Chastity, Virginity & Sex

This poem was first published on Brittle Paper. I am of the opinion that poetry need not be explained but to ease the nerves of my elders whom I interact with here on social media let me explain the inspiration behind “Chastity, Virginity & Sex.”


 Image by Johnny Silvercloud via Flickr

Continue reading “Chastity, Virginity & Sex”

Azania we will never be the Same


‪‎Barricades of land we call universities.

Devoid of the history of the soil.

The only place where culture exists

is in unrecognizable material,

Cherried on African studies curricula.

Continue reading “Azania we will never be the Same”

Blossomed. Blossoming…


Your words, your presence your laughter
What is purpose when it has blossomed?
what is death when the life that lived- breathes beyond the bounds of a burial?
blooming a breathing brimming interminable life?

Is it a loss when purpose has run its course and left its mark?
Is it a loss when death arrives with life having been lived?
Is it a loss when the sands of Gods precious thoughts of your life, now solidly stand
like tall towers of legacy
(thoughts that were written before the foundations of the earth began)

You are a summers bloom-a blossomed purpose
blossoming… Continue reading “Blossomed. Blossoming…”

I ran into the woods

IMG_20150310_0017 (1)

I ran into the woods when I heard you died

I sought an escape a place to thrust my heart to

I picked on leaves and sowed trees to hide in

My eyes feel sour from all the Bags of curdled moist.

This out-pour of cumulating tears

Continue reading “I ran into the woods”

Blue shirts, men deployed with strong arms

In light of the police violence to a call for educational justice seen in South Africa during the protests in 2015. This poem is a prayer and a thought from afar. Re-imagining the experiences of the students. Remembering the history and the context within which the protest was seen. South Africa, a country familiar with police brutality and protests. The youth of 1976 experienced the same kind of resistance. Sharpeville also. This is like a breathing beast. Fighting a system from the inside (internalized oppression) and the structural violence that lingers in University institutions, in the structure of the economy,  the spatial segregation and in the fading hopes of a ‘better life for all.

Class of 2015 you are indeed at the ‘cusp of something great.’

This too will one day seem like a tale, a history.

Continue reading “Blue shirts, men deployed with strong arms”

The joy of breathing among angels

Overnight we begin to refer to you as was and used to be

What remains in the now are the moments in the memory

What rests is the joyfulness in the laughter shared,

Like the yellow in the sun.

Continue reading “The joy of breathing among angels”

Shack Artwork & Reality


Paint me in red.

Flush me with beautiful colors.

Sell me in a frame for Tourists at the Green-market square.

Cover the corrugated iron in bright beaded embroidery.

Shape the edges. Continue reading “Shack Artwork & Reality”


Credit: AGI as seen on


Some days I wonder what it feels like

To be pressed in at the test point of history.

In Guinea, Sierra Leone and Liberia Continue reading “Ebola”


In light of the Xenophobic attacks. I have since wondered if calling killing a phobia is acceptable. Inactive language is a stab to our consciousness and very humanity. What good will the word Xenophobia, or Afrophobia do in awakening dead men. deaths by the dead… the dead black man kills

Continue reading “Xenophobia”

The construction of memory


Continue reading “The construction of memory”