Remote Control

Remote Control is science fiction of the Africanfuturist strain that knows aliens exist, quietly shows how technology is influenced by culture, features a powerful yet deeply-pained female protagonist, and wonders about the role of corporations in rural Africa.

In the shea tree farms of Wulugu, not the big city of Accra. In Remote Control, there are jelli-tellis, tvs made of gelatin that could be stretched and stuck to walls. Prayer Shacks, large walk-in containers with oriental rugs on their floors that block out all wireless networks so that one can truly be alone to pray. Traffic robots controlling intersections that are well-maintained and loved by its villagers. Mobile phones called “windows” that are thin as a card of glass. It’s a familiar world that’s a few steps into the future. And it is African. Ghanaian, to be very specific.

This novella puts us right on the road, walking with a Ghanaian girl who quickly understands her entitlement. You can look around, smell the palm trees and dust, and like Guillermo del Toro’s cinematic masterpiece Pan’s Labyrinth, Remote Control dances above the lines between young adult and adult without a care.

Remote Control will sink into your skin like the purest shea butter.

Read an except here

Remote Control is science fiction of the Africanfuturist strain that knows aliens exist, quietly shows how technology is influenced by culture, features a powerful yet deeply-pained female protagonist, and wonders about the role of corporations in rural Africa.

In the shea tree farms of Wulugu, not the big city of Accra. In Remote Control, there are jelli-tellis, tvs made of gelatin that could be stretched and stuck to walls. Prayer Shacks, large walk-in containers with oriental rugs on their floors that block out all wireless networks so that one can truly be alone to pray. Traffic robots controlling intersections that are well-maintained and loved by its villagers. Mobile phones called “windows” that are thin as a card of glass. It’s a familiar world that’s a few steps into the future. And it is African. Ghanaian, to be very specific.

This novella puts us right on the road, walking with a Ghanaian girl who quickly understands her entitlement. You can look around, smell the palm trees and dust, and like Guillermo del Toro’s cinematic masterpiece Pan’s Labyrinth, Remote Control dances above the lines between young adult and adult without a care.

Remote Control will sink into your skin like the purest shea butter.

Read an except here

Publisher

Tor.com January 2021

Photo by Fernando Rodrigues on Unsplash