Dear African Woman, If I haven’t told you that you are beautiful, you are. If I haven’t told you that your smile is lovely, it is. If I havent told you that your dark skin is more beautiful than the night sky, it is. Dear African Woman. Only you can understand what it means to…
But How Can I Be Me?
I am not who I want to be The only person in my way is me The lives of the ‘amour propre’ I see But how can I be me? I don’t want to die an arm candy I really want to be happy Happiness without being sappy But how can I be me? But…
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 there. Some sat with their chins in their…
Poetra Ama Asantewa Diaka (guest author)
Poetra Ama Asantewa Diaka is as a young and combative Ghanaian artist, living between the African country and the US. She doesn’t want to be boxed into the definition of “poet” or “writer” – she rather describes herself as a “storyteller“, since the term “encompasses all the ways she can tell a story” – as…
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…
The Honey Pot
Amina soaps up her breasts, her thighs and her derriere. Amina squats and washes her honey pot; it doesn’t produce much honey these days. Amina washes the suds from her hair and skin. She has used the expensive rose-scented bath oil that Fiifi gave to her on her birthday. He likes it. Amina dries herself…
Looking Forward
Hanging on small dreams the year folds itself in the tired sunset like a mimosa leaf It murmurs and screams new names old promises lies retold at this same place where songs are set on the loose in unplumbed laughter and tears we lay wreaths of frustration with no other option but to see hope…
I Don’t Ever Want To Get Married
– I don’t ever wanna get married. Waking up every morning and seeing mama’s face being painted with high resonant slaps from dad’s palms hurt my soul. He’d wrap his hands around her neck in pursuit to take her life ; heaven knows he beat the hell out of her. – My dad doesn’t eat…
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 Freely I move 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 dishes Those…
Melanin Queen
Her hands by her side Head down Shoulders dropped and eyes fixed on an unknown prize She snails by in fear Fear of pointing fingers and heart breaking laughter Those words like a butcher’s knife swims through her melancholic melanin skin She wonders if Odomankoma (God) painted her in haste She has blood for tears…