A new kind of beauty to embrace and to celebrate There’s no room for shame here There’s a power that pushes through from within There’s a power that will push out and bring my bloody insides with it… But that’s something of a pain that I’d love to succumb to in a natural, agony-sedating, physical…
L.I.F.E.
Life’s like living just at the edge of a knife Incredible, yet sometimes one’s choice is not counted Fear, one’s likely to succumb to courage’s rarely remembered Evidently, life’s not how long you live but how well you thrive Life sometimes wants to be a dictator It can twirl and whirl without one on hold…
A Nation in Labour
The Republic is in labour Screaming pacing the political ward cursing the colonial midwife for telling her to push. Her head is spinning vision blurred mind inside out. She drinks a cup of counterfeit morality and blubbers a prayer of hope for the stillborn baby. The Republic is a headless chicken with a body that…
Tied and Untied
I wrestle with my-self, With a battle of the mind which never ends, A race of thoughts which never Fades, I wrestle with the spirits in me Which feeds me doubts, Spitting darkness and unveiling lies, Tearing down hope With strange rhymes, Rhymes with strange rhythms, Rhythms which plucks my peace, Sabotaging my inner strength…
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…
Marred and Mad
Every thought aches for a great reward From a massive heap of anxiety the cringing brakes stall Behind today’s chains of hustle in a young woman’s life As though it be un-enough she dared be seen and not just heard To fit in rugged spaces not designed for two Yet awaken tomorrow still judged for…
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…
Vanessa Chisakula
Vanessa Chisakula is a Zambian poet, who first discovered her writing wits after becoming a mother. She uses poetry as a tool to advocate for women’s rights and to address social issues like mental health. Vanessa believes in a world where art can bring a change by bridging divides and conveying the youth’s creative potential…
I Am a Woman
When I was little I desired to be a woman A very alluring woman Like a lovely violet To love and be loved O! I imagined. Now I am a woman What more can I inquire? Am I thrilled? Am I loved? Am I myself? Who cares anyway? I’ve learnt to be a woman…
Melanin Queen
Her hands by her sideHead downShoulders dropped and eyes fixed on an unknown prizeShe snails by in fearFear of pointing fingers and heart breaking laughterThose words like a butcher’s knife swimsthrough her melancholic melanin skin She wonders if Odomankoma painted her in hasteShe has blood for tearsShe is her mother’s dreamThat moment form the womb,…