I’ve always found it cliché how we overuse the phrase “Don’t judge a book by its cover.” Depending on the context in which it is being used, the phrase has a knack for fitting the situational nuance in which we are called to order for our prejudice. When my cousin Claudia Dhludhlu shared the news that she was editing and publishing a body of work written by her late friend Mandla Ginger (may his soul rest in perfect peace), she shared the book with me, and I can't emphasize how honored I am to have read it and experiencing the waves of emotions it commands.
Firstly, the author has this way of drawing out our sense of prejudice by the design of the characters. Take the protagonist, Andile "Andy" Nkosi, a flawed man born with what I consider a silver spoon and a raw deal of concurrent tragedies that, for better or worse, are all a part of his character development. Andy was a talented musician who had a band called "Sound," narrates his life story and tries to make sense of his close bond with grief to his therapist, Dr. Susan Nkete, who, throughout the novel, plays the role of Andy's voice of reason, guiding him through a turbulent journey of healing that Andy was resistant to at first, but gradually warmed up to getting help to be a better father and human.
The therapeutic element struck a chord with me, and I related intimately as I share the same journey of healing and therapy, but that's a story for another day. Andy was pompous, clumsy, judgmental, and strategic but, in the same vein, charming, kind-hearted, and how do I say this redemptive in his design? The beauty in how he fell in love with Lily on a typical night out in Jozi, how Lily (the protagonist's love interest) challenged him to be a better man, and the retrospective nature of the book made me, as ZuluMecca would say, “fall apart at the seams.”
The Late Mandla Ginger - Author of "Write About Us"
I appreciate how layered the themes of the book were; for a brief moment, the book addresses Homophobia through an altercation Andy has with his late friend Henry (I promise I'm trying not to spoil this for you all) a day before he passes, riddling Andy with some guilt he later resolves through a heart to heart with Henry's mother, Chantel. I had my moment of casting stones from a glass house; just as I was quick to rebuke him for what he had done to his friend, I remembered belonging to the Hip-Hop community, which still has a long way to go in addressing its turbulent relationship with the LGBQTIA community and how I, not knowing any better, participated in prejudice against this community every time I said "Pause" and "No Homo" in my younger years. I had to call bullshit against my own judgment of Andy because I was not any better and needed to introspect and correct myself accordingly.
Elizabeth Lily Fourie was a magnetic woman, though I had no image of her; the imaginative gaze captured by Andy's description of her had me swooning, blissfully being enamored by the cute moments of their honeymoon phase and subsequently riddled by suspense when they went through the curveballs life threw at them. There was a sense of desperation that lingered in my soul each time life dealt them a new challenge that threatened the well-being of their relationship. I wanted love to conquer all, and it did, just not in the way I was expecting.
For example, Take the time when Lily was stricken with Brain Cancer around the same time she found out she was pregnant; I had my reservations about the course of actions she took in the first 6 months of her pregnancy. Though I was relieved that she beat cancer and equally worried when she lost her sense of emotion, I still felt it was unjust for her to leave Andy without notice and strip him of the pivotal moments in the pregnancy journey; Andy, by all means, wanted to be there for his partner and to be denied such an opportunity was cruel and uncomfortable to experience. If I took the time to be by Lily's bedside during her coma, writing her songs, singing them in the hospital, sharing all the gossip from the series we watch together like Andy did, I too would share in the short-lived anger he felt towards her, I couldn't accept being cut out of the pregnancy journey with my partner and baby.
Claudia Dhludhlu - Editor and Publisher of "Write About Us"
I must toast to Andy's father, who championed and constantly rooted for his son, even in his darkest and lowest. I feel like I'm applauding a fish for swimming here, but it is rare for a father to provide emotional support to his son to the extent that he actually suggests he gets help for all the turmoil brewing inside him. It reminded me of the first time I went to a support group, followed by individual therapy. I was against the whole notion, but like Andy, time and maturity made me embrace the notion of getting help and challenging my prejudices against the world, friends, family, and therapy. The more I sympathized/empathized with Andy, the more I saw a bit of myself in him, and it invited me to challenge my perspective on people.
Though we see glimpses of a potential new relationship between him and a character by the name of Refiloe, who's known affectionately as "Flirty FeeFee," the future of their relationship becomes a cliffhanger, I would have loved to see it come to fruition. Still, I appreciate how it was better left to our imagination towards the end of the book. I often find myself caught between rooting for them or chastising them; on the one end, they saw each other during Lily's disappearance, which constituted Andy moving on, but the other part of me feels like their messing around was warranted as cheating, but have a read and let me know if I'm being dramatic.
I felt honored to have read such an emotional, jarring, therapeutic, and serene book. It taught me to first appreciate another person's point of view before judging them because we never truly know the situations they face. A tragic love story with a finishing touch of hope makes this a unanimous 10/10 read, inspiring me to have a different outlook on human nature and relationships in various forms. I pray Mandla is smiling from the heavens, and I'm proud my cousin Claudia was able to honor his memory by realizing such an important story to immortalize his memory. We will keep writing, in your honor, Mr. Ginger, we will keep writing about you just as you wrote about us. Thank you for believing in love.
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