Book Review of "A Working Life, Cruel Beyond Belief" by Alfred Temba Qabula
Alfred Temba Qabula’s A Working Life, Cruel Beyond Belief is a literary work that strikes a profound chord, delving into themes of family, labour, and the harsh realities of apartheid. The book resonates deeply with me, especially in its exploration of family values and the intricate dynamics of the author's relationship with his parents. It is both a tribute to the struggles of the working class and a poignant reflection on the personal pain and resilience that shaped Qabula’s life.
One of the most striking aspects of the book is how it evokes a deep reverence for family, particularly for Qabula’s mother. Through his poetic and narrative style, Qabula manages to capture the essence of familial bonds that transcend physical presence, as seen in the poem "Mother." The lines, "But I still hear that soft echoing voice guiding my way forward," beautifully encapsulate the enduring influence of his mother even after her death (p. 17).
The narrative also offers a glimpse into Qabula’s relationship with his father, who is portrayed as a complex figure marked by the harshness of life as a migrant worker. This relationship is fraught with tension and misunderstanding, yet Qabula's reflection on his father's life provides a window into the broader socio-economic pressures faced by Black men during apartheid. The line, "He used to explode on us and hold us responsible for his harsh life, of which we knew nothing," (p. 21) speaks volumes about the generational trauma and the impact of systemic oppression on family dynamics.
Beyond the Personal, A Working Life, Cruel Beyond Belief offers an unflinching portrayal of life under apartheid, particularly through the lens of a Black worker. The book goes beyond the well-documented political struggles to reveal the day-to-day experiences of the labour force, many of whom were migrant workers subjected to unimaginable hardships. Qabula's narrative is invaluable as it brings to light stories that might otherwise remain untold, especially those involving the brutal realities of the workplace. For instance, Qabula describes the oppressive working conditions in vivid detail, recounting the dehumanizing experiences that were part of his daily life. In one scene, he writes about the intense labour required at the Dunlop factory in Durban, where workers toiled to produce goods they could never afford: "We made tyres of all kinds, of all sizes, for cars we never drive, for 'kwela-kwelas' that chase us in the townships and belts for bulldozers that demolish our shacks" (p. 7). This stark contrast between the products of their labour and their lived reality underscores the systemic inequalities that defined apartheid-era South Africa.
Despite being set in a specific historical context, Qabula’s work remains highly relevant today. The issues he raises about labour exploitation, inequality, and the human cost of economic systems resonate in current discussions about the labour market, particularly in developing countries where similar dynamics persist, albeit under different racial and economic structures. The book invites readers to reflect on the continuity of these struggles and the need for ongoing vigilance and activism in the face of exploitation.
Qabula’s artisanry as a writer is evident in both his prose and poetry. His writing is imbued with a lyrical quality that makes the harsh realities he describes even more poignant. The poetry interspersed throughout the narrative, such as "The Wheel Is Turning" (p. 118), serves as a powerful vehicle for expressing the collective pain and hopes of the working class, turning their struggles into timeless art.
However, the brevity of the book is both a strength and a limitation. While Qabula’s concise narrative leaves a lasting impact, it also leaves the reader yearning for more. The book’s conclusion feels abrupt, as if there is more of the story that remains untold. This is particularly true for readers who find themselves deeply engaged with the characters and the world Qabula describes. The desire for a more comprehensive exploration of these themes is a testament to the book's power, yet it also highlights a certain incompleteness.
A Working Life, Cruel Beyond Belief is more than just a book; it is a vital piece of literature that offers profound insights into the human condition, shaped by both personal and collective histories. I highly recommend it for anyone interested in literature, labour studies, and the history of apartheid in South Africa. The book’s emotional depth, coupled with its historical significance, makes it a must-read for those seeking to understand the complexities of family, labour, and resistance in a time of oppression. Despite its brevity, Qabula's work leaves an indelible mark on its readers, reminding us that the stories of the marginalized are not only worth telling but are essential to our collective understanding of humanity.