Felix Omondi: Maybe the Nyayo Era Wasn’t That Bad

I mean, people (still) woke up  dead Others disappeared then reappeared dead Our soon to be parents Still met up in disco (matangas) For a moment, swung their bell-bottom trousers To the rhythm of the wind. While they drank the konyagi of their time They spoke in low tones Of the man. of the man. of the man. of the […]

Ngwatilo Mawiyoo: Jacaranda as Love

These months the city purples with love: delicate, blooming all around to fall gently on the earth. These months we marvel at the beauty of decay, love persisting in the rains and their failure— purpling anew to fling itself off the tree again for glory. These months it seems love can endure.

avrina prabala-joslin: if poetry is a prayer, is a poem a dare?

if poetry is a prayer, is a poem a dare?   i tell you, in the sun tonight, there’s a prayer, the bark of a river i know since i came back i’m bones without a back, nothing glues them together,  i don’t hold, sincerely, i pray, what thin strings my mother gave me. forty years older, she stands, a […]

Eliseus ‘Zeus’ Bamporineza: Under the Moonshine

That day, around 9 pm, After a picnic at Jardin Public, Before I unlocked the door; Your eyeballs almost out, you gazed Upon me and left me dazed. Gasping as if chocked, you pulled me, Squeezed me, kissed my neck. Then you pinned me against the wall, You unbuttoned my long sleeve flannel shirt, Unzipped my faded indigo jeans, Slid […]

Noella Moshi: Love Like Breathing

I told my sister about the first time the squirrel kissed me. It happened after my shift at Cibar, where a tall sweaty man had used his stomach to press me against the wall. I clutched the card machine in one hand, his bill in another, while my eyes scrambled around the darkened room for help. Drink had made the […]

Stom Wabuko: Tired

Tired I’m tired of nights like this I wish the sun forgets to rise so I can drift into the dark world unknown and sleep till thy kingdom come   On nights like this, I wish nights like this never come   Nights like this drain me They leave me weak and desolate They overwhelm me   My mirror scares […]

Hamza Haji: A Little Lazy

So, who are you? She says with a crooked smile, A smile that doesn’t last, A smile that quickly turns into an anxious grin, Hamza, I say. WHO? She leans closer, I CAN’T HEAR YOU.   HAMZA, your grandson. She looks at my face for a minute, You are a liar; Hamza never had a beard, Hamza was not this […]