I traverse this world as though As though I am not supposed to be here Not as a Christian with a view of her heavenly home No I traverse the world as though Permission must be granted Permission must be granted to sit in that spot Swim in that pool Of ignorance That paved open…
Good Morning Kampala
Clouds are racing above Kampala Sunrise peeps from the head of its hilly protrusions. Suddenly, rapid gun fire exchange invades our atmosphere Heavy feet scamper to find footing on our broken roads “Hooligans are demanding for change!” They say. Arrows of rain armed with hail stones join in the human pelting But you Rain where…
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…
Men-struation
You don’t know the history of my pain. I am Junub A woman in end-less men-struation Buying daily your pads to c-over and protect my skirt from stains I continue to bleed afr-aid to speak of my periods But now I say, “I am in pain, help me.” Silent guns shoot though…
Fixable
You are fixable Hold my hand and let me mend your brokenness. It will hurt less the falling and crushing You will get better at sculpturing your bits and pieces. I won’t leave. I’ll wait for daybreak and we’ll figure out what to do with all this sunshine. *** Link to the Italian translation
A Kind Of Architectural Grief
In the place of slaughter blood stains are not an anomaly. Normally, the stain of love begins with a government’s betrayal, a sacrilegious feast on the battered dreams of migrant workers chimurenga wars and forgotten anthems of freedom. a salary and a salt plea for…
Feminist Bloodline
As i grow up i learn that knowing what i want is the most valuable thing for a woman, Same goes to a man What i don’t know is why men always have the final say Why a man says what he wants in a relationship and i am to accept it. Good or bad….
Y’All Hear Me?
I know I will die on a cold winter morning. Winter withers me so it’s only fair that I believe my well worn weathered body Will wilt on such a day. Wrap me well, warmly. It’s the least you can do for a tropical wench Who died in a witheringly cold world. I will require…
The Broken Mirror: to teach people to hate themselves…
Who are you? I am Angel. No, really, who are you? I am George Stop playing around! I am Hanson, Ferguson, Manson, Johnson, Ellison I am… Zombie Lost in the ways of my people, my identity, my heritage I am the soulless black-white being that haunts the screens of materialism in the face of my…
Dark Skin Blues
You said that I represented evil. The shadow of the night glistened on my skin. You blatantly associated me with tar because my melanin glowed under the sun. You said that my existence was a misrepresentation of beauty. So, you wrapped me under your arm like a clutch bag and led me through the dark…