I met Kenechi Uzor a few years ago when he was up-to-date to publishing and launching his press, which focuses on publishing African writers. My own company, Catalyst Press, which also focuses on publishing African writers, was a little over five years elderly.
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We bonded over our similar visions for what we are trying to accomplish in North America and beyond: give a platform for African writers and promote African writers and books in North America but also on the continent of Africa. Since that initial meeting, we’ve had opportunities to collaborate and connect over our shared understandings and experiences of being a tiny, self-funded, independent publishing company, publishing primarily non-American writers for a primarily American audience.
To date, Iskanchi has had a sturdy focus on Western Africa, while Catalyst has had a sturdy focus on Southern and Eastern Africa. We both are committed to publishing different genres for children, newborn adults, and adults, and to publishing writers from all over the continent.
Iskanchi Press, based in both Utah, U.S.A. and Nigeria, published its first books in 2023 and is rapidly expanding, multiplying four-times the number of books it published in its first season. Catalyst Press—based in Texas, Maine, and South Africa—published its first books in 2017 and is also rapidly expanding, recently adding two imprints with a focus on science and place-based books outside of Africa.
Kenechi and I spoke over email about African writing, and the future of publishing.
–Jessica Powers
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Jessica Powers: What’s your perspective on the state of African publishing?
Kenechi Uzor: African perspectives are often excluded from the world discourse, sometimes due to a perceived lack of access. But African publishing is experiencing significant growth and transformation, likely a response to the enhance in the global appetite for African narratives, driven by a broader interest in diversity and “new” perspectives.
A tough distribution structure has been a major problem for African publishers, but a few Africa-based publishers and I are making invigorating plans to improve on this. Africa is all the rage right now in many sectors. As we have seen in music from the continent, I think we will see more dazzle and growth in the literary sector.
Jessica, from your perspective as a white American engaging with African literature, how do you approach the responsibility of accurately and respectfully promoting these narratives?
JP: The authors I work with are graceful in educating me, and I must be graceful in receiving it. Yet I will continue to insist on the universality of human experience. When we begin to silo ourselves off in various cultural camps, we do a disservice to the truth of life and the way art, from anywhere and created by anyone, has the power to speak to us.
A book that does well in the US or the UK easily finds its way into bookstores in Nigeria, Ghana, South Africa, and other African countries. It is much harder for great books published in Africa to make their way down to America or the UK.
So-called “African” literature is just literature, just as “Swedish” literature is just literature. I AM Okonkwo in Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe, and I also AM Okonkwo’s son, Nwoye. I understand the impulses that drove Okonkwo to defend what he held sacred, even when it would destroy the very things he held dear; and I understand the impulses of Nwoye to turn away from what was familiar and sacred to embrace something that he felt was more humane, even if it was ultimately equally destructive but in a different way.
We should be able to see ourselves in others who might, in both superficial and deep ways, seem very different from ourselves.
I’m curious, what is the reception to Iskanchi Press on the continent?
KU: Some of the titles we published in the US were already published in Nigeria, Mauritania, etc. For our titles originally published here in the US, we do have means to get them to readers on the African continent. Our plans for the future include setting up distribution networks and collaborating with local bookstores and libraries to ensure that our books are more accessible to readers across Africa.
A book that does well in the US or the UK easily finds its way into bookstores in Nigeria, Ghana, South Africa, and other African countries. It is much harder for great books published in Africa to make their way down to America or the UK.
JP: That’s one reason why I publish original works but I also buy rights to books published on the continent by African publishers. There are a LOT of great books. There are also amazing organizations and nonprofits out there like Short Story Day Africa building up a up-to-date generation of African writers. What are other ones you’re familiar with?
KU: We are aware of several impactful organizations such as the African Writers Trust, the Caine Prize for African Writing, and Writivism. By supporting these groups, we aim to contribute to the development of a tough literary community that nurtures emerging African writers and provides them with platforms to showcase their work.
JP: Do you think that African writing is almost always, inherently and by necessity, political?
KU: All writing is political because being alive and existing in this world is political. We die, we live, we react, we effect and are affected; we choose. We are constantly voting, consciously or otherwise. Literature cannot but be political, especially as it reflects, shapes, challenges or reinforces power structures.
JP: I put certain books in a very political category because it seems like they are exploring a particular position or advocating for a particular outcome. And I don’t think that’s the best impetus for literature.
So many of the children’s books published today are driven by a particular teaching intent—e.g., Feminist Baby, or Antiracist Baby. The ideological forces behind these kinds of books produce secular sermons. And while there’s nothing wrong with sermons, religious or secular, they aren’t particularly captivating to me, I don’t think of them as art, and they aren’t books I’d buy my own baby even if I agree with the overall message of the book.
I prioritize story/narrative, and books that are nuanced and allow for contradictions. They are driven by an exploration of the human condition. And yes, of course these works of art that explore the human condition influence people’s politics—but I wouldn’t say they are “political” because they’re not concerned with shoulds and oughts but rather exploring what is, for good or bad.
In the process, they give us tools with which to question ourselves and the world, but their aim and intent isn’t necessarily for a particular belief or outcome.
What’s the biggest thing on the horizon for Iskanchi?
KU: The biggest project on the horizon for Iskanchi Press is the expansion of our publishing catalog with ten up-to-date titles planned for the next year. This Fall we will be publishing the first of our children’s books, The Finish Line, by Ayo Oyeku. We will also be publishing our first YA fantasy, The Civilization, an amazing debut by K. M Mckenzie. I am particularly excited about our forthcoming African Folktale Series, and our anthology of Experimental African Writing.
JP: What’s something you know now about running a press that you wish you knew from the start?
KU: I learned quickly that the business of publishing requires much more than one just being a writer and an editor. To understand the business side of book production, I had to attend webinars, conferences, and the Denver Publishing Institute. I also got another master’s degree, in Business Creation.
One key lesson we’ve learned is the importance of a sturdy distribution network. Initially, we underestimated the challenges of getting our books into the hands of readers, but securing reliable distribution partners has been crucial for our growth.
Diversity has come to be very narrowly defined as publishing BIPOC and LGBTQ+ voices, but it should be bigger than that.
On the positive side, we’ve been pleasantly surprised by the enthusiastic reception of our books and the press. The reception confirmed our hypothesis that there is a significant demand for genuine African narratives, and this validation has been incredibly encouraging for our team.
What advice would you give to up-to-date publishers aiming to introduce more diverse perspectives into the American literary market?
JP: I would tell these publishers to get out of the two coasts—or to be specific, New York and California—and seek voices that aren’t part of our publishing echo chamber.
Diversity has come to be very narrowly defined as publishing BIPOC and LGBTQ+ voices, but it should be bigger than that. It’s also about diversity of American experiences and belief systems—rural voices, Appalachia, the South, the Midwest, the Southwest. It’s about publishing non-American writers. We need to hear what international writers have to say about life and the world. Publish translations.
And be generous in your reading of things even when it rocks your own belief system a little bit. Just because you don’t fully agree with something, does that mean it isn’t telling us something we still need to hear, if for no other reason than to understand the narratives that undergird another person’s experience of the world so that we can be more empathetic?
If it makes you uncomfortable, is it possible that you could sit with the discomfort for a bit and consider whether it’s something worth hearing (and therefore publishing) after all? As publishers, often we’re just following what is currently deeply popular in the publishing world. To be fearless is to go outside of that.
Joe Bageant’s book, Deer Hunting with Jesus, is a deeply sympathetic look at white working class religious rural Americans from a man who was a dyed-in-the-wool Progressive. It’s an vital book, but I wonder if he’d find a publisher today.
