Breaking Glass

By Saaleha Bhamjee

I expect fucking but this is nearly lovemaking. When he leaves, I am both emptied and filled. I sleep, curled around ‘his pillow’. I smell his hair every time I move. I miss the call from home. The kids want pictures of everything. This is the message they leave me.

Accounts of A Street Urchin

By Jude Mutuma

“Unadai?,” he asked you as he extended his arm to offer you a piece of half-eaten chicken wing. He was always so generous, Yusuf. You took the chicken wing quick and bid him goodbye. He just smiled at you, with that toothless grin.

P.S I Love You

By Sharon Tshipa

Clean shaven, woundless, all body parts intact. He sat upright on the time worn Victorian sofa. Uncle Madi had just arrived from war.


By Michelle Preen

My voice has shunned my body. I hear it over there, dissociated from my being.

“Give me my baby,” it says.

For Nwacheta

By Chioma Precious Ezeano

So, when are you coming home brother? Mama has stopped pointing you out to me in her photos, she has stopped making renovation plans about the house, she has stopped talking to the neighbours about her son Nwacheta living in America.


By Sandra Aol Oh! All these books. You should see how my face looks, it is as if it had been held by hooks, exactly like those of crooks. But then, when I think about the cooks and the cleaners, who never had a chance at these books, I forget my looks, hooks, crooks, and…

Street Lights

By Sandra Aol On the streets you will see lights, when you walk at night, you see them shine so bright, and everything seems right. But when you are out of sight you shall feel the fright, then you will need all your might because there will be a fight, where there are no street…

Lend Me Wings

By Kaigo Betty Wise words whispered into a weary ear are but salt in a fresh wound. The means is the end. Mama’s wise words, Walk, walk my child. Mama; I want to fly, lend me wings I want to fly. I want to skip stones, stumps, traps. I want none of; blisters, blood, anger,…

There was a Time

By Arach Sarah Atim There was a time in this beautiful land of ours when we worshiped the gods, till when the mediators led our souls to the ancestral spirits. There was a time when we danced to the sounds of drums, a time when we held so much pride in our Larakaraka dance. And…

Those Seeds

By Isaac Newton Ojok Those seeds watered by tears, are yet to bloom, for great tragedy forms life in which great recovery can take root and blossom But only if you plant the seeds One seed was wild, guilty of true love; it grew into lust Second seed saw no sun; it got the wind…