Book Excerpt: LA Times Book Prize for Fiction winner: In the Company of Men

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African fiction in translation is gaining a foothold of recognition, with Ivorian Véronique Tadjo picking up the prestigious LA Times Book Prize for Fiction this year, for her recent novel In the Company of Men. The book 'is unlike anything we’ve ever ...

, the work was translated ​​by the author in collaboration with John Cullen. Tadjo’s novel comprises a series of moving snapshots presented through the eyes of those affected by the Ebola epidemic: the doctor who tirelessly treats patients day after day in a sweltering tent, protected only by a plastic suit; the student who volunteers to work as a gravedigger while universities are closed; the grandmother who agrees to take in an orphaned boy cast out of his village for fear of infection.

‘When the bus gets in at the main station, there will be people everywhere. But don’t worry, your aunt will be there, waiting for you. Don’t tell her anything. Above all, don’t tell her we’re dying here. That would terrify her. Don’t tell her your mother and your two younger brothers are very sick. She wouldn’t understand. Say as little as possible, just watch and do whatever she asks you to do. This is your chance.

When the nurse was notified, he rushed to the house but stopped short on the bedroom threshold and gazed at the two boys, who were writhing on their beds. He saw the stains of blood and mucus on the dirt floor, smelled the stench in the air. He said to the father: ‘Whatever you do, stay away from your children. Don’t touch them, don’t dry their tears. Don’t take them in your arms. Keep your distance from them. You’re in serious danger. I’ll call in my team.

The father, waiting for the medical team to arrive, hadn’t moved from the front door. He let the mother do what she wanted and watched attentively as the villagers went about their daily chores. The farmers, their hoes slung across their shoulders, walked in single file on their way to the fields. Some women with tubs of water on their heads came back from the river. Kids trotted along behind the women, clinging to their skirts, their bare feet covered with dust.

 

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