African Literature and Lifestyle in One Pot
"The last time I tried to be happy, I died. Now, I wear my sadness like a crown, and like a cape, even like a lipstick."
I grew up looking down At my feet Afraid of my eyes And the truths that shine in them. _ Call me a stranger Call me blood and bone It doesn’t matter You killed me either way. _ I tell people I rose in love…
The struggle is between the person I was and the person I have become The battle rages every morning I stare at my reflection in the mirror and all I see is a beautiful, enchanting ruin Every morning when I wake up In that brief…
He was walking down the un-tarred road of Ishieke, this boy with a neat afro cut and chalk-white shorts. If there was someone walking along the street at that time, perhaps a teenager, said teenager would see him; this boy on chalk-white shorts and ripped…
The problem with the society of today is humungous, our social system has failed in numerous ways.
Society has this very narrow view on masculinity, one that I was a victim of.
He handed you a gun, “Shoot anyone that comes through that door, reserve one bullet for yourself, just in case.” Shoving the black pistol into your grip he grabbed you by the neck and kissed your forehead first, before your nose and then your lips. The kiss barely lasted a minute,…
