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…

You Must Know

You must know As little girls, we write about the struggles of our mums We glorify their pain as borne out of resilience in duties never understood The choring, the caring, the back-from-work, good enough to keep her a mother As little boys, we wonder what could be wrong with the masculinity of our dads…

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…

Ruddy Morfaw

Ruddy Morfaw is a Cameroonian jurist, writer and spoken-word poet. For over a decade, she has worked with institutions in the area of human rights, peace, development and corporate litigation. She has been a researcher and human rights activist with the Cameroon National Commission on Human Rights and Freedoms (NCHRF), Southwest Region, and she currently…

For the blues

It’s 4am and you’re awake like your body’s been paged. You’re wondering if it will be worth it to sleep for 30 more minutes before starting your day. They’re playing a senseless song on the radio and it feels like such a waste of airplay. So you tuck yourself in to rest your brain. You’re…

Bessie’s Lament

“Wherever you go, please don’t forget to take care of your sisters and brothers. Remember that you have a suffering family that needs your help.” My parents woke me up early Sunday morning to pray for me and bid me farewell with pieces of advice during our family devotion. I’d leave later that day to…

Her Place

Her place was in a four-walled room called kitchen  Broken dishes were the order of the day She had mastered the scents of the various nail breaking dish washing liquids she struggled with every time she tried to scrub the dirt away In this kitchen She was brought down to the level of a dishwasher…

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…

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…

My younger sister (How these things go)

She is the size of my palm the day I first see herwrithing in white slime, hair slicked backlike wet maize tassels on her head For a few weeks her skin shedsand we joke about how muchthe chunks of dead skinon the soft spot of her head, weigh When she clocks 18 she is a…