The Small but Mighty

My dwelling place is the river The great Oceans My storey building is the water body I breathe in the aqua like no other Full free I move about To and fro, to and fro I do not have an enemy But people choose me as one I am lovely Nice looking I make palatable…

Nya Ku Toc

It’s sarcastic how girls at seventeen, Who should have been singing, Baba black sheep or father Abraham, Are singing songs like, He has played me, he has played me. Trashed my heart, took my virginity. And so forth, and so on. And, and you wonder where kids learn songs.   This poem was inspired by…

Mother’s Touch

In the village compound which was cleanly swept and tidy a compound not easily accessible by road a group of old women sat huddled together. Sticks and pipes jutted out of their mouths which occasionally moved in unison. A sigh here and a look to the sky up here. Some sat with their chins in…

An Aquafer

I’m a solid rusty ground My chest A magma kind of rock But deep underneath it I’m an aquifer That runs a thousand feet deep Roaring silently Swirling quietly Like a tornado Waiting to come to surface An endless sea that takes off the land To evacuate no more Link to the Italian translation

vangile gantsho

vangile gantsho is a poet, healer and co-founder of impepho press. Unapologetically black woman, she has partecipated in literary events and festivals both in Africa and abroad. She is the author of two poetry collections: Undressing in front of the window (2015) and red cotton (2018). She holds an MA from the University currently known…

Brokenpieces

Screaming, yelling  Stop please stop, Don’t hurt her no more  She wasn’t built for it. Her body can’t handle it,  Or maybe it can, at least that’s what she thinks now. Just because a bone gets stronger after you break it, doesn’t mean it has to, The bone does get stronger, but it’s not the…

Hungry

I am hungry for a love my country cannot afford. I want a love that will buffer my mistakes even before I commit them A love that has mapped out the possibilities of my existence and made room for each one of them A love that doesn’t need me to clamour to identify as black…

Priscilla Ayuen

Priscilla Ayuen is 22 years old, she studies Business and Management Science at the University of Juba. Her pen name is Wingless Bird, a name she cherishes and means a lot to her, although she doesn’t use it when introducing herself on stage, where she is always and  completely herself. A stage she wants to…

Fast Phrases

Sun bleached white door curtain invites rest, To the hours spent on my butt now numb. Ducks waddling defecating the backyard Us on a mat them centimeters apart Eight hands are expertly pinching extensions to my scalp A humble courtyard with five rooms A commotion of tenants and the landlord ‘Bibi Dina’ The entrance is…

Hypersexualization of the African woman

Fetishized My worthiness is measured in cup sizes and big booty. Integrity is dismissed and compromised. Body parts named policed and sexualized. They say: “it’s the sway of my African belle derriere the clumsiness of my breasts the fullness of my lips and the arch of my back”. Objectified by the media, my nudity is…