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…
The Mirror
I look in the mirror. My reflection I expect to see. But what I see is not my reflection. What I see is truth! An image blurred with pain. The sorrows of the world. The troubles we face. Told as a story by the mirror. The stories. Never spoken. Yet, told in detail. By the…
Know your worth
Every time I was denied a seat at the table, I did not rebel. I walked away. Every time I was refused entry into a circle, I did not protest. I chose the exit and never looked back. Every time my potential was downplayed, I neither relented nor fought for permission. Instead, I stepped into…
Black List
Merge discrete metals to smithereens blacksmith who ain’t black and don’t smith Black Africa a golden ring with a diamond a diamond ring with a golden rim? I am Black not because I am African Black is what I feel an explicit soul speaking lingo a never melting candle lighting deeper character Africa is my…
Be the Dream
It might take more than a decade for you to reach your dreams Maybe half a century for you to rewrite the narrative and swim against the stream You determine the rise and fall of this era so don’t stay on the sidelines be part of the team Do the SWOT thing so you dont…
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…
I Forgive You
I forgive you for the silence you become in the face of awkwardness, anger and emotions. I forgive you for sometimes abandoning me when I need you the most. I forgive you for that time when I was seven years old when you disappeared. I forgive you for not remembering the things you need to…
Treason
How do I plead? Guilty. Today I committed treason. My eyelids separated before the birds could disturb the tranquility of the dark right after the morning stars stood bright and firm. I took my gun a BIC well-oiled with blue ink and my dog eared notebook and boom! I killed you Mr. President emptying seven…
This Loose Upon My Eyes
This loose upon my eyes Held tight in shape by society’s lies Reduced me to help Reduced me to help This loose upon my eyes Which society likes Trying to put these turkeys above me I am weak, I am starved, they might make a Panda of me They like me in this mud He…