The history ceases to be predictable-and dull." From the author of "The Shortest History of Europe," acclaimed historian John Hirst, comes this fresh and stimulating approach to understanding Australia's past and present. Hirst asks and answers questions that get to the heart of Australia's history: Why did Aborigines not become farmers? How did a penal colony change peacefully to a democracy? Why was Australia so prosperous so early? Why did the Australian colonies federate? What effect did convict origins have on national character? Why was the postwar migration programme a success? Why is Australia not a republic?

    Livingstone's body, his papers and maps, fifteen hundred miles across the continent of Africa, so his remains could be returned home to England and his work preserved there. Narrated by Halima, the doctor's sharp-tongued cook, and Jacob Wainwright, a rigidly pious freed slave, this is a story that encompasses all of the hypocrisy of slavery and colonization—the hypocrisy at the core of the human heart—while celebrating resilience, loyalty, and love.

    Did you know that Jews originated from black African tribes? Did you know that Jesus and the people of the Bible were black people? Did you know that the names of authors of the Old Testament are African tribal names? Did you know that modern Jews still carry tribal names. Did you know that the word Israel is an African word? These are some of the ancient secrets this book reveals to readers.

    This world came to him as a chaos of loud and colorful sounds: the hair dryers at his mother's beauty parlor, black mamba bicycle bells, mechanics in Nairobi, the music of Michael Jackson—all punctuated by the infectious laughter of his brother and sister, Jimmy and Ciru. He could fall in with their patterns, but it would take him a while to carve out his own.In this vivid and compelling debut memoir, Wainaina takes us through his school days, his mother's religious period, his failed attempt to study in South Africa as a computer programmer, a moving family reunion in Uganda, and his travels around Kenya. The landscape in front of him always claims his main attention, but he also evokes the shifting political scene that unsettles his views on family, tribe, and nationhood.Throughout, reading is his refuge and his solace. And when, in 2002, a writing prize comes through, the door is opened for him to pursue the career that perhaps had been beckoning all along. A series of fascinating international reporting assignments follow. Finally he circles back to a Kenya in the throes of postelection violence and finds he is not the only one questioning the old certainties.Resolutely avoiding stereotype and cliché, Wainaina paints every scene in One Day I Will Write About This Place with a highly distinctive and hugely memorable brush.

    As Sarah Erdman enters the social fold of the village as a Peace Corps volunteer, she finds that Nambonkaha is also a place where AIDS threatens and poverty is constant, where women suffer the indignities of patriarchal customs, and where children work like adults while still managing to dream. Lyrical and topical, Erdman's beautiful debut captures the astonishing spirit of an unforgettable community.

    Yet a number of key questions about this tragedy remain unanswered: How did the violence spread from community to community and so rapidly engulf the nation? Why did individuals make decisions that led them to take up machetes against their neighbors? And what was the logic that drove the campaign of extermination?According to Scott Straus, a social scientist and former journalist in East Africa for several years (who received a Pulitzer Prize nomination for his reporting for the Houston Chronicle), many of the widely held beliefs about the causes and course of genocide in Rwanda are incomplete. They focus largely on the actions of the ruling elite or the inaction of the international community. Considerably less is known about how and why elite decisions became widespread exterminatory violence.Challenging the prevailing wisdom, Straus provides substantial new evidence about local patterns of violence, using original research--including the most comprehensive surveys yet undertaken among convicted perpetrators--to assess competing theories about the causes and dynamics of the genocide. Current interpretations stress three main causes for the genocide: ethnic identity, ideology, and mass-media indoctrination (in particular the influence of hate radio). Straus's research does not deny the importance of ethnicity, but he finds that it operated more as a background condition. Instead, Straus emphasizes fear and intra-ethnic intimidation as the primary drivers of the violence. A defensive civil war and the assassination of a president created a feeling of acute insecurity. Rwanda's unusually effective state was also central, as was the country's geography and population density, which limited the number of exit options for both victims and perpetrators.In conclusion, Straus steps back from the particulars of the Rwandan genocide to offer a new, dynamic model for understanding other instances of genocide in recent history--the Holocaust, Armenia, Cambodia, the Balkans--and assessing the future likelihood of such events.

    Along with his older brother he finds himself thrown into a truck when the soldiers leave, to be shaped into an agent of horror – a child soldier. Marched through minefields and forced into battle, enduring a brutal daily existence, Obinna slowly works out which parts of himself to save and which to sacrifice in this world turned upside down. Beneath the Darkening Sky is a terrifyingly powerful, brilliantly insightful portrait of how a human being copes when forced to become inhuman. Like all great fiction, it imagines the unimaginable, and announces the arrival of a searing new voice from the heart of Africa.

    As pioneering settlers, they built a house of grass, ate off a damask cloth spread over packing cases, and discovered—the hard way—the world of the African. With an extraordinary gift for detail and a keen sense of humor, Huxley recalls her childhood on the small farm at a time when Europeans waged their fortunes on a land that was as harsh as it was beautiful. For a young girl, it was a time of adventure and freedom, and Huxley paints an unforgettable portrait of growing up among the Masai and Kikuyu people, discovering both the beauty and the terrors of the jungle, and enduring the rugged realities of the pioneer life.

    A skirmish in a world-famous restaurant leaves two men dead and the restaurant staff baffled. Why did the head waiter, a man who’s been living in France for many years, lunge at his patrons with a knife?As the man awaits trial, a journalist hounds his long-time friend, hoping to expose the true story behind this unprecedented act of violence.Gradually, the extraordinary story of Pitso Motaung, a young South African who volunteered to serve with the Allies in the First World War, emerges. Through a tragic twist of fate, Pitso found himself on board the ss Mendi, a ship that sank off the Isle of Wight in February 1917. More than six hundred of his countrymen, mostly black soldiers, lost their lives in a catastrophe that official history largely forgot. One particularly cruel moment from that day will remain etched in Pitso’s mind, resurfacing decades later to devastating effect.Dancing the Death Drill recounts the life of Pitso Motaung. It is a personal and political tale that spans continents and generations, moving from the battlefields of the Boer War to the front lines in France and beyond. With a captivating blend of pathos and humour, Fred Khumalo brings to life a historical event, honouring both those who perished in the disaster and those who survived.

    Here you'll find a number of places to eat and drink. Settle yourself in the window of one, shut your eyes, and picture this scene of yore ..." In this much-loved book, Robyn Annear resurrects the village that was early Melbourne - from the arrival of white settlers in 1835 until the first gold rushes shook the town - and brings it to life in vivid colour. Bearbrass was one of the local names by which Melbourne was known and Annear provides a fascinating living portrait of the streetlife of this town. In a lively and engaging style, she overlays her reinvention of Bearbrass with her own impressions and experiences of the modern city, enabling Melburnians and visitors to imagine the early township and remind themselves of the rich history that lies beneath today's modern metropolis. The original "Bearbrass" won the A.A. Phillips Award for Australian Studies in the 1995 Victorian Premier's Literary Awards. ..". [Annear] writes with an historian's eye for detail and a flair for ironic observation. An affectionate journey, rich in detail and character." - "The Age" Robyn Annear is an ex-typist who lives in country Victoria with somebody else's husband. She is the author of "A City Lost and Found, Bearbrass, Nothing But Gold, The Man Who Lost Himself," and "Fly a Rebel Flag." She has also written several pieces for "The Monthly" magazine.

    It all began one horrific night in 1993, when Arab raiders swept through her Nuba village, murdering the adults and rounding up thirty-one children, including Mende. Mende was sold to a wealthy Arab family who lived in Sudan's capital city, Khartoum. So began her dark years of enslavement. Her Arab owners called her "Yebit," or "black slave." She called them "master." She was subjected to appalling physical, sexual, and mental abuse. She slept in a shed and ate the family leftovers like a dog. She had no rights, no freedom, and no life of her own. Normally, Mende's story never would have come to light. But seven years after she was seized and sold into slavery, she was sent to work for another master—a diplomat working in the United Kingdom. In London, she managed to make contact with other Sudanese, who took pity on her. In September 2000, she made a dramatic break for freedom.Slave is a story almost beyond belief. It depicts the strength and dignity of the Nuba tribe. It recounts the savage way in which the Nuba and their ancient culture are being destroyed by a secret modern-day trade in slaves. Most of all, it is a remarkable testimony to one young woman's unbreakable spirit and tremendous courage.

    Without a doubt Habila is one of the best." —Emmanuel DongalaIn the oil-rich and environmentally devastated Nigerian Delta, the wife of a British oil executive has been kidnapped. Two journalists-a young upstart, Rufus, and a once-great, now disillusioned veteran, Zaq-are sent to find her. In a story rich with atmosphere and taut with suspense, Oil on Water explores the conflict between idealism and cynical disillusionment in a journey full of danger and unintended consequences.As Rufus and Zaq navigate polluted rivers flanked by exploded and dormant oil wells, in search of "the white woman," they must contend with the brutality of both government soldiers and militants. Assailed by irresolvable versions of the "truth" about the woman's disappearance, dependent on the kindness of strangers of unknowable loyalties, their journalistic objectivity will prove unsustainable, but other values might yet salvage their human dignity.

    One new novel that can justly make that claim is The Catastrophist, by the talented Irish writer/activist Ronan Bennett. Here, Conrad's classic tale is transmogrified by a century of irony, Westernization, and a tip of the hat to Graham Greene and John le Carré. Benett's Marlow is James Gillespie, an Irish historian turned novelist who travels to the Congo in 1959. Set against the death throes of the age of imperialism, the new nation's violent struggle for independence from Belgium provides ample opportunity for Gillespie to explore the dark territory of political and emotional engagement.Gillespie's Kurtz, the figure who draws him to the Congo and whose maddening attachment to the place both fascinates and repulses him, is Inès, a fiery Italian journalist, who pens fiercely pro-Congolese articles for a radical newspaper. Inès and Gillespie met in London at the house of Gillespie's publisher, and soon after, were heading to Ireland for a romantic getaway. Inès was smitten instantly ("I am already loving you" she whispers as they first make love), but Gillespie, considerably less headstrong, was slower to recognize his feelings. Following Inès to Léopoldville (Kinshasa), the Congolese capital, was his emotional plunge, his gesture toward commitment. But soon after his arrival, Gillespie realizes that he has been displaced from Inès's attentions by her devotion to Patrice Lumumba, the charismatic Congolese independence leader. Gillespie, on the other hand, is incapable of viewing the disorganized independence movement as anything more than an unfortunate farce; nor does he sympathize with the Belgians in Léopoldville, who live in cloistered luxury, walled off from the cité indigène -- "where the blacks live" -- by well-patrolled walls and their own willful obliviousness.Despairing over Inès's increasingly distant air, Gillespie befriends an American named Stipe, who is in the Congo to promote American security interests, as well as Stipe's loyal, ambitious driver, Auguste. Stipe feeds Gillespie information about the imminence of an uprising, allowing him to complete some lucrative freelance pieces, while Auguste shares his dreams about having an office on Fifth Avenue.These bonds prove fragile, however, and dissolve once the independence movement comes to a violent, chaotic boil. Inès's partisanship becomes even more pronounced, and she spends all her time at Lumumba's camp. Gillespie's articles alienate him from many of the Belgians, who refuse to consider the Congolese other than as mischievous children. Stipe and his Belgian companions, meanwhile, become fearful of Lumumba's Communist sympathies and begin unsavory efforts to undermine his authority, supporting the right-wing party of the pro-Western Mobutu Sese Seko instead. Auguste, who has become active in Lumumba's youth movement, dissociates himself from Stipe; entering into Lumumba's inner circle, he soon meets Inès. Inès and Auguste become lovers and Gillespie, after countless efforts to win her back, is forced to contemplate a world breaking up around him.The Catastrophist is primarily a story of failure, both of a crumbling political movement and of a doomed relationship. (There is little surprise about the former, even for those unfamiliar with Congolese history; in the opening scene of the book, Lumumba is captured by Mobutu after attempting to escape the country). Inès once charged Gillespie with being a "catastrophist," one who believes "it is always the end." He countered by claiming that "if the problem is big&the only thing to do is leave it behind." As the events of the book lead inexorably to a series of personal and political catastrophes, Gillespie's pessimism seems only to be confirmed; and yet, tethered by his love for Inès, he cannot leave these catastrophes behind.Thus, surrounded by zealots, but insulated by a carapace of solipsism, Gillespie struggles futilely to maintain his position on the sidelines. Once embarrassed by melodrama and maudlin displays of affection, he finds himself begging Inès to take him back. And once so bitterly skeptical of Lumumba's efforts, he finds himself drawn into the struggle, forced to make a sacrifice for a cause he doubts, a self-consciously doomed gesture to win back Inès's love. For much of the book, Gillespie's presiding motto is a quote from Pushkin, "Does a man die at your feet, your business is not to help him, but to note the color of his lips." But when he has an opportunity to enact that dictum, its guidance seems woefully inadequate. Gillespie's policy of detachment becomes the ultimate catastrophe. "I was always too much a watcher," Gillespie laments at the close of the book. Indeed, one of The Catastrophist's finest ironies is that the journalist, Inès, has discarded all objectivity, while Gillespie, the novelist and narrator, insists his writing maintain a sense of distance. Bennett, too, is a watcher, his prose alert and deliberate, and yet for him, this policy of detachment works brilliantly. Much of the book's power derives from its implacable, steady tone, and many of its most stirring passages are the love scenes in which Gillespie's cool, measured narrative voice struggles against, and succumbs to, the eroticism and immediacy of the moment.This tactic does have its weaknesses, however; the climactic scenes of violence and brutality, depicting the aftermath of Mobuto's coup, fall flat, as do Gillespie's ruminations on his love of literature. In both these cases, the crescendo in narrative intensity feels vaguely inauthentic. But on the whole, Bennett has given us a superb book -- part suspense thriller, part psychological study. It adds its capable voice to that unsettling opening of Conrad's own masterful tale: "And this also has been one of the dark places of the earth."—Benjamin Soskis

    This debut book by one of America's most acclaimed young journalists illuminates the inner lives of ordinary people doing the extraordinary--lives that are too often hidden, underreported, or ignored by the rest of the world.

    Brooklyn, BBC.com, and Mental FlossAn intrepid journalist joins the planet’s largest group of nomads on an annual migration that, like them, has endured for centuries. Anna Badkhen has forged a career chronicling life in extremis around the world, from war-torn Afghanistan to the border regions of the American Southwest. In Walking with Abel, she embeds herself with a family of Fulani cowboys—nomadic herders in Mali’s Sahel grasslands—as they embark on their annual migration across the savanna. It’s a cycle that connects the Fulani to their past even as their present is increasingly under threat—from Islamic militants, climate change, and the ever-encroaching urbanization that lures away their young. The Fulani, though, are no strangers to uncertainty—brilliantly resourceful and resilient, they’ve contended with famines, droughts, and wars for centuries. Dubbed “Anna Ba” by the nomads, who embrace her as one of theirs, Badkhen narrates the Fulani’s journeys and her own with compassion and keen observation, transporting us from the Neolithic Sahara crisscrossed by rivers and abundant with wildlife to obelisk forests where the Fulani’s Stone Age ancestors painted tributes to cattle. As they cross the Sahel, the savanna belt that stretches from the Indian Ocean to the Atlantic, they accompany themselves with Fulani music they download to their cell phones and tales of herders and hustlers, griots and holy men, infused with the myths the Fulani tell themselves to ground their past, make sense of their identity, and safeguard their—our—future.