witch town. Lusajo Mwaikenda Israel’s “A Neighbour’s Pot” (translated by Richard Prins) is a fun story that follows the best of oral storytelling and fairytales, complete with a mischievous wink at the end.
Young Timo works to help support his family. Despite following the titular Timo and the people around him, including his parents and younger brother, Mwas Mahugu’s “Timo and Kayole’s Chaos” (translated by Idza Luhumyo) feels like a travel guide through the neighborhood of Kayole, in Nairobi, in which Timo works as a peanut hawker. As an urban journey, it’s immersive in the way it explores different bits of the region, from the way children play, to the market, the school life, the matatus driving around, the violence. The story sometimes suffers from lack of focus, feeling more like a script when characters interact, but it’s an enjoyable read nonetheless.
Tired of reality, “Nakuruto” (translated by Enock Matundura) starts exploring her dreamworld until she loses control. This excerpt by Clara Momanyi works as a standalone in a way that shares a core with Liliana Colanzi’s “The Cave” despite being set in a completely different part of the world. What begins as a mundane individual feeling takes grandiose proportions as Nakuruto is taken hold by the force of nature of the dream sphere, going through prehistoric caves, expanding time and space and, at the end, being mentally and physically changed by the experience of moving through history.
Problems brew in a bus heading toward Dar es Salaam. Nela is rude and careless to an older woman, a fact that turns other passengers against her. Then, an unfortunate physiological accident leaves her defenseless to the judgment of strangers—and to their kindness. Fadhy Mtanga’s “Attitudes” (translated by Jay Boss Rubin) had everything to go wrong. Other writers could have transformed what happens to Nela a horror show, preferring scatology over a meaningful social interaction, or have turned a health issue into a degrading punishment for her personality, but luckily Mtanga prefers to focus on the different behavior human beings have in situations of conflict, treating a moment of physical vulnerability with incredible gentleness.
In a dystopic future, courts don’t allow any defense to someone accused of a crime. We never fully understand what Dzombo is being accused of—rumor has it that he talked too much—but his sentence is clear: death by Sayari. The vessel could have been used to advance space exploration, but is, instead, a vehicle that leads prisoners to their deaths. The only “right” given to Dzombo is a short time to learn how to pilot it, and so he does, hoping to get away. Katama G.C. Mkangi’s “Walenisi” (translated by Richard Prins) is a novel excerpt and the only sci-fi of the bunch, and it hints at larger worldbuilding, but the focus on the misuse of a wonderful technology and the injustice of the legal system make for a meaningful short story.
A family meets after a man’s passing, and once pleasant relatives turn against the grieving wife and children. Engrossing and descriptive, Lilian Mbaga’s “Selfishness” (translated by Uta Reuster-Jahn) takes you to a crowded house you can visualize immediately, and to the protagonist’s suffocating state of confusion as her in-laws become other people, demanding that she gives them the key to the bedroom she shared with her husband until a few hours ago. Definitely the grimmest story of the anthology.
Dancers erupt from the ashes and engage in metaphysical discussions with the drummers who summoned them. A boy stands by his grandfather’s deathbed, listening as he urges him to look for the elusive Nagona when he’s gone. “Nagona” (translated by Duncan Ian Tarrant), an excerpt by the late Tanzanian author Euphrase Kezilahab, has a clear narrative arc on its own, but opens space for curiosity with its seemingly prophetic dreams and mystical advises, and keeps a very universal core: death is a part of life, and sometimes we lose those we love.
When searching for translations, it’s very hard to ignore the gap between continents and cultures—colonial languages are much easier to find, and there is a bigger variety of European presence even in languages that are not so easily found outside their original countries—and I only discovered this anthology because I actively searched for African speculative fiction. Swahili, spoken by millions as a primary or secondary language, and a lingua franca in East Africa, has few translations available in English, but No Edges is one of the many proofs that it’s not for an absence of stories. And, after reading it, I felt myself longing for a publisher to pick up and translate the full novels from which the excerpts found in this anthology were taken: they’re definitely deserving of it.
No Edges: Swahili Stories features work by Fatma Shafii, Lusajo Mwaikenda Israel, Mwas Mahugu, Clara Momanyi, Fadhy Mtanga, Katama G.C. Mkangi, Lilian Mbaga and Euphrase Kezilahab. The anthology, edited by Sarah Coolidge, was originally published in Tanzania & Kenya (Swahili) in 2023, and was translated to English by by Hassan Kassim, Richard Prins, Idza Luhumyo, Enock Matundura, Jay Boss Rubin, Uta Reuster-Jahn and Duncan Ian Tarrant (Two Lines Press).
Buy the Book
No Edges: Swahili Stories
