I was 7 years old when I first fell in love with reading. It was 1992 and my family and I were living in Zimbabwe’s capital Harare as my dad was getting a degree in Theological Studies. I remember the day I received my first book, it was on a weekend and my parents had returned from shopping with a special gift for me. My dad handed me a Sunrise Reader (Blue Book 1 I think) not knowing at all that simple gesture was going to change my life. With excitement, I took the book to my bedroom sat in a corner and entered the adventurous world of Tatenda and David, Chipo and Jenny. The best way I can describe the feeling I had as I held my first book was awe and pride. My parents believed I was now old enough to read books that had lots of words in them 🙂
A year later, a lady from England whom we never met but occasionally sent my siblings and I presents, sent me two books that became my most treasured possessions. The first was C. S. Lewis, The Lion the Witch and Wardrobe and the second, Warrior of Light (I don’t remember the authors’ name and I can’t find the title online). I lost count how many times I reread those books. I even went as far as putting plastic covers on them so that they would not get damaged. As I grew older, books became my escape and I read as much as I could. Sometimes I did not understand what I was reading because the English was way too difficult for me but that did not matter, I had a thirst to know more. A funny example was me trying to read Jane Austens, Wuthering Heights when I was 11 years old. I am sure I did not catch 3/4s of what went on in the book but that did not stop me from trying. I have many fond memories with literature but that is not the main point of this blog post.
In my early 20s, it became evident that not one of the books I read growing up ever had a black protagonist like me. All my female heroes were white. The more I thought about it, the more it bothered me until I decided, one day I would be an author. I said that without believing I could become one. Over the years through this blog, I received many encouraging notes from friends and strangers telling me I had a natural talent for telling stories. Even though the compliments are genuine, it has taken me close to ten years to believe in myself. No matter, I know now that some seeds need a lot more water than others. In May this year, all I was told, finally hit home, and I believed.
I now believe, I too have a story to share.
I Believe, as an African woman, I can write inspirational Christian books for young girls.
I Believe, somewhere out there, bookworm African teen girls, Christian or not, will appreciate reading stories with protagonists that look like them and live like them.
I believe, I will do my utmost best to present a work that is excellent.
So if you are interested, follow me as I chase my dream of publishing inspirational stories from an African perspective. I cannot afford to get published the traditional way and so I am planning on self-publishing. I wish I could say this means my first book will be printed, unfortunately no. I hope you will find the digital copies I present are an excellent work which you and many others will support. My plan is to save up enough money to one-day print books that girls in Africa can read.
Hopefully, in the coming weeks, I will post about the short story I am working on. If you are on Instagram, you are welcome to follow me at, shulamalindi.
Chase your dreams folks 🙂
P.S In the last three months, I have invested a lot of time on editing what I am writing, something I have not done well with my past posts, forgive me :)At the time, I wrote from my heart and had no idea what to look out for when editing a blog post. I hope from now on you will begin to see an improvement in my style of writing.