Book Review for Don't Judge The Book By The Cover by Modou Lamin Age-Almusaf Sowe

As part of events marking the official book launch ceremony and the unveiling of the award of excellence won by the author Modou Lamin Age-Almusaf Sowe, scheduled on 7 January 2022 at Ebunban Theatre, Kanifing, The Gambia -- the author is giving away 50 FREE TICKETS to the first 50 PEOPLE to write a BOOK REVIEW for Don't Judge The Book By The Cover.  

   About The Book

Don't Judge The Book By The Cover, as the name implies, tells the story of 9-year-old Fatou Sowe -- who turned out to be a good speller overnight, as early as the age of nine. Most people know that the word BOY is spelled as B-O-Y -- but not Fatou. 

Fatou, who has always been good to neighbors and guests alike, wakes up one day to discover she has turned into a good speller with the help of a magic pen. This beautifully illustrated storybook has been created to support learners who after acquiring the basics of reading and writing, have struggled to organically grasp the rules that govern spelling in the English language. 

To everyone’s surprise, she can now spell the most difficult words in the world -- and a few minutes, too! But will her extraordinary talent last? 

The short story centers on the theme (of childhood and education in African societies, African traditions, poverty, and the shared values of love, forgiveness, and unity.)

 To WIN a FREE TICKET to the event, you must complete all these four (4) steps:

1. Follow the author on:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/mlsowe2021

TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@agealmusaf?

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/modoulaminsowe1/?hl=en

2. Download and Read Chapter One of the Book on this link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1WiA8_rvb3c2rOWXRP24ykuocWbarGQ9OQvnuXhrvjp8/edit?usp=sharing

3. Write a short REVIEW for the book by answering these questions:

a. What can be learned from the book?

b. How does the book depict Gambian and African cultures?

c. What is unique about the book?

4. Post your REVIEW NOTE (just 100 words maximum) in the comment box on this blog.

Once you have completed the FOUR STEPS, send a WhatsApp message to +220 7791631 to be booked for your free tickets.

My special wishes to you! 

To schedule or book me for public lectures/ book launches/ conferences/ readings/ scriptwriting/ keynote/motivational speaking events, please email: modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com 

 © All Rights Reserved! Thank you for reading and following my blog. Should you wish to use any of my articles for research, lectures, personal use, etc.,.. kindly address your message to: modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com. 

Copying any of my articles without written permission is an infringement of Copyright.

The Return of the Nobel Prize in Literature Since 1993: Modou Lamin Age-Almusaf Sowe on Abdulrazak Gurnah’s Nobel Prize Win

The Return of the Nobel Prize in Literature Since 1993: Modou Lamin Age-Almusaf Sowe on Abdulrazak Gurnah’s Nobel Prize Win

If books were revelations, writers would have been prophets, and libraries would have been temples. But since revelation involved both books and people, the earth must be a reading place. ''Educating the mind without educating the heart is no education at all.'' — Aristotle. In addition, writers play a fundamental role in education and research, and to be successful in our globalized information-saturated world -- readers must not only acquire content knowledge in their selected disciplines, but also develop their ability to find, evaluate, and use information efficiently and ethically. 

Re-reading oneself to understand why one is read, spoken about, and seen as human - is an act of self-evaluation in education. In a race, one comes out first or second, or even last. But in writing, one does not need to come out first or second. But, of course, a writer has to be appreciated for his/her good work. What writing and cooking share in common is that they must both whet the appetite of their consumers. Abdulrazak Gurnah has come to show us that African literature is still African at its best. If I can understand Shakespeare, you can understand me, or Wole Soyinka. 1993-2021 talent beats knowledge, again. Humans aren't humanity's friends. 

African literature is undergoing series of transformations since the demise of Chinua Achebe in 2013. Most African writers residing abroad now write contemporary stories reflecting their influence and not their origin. Hardly one finds an African writer living in the United States or the United Kingdom whose writing has not been completely influenced by the environment he or she lives in. In the words of Chinua Achebe, the icon of African literature, ''If you don't like someone's story, write your own. Nobody can teach me who I am. You can describe parts of me, but who I am - and what I need - is something I have to find out myself.''

 The Nobel Prize in Literature returned home at a better time when the United Nations General Assembly Resolution (Ref.: A/74/396, 18 December 2019) proclaimed the International Decade of Indigenous Languages starting from 2022 to 2032 with a preparatory period from 2020 to 2021. Since 1993, Abdulrazak Gurnah is the first black African writer in 35 years to win the prize since Nigeria’s Wole Soyinka in 1988, the first black writer since US’ Toni Morrison in 1993, and the first African writer since Doris Lessing’s 2007 win.

In decolonizing the mind, African writers should always portray the importance of written and oral African works as key components of art in their work. Poetry is what speaks when the heart is too heavy to bring forth words. Stories tell us what we should be told about ourselves, but dramas are what both funnily hurt and entertain us when we are too inhuman to laugh for us humans. 

In recognition of our meritorious service to God and our continent, Africa, for a long time has witnessed various forms of moral crises in our social system, including the persecution of writers and the disappearance of journalists. If you stare too long at the past, you're going to see a gigantic and fascinating gap of silence and alterations in our continent's literacy history.

From the Realms of Darkness to the Gothic Fiction Age, not all American writers agreed with the Transcendentalist notions that the divine is implicit and that people are essentially good. Some felt that these views did not adequately take into account the darker side of human nature, the presence of suffering in the world, and the ongoing conflict between good and evil. 

For centuries, American Indians have relied fundamentally on spoken language for diplomacy, decision-making, and preservation of their history and culture. In American Indian cultures, spoken language mystically links the natural and spiritual world and has the power to shape events. 

 On the contrary, Africans have heavily relied on oral traditions for far too long to pass judgments and handed down their history from one generation to another. Of course, writers help in the preservation of the African cultural identity and, subsequently, the heritage which is almost always under constant threat of annihilation by the colonialist. A writer then takes the African story forward and exports it to the rest of the world so that it can appreciate that beauty. While countries like The Gambia and Senegal are yet to win the Nobel Prize for Literature, Tanzania and Nigeria have proven that the language of humanity is human. And to speak to the world, you must first speak in your native language. 

''𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠.” —𝐆𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐰. Our mind is incredible. What we tell ourselves is what we begin to believe, and our beliefs turn into actions. These actions turn into results, so if you’re unhappy with your results, you start by changing your mindset.

While many believe that Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie should have won this year's Nobel prize, writing is not a race to finish up with wins or losses. Writing is a specific discipline of thoughts and ideas. It is the only institution of human dignity where one writes what pleases him to please others. A writer must be read!

Written by Modou Lamin Age-Almusaf Sowe

My special wishes to you! To schedule or book me for public lectures/ book launches/ conferences/ readings/ scriptwriting/ keynote/motivational speaking events, please email:

 modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com 

 © All Rights Reserved! Thank you for reading and following my blog. Should you wish to use any of my articles for research, lectures, personal use, etc.,.. kindly address your message to: modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com. 

Copying any of my articles without written permission is an infringement of Copyright.

Letter To Satan : I am Not Sorry

Letter to Satan that I never spoke

Poems I thought about that I never wrote

Sentences on a paper that I never said

Listen to these stories that I must read

Dirt on my shirt that must be cleaned

Lyrics of a poem you've never seen

I am not stories that you heard, Diva

I was born smart since the time of La Divaz

I'm not sorry to accept the love I never had

Satan knows I am not Haddy Ceesay

I refused the Illuminatti, ask what she says

''Fly in the milk

Drink the milk and get rid of the fly''

I've been judged before I met George

They wanted to baptize me to Saint George

I've seen a lot

Been through hell and back

Front and back

But I've got a lot more to write than to say

I met Satan and all his fallen angels

But they all know I am not an angel

From the freezer to the fridge

ML is cooler

ML is higher, ML is Fula,

Gambian by mistake

Not a baby who feeds on cornflakes

I hustle with the muscle

My story is like Bill Russel

I lost my virginity in Virginia

To Queen Regina

Cali-Zantelate, gimme space, lemme ventilate

I'm not sorry 

To be my own stories

I've been through a lot

From doom to decadence

Right to wrong

Character assassination to hatred

Lies and accusations

Heartbreaks and deformation

Give me all these reformations

But fuck it, I hate this nation

And I'm not sorry

How can I fail because of people I don't know?

I write differently

In indifference

Living the present past of my future tense

My life is so tense with tensions

And I need no attention

I'm the author of my vision

Am on a mission to the vision

From North Bank to Western Division

Is the president

Sitting behind the Statehouse

Secretary with bigger breasts

Handing me files to sign

Giving me her sauce to dine

I am not sorry

I broke many hearts

Because they broke mine too

But I am not just sorry

I am not sorry that I do not sell my soul

I know you must not understand this blindfold

But everyone knows ML is just fucking bold

I am not sorry

To be born a Muslim

14 years later, I wrote my first book

I am an Islamic therapist

More extremist than an existentialist

I am a dinosaur

I find this cure

Before you judge me, analyze, read my blueprint

Did you see the winner as the first-runner

Writers of Satan, you see that in your country

What ancestors did they bring to the summit?

To give me what I needed, what they need to take from me

They needed my soul

But I am not sorry to be a Muslim

My special wishes to you! To schedule or book me for public lectures/ book launches/ conferences/ readings/ scriptwriting/ keynote/motivational speaking events, please email: modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com © All Rights Reserved! Thank you for reading and following my blog. Should you wish to use any of my articles for research, lectures, personal use, etc.,.. kindly address your message to: modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com. Copying any of my articles without written permission is an infringement of Copyright.

Love After Heartbreak Poem by Modou Lamin Age-Almusaf Sowe

I got grief in my eyes

Salt in my knees, sugar in my blood, hurt but still laugh

Fall in love but still love you, but love isn't kind

Musa, go but never mind

I shouted for a voice, not mine

Jumped ahead of time

I cried tears of patrol, seen nights full of you

Burnt into ashes, I hate the news broadcast

Tell that to the weather forecast

Some things are better off forgotten

But I better not forget you

I wished I never knew a version of love like yours

Do you wanna know how many times I tore myself apart?

Does it make you feel alive?

To break my heart

I had to die to finally let you go

The sun misses me out b'cos of your moon

To me, every morning is not noon, even this afternoon

A story gets rewritten so blasphemous

But I made Jesus walk, I am not afraid to go to hell

And you were so perfectly imperfect, but I love your imperfections

Bae,

I felt an exasperation of pain inside my abdomen

Your love was such a bad omen

But I loved you with all the torments

Reminiscing the moments of love

We kissed, the places we visited, the food I cooked for you

You met me heartbroken

You loved me and left me broken

Is this what love is all about?

After all the feelings you've awoken

I've got parts of me I'm trying to lose

My love for you, even GRTS cannot news

 I got my imperfections but love is not perfect

My love has scars I can't hide

This pain I cannot write

Hold on Bae!

Am tryna put you on the shelf to myself

But the voices in my head

Made me so sick in bed

But before I end, I cannot bend, I must, but pen

Depression and anxiety

Kept externally, surfaced on the outside

I need to learn to love myself before I can fall in love

I can't hold your heart when I'm fixing mine

 I wish you were mine

You know you got the key to my heart

Why break the padlock? 

If I ain't claiming your kingship tell me who deserves the title

I'm Oumie, am not Isatou, why date Fatou?

Your throat dry from the pain she puts you in

But you still love me and you know I sink you in

I'm inhuman for us humans

If I were not a witch, I would have been eaten by GAMBIAN lizards

I love you so much and is the picture I paint

Love me with all my imperfections

Much as you would like me to do the same for you

Thanks for visiting my blog. Let me know what you think about my writings. I really do appreciate your feedback. Ring or text +220 7204117/5951978/7791631 or email: modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com

Book Launch: AfriKa Not AfriCa by Modou Lamin Age-Almusaf Sowe

Two Days to my book launch: AfriKa Not AfriCa by Modou Lamin Age-Almusaf Sowe

Join me for a Q&A! I will chat about writing, living in general, and my new release AfriKa Not AfriCa! ( Wednesday 7 April from 4-6 pm GMT)

The event will be held live on FACEBOOK/ZOOM/YOUTUBE on this link: 

https://www.facebook.com/ukiyotopublishing/

To my most avid fans/friends/family members/clients/supporters who will go above and beyond for me and my book.

Potential readers who will buy (and, hopefully, review) my book.

My classmates. Colleagues I’ve worked with. Clients I’ve helped. And social media friends. 

You're all invited!

Thanks for visiting my blog. Let me know what you think about my writings. 

I really do appreciate your feedback. 

Ring or text +220 7791631 or email: modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com 

The Nightmare (Poem) by Modou Lamin AGE-ALMUSAF Sowe

The lady in red,

Her beauty unsaid,

She appeared to me in bed,

Rubbed my head to my chest,

And told me not to be vexed.

It was a nightmare.

At 3 a.m., it was;

"Listen to me, ML", she said.

"You're not them, and they are not you."

"Your spit is better than their souls."

"If you kill all your enemies,

You won't have friends."

"Divorce is not sweet when love is not dead."

"They say money is evil, but money can buy life," she concluded.

Responding to her voice

I blocked the sweet noise

Allowed her played me like a toy

In fact, I grew up; I'm not a boy,

Is ML, the Glote.

They made me a wizard and afraid of me

But I must eat them.

I fed on blood, and death is my cousin

Alcohol does not make me drunk

I write speeches like Donald Trump

Like ripples in a wave

My body, you enslave

Telling myself to behave

As you kiss me, I crave

For your touch

Wanting you so much

The sheets I tightly clutch

You drive me to such

Crazy heights

My body fights

All the sensual delights

I have you on my sites

Open my eyes

Feel you in between my thighs

My heartbeat does arise

Each moment full of surprises

You are inside of me

Emotions begin a wild ride

Our souls collide

I slowly guide

You deeper within

Pushed you out and pull you in

Intensity up and down again

I look into your eyes as I begin

Breathing deeply has just begun

Two souls becoming one

All the things our bodies have done

Hotter than the rising sun

Climaxing as I tightly squeeze

Grabbing you as I please

Biting my lips just to tease

I feel weak in my knees

I wrap my legs around your waist

Wanting so bad just to taste

You reacted with such a haste

I feel your climax as your heart raced

Never wanting this to end

The vibrations that you send

The way you made my body bend

From this love, I cannot defend

Tell me, Lady ML Sowe, are you Beyonce or Sasha?

You know me better

Like a broken sensation

Laid in the grave of gossip

The news they spread, lies full of houseflies,

Cheap flies, do they know my plight?

Am inhuman for us human

I got my foot on the line, am not racing

Who are they chasing?

Thanks for visiting my blog. Let me know what you think of/about my writings. 

I do appreciate your feedbacks. Drop a comment on the textbox below, ring, or text me +220 7791631.

 Email: modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com