Auf der Suche nach afropäischer Kultur, nimmt Johny Pitts uns mit auf eine Reise in die Metropolen Europas. In Paris folgt er den Spuren James Baldwins, in Berlin trifft er ghanaische Rastafari, in Moskau besucht er die einstige Patrice-Lumumba-Universität.

In this daring novel, the author gives a startling account of the inner workings of contemporary South African urban culture. In doing so, he ventures into unexplored areas and takes local writing in English to places it hasn't been before. The Quiet Violence of Dreams is set in Cape Town's cosmopolitan neighbourhoods - Observatory, Mowbray and Sea Point - where subcultures thrive and alternative lifestyles are tolerated. The plot revolves around Tshepo, a student at Rhodes, who gets confined to a Cape Town mental institution after an episode of 'cannabis-induced psychosis'.

The Broken River Tent is a novel that marries imagination with history. It is about the life and times of Maqoma, the Xhosa chief who was at the forefront of fighting British colonialism in the Eastern Cape during the nineteenth century. The story is told through the eyes of a young South African, Phila, who suffers from what he calls triple ‘N’ condition—neurasthenia, narcolepsy and cultural ne plus ultra. This makes him feel far removed from events happening around him but gives him access to the analeptic memory of his people.

Karabo, a light-skinned girl living in Mthatha, grew up with the hurtful cry of ‘yellowbone’ ringing in her ears. She hears her parents argue, not realising that questions surrounding her paternity are the cause. To Karabo, there can be no greater bond than the one between her and ‘Teacher’, as her father is called.

Young Naledi wants to trade her bantu knots for Nonhle Thema’s hair on the Dark and Lovely box. She wishes she looked more like her light-skinned mother too. Ledi grows up in Pimville with her strict grandmother Mama Norah, while her mother, Dineo, is out chasing the blesser lifestyle. Bantu Knots follows Ledi as she navigates the pressures of her circumstances, womanhood and beauty ideals – and pursues her dreams in spite of it all.

"I imagined a dying person’s last breath as something resembling an exclamation mark, distinct and hanging mid-air like an interrupted thought. My older sister Fikile’s last breath before she dies is nothing of the sort. There is no rattling noise at the back of her throat. No relentless twitching. No clinging to life.