Doing Nothing with Inspiration
The first time I read Mark Mathabane's "Kaffir Boy" and "Kaffir Boy in America", I was inspired to start my autobigraphy, some kind of trilogy which would trace my childhood in Mazvihwa, then follow me to my A-Level through university life in Harare, and the third installation of the book would follow me to the United States. Everything seemed perfect; somehow some aspects of my life matched that of Mathabane, and I also wanted to appear on Oprah Winfrey and talk about it all. That was ten years ago. No single sentence of this autobiography has been written, but I still remember my source of inspiration, and I know I have done nothing with the inspiration. So here I sit again, looking at a paperback copy of "Kiffir Boy", getting inspired again, but aware that perhaps I would write a biography before I attempted an autobiography. Besides, I have to get ready to go to work now. Memoir? Now that's another story.... For those who don't know, "