I reread that infamous 2010 New Yorker profile. of Gil Scott Heron earlier today. I was struck by the conclusion where Scott Heron tells reporter Alec Wilkinson about a novel he wants to write:

I have a novel that I can write … It’s about three soldiers from Somalia. Some babies have been disappearing up on 144th Street, and I speculate later on what happened to them and how they might have been got back. These guys are dead, all three, and they have a chance in the afterlife to do something they should have done when they were alive … I have everything except a suitable conclusion.

It’s also worth reading Greg Tate’s obituary of Gil Scott Heron here.

Further Reading

Davido’s jacket

Davido’s appearance at ‘Amapiano’s biggest concert’ turned a night of celebration into a study in Afrophobia, fandom, and the fragile borders of South African cultural nationalism.

Empty riddles

Drawing on his forced migration from Rwanda, Serge Alain Nitegeka reflects on the forms, fragments, and unsettled histories behind his latest exhibition in Johannesburg.