In Accra, on a humid day, Leye Adenle, Kalaf Epalanga, Nozizwe Cynthia Jele, Troy Onyango, Zukiswa Wanner, Ondjaki, and I sit for lunch between sessions of the Labone Dialogues organised by New York University’s Accra chapter which is led by Chiké Frankie Edozien. I cannot accurately recall what the subject matter of the conversation is but Ondjaki says to me: “Rémy, in fiction you have the right to remember what didn’t happen.”
Like so many conversations and discussions from that wonderful literary gathering, the statement sticks with me. It makes it into my writing journal which, many months later, is stolen from my car along with my laptop and other valuables. I do not mourn the laptop too much despite its price. The real loss is the journal: handwritten fragments of thoughts, snatches of dialogue, to-do lists, and tidbits that float around my brain. It is this, and the custom leather jacket made for it, that I really rue—and why, while I do not pray—I curse whoever broke into my car every night. Every. Fucking. Night.
The contents of the laptop, for the most part, were backed up in the cloud. Even my extensive music collection which has followed me from CDs to various desktop PCs, iPods, iPads, and backed up regularly to a hard drive was not so hard to reconstruct. But the handwritten notes—Fuck!—and stories that were in various stages of commencement and completion—Motherfucker!—those I could not recover, and, worse, not even recall. Despite my best efforts, over the course of 2024, I was not able to rewrite the short stories, poems, or essays I had drafted.
The attempts at recapturing what I had written is best encapsulated by what Maaza Mengiste called “remembering as imagination” at the 2024 Doek Literary Festival. What I think I recovered does not resemble some of what I had written—I cannot be sure, of course, because I do not remember what was lost. Some of the reconstructed pieces are better, and some are definitely worse. But the effort to recreate what was lost was an imaginative undertaking: some titles, some character names, some plots, and some, dare I say it, killer wordplay—all of it, all of the things I have since written are remembered fictions.
If imagination can do this to language, what can it do to memory?
This, perhaps, is why eyewitness testimony is counted as unreliable in numerous jurisdictions around the world. The brain adds colour to details, it blurs out prejudices, it heightens sensations, and it makes events better or worse than they actually were depending on one’s present perspective. Like the break-in into my car. Technically, I only lost a laptop and a writing journal, but, really, god rot every single person who was involved in the scheme and all of their relatives all the way back to Adam and Eve. Memory is a tricky horse to ride. Sometimes it trots, other times it canters. But, without warning, it can also buck.
Anyway, Ondjaki was right: in fiction you have the right to remember what did not happen.
Otherwise it would be impossible to draft something like “Important Terminology For Military-Age Males”—a story set in Namibia’s War For Independence in which historical facts require careful reanimation. What happened is well-known and documented. The dates, times, uniform, geography, political sentiments—all of that Wikipedia and some archives readily provided. But what did not—or may have happened—is just as compelling as what did. And that is where fiction and the inherent right to remember what did not happen becomes crucial.
This, again, echoes something that I have come to consider as part of the writing process: what you do not know will guide the research.
The rest you will have to imagine.
After that comes the hardest part: finding the courage to write the fiction.
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Read “Important Terminology For Military-Age Males” on LitHub • Listen to a reading of “Important Terminology For Military-Age Males” on Soundcloud.
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POSTSCRIPT: Sometimes, after a night spent deep-diving through a vinyl wormhole on the innanets and flirting with financial instability, you just need to stand ten toes deep in business and purchase a turntable. And then, after finding out how much vinyl costs to acquire and maintain, the next logical thing is to find a criminal enterprise to fund your new hobby.
READ: “The House” by Leye Adenle (Lolwe) • “Apolitical Intellectuals” by Otto Rene Castillo (marxists.org) • Dominicana and How Not To Drown In A Glass of Water by Angie Cruz • “There Are Two Types Of Dishwasher People” by Ellen Cushing (The Atlantic) • “Books Left On Trains”, “I Am Glad I Don’t Have To Spend Another Second With Your Novel”, “In Defence Of An Imperiled Art”, and “Leaving Tokyo Is Leaving You” by Junot Diaz (StoryWorlds) • “Just Dance” by Chiké Frankie Edozien (Lolwe) • “Sistas” by Sandra Maria Esteves (Poetry Foundation) • “Gratification To The Survivors Of Daily Damnations” by Oladejo Abdullah Feranmi (Poetry Foundation) • “Her Dreams” by Nikki Giovanni (Poetry Foundation) • “Slam, Dunk & Hook” by Yusef Komunyakaa (Poetry Foundation) • “Recreation” by Audre Lorde (Poetry Foundation) • “The Last Slave” by Marilyn Nelson (Poetry Foundation) • “Water Thirsty For Water” by Nasser Rabbah (Poetry Foundation) • “Elroy Salam Pays Homage To Ataya, A Centuries-Old Ritual Of Tea Brewing” by Marigold Warner (It’s Nice That) • “Hip-Hop Ghazal” by Patricia Smith (Poetry Foundation) • “Upon Arrival” by Lena Khalaf Tuffaha (Poetry Foundation) | WATCH: A Thousand Blows, season 1 (2025) • Bleach: Thousand-Year Blood War, part 1, 2, and 3 (2024) • Bon Appetit: The Man Who Cooks Biryani For 300 People On The Mumbai Streets (2025) • Kevin Wildes On First Things First: Buddy, It’s An 86-Year Window (2025) • Flatbush Misdemeanors, season 1 and 2 (2021) • Harlem, season 1, 2, and 3 (2021) • Haiyoe: Have You Ever Heard Of A Mountain Chicken (original and remix versions) (2022) • Louis Theroux: The Settlers (2025) • Invincible, season 3 (2025) • Once Upon A Time In Iraq (2020) • Paradise, season 1 (2025) • Patheon, season 1 and 2 (2023) • Primal, season 1 and 2 (2019) • The World At War (1973) • Tio Choko: Cowboy Thrust and When Your Uncle Gets A New Belt (2021) • We Are Lady Parts, season 2 (2024) • Why This Japanese Chef’s Okonomiyaki Sells Out In Minutes—And How to Make It (2025) • WWE: New Age Outlaws’s Royal Rumble Entrance (2000) | LISTEN: “Ordinary” by Alex Warren • “The Idea Of Her” by Ali Gatie • “Everyday” (original and slowed and reverb versions) by Ariana Grande featuring Future • “Forever Yours” by Avicii and Kygo featuring Sandro Cavazza • “How To Save A Life”, “Iris”, and “The Reason” by Barry Hendrixx • “2 A.M.” and “Take Care” by BigXThaPlug • “I’ve Got That Tune” by Chinese Man • “On The Day The Nazi Died” and “Tubthumping” by Chumbawamba • “Not At This Party” by Dasha • “Trop Parler” by Franglish • “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised” and “Whitey On The Moon” by Gil Scott-Heron • “Big Dawgs” (featuring Kalmi) and “Run It Up” by Hanumankind • “Jericho” (original and cinematic versions) by Iniko • “Don’t Walk Away” by Jade • “Just Got Paid” by Johnny Kemp • “Imithandazo” (original and brass band versions) by Kabza De Small featuring Young Stunna, DJ Maphorisa, Sizwe Alakine, and UmthakathiKush • “Power Couple” by Labrinth • “Laho” by Shallipopi • “Nairobi” by Marioo featuring Bien • “Unfinished Sympathy” by Massive Attack • “Extreme Ways” by Moby • “Morfina” by Prince Royce featuring Paloma Mami • “How Deep Is Your Love (Unplugged)” by PJ Morton featuring Yebba • “Do You Know (What It Takes)” by Robyn • “Breaking The Habit”, “I Miss You” (featuring Johnnie Guilbert), “Iris”, “Linger”, “Mr Brightside”, “Scarborough Fair”, “Somebody That I Used To Know”, “Sugar, We’re Going Down”, “Teenage Dirtbag”, and “Wrecking Ball” by Social Repose • “It Feels So Good” and “Sky” by Sonique • “‘93 Til Infinity” (original and remix versions) by Souls Of Mischief • “Calgary”, “Guilty Conscience”, and “Sports Car” by Tate McRae • “Bad Dreams”, “The Door”, and “She Got It” (featuring Coco Jones & GloRilla) by Teddy Swims • “Alert” by Tobe Nwigwe and Fat Nwigwe • “Beautiful Rain” and “Selense” by The Cavemen • “Herrera” by Yendry • “Bahamas” and “Stronger” by Young Jonn • “Hey Mr. D.J.” by Zhané | PLAY: Pokémon Shield (2019) | TRY: recommitting to the craft—anything that promises mastery places a high tax on discipline and perseverance. Shit ain’t easy, son. And it isn’t supposed to be.