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Thursday, July 25, 2024
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The home of literary values: Timbooktoo

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By Baboucarr EA Busso

Timbooktoo is a healthy place for knowledge where different writers display their best artistic processes. As a toddler, I popped in there and remembered that one book has ever won my admiration from those days and guess who the author is: a Gambian…

You still wonder who the author is, and I will still wonder that you are still wondering who the author must be…Yes, it was not a coincidence but destiny that the same author will promote my art of writing. I love you brother…You may still wonder who this author is…

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…And in your wonder, I am also wondering why you are still wondering who this author must be. It is a conspiracy of wonders perhaps. Yes, you can wonder, but I will always wonder why you wonder.

In wandering, I always wonder why you are wondering.  Like Sannu is disappointed that it is not Ngugi. And more doubly disappointed that it is not Achebe too.

And may be, my brother, Mr Bah “Afro” also wonders that I may mention, Wole Soyinka. But I know that he is disappointed that as wise as he is with a sophisticated knowledge of grammar, that the word I used was “Gambian”. But my doubt is, why is he still wondering?

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Sorry if you were so much bothered; I was typing in pain and never wondered, but you were wondering who the author is. A brilliant author; he is so gallant in display of words. But if you are still wondering, you could have ended your wonder in a simple question. Maybe, “what is the name of the book I bought?” Titles may always suggest the author of the text, but I understand why you are still wandering. You are wondering because titles may not also suggest the author equally.

Let me give you a simple proposition: “Some people were killed in a land because they were too bad. But, some people evidently, as historical facts of murder carried it, they were killed in the same land because they were too good.” If this proposition helps, titles may or may not suggest the author of the text. But, the writing (Literature) should never fail this test.

This is why you may not wonder, but this is the same reason for which I owe gratitude to this humble man, Musa Bah, The Scribbler; now, The Watchman, after reading Bechek back in those days, I vowed to read. The midnight calls.

Worrying but unsurprisingly, the title of the text purchased was: “The midnight call.”

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