GROWING up at Monte Cassino, a board ing mission school in Zimbabwe, I was surrounded by empowered young women eager to educate themselves.
The library became my sanctuary, and it was there I discovered Nervous Conditions, a novel by Tsitsi Dangarembga.
As a young girl walking through my educational journey, I felt an immediate connection to Tambudzai, the protagonist.
Years later, having moved across continents, from Zimbabwe to South Africa, then Scotland, and now Australia, I was able to identify with Tambu’s voice more profoundly.
Her story captures the complex interplay of culture, gender, and colonialism in ways I could not fully grasp at the time.
It is a book that evolves with you, offering a fresh perspective and interpretation with every reread.
Keep Reading
- Tsitsi Dangarembga, charged with inciting public violence, 28 hearings in two years
- Women tell own stories through film fest
- IIFF partners German women’s film festival
- Letters: Dangarembga’s conviction is a ‘travesty of justice’
Published in 1988, Nervous Conditions holds the distinction of being the first English-language novel by a Black Zimbabwean woman.
This coming-of-age story follows Tam bu’s journey from her rural upbringing to an education at a colonial missionary school.
Through themes of gender inequality, colonial oppression, and cultural dissonance, Dangarembga weaves a narrative that remains as relevant today as it was when it won the Commonwealth Writers' Prize (Africa Section) in 1989.
As an 18-year-old published author, I find that incredibly motivating, and I hope my fellow young women can also view this with an inspirational eye.
Analysing the book cover, I found its visual elements compelling.
The rough dark brown to light brown texture mirrors the harsh realities of colo nialism, systemic imbalances and cultural fragmentation.
The bold red text of "Nervous Conditions" seems to symbolise the courage and tension Tambu experiences as she pursues education.
Also, importantly I think it connotes the fear of breaking systematic barriers considering her background.
The resolute figure on the cover reminded me of Tambu’s quiet strength, her eyes reflecting the struggles faced by countless girls like myself, trying to strive in unfamiliar educational terrains and adapting to cultural shifts.
Tambu’s opening declaration is still viv id in my head: "I was not sorry when my brother died, "grips readers instantly, unraveling complex family dynamics and the weighty burdens placed on her.
I also hold the belief that it introduces gender issues as well, that stem from family level.
Moreover, the book highlights how as a mundane young girl in Rhodesian society, her aspirations are dismissed as futile, her family deems education for girls unnecessary, viewing marriage as their ultimate destiny. Yet Tambu’s unrelenting determination shatters these expectations, embodying hope and defiance against oppressive norms.
The novel’s exploration of gender is striking.
Female characters endure systemic and familial oppression, mirroring global struggles faced by women even today. The missionary school, while offering Tambu opportunities, also perpetuates colonial hierarchies.
Nyasha, Tambu’s cousin, exemplifies the psychological toll of living at the cross- roads of cultural and colonial identities.
Her internal struggles resonate deeply, highlighting the damaging effects of op-pression on the individual psyche.
After reading the book, I had a vivid dream that felt eerily connected to the story.
I dreamt of running away from a broken system, consumed by fear and a crushing sense of inferiority.
Yet, amidst the helplessness, I felt a flicker of resilience, pushing me forward. Waking up, I couldn’t help but feel a deeper connection to Tambu’s emotions, her quiet strength amidst chaos and oppression.
There is something sacred about this book — its ability to linger in your con- sciousness and bridge fiction with lived experience. Now living in Australia, Tambu’s jour — ney feels even more poignant. Like her, I strive cultural dissonance and the pres — sures of excelling in education as a young woman of colour.
Tambu’s resilience reminds me of Zim-babwean contemporaries like Varaidzo Kativhu, whose advocacy for girls’ educa-tion on a global stage reinforces that these struggles and triumphs transcend fiction.
Nervous Conditions is more than a novel, it is a mirror reflecting systemic barriers
and the triumphs of young women seeking agency in a patriarchal, colonial world.
For anyone looking to understand the intersectionality of culture, identity, gender, and education, this book remains an es-sential and timeless read.
- Gore is an 18-year-old award-winning author and environmentalist. She writes as a member of Trevor's Book Club.