or asking myself why we love Sinking boat / you are my terminal / collateral damages are peoples / recovering from a virus /..
One gentle February campaign night in 1999, when the long overdue harmattan still ravaged through the city and all the wells were famished and the..
at base four, the sounds of waist beads are heightened by Fela’s Afro-beat a disco light calls you out from the dark like the..
(after rereading & with lines from Umar Abubakar Sidi’s What Bad Poets Do) “Bad poets hear the cries of strangulated beasts, the whispers of..
“I am gathering every dying piece of this body into a song and gifting it to the wind again, I am driftwood floating in the..
We were five women sharing a rented room in Nairobi. Five women with different nationalities and religions sharing two beds, one public bath and many..
mother, before you hallow my skin with kisses and warm tears tell me if I am a disease this world has made me so tell..
Alheri is standing on a ledge on the seventh floor of a seven-storey hotel she helped design. It was her who sat at a drawing..
By the time you read this letter, I would be long gone. You probably have most likely noticed my deserted room by the time you..
I have not read any meaning of blood that is complete, but the many meanings when they come together become one complete verse of belonging...
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