Bearing Witness: Justice & Betrayal in The Lions’ Den

This interview is a result of notes sent via Google documents between Kisumu and New York.

Akal: Iris, it’s such a pleasure to finally have this conversation with you. First and foremost, thank you for creating time and, perhaps most importantly, sending me a copy of your novel, The Lions’ Den. 

A couple of days before you sent the book, before you even reached out to us, I was talking with a friend about religion and the agnosticism that surrounds Christian theology, especially in this age. The Lions’ Den, even from the title, has sprinkles of religious allusions. The epitaph is derived from a book in the Bible- Daniel 6: 20-22. There are instances in the beginning where you provoke readers to think about divine laws.  Perhaps we could start on this note: What is the significance of religion to the human story? What does it do to our being?

Iris: This is a big and complex question. I can’t do justice in the short space of an interview, but I’ll try through the narrow lens of this book and one of my main characters, Grace. Every society has belief systems that guide on what’s right and wrong; foster a sense of identity as a community; and help explain why we’re here as an existential question. Where one is born influences these systems in very fundamental ways. Grace is Catholic but, being a rural girl, grew up equally exposed to a spirit world of ancestors. For her, these are harmonious beliefs, but once she arrives in the city, her exposure and education change everything. Grace’s priest, Father Sebastian, tries to ‘educate’ her that catholicism is good, and ancestral worship is bad (‘pagan nonsense’ to quote the old priest). In contrast, her legal education turbo-charges her natural tendency towards independent thinking. She taught me to ask the hard questions and to find the answers for herself. She’s not going to change her mind just because her priest tells her to. Similarly, she won’t accept the notion that divine laws, earthly laws, or societal rules shouldn’t be questioned or challenged— quite the opposite! For Grace (and for me), it’s important to interrogate who created these laws or rules. Who do they serve? Who wins? Who loses? Simply doing what one’s told by parents, elders, legal scholars, religious and political leaders means laws and rules that don’t serve the larger society persist to the detriment of the most vulnerable. 

Akal: Mmmh! I almost want to follow up by asking what, in your opinion, is the difference between ‘divine laws’, ‘earthly laws’, or ‘societal rules’, and which one of the three you would consider superior? If you are okay responding to this follow-up, please do.  

Good questions, but I fear this may be too much of a digression from the story for a short article. Shall we revisit them when the interview is complete and decide if it’s additive?

Back to your novel: Iris, you have roused my appetite for legal thrillers. I have, for the past few years, immersed myself in historical fiction, but after reading ‘The Lions’ Den’, I am now  ‘hunting’ for more African legal thrillers. Why do you think you were the best person to tell this story? Were you in a way trying to hanker for an African legal thriller? As reviewed by this publication? 

Iris: I guess I was hankering for an African legal thriller! Toni Morrison famously said, “If there’s a book you want to read but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it.” I took her instruction to heart, but found out the hard way that writing a novel is no mean feat! There are many exciting African thrillers already out there, but none are legal thrillers with a heroine quite like Grace. 




I wrote it, so that by default, this makes me the best person to write this book! I’m proud of finishing the novel, getting it published, and getting it out into the world. Although this is a work of fiction, I drew on my training and experiences as a law student and young lawyer living through one of the most critical periods in Zambian history. It was a time of economic crisis, political upheaval, and the height of the HIV/AIDS pandemic, but despite all the challenges,  I remember believing that I could change the world. Grace embodies this young, audacious, true believer, and her core nature is to do the right thing regardless of personal costs or bad odds. Although the novel is set in the late 80s and early 90s, the discriminatory laws and practices, persecution, and prosecution at the centre of the book continue to this day; as do the oppressive political, religious, and societal systems that enable and perpetuate the status quo. The fact that the colonial penal code criminalising same-sex marriage is still the law in Zambia is unconstitutional, contrary to the respect for fundamental human rights, and a stain on our society. 

Akal: It’s great that you refer to Grace as quite a heroine, and I do concur. We will come back to her. For now, I want us to talk about Willbess Mulenga. Do you mind introducing him to us? No spoilers, please! Hehehe.

 Iris: Willbess ‘Bessy’ Mulenga is a queer teen who is prosecuted under the above-described law criminalising same-sex relations. Grace meets Bessy—her client—only once in prison before he disappears, and so begins Grace’s quest for truth and justice. Because Bessy disappears early in the novel, the story is told from Grace’s point of view— so the reader goes on a journey with Grace and learns more as she searches for and uncovers the evidence she needs to build her case. 

Akal: Honestly, Iris, his silence concerns me. It is so profound that even at the end of the novel, I am left thinking, what was the meaning of his existence? What was his purpose? You created him. How did he first appear to you? Does his ghost still haunt you?

The inspiration for Bessy is a real story that ran in the local press about a boy who was attacked by a mob for wearing a dress in a market. That the article blamed the boy for provoking the mob left me shaken and horrified because it was clear that homophobia not only drove this horrendous attack but also erased the empathy for a child set upon by adults! This was the early 90s, and this story has stayed with me and haunted me ever since. I never knew what happened to this child, but I do know, from reading Human Rights Watch and other similar reports, that discrimination without adequate legal protections enables terrible injustice and violence against vulnerable people. In The Lions’ Den, Grace won’t allow Bessy’s erasure, and as the author, although I’ve told the story from Grace’s point of view, Bessy is the beating heart of the book. 

Akal: The story about the boy lynched for wearing a dress in the market reminds me of what one of the twins(Agnes and Eneless) says in the book: “People clap and even pay him to dance. He dances very well. They call him Zambian Janet Jackson because he’s usually dressed up like a girl.” Do you see the contrast in these two contexts? The mob in the street sees a body to be attacked for wearing a dress. The twins see a sibling who just wants to dance. Anywho, I would like to ask you about something that Avaristo says after Grace has lost the case. He says, “...because a dead body means a crime, a crime means an investigation, and the government doesn't want an investigation. This trial was about exposing an atrocity, and you did that.” Beyond criminalisation of same-sex relationships, are there ways that you think governments contribute to ‘homophobic cultures?’ 

Iris: Context can be important and can fundamentally change the way one interprets the same set of facts.  My hope is that travelling with Grace, moving through the world with her, and how she sees justice can open minds long enough to shift perspectives. Equally important is seeing the pain and suffering of the family and how hatred and discrimination destroy families, communities, societies, and nations. 

To your second question, absolutely! Governments do contribute to homophobia, laws are important because they are the ultimate manifestation of discrimination and remove legal protections. But it goes hand-in-hand with a narrative that condones and normalises hatred and discrimination against the LGBTQ+ community. One common narrative is that this is against our tradition and culture, which is nonsense.

Akal: There is the other thing that you have said: “Grace won’t allow Bessy’s erasure…” and this is seen in how much she puts up a fight. Historical erasure is a ‘discipline’ that I am currently obsessing over. Iris, why do you think that Grace is devoted to making sure that Bessy’s life is not erased?

Iris: Grace understands that erasure is a necessary part of injustice. There can be no accountability when there’s no evidence, and so destroying, hiding, or covering their tracks—as the police try to do—is one part of the equation; and alienating, othering, or vilifying a group or class of people is the other part. When effective, there will be both injustice and little to no public outcry or outrage for injustices perpetrated against them. 

Akal:  I agree that Grace understands erasure. But more than that, Grace also understands betrayal. Betrayal by her mother. Betrayal by the court. Betrayal by systems. Betrayal by the police force. Betrayal! Betrayal! Betrayal!  She is so pained by betrayal that she is convinced that betrayal is unforgivable, “no matter what Father Sebastian preached”–– a line from the book. Her response to betrayal is fighting. In fact, at some point in the book, Grace is defensive when an elderly character, Mrs Njavwa suggests diplomacy. 

Iris, do you think that diplomacy can be used as a rebuttal for/to betrayal, especially where a life is lost?

Iris: Betrayal can only happen when there exists a deep emotional bond, so diplomacy isn’t an effective rebuttal to such a profound and complex feeling. Father Sebastian preaches forgiveness no matter what the circumstances, which is what one might expect from a priest, but he does understand how hard this is for Grace, who nurtures her anger and uses it to fuel her fight for justice. Mrs. Njawva sees her young self in Grace and recommends a pragmatic way to navigate a broken court system by gaining allies to help her case. So my answer is that sometimes diplomacy is necessary and appropriate to achieve a higher goal, but not if it compromises your core values. Forgiveness is more difficult, but an important process to set yourself emotionally free from someone who has wronged you. This isn’t to say trust blindly again, or even maintain untrustworthy people in your life, but find a way to let go of that deep anger that hurts you far more than your betrayer. This person probably isn’t thinking about you at all, so why allow them any more of your emotional capital?

Akal: Finally, Iris, it has been a couple of months since we started this interview. I feel like we should wrap it here. But not before I ask a final question. So here it goes: In the last sentence of the book, you write, “Grace understood that her job as a lawyer was to bear witness to the atrocities of the past, and to keep telling the truth, the whole truth……” You are a trained lawyer; is this what you endeavour to do? And where, or rather, how do you find the intersection of your job as a lawyer versus your job as a writer?

It has been great talking to you!

Iris: I’m a trained lawyer, but don’t fight for legal rights in a courtroom like Grace. As a gender advocate, I try to find other pathways to change law and policy; exactly how is country-specific and part of my work, which is a long process to shift political and public opinion and norms. Writing is an important tool— although most of my writing consists of internal work memos and white papers, fiction is an exciting new way for me to advocate. I can engage directly with a wide range of people from many countries and hopefully, by getting them to care about my most vulnerable characters and root for them, open hearts and minds. When enough people say no more to discriminatory laws and practices, then comprehensive change can happen. I know it’s ambitious for a legal thriller, but that’s my sincerest hope for this book. 

Thank you! It’s been my profound pleasure. 

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AKAL is a Kenyan short story writer, essayist, and poet. He has previously been shortlisted for the Africa Writers’ Award in poetry. Akal is also a 2023 Idembeka Creative Writing fellow and Ibua Novel Manuscript workshop attendee. In 2022, he was a recipient of two digital residencies organised by the University of East Anglia, one of which resulted in a short story collection that he contributed to. Akal reads in trust and writes in faith.

IRIS is a Zambian/American author, lawyer, and gender equality advocate. She has law degrees from the University of Zambia and Cornell University and an MA and PhD in International Relations from Johns Hopkins School of Advanced International Studies. She has worked in global health and gender equality in global organizations like the World Bank and the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation, and earlier in her career at NGOs like CIDRZ in Zambia. Her debut novel, The Lions’ Den, was longlisted for the Center for Fiction’s First Novel Prize and was on the Times 100 Must-Read Books of 2024. She is currently on a six-month Sabbatical to write her next book.

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