African Literature and Lifestyle in One Pot
Tell Africa, it’s time to wake up The yellow-skinned boy with hair like the white man’s chalk Is an albino Not an ingredient in the native doctor’s concoction Nkechi who lives down the street Is a beautiful girl with dreams Not just the little person…
Maybe we do not know how to write love poems for our fathers because language repels, holds us by the hand & leads us to the mere sheerness of a violent memory. Maybe a father is never an island but a bridge. Where a bridge…
{In memory of Chadwick Boseman} This rivulet and rivulet of salty drops flowing down my cheeks, blotting the calligraphy of the memories of the nights we sat on greenery at the heart of town under a lone moon, arms entwined like string…
It’s going to rain, and from the occasional hissing and rumbling in the sky, it sure promises to be a heavy downpour. The wind blows through your baggy clothes, sending freezing chills down your spine. Water droplets disperse on your forehead and trickle down your…
A REQUIEM TO MY FATHERS SHADOW IN MY EYES I am a fracture of water from my father’s eyes – like a drop of rain in the mouth of a spacious stream / I fetch my father in my vein – and named him D…
I can feel your disappointment At me, at what you have become You had so many plans and goals That 100 days writing challenge The stories you wanted to publish All of which I seem to have fallen short of You were so happy, so…
I look at the calendar on the wall; October 10. Ten months since Fred left home. He has not replied to my letters for two months now. Is he still alive? The thought flits through my mind, and I force it away with all my…
The clock on the wall of the yellow-painted room you own chimes. You take a glance and it is 6 pm. The time when your faith would drown again. Peppermint soaked in cold water runs through your bones down your feet. Soon, she will be…
PIERCING LOVE My placid face, Silently speaks of my pang. My belligerent thoughts Awakens me at night, Making my heart quiver and ponder. He steps in Like a gallant lion Ready to devour his prey. His malicious countenance, Makes my heart shudder. His titillating eyes…
Once were years when we gathered as brothers in the huts of our compatriots, breaking kola nuts in fellowship of the brotherhood; pouring palm wines in remembrance of the blood that binds us. Oh. Once were years, when we gathered, munching kola nuts, gulping…
