The writer Teju Cole (remember him from the Africa’s World Cup panel at The New School and his excellent, short novella about Lagos, “Every Day for the Thief“) was recently featured in The New York Times’ T Magazine in a short feature on new “first time novelists.”

Teju Cole, 35
‘‘Open City’’ (Random House, $25)
The book: A hypersensitive Nigerian-German psychiatry resident sizes up the emotional cityscape of post-9/11 New York.
The back story: Cole is American by birth but grew up in Nigeria. His first published work — a cartoon — appeared in a magazine in Lagos when he was 15. Since then he’s been a medical student, an art history professor (Netherlandish and African), a photographer, a gardener and a dishwasher. ‘‘I still do a lot of dishwashing,’’ he says. ‘‘But not in an official capacity.’’

“Open City” is also getting a lot of pre-publication high praise.

The writer Colm Toibin is moved:

Open City is a meditation on history and culture, identity and solitude. The soft, exquisite rhythms of its prose, the display of sensibility, the lucid intelligence, make it a novel to savour and treasure.

Further Reading

The people want to breathe

In Tunisia’s coastal city of Gabès, residents live in the shadow of the phosphate industry. As pollution deepens and repression returns, a new generation revives the struggle for life itself.

After Paul Biya

Cameroon’s president has ruled for over four decades by silence and survival. Now, with dynastic succession looming and no clear exit strategy, the country teeters between inertia and implosion.

Leapfrogging literacy?

In outsourcing the act of writing to machines trained on Western language and thought, we risk reinforcing the very hierarchies that decolonization sought to undo.

Repoliticizing a generation

Thirty-eight years after Thomas Sankara’s assassination, the struggle for justice and self-determination endures—from stalled archives and unfulfilled verdicts to new calls for pan-African renewal and a 21st-century anti-imperialist front.

The king of Kinshasa

Across five decades, Chéri Samba has chronicled the politics and poetry of everyday Congolese life, insisting that art belongs to the people who live it.

Drip is temporary

The apparel brand Drip was meant to prove that South Africa’s townships could inspire global style. Instead, it revealed how easily black success stories are consumed and undone by the contradictions of neoliberal aspiration.