Few international cricketers have come to be defined by a single incident like Henry Olonga. Perhaps this is why his autobiography is refreshing when compared with those of his contemporaries. Most sporting autobiographies are written because the subject has a cricket story worth relating; Olonga's makes an excellent alternative read because he has a life story that's worth reading.

Zimbabwean cricket fans will remember Olonga for three things: being called for throwing on debut, that over against India at the 1999 World Cup and of course the black armband protest four years later, when he and Andy Flower mourned 'the death of democracy' in their country. Fans elsewhere probably only recall the latter.

By his own admission Olonga was an inconsistent bowler who never set the world alight, but he was more or less a mainstay in the Zimbabwe squad through the often heart-warming days that followed their admission to Test cricket in the early nineties. As the first black player to represent the country on a regular basis he became an icon similar to Makhaya Ntini.

Although Olonga did not come from such humble beginnings as Ntini, his early family life was rocky, affected as it was by divorce. Once he was settled in Bulawayo with his father and brother Victor, who would go on to play rugby for Zimbabwe, boarding school beckoned. Olonga has fond memories of his time there. Much like Alexandra Fuller's Don't Let's Go To The Dogs Tonight and Peter Godwin's Mukiwa, Olonga's book will provide fond memories for those who grew up in the country and an insight into that world for those who didn't.

When it comes to recounting his journey with the Zimbabwe national side, Olonga's story is unique in that his is the first book to detail that period. It is therefore not widely known that Alistair Campbell saved his life during a tour of Sri Lanka when the sea threatened to carry Olonga away, or that he was involved in a verbal altercation over racist utterances by a white teammate.

They were interesting times for Zimbabwe cricket, which was plotting its way through a period in which racial transformation and player incomes were controversial issues. Olonga tells his version of events candidly, without fear of upsetting those who were involved.

Then of course there was the black armband protest, the event by which Olonga's life came to be defined. Olonga explains the process involved in coming to the decision with Andy Flower, the uncertainty he faced over his security and the relief when rain helped Zimbabwe qualify for the second round, thus allowing him safe passage out of Zimbabwe.

His subsequent exile in England would have crushed many a spirit, but Olonga has no regrets. He is fond of Edmund Burke's saying that: "All that is required for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing." Olonga's stance might not have equalled those of Zimbabweans who were tortured or lost their lives in the name of political freedom, but Zimbabwe's plight suggests there were also many more people who failed to match his efforts. Certainly his story is one worth reading.

Tristan Holme