Several times a day the same play features in the recesses of a collective mind while shying away from the intended message: “Stop the carnage! Stop the carnage! Stop the carnage!” Psychobabble in the audio world where roadside preachers yell out random truths to the suspecting mob. They know, they know, of course they all…
Black Photosynthesis
Deforestation isn’t just the cutting down of trees. It’s the cutting down of black women’s self esteem. It’s when you turn us into pretty furniture to sit on. Make textbooks out of our bodies And then use our broken spines to bind them It’s when you pull us out of the earth We were so…
Micropoems
Beauty There is beauty in stubbornness. in falling down, and picking yourself up Is it not the rising and falling of the waves that keeps the Ocean alive? ****** Find Yourself I provide you with water in a bowl, kneeling with love, Waiting for you to sip it all. Something about the way you Sip…
Beauty in Brokenness
Write about your brokenness This is what My heart whispers to me every time I try to create something beautiful. How ironic because most of my life I’ve been trying to find wholeness so I can finally feel beautiful. But what is beauty? Is there a formula that determines what we can classify as beautiful?…
Hypersexualization of the African woman
Fetishized My worthiness is measured in cup sizes and big booty. Integrity is dismissed and compromised. Body parts named policed and sexualized. They say: “it’s the sway of my African belle derriere the clumsiness of my breasts the fullness of my lips and the arch of my back”. Objectified by the media, my nudity is…
Soul Approval
I’m here to tell you a story about a woman who hated herself Not because she was poor or ugly Not because she was orphaned or homeless But she just did And I’m here to tell you a story about a man who hated his life He dreaded every moment of it Woke up each…
Since you attended my funeral, I’ll also attend yours
Since you attended my funeral, I’ll also attend yours I’ll arrive just before the coffin Enters the church And join the line of weepers. Weepers, mind you, not mourners. Weeping is the physical evidence for facebook That people actually cared about you. But mourning… Mourning is the spiritual evidence That people actually cared about you….
Pain: Who Am I?
Pain too has got beauty The beauty of pain is healing When healing comes Pain is remembered But Pain is not felt Pain too has got depth The depth of pain is lesson When lesson comes Pain is remembered Pain is felt Pain too has got malice The malice of pain is death When death…
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……
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…