By Siphiwo Mahala
Kabelo Sello Duiker would have turned 37 on April 13 this year (2011)had he not extinguished his own flame on January 19 2005.
At the time of his death Duiker had already published two acclaimed novels: He won the Commonwealth Writers’ Prize for Best First Book: Africa Region for his debut novel, Thirteen Cents (David Philip, 2000), and the Herman Charles Bosman Prize for The Quiet Violence of Dreams (Kwela, 2001). His third novel, The Hidden Star (Umuzi, 2005) was published posthumously.
If there is anything we can learn from Duiker, it is that the literary landscape is a universal landscape and should not be defined along racial lines. Duiker was not a good black writer; he was just a great writer. His peers, literary giants and critics all acknowledged his contribution to our literature.
Duiker is to literature what Steve Biko is to politics, both having died at the tender age of 30 but leaving indelible footprints in our collective memory. Duiker’s writing distinguished itself with its courageous interrogation of issues relating to sexuality, identity, mental illness and Hiv and Aids. Thirteen Cents is a moving account of a 13-year old homeless boy, who in his struggle to survive on the streets of Cape Town, finds himself being sexually abused by adults. The Quiet Violence, on the other hand, centres on the tumultuous life of Tshepo, a Rhodes University student who is confined to a mental asylum in Cape Town.
Indeed a close reading of Duiker’s works reveals that the thread that runs through his writing is identity in its diverse forms. Azure, the teenage protagonist in Thirteen Cents loses his identity and becomes Blue; and Tshepo becomes Angelo-Tshepo in The Quiet Violence. The circumstances surrounding this change of identity have largely to do with the effects of racism that permeate the lives of these characters.
Six years after his demise, Duiker remains one of the best writers ever to come out of South Africa and arguably the best to have emerged since the turn of the century. It was surely because of these extraordinary achievements that the South African Literary Awards (Sala) saw fit to name an award after him.
Naming an award after Duiker is the greatest accolade bestowed on his memory, but more needs to be done to preserve and celebrate his legacy. Duiker should be a figure that aspirant writers strive to emulate.
* This is a very condensed version of the author’s article, published in The Mail and Guardian April 8 – 14 2010 edition
3 comments:
Indeed! Sello Duiker’s flame was extinguished long before its time. He had already given so much in a short space of time, but had so much more to give. I for one admired his honesty in his texts and his sense of self, his original and sincere identity as a fiction writer. Just like the author of the text above says, I also say that he was a great world writer period.
As to why he took his own life as it had been reported, remains a mystery. I read on a number of platforms that he suffered from Bipolar Disorder, a detrimental condition that is not treated as such, at least in the mass communication platforms. It is believed that sufferers often have suicidal thoughts. As to whether Sello was one of these people, also remains a mystery. All I know is that the loss of his life will haunt the literary scene for a long time. I for one, as a developing writer drew a lot of inspiration from his bravery and candidness. He was simply genius, never mind those who did not like him for the freedom he displayed in his intense narratives.
Sello Duiker, wherever you are brother, know that the younger generation of writers have indeed lost a crucial person in you. But those who are serious about their craft would want to explore many ways of storytelling and hopefully be as honest as you have been in their writing. May your soul rest in peace brother! We still mourn your disappearance. But we will not stop to write.
Deon-Simphiwe
5 stars and 20 pages,
Deon i agree that its up to us
who understand what is written to preserve
this beautiful art and pass it on to
coming generations so that they can give birth to those who know no color.
Post a Comment