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,…
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…
I Am Black
You look at me and see: Black African Evil. You turn up your nose and like a pig you snort… Or is it a sneer? Or maybe… just maybe… as you scurry away like a cockroach do you wonder what I am? I am Black I am African A child of the continent you once…
A Nation in Labour
The Republic is in labour Screaming pacing the political ward cursing the colonial midwife for telling her to push. Her head is spinning vision blurred mind inside out. She drinks a cup of counterfeit morality and blubbers a prayer of hope for the stillborn baby. The Republic is a headless chicken with a body that…
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 the 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…
When is it right to rape a woman
Why? Silenced cries Sealed behind doors of blame Her breasts linger out Like ripe mangoes Sending me invitations Her skirt barely covered her thighs Made my blood hot I said, “Yes, that’s why it was right” She wanted the piece of my manhood into her Thrusting thrusting When is it right to rape a woman…
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…
Sometimes Love
Sometimes love Is running for your life When your tanks are still full Of oxygen, When your heart is still alive, When you can still hear its sound Lub dub Lub dub Sometimes it’s saying “No more” And run for your life. Sometimes love Is choosing yourself, Is Loving yourself, Forgiving-yourself, Mending your own scars,…
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…
If My Heart
If my heart could grow You could have seen its seed Augmenting Pushing through the light Ready to produce fruits. If my heart could talk You could have felt the unfelt; The love, the fear, the insecurities, the hope, the anguish, the frustrations. If my heart could show You could have seen the…