Fictitious and alive

 This is a celebration of the book I’m reading, The bicycle with whiskers by Ondjaki. 

It’s narrated by a boy who wants to win a bike. The state broadcaster is running a competition. Children can send in their stories and the best one will get a bicycle painted in the national colours: red, black and yellow. 

The boy runs into problems right from the start. The day the competition is announced, and the bike is displayed on the television, there’s a power cut in his street. Next, the other children say the competition is fixed, the winner has already been decided, it’s not worth it. Then the boy admits to himself he’s got no knack for writing stories. There’s a writer living on the same street but when he’s asked to contribute a winning idea, he’s evasive. 

What shines through is the portrayal of the children – the narrator, Quiet George (a restless boy whose mother is always saying ‘Quiet George!’), Isaura. They’re sharp, resilient, caring. They notice the behaviour of those around them – both the humans and the animals – and they organise this information to make their own decisions. 

Isaura spends hours sitting in her backyard watching the swallows, the slugs, the locusts, even naming them after former presidents. One day she tells Quiet George that Senghor the slug has gone quiet and is unwell.

   – How do you know? – asks Quiet George – Are you a slug doctor?
   – No, but I know when they’re not well. They’re like people. – answers Isaura. 
   – Like them how?
   – They don’t go and see anyone. 

I’ve never been to Angola, where the story is set, but I know children just like these. The narrator, Isaura and Quiet George are fictitious and very much alive.