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…
The Act of Valor
The world is going down Yet she stands firm, unshaken, unafraid Upon the surface stands nada but chaos, anguish, dismal Fear, compels souls to crack down like leaves Like a mojo the universe is casted to an intense pain The Armageddon at its zenith Is she the last lady standing? Calm is the ground she…
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…
Sarah Lubala
Sarah Lubala is a Congolese-born, South Africa-based writer. Her family fled the Democratic Republic of Congo two decades ago amidst political unrest. They relocated first to South Africa, then the Ivory Coast, before returning to South Africa and settling in Johannesburg. She has been twice shortlisted for the Gerald Kraak Award, and once for 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…
Take me to the river
We say “take me to the river”but what the river wants is the body of a stonethe kind of stillness that can be worn.It runs from its destructive natureand we run to its healing waters. What the mouth wants is wetnessa torrent of forgivenessto baptise flesh with abandon. We sing of the rivers of Babylonand…
Black Photosynthesis
Deforestation isn’t just the cutting down of trees. It’s the cutting down of black women’s self esteem. It’s when you turn us into pretty furniture to sit on. Make textbooks out of our bodies And then use our broken spines to bind them It’s when you pull us out of the earth We were so…
A Beating for Love
Your fist pounded my face In shock I stood there Not moving, not screaming The first time it happened You said you beat me because you loved me You put the blame on me I don’t remember doing wrong Your gambling and drinking Your womanising and flirting Your problems and woes Were all my fault…
River Styx
The Nile is a moving graveyard The ground is soaked up with blood The Nile has more skin than most The Nile? You mean river Styx, and what a price you have paid to cross it. The ground is shaking with grieve, The city is crying tears of blood, The streets are loud but quiet,…
(Blue) for Sudan
(1) Clutched my heart a terrible invasive grief. One of my father’s calling my skin its own, as it shed cries of mercy. Of a divine pardon. Of an outpouring rahma* to reach the lives lost to the march. Mourning settled in the veins. Of a country that bled in each corner, wounded dreams of…