Hosted by John Campbell, some of Word Christchurch's most distinguished writers respond to the theme of courage: Elizabeth Knox, Mohamed Hassan and Becky Manawatu. The first of two hours.

Listen to Elizabeth Knox, Mohamed Hassan and Becky Manawatu reading stories in the company of John Campbell at Word Christchurch 2020

Highlights of the session

Hosted by John Campbell, three distinguished writers read stories created for this event. Their narratives are deeply revealing about the authors' own lives, but also the state of Aotearoa/NZ.

From Elizabeth Knox:

Courage is a thing I find myself saying to young friends discouraged by reversals. When they are talking about confidence. How great it would be to have more. Confidence is the idea we've been offered as if life was all first things. I say, "Never mind confidence. It comes and goes. It can't be summoned. The thing you'll need, no matter how well you start, or how lucky you are, is courage. Not just for yourself, but to be at all useful, you need courage just to live."

For the past little while, I've been spending time with a friend who has the kind of cancer with bad statistics. Eleven months ago, we'd crouched together on the top terrace of her garden, brushing our fingers through the top leaves of her strawberry plants, feeling for the fruit. Five months ago, she'd be telling me about her treatment, or we'd chat about the district nurse who was changing the dressing on a drain, about Covid, or the National Party's hot date night out changes of leadership.

Three months sometime into the course of treatment, the course of conversation has slowed. Her words are stepping stones, and some are under water. We reminisce about family picnics in Akatarawa, how we found the stream overflowing, and looking down at the drowned pasture was like looking into another world where the water was shining air. "Are any streams that near pasture now ever that clear?," she wonders.

Her husband appears with her frothed milk and my coffee, and with both of them in the room, I asked after her father. Her father spoke at my father's funeral, at my mother's. My mother visited hers in the months she was dying. She and her husband don't have kids, but she has this nuggety, active, 96-year-old who remembers training as a pilot in the war, and being kept back to train war pilots while his brother went off on the bombers.

We have a hard time getting him off his childhood, my friend tells me. I've only had ten minutes on how he met Mum. It was her Mum and my Dad who met first. Helping another tramper across a swollen river. They just happened to arrive at the bank together…

Go to this episode on rnz.co.nz for more details