Blood Red Moon Poem – The Lunar Eclipse 27th July, 2018

Ruth HartleyAfrica, Family, Poetry, Zambia8 Comments

    LUNAR ECLIPSE JULY 27th, 2018 On a routine night the ordinary moon swims through a shoal of cloud. It slides upwards as blotches of water vapour in saturated air slip away eastwards. It’s a dead ball of dirt whose dust was kicked about by two astronauts in 1969. Held in place by Earth’s gravitational pull, it circles our […]

The Ballad of the Public Library

Ruth HartleyAfrica, Zambia6 Comments

THE BALLAD OF THE (P)UBL(I)C LIBRARY I walked past the *UBL*C LIBRARY where the pavement is piled up in heaps to the shop with non-see wood windows by the SUPA NOVA LEBANESE EATS. *** As I strolled past a man selling apples I saw a gutter where dealers deal dollars and a man keeps a rainbow in bottles and a […]

The Shaping of Water

Ruth HartleyAfrica, Colonialism, Displacement, Freedom Fighters, Storytelling, The Shaping of Water, Writing, Zambia5 Comments

The Shaping of Water Such a lovely thing happened to me today. My first novel The Shaping of Water has appeared on the Facebook Page and Website of Gadsden Publishers in Lusaka Zambia. This is the right place for my book to be – Zambia is the home of this novel. You can see the video about the book here […]

Remembering Rica Hodgson — my brave friend

Ruth HartleyAfrica, apartheid, Freedom Fighters, South Africa, Writing, ZambiaLeave a Comment

Hello friends and fellow readers. Are you amongst those who didn’t see or couldn’t read my post on 20 January? It was about my friend and mentor, Rica Hodgson, who died recently. I am really sorry that it didn’t reach all of you who are interested in South African history and the anti-apartheid movement. This was due to technical problems […]

Rica Hodgson: “foot soldier for freedom”, friend and hero

Ruth HartleyAfrica, apartheid, Freedom Fighters, South Africa, Writing, Zambia5 Comments

Rica Hodgson — the freedom fighter who rescued me 52 years ago This post is harder to write than I expected. I was at my desk and about to write Rica a letter when I learnt that she had died. It was not unanticipated. She was 97 and had been in frail health for a while. I had only just […]