I wrestle with my-self, With a battle of the mind which never ends, A race of thoughts which never Fades, I wrestle with the spirits in me Which feeds me doubts, Spitting darkness and unveiling lies, Tearing down hope With strange rhymes, Rhymes with strange rhythms, Rhythms which plucks my peace, Sabotaging my inner strength…
Self-Negotiation
The thought of physical contact has begun to scare you again. 1. One morning, in the middle of breakfast making, your mother’s relative reaches out and grabs at your breast. Your mind trips into your memory and you are seven years old and another woman is playing x and o’s with your privates. 2. Maybe…
The Plead for Change
Change! Change! Change! There was no response Yet I plead for change not to change Growing up, I thought my generation and That of my children are going to be the best But now, I strummer and stagger Yes we all want change We don’t know weather The change will be positive or negative The…
The Mirror
I look in the mirror. My reflection I expect to see. But what I see is not my reflection. What I see is truth! An image blurred with pain. The sorrows of the world. The troubles we face. Told as a story by the mirror. The stories. Never spoken. Yet, told in detail. By the…
Sseebo Gwe Wange (Sir, you are mine)
Ssebo gwe wange! You pound me like the engalabi I slap the wall to your rhythm Sharp, Unforgettable, you are lightening Subdued, I moan like thunder Your sweat erodes layers of my sanity I’m in a dream and shouldn’t wake I’m in a nightmare Ssebo gwe wange! You hold two balls of tropical sunshine over…
Wana Udobang, “Wana Wana”
Wana Udobang, also known as Wana Wana, is a Nigeria-based poet, journalist, documentary filmmaker, radio presenter and tv personality, whose production is at the intersection of women’s rights, social justice, healthcare, climate change, culture and the arts. Born in Lagos, she then graduated in the UK with a first-class Degree in Journalism. The experience in…
This Loose Upon My Eyes
This loose upon my eyes Held tight in shape by society’s lies Reduced me to help Reduced me to help This loose upon my eyes Which society likes Trying to put these turkeys above me I am weak, I am starved, they might make a Panda of me They like me in this mud He…
Forget (Arua) Remember (Pakwac)
Forget how the rolling hills stopped rolling and began unfolding into flatlands. You have left the badlands. Forget how the sky opened and left behind skyscrapers and scraped knees bleeding into pavement and how blood paved your way into estrangement. Your scraped skin already belonged to the streets and the wounds flowering on your body…
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…
The wife of the born-again Christian husband in Kampala
The faithful wife of a born-again Christian husband is a baffled woman. She will slap her cheeks with a Bible So that she doesn’t laugh at the jokes of a pastor. After all her husband is supposed to provide all the humor that is necessary. She will hold her aching thighs together and pray for…