Thursday, 15 March 2012

Mighty be our Powers by Leymah Gbowee


We could all learn a great deal from Leymah Gbowee and the ordinary Liberian women like her who protested peacefully for the peace that their finally achieved. More than anything else I think this book, her memoirs, teaches us that you do not have to be out of the ordinary to make extraordinary achievements.

Throughout her account of how she came to be the Peace Activist and the 2011 Nobel Peace Prize recipient we know today, she tells recounts how she stumbled and continues to stumble. She made bad choices, had numerous failings, and was often close to losing hope. Above all else her story is incredibly empowering because through her life story, we see that things are possible. If we organise and work together, even the most powerless in society can stand up to the most powerful. She touches on issues which would seem obvious to the outside world but are so often overlooked by the many humanitarian programmes set up by the United Nations or International NGOs. Whether its disarmament programmes or election monitoring, the need for meaningful collaboration with people on the ground, who are in the communities we all so desperately want to 'save' is invaluable.

Mighty be our Powers should be on the required reading list for every humanitarian actor and election observer going to work in the field. The methods adopted by peace builders like Ms Gbowee are simple yet effective. They achieved more with limited resources than the heavily-funded peacekeeping missions, NGOs who continue to reinvent the same broken wheel or internationally-backed tribunals have been able to do with millions of dollars and years of work.I'm sure there's more to come from this formidable feminist because as she herself tells us in the final chapter, the story is not yet over!

Pigeon English by Stephen Kelman



If it were possible to give this book zero stars, I would. Although the premise behind it is interesting and novel enough- looking at the troubled marginalized youth in London's inner city from their own perspective - the execution was atrocious. I can't recall the last time I skipped through so many pages of a book. 


The idea of the eleven year old as narrator works for the first few pages. Then, as 'yout speak' does, it just starts to grate on you. What I found ironic was that the book received such praise for being 'a realistic portrayal' .....of who or what I thought. While I don't doubt that Kelman did his research, I still believe both he and those writing in praise of the book, give him far more credit than he deserves. 


I felt no more empathy for these troubled inner city kids with nicknames like Killa and X-Fire than I did before reading the book. Kelman also misses the mark with the main character. There are times when Harri says things that are completely out of character for an 11 year old- at times he sounds like the grown man writing the story or like a 5 year old child who's endearing but whose train of thoughts is all over the place. The narrative sounded too often like an adult trying to imitate a child. 


The book's ending and link to certain social issues made it seem far more important and interesting than it was. Some readers said they found the book disturbing but then what? Being disturbed by an issue doesn't propel us to action so rather than show us something we don't already know, Kelman is yet another observer of what David Cameron et al term 'broken Britain' My verdict- Great concept, poor execution.