Harare, Zimbabwe – Sitting on a plastic chair, Kingston Dhewa stares intently at his smartphone, his thumbs jabbing furiously at the screen.
He stops briefly and looks up to attend to a customer at his outdoor fruit and vegetable stall in Budiriro 5, a busy, low-income suburb south of Zimbabwe’s capital Harare.
When the customer leaves, he grabs his phone and resumes typing in a Google Doc.
It’s around midday and the sun blazes mercilessly. Next to him, an elderly woman throws heaps of peeled and neatly cut potatoes into a gas fryer.
Loud local gospel music blasts from a solar-powered radio.
Dhewa presses on writing.
“Customers disturb my train of thought,” he tells Al Jazeera.
Dhewa has been writing for hours now and has to proofread before sending the latest chapter of his new novel to awaiting readers.
After carefully poring over the text for 20 or so minutes, he stops, highlights everything, and copies and pastes it to the WhatsApp messaging app where he sends it to his more than 1,000 followers.
Dhewa is one of the new crop of authors in Zimbabwe selling novels on WhatsApp to customers.
‘I could be writing more’
While some people write in English, Dhewa chose the local Shona language after he was inspired by other Shona authors. His books have a traditional, pre-colonial setting, and generally explore life and themes related to African rural life.
The 52-year-old first tried his hand at writing in high school and almost got published in 1992. But he could not afford the fees needed to publish traditionally.
When COVID-19 hit and authorities in the Southern African country imposed a national lockdown to stem the spread of the virus in March 2020, Dhewa found himself stuck at home. To pass the time, he read some stories that were being shared on WhatsApp – a trend that had started some years before, but really took off during the pandemic.
One group he had joined, called Read and Write, was a common group for budding writers and readers to share their work and recommendations.
“I felt that I could do a much better job [than the authors I read on that group], and wrote a story and submitted it into the group and people encouraged me to keep writing,” he tells Al Jazeera.
His first novel was well received and he earned enough money to pay rent and buy food for his family. He charged each reader $2 for the whole book.
Since then, Dhewa has written and published 43 novels via WhatsApp groups, he says – stories that range from 35 to 45 chapters long.
“I spend three to four hours writing a chapter on average. And I could be writing more if I had a laptop,” he says. For now, he is unable to afford a computer.
Authors like Dhewa begin by writing a story and releasing it on the app in serialised form, typically one chapter at a time. Readers interested in the author or genre typically join.
“I now have four groups that follow my writing on WhatsApp,” he says, as the app has a limit of 1,024 members per group and he has to create new groups to reach his readers as his popularity grows.
The first few chapters of a book are often shared for free to attract readers and build interest. Authors then promote their work on social media, including WhatsApp and Facebook, encouraging readers to join their groups and channels.
Thousands of readers
In the Budiriro 5 suburb of Harare, Clever Pada, a fan of another WhatsApp author, Pamela Ngirazi, opens and reads a chapter of her new book.
Pada runs a small tuckshop in the area where people sometimes gather. He is currently reading Ngirazi’s new book called Prior Replica, written in English.
Ngirazi, who has more than 21,000 followers on WhatsApp, is a full-time writer and very popular.
While Dhewa prefers sharing stories in Groups – that enable two-way communication, with all members able to send and respond to messages – Ngirazi uses a WhatsApp Channel.
Channels are one-way broadcast tools within the app that allow businesses and individuals to communicate with large audiences without the recipients being able to reply directly. Subscribers join the channel to receive messages, which can include text, images, videos, documents and links.
For chapters 1 to 20 of Prior Replica, Ngirazi shared it to the channel for free. But chapter 20 is her last offering.
“Prior Replica is now on sale from chapter 21 to final chapter and will be available on Boom Application that we will give you when pay for the book,” a message sent on the Channel reads.
The Boom Story app streamlines the e-publishing process, making it easier for authors and publishers to produce and distribute digital content.
Pada finds Prior Replica, which is a romance novel, quite intriguing and plans to pay to read the rest of it.
“It doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice now,” the reader says.
To access a full book, readers have to make a payment to the author via mobile money transfer services. Some authors also allow readers to buy their content by paying with mobile phone airtime.
Upon confirmation of payment, the author sends the full book to the reader, typically in PDF format, via WhatsApp. This ensures quick and direct delivery of the content.
e-Books market
Some 5 million of Zimbabwe’s 16 million people use WhatsApp. As of early this year, there are more than 2.05 million social media users aged 18 and above, representing approximately 22.8 percent of the adult population, according to a DataReportal Global Digital Insights report.
In a country where the economy has tanked and high inflation has eroded purchasing power for the majority, the high cost of data forces many Zimbabweans to use WhatsApp as a social tool.
Meanwhile for authors, the messaging app has proven to be a boon as they are able to charge directly for their services. By leveraging the app’s popularity, they are also able to engage and monetise their works.
With the rise of digital platforms and devices, more people around the world, including Zimbabweans, have access to e-books and digital reading options, such as e-readers.
But the economic crisis in the Southern African country means the majority of Zimbabweans do not have disposable incomes for such services and internet access. For instance, 250MB of data – which enables about three hours of internet use – costs $1. In comparison, salaries are not high. A teacher earns close to $300 a month while other average workers earn less.
“Of course, we can turn to Amazon, but how many Zimbabweans can buy stuff on Amazon?” Philip Chidavaenzi, a Zimbabwean author and publisher, tells Al Jazeera via a messaging service.
In 2023, the African e-books market was approximately $173.7m in revenue, with the average revenue per user at $1.47. By 2027, the number of e-Book readers on the continent is expected to reach 147.3m, with the market growing at a compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of 3.76 percent to reach $201.3m. User penetration in the African e-books market is forecast to increase to 10.7 percent by 2027.
‘Elitist’ traditional publishing
Despite the popularity of self-publishing on WhatsApp, Chidavaenzi does not consider it a threat to traditional publishing.
“This would not be considered serious because of the possibility of breaching industry standards,” he says.
“Publishing is a very sensitive area requiring a vigorous gate-keeping process to ensure quality control. Anyone can publish anything on WhatsApp, good or bad,” Chidavaenzi adds.
He says the industry has not been spared by what he described as the “economic scourge in the country”.
Zimbabwe is in the grips of a longrunning economic crisis characterised by hyperinflation that has eroded purchasing power, foreign currency shortages and soaring unemployment.
“Publishing is generally an elitist business, and relies on a market with limited disposable incomes that compete with bread and butter … Buying books is the last option after every other commitment has been funded from the available financial resources,” Chidavaenzi says.
In his view, traditional publishing has fallen victim to several economic factors.
Even the traditional cash cow of the industry, textbook publishing, has not been spared.
“Where we could find success in textbook publishing which, all things being equal, should be a cash cow, you will realise piracy has caused havoc in the industry,” he says.
It’s a point Weaver Press founder, Irene Staunton, a veteran industry executive, underscored earlier last year in an interview with Al Jazeera.
Staunton recalled that when she was at Baobab Books, the now-defunct publisher of prize-winning literary works, if one of their titles was a set book on the school curriculum, they could sell as many as 250,000 books. To illustrate the collapse, Staunton said when author Shimmer Chinodya’s novel, Tale of Tamari, was on the school syllabus between 2018 and 2022, her company only sold 2,000 copies in four years.
The industry’s demise has been primarily driven by the widespread illegal photocopying of books, which has reached epidemic levels in the country, rendering a viable publishing industry unsustainable.
Intellectual property
For new digital publishers, copyright and intellectual property may also become a concern, as copies of their works can easily be shared around.
“Zimbabwe’s copyright laws do cover literary works published on digital platforms like WhatsApp,” Jacob Mtisi, an IT expert, told Al Jazeera. “The Copyright and Neighbouring Rights Act of Zimbabwe protects the rights of authors, including those who publish their works online or through messaging apps,” Mtisi added.
He said authors can register their works with the Zimbabwe Copyright Office to formally establish their copyright and make it easier to enforce.
“Authors can include clear terms and conditions about how their works can be used, such as prohibiting unauthorised sharing or distribution,” he said.
Additionally, authors could watermark or embed “identifiable metadata in their works to track unauthorised copies”, he added.
Although the legal instruments to deal with the massive intellectual property crime in Zimbabwe exist, Chidavaenzi says that “enforcement is lax”.
The growing number of authors opting for self-publishing has prompted significant changes in Zimbabwe’s publishing industry. Emerging and lesser-known authors are more likely to use WhatsApp publishing, but some like Ngirazi have since achieved popularity and relative success.
Many of the most talented and established Zimbabwean writers are being published by international companies, primarily due to the considerable advantages they receive – such as higher advances, better royalties, and superior book promotion. International exposure also helps them build a global reputation.
But this is a far-fetched dream for most – especially newer writers who have leaned into the alternatives.
“Even if authors resort to WhatsApp, how much are you going to sell?” Chidavaenzi asks. “Can you sell enough to be able to purchase a house or residential stand? It’s impossible,” he adds.
For Dhewa, the serialised self-publishing on WhatsApp has made him a more efficient writer, he says.
It has also allowed him to share local stories that are dear to him with a wider audience. “I want the rest of the world and its people to know [and] love our culture as Africans and how we live as Black people in the rural areas,” he says.
As for his literary career, he hopes WhatsApp can take him places.
“I want to achieve literary success and recognition like that achieved by [popular Shona novelist] Patrick Chakaipa,” Dhewa says.
