The House of Rust by Khadija Abdalla Bajaber

I have not been so effectively blown away by a writer the way Khadija Abdalla Bajaber has just done in her debut, The House of Rust, for a long time. I first met the author virtually in a writing class organised by the 2018 Caine Prize for African Writing winner, Makena Onjerika through the Nairobi Writing Academy, before I knew of her yet to be published book. I was curious about almost all of my co-students and so upon googling her, I came across some of her poetry (truly compelling) and her short stories published in Enkare Review, Lolwe and Down River Road. I was sufficiently struck by her fluid and imagery-rich prose that, when I learned that she had won her Graywolf Press African Fiction Prize, and that her debut novel was about to be published, I had to immediately pre-order it.

 

House of Rust is a richly woven story, both in its imagery and its prose. A young girl in Mombasa loses her father to the seas, and she sails off in a boat made of bones accompanied by a talking cat, in search of him. On her journey she encounters not just talking monsters, but also the truth of who her father really was/is.  By sailing out to the sea she also embarks on a personal journey of self-discovery. The story is steeped in the magical realism of the tales and myths that are synonymous with Mombasa. Khadija Bajaber’s prose is truly a beauty to behold. The writing is heavy with imagery but not weighed down by it. It is written with a fluid, skilful craft and with what feels like instinctive ease. The imagery has such a cutting clarity that I sometimes had to pose to catch my breath.

 

To read House of Rust is to walk on Mombasa’s, and its Old Town streets, to smell its spicy cuisine and the brine from the sea, to feel magic a hair’s breadth away from your skin. Khadija has managed to distil Old Mombasa, with no little magic of her own, into an exquisite piece of writing. I cannot sufficiently say how utterly excited and awed I am, to witness the birth of a writer who I am sure with this book, will be a hallmark in literature. Her prowess in prose is a rare gift straight from the gods of storytelling. I cannot wait until enough people have read the book so that I can freely discuss the absolute stellar beauty of this book, without spoiling it for too many would-be-readers.