<p>150 years separate two explorers of Africa: the Englishman<br>John Hanning Speke and South African Sihle Khumalo. Speke<br>set out to "discover" the source of the Nile, and Khumalo to<br>fi gure out what the hell Speke and men like him were after.<br>Khumalo's 2008 journey to Central Africa was not without<br>its challenges. First he had to outperform his famous<br>earlier trip and book Dark Continent My Black Arse. Then he<br>elected to travel, as before, by public transport only. Which<br>in practice often meant more transit and less transport.<br>Giving himself a mere four weeks, and propelled by a<br>frank fascination with the Victorian explorers, Khumalo set<br>out on a six-pronged quest aiming, inter alia, to ferry across<br>Lake Tanganyika, stand on the equator in Uganda, bungee<br>jump at the source of the Nile, or see if any mountain gorillas<br>were forthcoming (none were).<br>But it was his emotive visit to the Memorial Centre at<br>Kigali, epicentre of the Rwandan genocide, that brought<br>home elemental questions: What is at the heart of Africa?<br>What makes me an African? Where lies my centre?<br>Heart of Africa is the unputdownable account of a journey<br>that seldom went as planned. Khumalo's unfailing eye for<br>the good, the bad and the amusing in Africa, his refreshing<br>candour and his sheer cheek, make this book every bit as<br>delightful as its forerunner.</p>