With AiW Guests: Nzube Nlebedim – The Shallow Tales Review, Mazi Nwonwu – Omenana Magazine, and Kenechi Uzor – Iskanchi Magazine, interviewed by SarahBelle Selig of Catalyst Press.
AiW note: #ReadingAfrica Week is an annual celebration of African literature held the first full week of December every year. Kickstarted by Catalyst Press in 2017, the campaign began as a way to spotlight the diverse and genre-spanning work writers across the African continent are doing by encouraging readers, writers, publishers, booksellers, and book lovers of all kinds to shoutout their favorite African authors and publishers with the hashtag #ReadingAfrica on their social media pages. Now in its sixth year, the campaign has grown to include a full week-long program of virtual events and roundtables, daily challenges, campaign ambassadors and more.
All this week, use the hashtag #ReadingAfrica or #ReadingAfricaWeek on social media to celebrate your favorite African authors and stories, and tune into Catalyst Press’ pages to keep up to date with live panels and other #ReadingAfrica events.
Indie publishers would be nowhere without the extraordinary literary magazines whose passion for sharing and supporting indie books gets readers around the world excited about what we do. At Catalyst Press, we know we’re indebted to these brilliant curators who, in these crazy times, make time to read and review our titles, often while managing their own busy writing and editing careers. And as a publisher of African literature, we at Catalyst have the special privilege of working with magazines on the continent and beyond whose dedication to elevating African voices echoes our own.
In honor of #ReadingAfrica Week 2022, I sat down with the creators of Iskanchi Magazine, Omenana Magazine, and The Shallow Tales Review to talk about what it means to be a literary magazine from Africa and for Africans, and what they expect for the future of the industry.
We hope you’ll join us this week for #ReadingAfrica Week 2022, where we’re celebrating all things African literature—including creators like Kenechi Uzor, Mazi Nwonwu, and Nzube Nlebedim who keep the industry growing and thriving.
– SarahBelle Selig, publicist and South African office head, Catalyst Press
SarahBelle Selig: Hi everyone, thanks so much for joining me! Let’s start with something that’s long been a topic of conversation at our press (we even hosted a panel about it earlier this week). You’re each publishing African writers, but how do you define who is African? 
Nzube Nlebedim: An “African writer,” for us at The Shallow Tales Review, is any writer, from any part of the world, who crafts writings that interrogate African problems. These writings could be against or for us, but what’s important is that they are about us. We select and publish the best of these.
Mazi Nwonwu: At Omenana, we do not hold a restrictive view of the who can be identified as African. This is because we share the definition of who an African is as expressed by the African Science Fiction and Fantasy Society (ASFS), which sees an African as including citizens of African countries, migrants to an African country, people with an African parent, people from the continent who now live abroad, and people born on the continent and grew up there.
Selig: So how much of what you do is for readers within Africa—to give Africans a place to read and publish new literature—and how much of it is for non-Africans, to experience a truer representation of the continent?
Nlebedim: That’s all we stand for: the publication of writings and art that reflect, and if possible, change the impression those living outside Africa have of us. There are a whole lot of misconceptions about Africa, and we are using our literature to correct these anomalies and hopefully right the wrongs, and at the same time give writers an opportunity to have their voices amplified.
Kenechi Uzor: Authenticity—telling our stories as they ought to be told—takes primacy over any delineation or specificity of audience. Because, within or without Africa, our ideal audience are those interested in the authentic and best expressions of African realities. I am interested in building a platform where the African realities can be showcased as they are experienced, without interventions or explications.
Selig: Do you find yourself making editorial changes to the works you receive, or making curatorial decisions, based on how relevant the context would be to non-African readers?
Nwonwu: In truth, what we do is ensure that stories are accessible. This is irrespective of where a reader hails from. Africa is a very complex continent and the diversity in culture is palpable. We, however, see similarities in almost every context and this makes it easier to approach the editorial process, especially as it relates to audience accessibility.
Nlebedim: Every society has its communicative norms. Africans, too. We understand this, and so our editors try as much as possible to stay true and not have to explain what writers say or mean. Our work is not to come down but to have our readers from outside Africa come up to understand what we mean when we say things. An American writer wouldn’t naturally explain what marshmallows mean when they use it in their works. They expect readers to know what they are or at least research them. I move that African editors keep up the same energy.
Selig: Your publications all place great import on fluidity, unruliness, wildness, disobedience. Where does that stem from? What’s the history that’s implied there?
Nwonwu: What we place import on is authenticity. If it is real, express it. If you feel it, say it. If you think it, let your characters live it. However, we do place some limitations. Everything must be in context.
A story from the Fall 2022 issue of Iskanchi.
Uzor: Perhaps the history is that because the lions were not telling their side of the hunt, the hunter began to tell it as he pleased and told it for so long that the lions even began to accept these stories as facts, as the norm, and began to repeat them. We were not telling our stories, so they told them for us in their language, in their own style: the dark continent of ancestral savannahs and huts and heat and flinging breasts and guttural grunts. And now we, too, tell our stories just like they do, in their style. The same old single story. We who seek to change the narrative, to combat the stereotypes, must first miseducate ourselves from the prevalent narrative. If we must tell our stories true, then we must be nonconforming. We must disobey and deviate from the norm.
Selig: Speaking of education, how did your literary educations determine your path towards publishing?
Nlebedim: I studied English at the University of Lagos, Nigeria. That opportunity opened me up to the realities of African literature, and perhaps, what was needed to try to push it forward. 
Nwonwu: I don’t know if I can say I have received a literary education yet! Omenana came as something I felt would fill a need in a niche I had deep interest in and which, sadly, the Nigerian literary landscape at that point wasn’t interested in platforming. Even now, we are still seen as the fringe part of the literary community.
Uzor: I was exposed to a lot of experimental writing during my MFA at the University of Utah. Of course, most works we studied were by white authors. I wanted to know the African writers working in the experimental mode. What would experimental writing look like in the African literary context, and where would such works be published? This was how the magazine arm of Iskanchi Press was born. I saw a need for a platform for experimental writing by Africans.
Selig: Each of you has ongoing writing commitments to other outlets— Nzube, you’re Editor in Chief at Afrocritik; Kenechi, you’re a contributor to multiple outlets including Catapult, Electric Literature, and The Millions; Mazi, you’re a journalist for the BBC. What feels different about running your own magazine? Could you do this work of curating without a background in writing? Which of these do you foremost consider yourself: a writer, a journalist, or a publisher?
Uzor: I began as a reader, and the reading led to writing because some books captivated me so much that I had to write my version. The writing forced me into editing, and as an editor I saw so many manuscripts I knew readers would find amazing if someone would just publish then. So I became a publisher.
