A review of Walking the Bowl: A True Story of Murder and Survival Among the Street Children of Lusaka, by Chris Lockhart and Daniel Mulilo Chama
By Lisa Carter
Narrative non-fiction stories have always held a special place in my reading heart. I find it such a privilege to be transported into the lives of others, inspired by how they face the challenges of life and appreciate the will that leads to their triumph.
Walking the Bowl was an even deeper honor to read and to witness than usual.
According to the publisher: “For readers of Behind the Beautiful Forevers and Nothing to Envy, this is a breathtaking real-life story of four street children in contemporary Zambia whose lives are drawn together and forever altered by the mysterious murder of a fellow street child.”
The story behind how this book came to be is itself nothing short of a dedicated miracle. Over five years, the co-authors and a small team documented the lives of street children in the vast slums of Zambia’s capital city. Lockhart, Chama, a graduate student and four former street children immersed themselves in the culture, taking hundreds of pages of notes and over a thousand hours of recordings.
When a young boy, who became known as the Ho Ho Kid, was found murdered at the city dump, the team dedicated their efforts to follow the investigation in real time and discovered a connection to many of the children they were already in contact with.
Lusabilo is a self-titled “chief-of-the-rope” at Chunga Dump, who has not only survived there for years but now wields a certain beneficent authority over other waste-picking kids. When he finds the Ho Ho Kid’s body, he is forced to assist the police in their investigation.
Along the way, Lusabilo is led to Moonga, a recent arrival in the capital, whose distant uncle never meets him at the bus station. Taken in by a gang of beggars who sniff glue, he becomes hooked but never stops dreaming of one day going to school.
Timo is a youth who just wants to control his circumstances, and the only way to do that in his world is as an ambitious, ruthless gang leader. His “street wife,” Kapula, is forced by her aunt to work at a brothel and hand over all her earnings. Exhausted and determined, she hides a few coins each day with a plan to take her little brother and escape the slums.
The connections between these four kids, each of whom ekes out a brutal existence, and the murdered boy is told unflinchingly, unsentimentally and compassionately.
As an American medical anthropologist who has worked in Africa for decades (the “white man” in this book) and a Zambian social worker who himself was a street child (the “Outreacher”), authors Lockhart and Chama knew they wanted to reach the wider public with this story. They wanted to humanize these individuals, rather than perpetuate the tropes or appeal only to a small circle of insider professionals:
“In the end, narrative nonfiction was the only possible answer. We also felt that the combination of narrative nonfiction with ethnographic immersion and the rigorous data collection methods we adopted was an immensely powerful approach. It not only allowed us to write about all the issues surrounding street children in a more mainstream manner, but to do so via the voices and stories of the children themselves.”
Powerful indeed. At least seventy percent of the dialogue in this story is direct quotes, and most events were directly observed by the research team.
I felt the stabbing pain of empathy for every one of these kids, abandoned by family and society, left to survive on their own in merciless conditions. Lockhart and Chama hold nothing back. They expose what seems to be an unsolvable tragedy of poverty and corruption, helped little and often made worse by the beguiling notions of growth, expansion and development.
Yet the story they present is ultimately one of hope.
In their preface, they say, “If you were to ask us what we hope you learn from this book, we would say we hope you learn a little bit about the day-to-day lives and realities of street children and a great deal about the power of the smallest good.”
Walking the bowl—offering what little you can to another—is at the heart of this story. It’s a tale the Outreacher shares with every kid in the slums and with the White Man. (If you would like to hear it, I offer a podcast reading
It’s a concept we know by many names: paying it forward, returning a kindness, sharing the love. It’s a deed the world needs more and more of.
Kapula thinks so too. Toward the end of the book, she tells the Outreacher, “I wonder how different things would be if everyone did the small things you do for us every day. Even if they only did one thing in their whole lives, especially if that one thing was passed on to others—like in your story. Myself, I think it would be a very different world.”
This book achieved its aim. I learned a little about others and a great deal about how I can live a more powerful life by offering the smallest good, a simple kindness to another, today and every day.
This is a beautiful, deep, impactful, necessary book. I highly recommend it to anyone with an interest in narrative non-fiction, memoir, Africa, Zambia, true crime, social issues, and/or inspirational titles.
May we all take its message to heart and walk the bowl.
Lisa Carter is Founder and Creative Director of Intralingo, helping authors and translators write and readers explore stories. Lisa brings two decades of professional literary experience, including nine books and multiple other pieces published in translation, and nearly as many years of contemplative and compassion practices to her work. Her inclusive, engaged, caring presence inspires people to share their stories, create new ones and feel truly heard.
A version of this recommendation first appeared in the BookLove Letter. Grateful thanks are provided to Hanover Square Press for the review copy.
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