At the turn of the twenty-first century, three young people come of age in Tanzania. Karim returns to his sleepy hometown after university in Dar es Salaam with a new swagger and sense of ambition. There he catches the eye of Fauzia, who sees in him a chance at escape from a smothering upbringing. When the two of them offer a haven to Badar, a poor boy still unsure if the future holds anything for him at all, they little imagine how deeply their fates will entwine and diverge. As rapidly accelerating global change reaches even their quiet corner of the world, bringing tourists, technology, and unexpected opportunities and perils, each arrives at a different understanding of what it means to take your fate into your own hands.
There’s something almost disorienting about Gurnah’s narrative as he moves from one person to the next, willfully thwarting our desire to settle on a protagonist ... Delicate ... Karim develops into a dashing, volcanic, morally compromised character who catches the eye. But Gurnah’s heart — and ours — lies elsewhere in this novel. Writing a story around a young man as subtle and apparently insignificant as Badar is a kind of argument about the value of true character.
Gurnah’s stoic prose isn’t always well suited to the tragic, even operatic events that unfold ... Yet for all the narrator’s reticence, a satisfying melodrama breaks through. The story builds to an engrossing climax ... In Gurnah’s hands, however, theatrics are never an end in themselves
Gurnah’s penchant for generous scene-setting results in many of Theft’s lovelier passages, but its limitations are noticeable ... Injected with some clunky historical context ... We’re left with Badar, Fauzia, and something rare in contemporary literature: a happy ending.
