The Hope Prize is an annual award presented by Ubwali Literary Magazine. It recognizes Zambian writers of prose, essays and poetry featured in the magazine.

One winner will receive an honorarium of $500 and will be featured in the fall issue of Shenandoah. One runner-up will receive a six-month virtual mentorship from a writer in their genre. Another runner-up will have the opportunity to attend a class offered by Caine Prize–winning writer Makena Onjerika. The winner will be announced in June.

As part of the Ubwali Hope Prize Interview Series, we sit with each of the six shortlisted writers. They talk about their journey, the work that earned them a spot on the list, and the process behind their craft.

In this conversation, we speak with Dacious Kasoka, an economist, poet, writer, and machine learning engineer. A 2023 Best of the Net nominee, his writings have been published and are forthcoming in World Voices Magazine, Writers Space Africa Magazine, Agape Review, Arts Lounge Magazine, The Kalahari Review, Spillwords Press, OBBLT Review, The Shallow Tales Review, News Diggers newspaper, and elsewhere. When he’s not writing, he’s deeply immersed in reading or coding.

Dacious Kasoka was shortlisted for his poem, When You Died.

 

 

Hello Dacious, Congratulations on being shortlisted for the Ubwali Hope Prize and congratulations on the release of your poem in the new Ubwali Issue. Could you briefly introduce yourself and share how your journey as a writer began? Was there a particular moment or experience that nudged you towards storytelling?

Hello Emmanuella. Thank you so much for your warm congratulations. And thank you so much for having me here, it’s such an honor. Though I hold a bachelor’s in Economics, I‘ve recently branched into tech, particularly in machine learning and data science. But writing has always been with me in some form—poems, essays, and little stories, especially in quiet moments.

My Journey as a writer began 16 years ago, I was 9 at the time. Two people really ignited that spark; my father who was a school teacher, and a beloved childhood friend named Bright Mulenga. I haven’t seen or heard from Bright for the past 14 years, but he remains a part of that beginning. My father had a small library at home, and every night he’d sit my little sister and me down and teach us how to read and write. Bright, on the other hand, has this collection of Japanese manga, and he wrote his own manga-style stories. He introduced me to that world, and I remember the first story I ever wrote was titled Mad Monkey Kung-fu. The plot was wild, and funny, and Bright would laugh so hard at it. We were just kids. It felt sacred back then.

I stopped writing many years after that. Life got in the way, as it often does. I picked it up again briefly in 2017 during my eleventh grade, and let it go once more until 2020, during the COVID-19 lockdown. I grew up a quiet and lonely child, more of an observer than a talker, and didn’t have many friends growing up. The few I did have, I lost along the way. Loneliness can be a heavy burden to carry, and writing gave me a space to unload some of that weight. It became an escape from the confusion and complexity of life. 

 

When You Died wraps grief in such spare, honest language. What was it like emotionally and creatively to write this poem? Did anything surprise you as it came together?

It was both a gentle and heavy experience for me to write When You Died. The grief wasn’t loud altogether, it had a slow quiet coming. I had an emotion deeply ingrained in me, but words were a struggle. I didn’t know the right words to carry the emotion, but thanks to Akpa Arinzechukwu’s After Suicide, which served as my inspiration, I was able to find my voice and compose the poem. It took some time to finish writing the poem. I’d write a line or two, then leave it alone for days. I was scared, I thought I’d get it wrong. I was surprised by how certain images found their space in the poem. For instance, I didn’t deliberately plan to include Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9, but rather one of those little things that remind you of the loved ones you’ve lost.

 

What does being shortlisted for the Ubwali Hope Prize mean to you personally and as a writer? 

Being shortlisted for the Ubwali Hope Prize means a lot to me. Five years ago, I struggled to write something that would get accepted for publication. It feels like a personal affirmation that I have grown a little in this art. I’ve often written in solitude, unsure if my work would ever connect with anyone. So, to be shortlisted, especially by a magazine like Ubwali, is both humbling and encouraging. Above all, it makes me grateful to the editors, to the readers, and to the memory that inspired me to write this piece. 

 

Your bio mentions you’re a machine learning engineer. What’s it like straddling the world of code and the world of literature? Do they ever overlap, or do you keep them completely separate?

I’d say they challenge different parts of me. One is a lot more logical, and structural, the other is more fluid, and emotional. And I think that’s what makes it beautifully interesting. Over time, they feed into each other. Coding has deeply contributed to my patience and attention to detail, which pretty much helps me when I am editing my poems. 

 

Read: Learn How To Analyze a Poem

 

Writers often begin as readers, and reading continues to shape their voice. Which books or authors have left a lasting impact on you, and are there any you return to often?

I spend a lot of time reading, it’s something I return to for comfort, clarity, and rediscovery. There are a number of authors who have left a lasting impact on me, and whom I return to time and again, both poets and novelists. Among novelists, I like to read Fyodor Dostoevsky, George Orwell, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Khaled Hosseini, Yann Martel, and Noviolet Bulawayo. Among poets, I keep closely works by Saddiq Dzukogi, Kwame Dawes, Yusef Komunyakaa, Kayo Chingonyi, Kofi Awoonor, Tares Oburumu, Mary Oliver, and Ilya Kaminsky. The list goes on and on. However, these are authors whose works have influenced my view of the world, and, in many respects, my writing. 

 

Are there any projects you’re currently working on—writing or otherwise—that you’re excited about?

I’m not working on any big project at the moment. I’m just writing whenever I can, trying to grow and become better at this art. 

 

What advice would you give to emerging writers, especially poets who also work in tech, navigating the evolving landscape of African literature today, especially those who may feel unseen or uncertain?

To anyone out there trying to write, especially those juggling poetry with something like tech, I’d say: Keep going. Read a lot, read more than you write. And write every day, even if it’s just a little. It’s not an easy thing to do, but you have to fall in love with the process of writing. Writing has a way of helping us make sense of the world and our place in it. Trust your pace. Your voice matters, and in time, it will reach the people who need to hear it.

 

Congratulations once again on the shortlist, and thank you for taking the time to answer our questions. We look forward to the writings you will share in the near and distant future.