I think of the divided self of Jean Rhys in Dominica, her invisible self in London, and the depth, scope, scale of her writing: What was achievable in her lifetime is achievable now, the winter’s tale of Jean Rhys, and her tragedy of errors, of losing a child, and her failed marriages. She was a…
Nyeri
I almost became that man’s second wifeI twisted my underwear here and thereI hynoptised myself that he was the oneI always thought of him. Whenever he sent me a text message“I suit you like the cover of a jerican”I would swing my hips to his tuneHe was my man. I waited for him at 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,…
I Lost My Teeth in a Fight
I. My father tries to kill me twice before the age of twelve. both times I’m a tiny thing on a floor. He breaks the branch of a jacaranda tree on my skin and I lose my voice. In both scenarios he screams: I will kill you. In both scenarios, my mother stands by and…
Child Not Bride
Under the silvery stare of the moon The children sat to listen to soul refreshing tales Beneath the starry blue skies, we laughed and galloped our ignorance of the world away It was in the nakedness of the breeze that I learned to smile my soul away And I enjoyed it A perfect peace But…
Nya Ku Toc
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…
My son Nok
You turn your head away“He is my son”, I say“He was taken out of my grip”, I sayHe learnt how to shoot with a gun. He shot from village to villageenemies we all becamelapena leaves couldn’t hide uswe were handed blankets, beans and poshointernally displaced we became. Then I heard he was dead.“He is my…
A self portrait
This is a portrait of a woman that was born in pain… and is longing for change… A woman with a rough kind of beauty… a one not easy to pick up, hidden behind all the easy common ugly… A rebel kind of woman… so much rebel it got me getting out of heaven doors……
Ada
Our songs are fading I’m almost forgetting the steps to our favorite dance Our voices are losing their depth I can hardly hear your soothing breath Ever since I left our land In search of that Oyibo money You’ve lost that your wantenten love for me Remember all things we dreamed Our young love was…
The Man We Married
They say good girls go bad ‘cause bad guys don’t treat them right A good woman is as scarce as a dog’s tears And I remember Marriage was never meant to be a fight but a period to garnish our lives I hate that I once loved but now I detest But please don’t judge…