Excerpt - ZamaShort #1 'Piss Corpse' by Muthi Nhlema
EXCERPT
PISS CORPSE
MUTHI NHLEMA
Charlotte was an expat volunteer first introduced to Mbumba a few days after her arrival in Malawi — on a US Peace Corps assignment helping primary school pupils improve their command of English. Mbumba was her work-appointed chaperone from the US Peace Corps office whose role, despite a litany of official-sounding words, could be summarised as “keep the mzungu out of trouble”. A simple task that had grown in importance following the recent high jinks of visiting volunteers from years past. The classic being the Lake of Stars weekend pictorial spread of a Peace Corps volunteer, piss-drunk in an unlined ditch, wearing a t-shirt with an unflattering caricature of the country’s President with a Hitler moustache, all in the sharpened undeniability of high-definition colour. American efficiency guaranteed the volunteer’s swift deportation that same afternoon, accompanied with a quiet apology that never made the front page. This was an incident the US Peace Corps wished not to repeat, with the help of chaperone’s like Mbumba.
‘Welcome to the piss corpse,’ Mbumba said with a heavy accent, on their first encounter in the busy office lobby. The lobby was a hive of clumsy conversation between other volunteers and their chaperones who politely smiled, pretending to find the butchered Chewa greetings endearing.
Piss corpse? ‘I’m sorry?’ replied Charlotte, straining not to come across as rude or, worse, condescending.
‘Welcome to the piss corpse,’ Mbumba repeated, unfazed.
Charlotte’s face became a nodding mask of comprehension. ‘Ahhh! You mean Peace Corps?’ she exclaimed, placing strong emphasis on Peace while giving Mbumba’s shoulder a gentle squeeze.
‘Ah eh! Piss Corpse,’ Mbumba repeated, oblivious to the correction. Charlotte smirked, less at Mbumba’s innocent persistence, and more to a bizarre contemplation.
What the hell is a piss corpse?
They left the crowded lobby of first encounters and stepped onto the threshold of a country which to Charlotte, until a few weeks ago, was where the Material Girl kidnapped her children, and legend had it, had the best cannabis this side of the pond, allegedly. While she was mentally prepared for certain afrosyncrasies, African time prominent among them, nothing prepared her for the cultural whiplash that was to come, a constant reminder that she wasn’t in Iowa anymore.
Fahrenheit became Celsius.
Gas was fuel.
Directory was a phone book.
Fries were chips and chips were crisps.
Telephone poles were papered over with tattered posters promising the return of long-lost lovers in 24 hours.
Rush hour traffic was often worsened, if not by the hungry-looking (yet well-fed) traffic police, then usually by crowds of saggy-trousered vendors glistening from the midday swelter blocking the carriageway to mock two yelping dogs locked in a copulatory tie.
Malawian men often jay-walked with hands locked in pinkie-finger holds, in public.
Weekends were for weddings and, apparently, one’s knowledge of the occasion constituted an invitation.
Strangely, other azungu she did not even know, would give her nods of acknowledgement like a covert greeting of a secret society she was not aware she was a member of.
People used kilometres instead of miles, trousers instead of pants and, shrubbed their Rs into Ls and vice versa.
“Pubric toirets are for sorids not riquids”, was a particular tongue-twisting favourite for the expat volunteers and never failed to tickle Charlotte’s funny bone to no end, to the bewilderment of Mbumba who genuinely failed to see the humour.
‘C’mon! That was funny,’ a red-faced Charlotte assured Mbumba.
‘Learry?’ Mbumba replied before slightly sucking her teeth.
Disorienting as all this was initially, there was one particular Malawian quirk Charlotte instantly welcomed with open arms; she did not have to worry about the judging eyes of emaciated onlookers, with impossibly flat tummies and petite waists, as she packed on the calories. And pack them on, she did.
Fried chiwaya from the roadside. Oily mandasi in buckets, balanced on hawkers’ heads. Protruding bellies parading unashamedly down the litter-strewn jagged-edged city streets.
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“‘Piss Corpse’ is a marvellous debut in the ZamaShort series. The very best elements of short stories – characters immediately brought to life, a setting both familiar and defamiliarized, a tight narrative arc with a perfectly paced ending, and, best of all, the type of satire that makes African humour so brilliant.”
— Tsitsi Ella Jaji.
“Nhlema's prose is electric and fizzy, accentuating the absurd in this delightful comedy of cross-cultural confusion. You will laugh your head off and be wowed by this tale.”
— Tendai Huchu.
“Nhlema writes with wit and irony. I enjoyed this humorous take on culture-clashes.”
— Brian Chikwava.
“‘Piss Corpse’ is a story with an attitude. It might even be the right attitude. In its ferocity, revulsion at male oppression and corporate cultural garbage, and its weird and coruscating wit, it reads like a mixture of Celine and early Ngugi. Paraffin for wine drinkers.”
— Imraan Coovadia.
“With biting satire and irreverent humour, “Piss Corpse” dives headfirst into the messiness of cultural collisions, linguistic blunders, the pitfalls of performative wokeness, and the unexpected grace of getting everything wrong.”
— Ekari Mbvundula Chirombo.
When Muthi Nhlema isn't managing a non-profit or trying to understand his 12-year-old son’s obsession with anime. He is a Malawian writer best known for his adventures (and misadventures) in African speculative fiction. This story was written during his stay in the International Writing Program at the Universty of Iowa.
‘Piss Corpse’ was selected to be the debut short story of the ZamaShort imprint series of single short stories. ZamaShort is solely focused on the amazing powerhouse that is the short story, giving each short story its own publication so that it may be read and enjoyed and savoured fully as a stand-alone publication. As per the StoryTime Publishing mandate initialised in 2007, with ZamaShort will continue to champion and add to the ever-growing canon of African literature excellence and diversity.
Released 1st May 2025.
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