Acclaimed newcomer Fiston Mwanza Mujila has dazzled the literary world with his debut novel, a riotous look at the underbelly of life rarely featured in sub-saharan African literature.
Set in a bar in an unnamed Congolese mining town, Tram 83 follows poet Lucien and his escapades with a cast of writers, drunkards, drug dealers and dreamers.
Published in English by Jacaranda Press and translated by Roland Glasser, Mujila’s novel has been described by the Rumpus as a tale that “delights in absurdities” and extracts “epic poetry from violence, despair and distraction”.
Speaking to Africa is a Country, Mujila said: “I wanted Tram to be able to represent a form of exploitation and neocolonialism that happens throughout Africa, not just in the Congo.”
Tram83 – extract

IN THE BEGINNING WAS THE STONE, AND THE STONE PROMPTED OWNERSHIP, AND OWNERSHIP A RUSH, AND THE RUSH BROUGHT AN INFLUX OF MEN OF DIVERSE APPEARANCE WHO BUILT RAILROADS THROUGH THE ROCK, FORGED A LIFE OF PALM WINE, AND DEVISED A SYSTEM, A MIXTURE OF MINING AND TRADING.
Northern Station. Friday. Around seven or nine in the evening. “Patience, friend, you know full well our trains have lost all sense of time.”
The Northern Station was going to the dogs. It was essentially an unfinished metal structure, gutted by artillery, train tracks, and locomotives that called to mind the railroad built by Stanley, cassava fields, cut-rate hotels, greasy spoons, bordellos, Pentecostal churches, bakeries, and noise engineered by men of all generations and nationalities combined.
It was the only place on earth you could hang yourself, defecate, blaspheme, fall into infatuation, and thieve
It was the only place on earth you could hang yourself, defecate, blaspheme, fall into infatuation, and thieve without regard to prying eyes. Indeed, an air of connivance hung ever about the place. Jackals don’t eat jackals. They pounce on the turkeys and partridges, and devour them. According to the fickle but ever-recurring legend, the seeds of all resistance movements, all wars of liberation, sprouted at the station, between two locomotives. And as if that weren’t enough, the same legend claims that the building of the railroad resulted in numerous deaths attributed to tropical diseases, technical blunders, the poor working conditions imposed by the colonial authorities – in short, all the usual clichés.
Northern Station. Friday. Around seven or nine.
He’d been there nearly three hours, jostling with the passers-by as he waited for the train to arrive. Lucien had been at pains to insist on the sense of time, and on these trains that broke all records of derailment, delay, and overcrowding. Requiem had better things to do than wait for this individual who, with the passing of the years, had lost all importance in his eyes. Ever since he’d turned his back on Marxism, Requiem called everyone who deprived him of his freedom of thought and action armchair communists and slum ideologues. He had merchandise to deliver, his life depended on it. But the train carrying that son of a bitch Lucien was dragging its wheels.
For The Full Extract, Click Here - http://farabaleweekly.com/2016/03/20/fiston-mwanza-mujila-bagged-the-etisalat-book-prize-for-tram83-read-an-excerpt/

This guys should check again....I threw in my hat and I think I deserve to win

v

Destined2win:
.

Uchehot:
v

A

Destined2win:
.

see dem

Congrats

All eyes on Congo.

Nice one

Good for him.!

congrats

these is to invite you al to the national deeper life easter retreat at any campground close to you from 24 to 27 march 2015 free feeding and accomodation

nice one

Congrats,i will soon get there.

Congratulation son!

Mcwrath02:
Acclaimed newcomer Fiston Mwanza Mujila has dazzled the literary world with his debut novel, a riotous look at the underbelly of life rarely featured in sub-saharan African literature.
Set in a bar in an unnamed Congolese mining town, Tram 83 follows poet Lucien and his escapades with a cast of writers, drunkards, drug dealers and dreamers.
Published in English by Jacaranda Press and translated by Roland Glasser, Mujila’s novel has been described by the Rumpus as a tale that “delights in absurdities” and extracts “epic poetry from violence, despair and distraction”.
Speaking to Africa is a Country, Mujila said: “I wanted Tram to be able to represent a form of exploitation and neocolonialism that happens throughout Africa, not just in the Congo.”
Tram83 – extract

IN THE BEGINNING WAS THE STONE, AND THE STONE PROMPTED OWNERSHIP, AND OWNERSHIP A RUSH, AND THE RUSH BROUGHT AN INFLUX OF MEN OF DIVERSE APPEARANCE WHO BUILT RAILROADS THROUGH THE ROCK, FORGED A LIFE OF PALM WINE, AND DEVISED A SYSTEM, A MIXTURE OF MINING AND TRADING.
Northern Station. Friday. Around seven or nine in the evening. “Patience, friend, you know full well our trains have lost all sense of time.”
The Northern Station was going to the dogs. It was essentially an unfinished metal structure, gutted by artillery, train tracks, and locomotives that called to mind the railroad built by Stanley, cassava fields, cut-rate hotels, greasy spoons, bordellos, Pentecostal churches, bakeries, and noise engineered by men of all generations and nationalities combined.
It was the only place on earth you could hang yourself, defecate, blaspheme, fall into infatuation, and thieve
It was the only place on earth you could hang yourself, defecate, blaspheme, fall into infatuation, and thieve without regard to prying eyes. Indeed, an air of connivance hung ever about the place. Jackals don’t eat jackals. They pounce on the turkeys and partridges, and devour them. According to the fickle but ever-recurring legend, the seeds of all resistance movements, all wars of liberation, sprouted at the station, between two locomotives. And as if that weren’t enough, the same legend claims that the building of the railroad resulted in numerous deaths attributed to tropical diseases, technical blunders, the poor working conditions imposed by the colonial authorities – in short, all the usual clichés.
Northern Station. Friday. Around seven or nine.
He’d been there nearly three hours, jostling with the passers-by as he waited for the train to arrive. Lucien had been at pains to insist on the sense of time, and on these trains that broke all records of derailment, delay, and overcrowding. Requiem had better things to do than wait for this individual who, with the passing of the years, had lost all importance in his eyes. Ever since he’d turned his back on Marxism, Requiem called everyone who deprived him of his freedom of thought and action armchair communists and slum ideologues. He had merchandise to deliver, his life depended on it. But the train carrying that son of a bitch Lucien was dragging its wheels.
For The Full Extract, Click Here - http://farabaleweekly.com/2016/03/20/fiston-mwanza-mujila-bagged-the-etisalat-book-prize-for-tram83-read-an-excerpt/

Congratulobia. Infact, I calculate you. Good man.

I didn't bother to create this thread because I felt no one cares. Nice one, OP. The book (and the other two finalists) is available for half the price on Okada Books till 31st March. Grab yours!

Congratulations to the lad, unfortunately I'm not a literature individual.
Invite me to an investment banking thread and I will give my all.

people no dey full diz kind of thread nah.