The Hope Prize is an annual award presented by Ubwali Literary Magazine. It recognizes Zambian writers of prose 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 Mwinji Siame, a Zambian artist, essayist, and fiction writer. Her work has appeared in Minola Review, Feminist Food Journal, and Art Dusseldorf, among others. When she is not reading, writing, or editing, she enjoys spending time outdoors in nature and playing the guitar.

Mwinji Siame was shortlisted for her story, Hometown Glory.

 

Hello Mwinji, Congratulations on being shortlisted for the Ubwali Hope Prize.  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?

I am a freelance creative writer and creative in general. I’m Zambian- to keep it simple. 

I grew up surrounded by many books. My mother also told me a lot of little folk tales, and a lot of stories about her life, and my grandmother and grandfather. I never got to meet them, so that was a way of preserving their legacy, I think. That and teaching me parts of her and my late father’s culture and traditions that they grew up with. Additionally, I believe many of the values I hold were instilled through stories.

Moving to a country that was not my own, I struggled to communicate my experience to people who maybe weren’t outsiders, so it came out through writing. It was and still is a bridge between my individual self and the surrounding community.

 

Hometown Glory tackles the weighty themes of environmental degradation and complex family relationships. What inspired you to merge these two strands in one narrative? Were there real-life events or personal experiences that shaped this story

I think our relationships to each other and our relationship to the environment are connected, in that the state of the latter reflects the state of the former. When we care for one another truly, we find value in caring for that which sustains us. Everything begins with family and relationships for me and those relationships are tied to the land, to belonging, to work. I moved back to Zambia because I felt connected to it, because this is where most of my family resides, so it stands to reason I need to take care of the environment that makes up this beautiful place I now call home.  

There is so much environmental degradation around us. It was a bit spooky because recently there was actually a mining spill in the Kafue River. But at the same time, I think I wasn’t surprised that that mirrored this story that I totally made up long before, because you see how certain actors have a lot of power, and the impunity they seem to operate with in terms of how they treat our environment. This story was maybe also a kind of thought experiment about what happens when you don’t rein in certain players in the economy, and unfortunately, it was a pretty accurate thought experiment.

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

Personally, I think it is just a reminder that I might actually be good at something. Sometimes I feel like I’m just skating by, but here I am. I know we say we don’t need external validation, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel good when it’s there, especially when you’ve worked hard.  I also feel a sense of belonging, because it’s a Zambian prize in terms of who conceived of it, and it’s always really special to be recognized by people who feel like family. The same way I felt when I was published in The Republic this year. It was my first African publication, and while every time I’ve seen my name next to an article or feature, it felt really special to share a space with other African writers. It felt like my real first published article, even though it wasn’t.

As a writer, of course, it’s an honor and I am so humbled. I’m a kapyopyo in the game, a youngster. So I’m really humbled.

 

Could you walk us through your writing process—how a story begins for you, how you develop it, and what keeps you going through the tougher stages?

I wrote part of this story in my phone notes app. I feel like I’m more honest on my phone. I’ve done that a few times. It’s very Gen Z and very millennial, but I think it rids me of the pretense that I might have were I to sit down at my desk, open my PC and say yes, writing time. Now to write the next great African novel. That puts a lot of pressure on me to come up with something perfect. But on my phone, it’s like texting a friend, and often it’s what I see on my phone: a news story on X, a weird viral video that maybe sparks some reflection on culture or like, who is this person.

The energy of life around me too- the glance of a street vendor, the perfume of a tree, a figure in the waning light. In those moments, I get carried away, imagining who these people are, where they’re going, or whatever they remind me of.  I also love nature, and I’m surrounded by it- I live in the town but not the most developed parts of it. I live surrounded by trees older than me, animals, birds, lizards. I’m in touch with nature. 

So, if an idea comes to me while I’m listening to music on my phone, or I’m waiting in a queue at the supermarket, or when I see two birds perched on a tree, I’ll just write it then and there. Then I edit it all on my PC and finish it up there. During tougher stages of writing, I read poetry, I listen to music. I look at art- in person, online, wherever. Lynette Yiadom-Boakye is brilliant and also a writer, literally and through the simultaneous specificity and universality that her portraits evoke.   I recently had the opportunity to see an exhibition about the late Zambian artist Martin Phiri at the Lusaka Contemporary Arts Center, which was also very interesting. Even just his life story.

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?

On Chesil Beach by Ian McEwan was the first adult novel I read. Yearning, longing, loss, what ifs. It felt as expansive as my emotions did at that age, in my late teens.  Chinelo Okparanta’s short story collection Happiness, Like Water had me in a chokehold for a while. I was moved.  Ama Ata Aidoo’s Changes were revelatory for me.

Chimamanda Adichie. Beautiful Goddess. For helping me see desires I didn’t know I had, and accepting the ones I already knew I did. I don’t think I would have followed my heart and pursued a life and career filled with art and creativity without reading her work. And for her lucidity.

Read: Writing Advice Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie gives Young Writers

I also read Zambian author, playwright and public sociologist, Mulenga Kapwepwe’s novel Perfect Marriage a few times last year. There’s a lot of wisdom in it but delivered with a lot of humility and, in places, a subtle wit. As well as a lot of interpersonal conflict and drama. Unpretentious. I don’t enjoy literature that tries too hard to be overly literary and overly critical. I think that’s why writers like Tessa Hadley have also stuck with me, for her simplicity and honesty. She just writes, I think. Sober, mature. 

 

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

Yes. I’m finalizing edits for a short story called The Grifters that will appear in the Women and Money Anthology led by Copper Monstera. It’s one of the publishing house’s flagship projects, and I think it’s pioneering for the Zambian literary space, just because of how it has brought writers across borders together in different ways and given such diversity of our writers a platform. So I’m excited.  Otherwise, I am working on improving my visual craft. One of my brothers promised me Fenty Skincare products, albeit a while back, if I could learn one of their favorite classical pieces on guitar, so I might also get on that. Very strange request, but I suspect it’s just an incentive to encourage me to get back to what I love and improve my skills.

 

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

Go for it. Just go for it. If nobody is doing what you are doing, if you are worried that your work is too this or that-that’s actually a good sign because you’re probably writing something true to you. It’s better to start scared than not start at all.

Secondly, vibe in your own lane and be yourself. Trends come and go, but originality is timeless. 

Lastly, have fun- in life, love, and in writing.

Congratulations once again on being shortlisted for the Ubwali Hope Prize. Thank you for taking the time to answer our questions. We’re looking forward to all your projects in the near and far future.