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african writers’ corner
Our lady of the trees
Natty Mark Samuels
2012-05-03, Issue 583
This short play celebrates the late renowned Kenyan environmentalist and Nobel Peace laureate Prof Wangari Maathai.
Ancestral Song
A Poem For Voices
2012-04-19, Issue 581
BAMILEKE: I am a Mod Ngam Man of spiders Often called a diviner. I am Bamileke Born in Cameroon Observing the Earth Spider. VOICES: He lives underground With the nature spirits Our ancestral messenger. BAMILEKE: Earth Spider takes his pick Movement of leaf and stick. VOICES (chanting): He knows the ancient ones. Earth Spider, tell us what you see; We await your diplomacy. DOGON: I am a Hogan Diagnosing for the Dogan, Sands of the Bandiagara. Come, Sand Fox There are sticks in the sand There is drought in the land. I invoke your presence; I am the Sunset Chanter. VOICES (chanting); Bandiagara Mountain of freedom For the Dogon of Mali. DOGON: Tell us Sand Fox Our precious visitor; Have we offended our ancestry? BAULE: I am called Komien Within the Baule My special pot called Gbekre. Once upon a time The mouse could speak Of that the Baule toast. Now he talks Through the movement of sticks For us in the Ivory Coast. KARANGA: I am an Nganga Throwing dice called Hakata; Made of wood Bone or seed. Between Ancestor and Karanga, I endeavour to intercede. Trusted and respected I divine, I pray; For the Karanga of Zimbabwe. VOICES (chanting): Ancestor, ancestor The Healer wants to talk with you. Whether with mice Or the use of dice Diviner wants to talk with you. ZULU: Being a Sangoma I also use bones. I am Nguni. That is the Zulu, the Xhosa The Ndebele and the Swazi. VOICES (chanting): Come with the bones, Sangoma Come as quick as you can Tell us of Unkulunkulu Are we drifting from his plan? ZULU: From Unkulunkula I received a special duty. Having done my training, Knowing herbs and animals; I can make the sacred Muti. I was possessed I did not choose this profession. Unkulunkulu called me, Through my ancestor, To be a healer of this nation. VOICES: Blessed Babalawo It’s not time for you to go. Here comes another someone With troubles in his head; I think he’s sinking in the flow. YORUBA: I am Babalawo With the gift of Ifa Giving to my people the Yoruba. A gift from Olodumare Through his servant Orunmila To me, here in Nigeria. VOICES: You with great knowledge of Ifa We beg you, do not go. Her illness moves fast Her days grow slow. YORUBA: I am a busy Babalawo. ZANDE: To raise them from their woes To reach the spiritual height I use what God has given us; Divination by the termite Two branches in one termite hill. One from one tree One from another. And in their eating Knowledge begins to gather. You’ll find us in the D.R.C The C.A.R. and Sudan- Those who are called the Zande. You will see us by the Congo As well as by the Nile, Praising the one called Onyame. POKOT: I am a Pokot elder From the land of Kenya, But just like Dogon in Mali Our divination, Whether by goat or by shoe, Is performed for us by an elder The elder of the older. Shoes of he who is missing are thrown. Like the Zulu bone The Yoruba palm nut The Maasai stone. We continue to interpret the unknown. VOICES: The longer you live you get closer to the Shrine Attracted by the Crucial Flame. We get closer to Creator, Called by this and that, God of a thousand names. Bamileke: Si Dogon: Amma Baule: Nyamien Zande: Onyame Zulu: Unkulunkulu Yoruba: Oludumare Pokot: Torontot Karanga: Mwari VOICES (chanting): Ancestor, Ancestor The healer wants to talk with you. Whether by mice Or whether by dice, Diviner needs to talk with you. ©Natty Mark Samuels, 2010
We are watching you
Benedict Wachira
2012-04-05, Issue 580
We were not there when you enslaved our forefathers We were not there when you showed us your brutality through colonisation We were not there when you forcefully stole our resources We know what you did to Kimathi, Kwame, Lumumba, Modibo, Barka, Samora, Sankara, Hani and all those who opposed your interests on our continent But that was in the past Today we were born, we have grown and we are watching you We are watching you as you continue plundering the Congo We are watching you as you steal our minerals through force when corruption fails We are watching you as you put up your AFRICOM bases in Djibouti, and your Lilly-pads all over We are watching you as you dump nuclear waste on Somali coast, and as you support their terrorists from behind the scenes We are watching you as you suppress our economies every time they threaten your hegemony We are watching you as you continue to corrupt and to compromise the leaders that your system imposes on us We are watching you as you succeed in brainwashing some of us with your powerful global media We were painfully watching you, as you negated the rule of law in Ivory Coast, through the gun We were painfully watching you, as you murdered our Brother leader, through the gun We were painfully watching you, as you took Zimbabwe’s economy to its knees Today, your killing instincts are leading you into CAR, in the guise of following some Kony fellow Today, your killing instincts are taking you into Mali, in the guise of restoring ‘democracy’ Today maybe, Niger, Nigeria or Algeria will be where you will sent your religious crap heads and divisive empty heads But what you may not know is that Today we were born, we have grown and we are watching you The Sankaras are in their thousands The Kimathis are in their thousands The Kwames are in their thousands The Samoras are in their thousands The Hanis are in their thousands The Gaddafis are in their hundreds of thousands Maybe you cannot see us Because the only avenues we have are the demonstrations, the blogs and the never aired press conferences Continue thinking that we are asleep, or that we are some ‘lazy intellectual African scums’ Yes, we are few in numbers, but what we lack in numbers, we compliment with our energy and zeal Our forefathers foresaw this age An age where you would view us as some backward people An age when some of us would view us as a lesser people That was why they left for us the magnificent Pyramids all along the Nile Pyramids that you once claimed were built by you, Pyramids that you today claim were not built by humans That is why they left for us the Great Zimbabwe So developed they were, that you once claimed that the builders came from elsewhere That is why the left for us the complicated underground structures all over Structures that make a child’s play of your subways and skyscrapers That is why they left for us the arts and cultures With rhythms that you cannot understand All these are a reminder, So that when we see them, we may hold our heads up high, we may be proud of what we achieved, and we may remind ourselves that we need to regain our lost glory, and bring humanity back into the world Just like the phoenix, our continent is burning, and the heat is preparing us, preparing us to rise Just like the lion, we will soon roar, and we will care for nothing, but our freedom and dignity We have studied your ways You use your military superiority to rule on us You take advantage of our goodness to splash your wrath on us You may not hear our voices, neither do we care We are organizing We have learnt from our past But most importantly We are learning from your past and present And when we rise And when the fire starts to burn You will realize that the generation has arrived And we shall not forgive, we shall have no mercy, we shall keep our Utu aside We shall use your methods to instill humanity into you A worse fate will meet your local stooges and puppets For we have seen that love can’t work for you And we shall end all this Once and for all Because we are tired of watching you 1st April 2012 9:36pm
Mona
Elyas Mulu Kiros
2012-03-29, Issue 579
‘Mona’ is a work of fiction, based on the based on stories of Ethiopian women who have been to the Middle East as domestic workers.
Shades of anger
Rafeef Ziadah
2012-03-08, Issue 574
'I am an Arab woman of colour, and we come in all shades of anger.'
For Katonda and Mukasa
and the people of the lake
2012-03-01, Issue 572
I come and sit here as often as I can. Beside the lake, under my favourite fig tree. To relax, to contemplate. Or if I have a problem, it is a perfect place to search for solution....
Defenseless, exploited, abused, and ignored
Elyas Mulu Kiros
2012-02-22, Issue 571
The plight of domestic workers in Middle Eastern countries and the lack of laws to protect them inspired Elyas Mulu Kiros to write a poem.
A small list of wonders
Emmanuel Iduma
2012-01-26, Issue 567
The project will bring together a group of ten emerging writers whose writing, it is hoped, will help construct a newer scope of African identity.
The definition of our era: the 21st century!
Lance Constantine
2012-01-11, Issue 565
This era will only adjust to accommodate to anything uncommon. And if you feel like the least likely amongst the rest - then you are the one. Because we live in a historical era - all you need to do is start and whatever you is great enough to leave a legacy and historical imprint - just because of the era we live in.
A Prayer for Bigwala
Natty Mark Samuels
2011-12-22, Issue 564
Dedicated to the remaining few, in Busoga, Uganda.
torture song
Devorah Major
2011-12-22, Issue 564
listen can you hear it pull the wires and plugs out of our ear sockets...
WHO
Nebila Abdulmelik
2011-12-15, Issue 563
Who assassinated freedom And buried it 10 feet under? Who wrongfully convicted justice And incarcerated it indefinitely? Who orphaned peace Scarring it eternally? Who crippled progress, Handicapping it permanently? Who overthrew hope And replaced it with fear? Who paralyzed love? Who?
1000 times
Nebila Abdulmelik
2011-12-15, Issue 563
1000 times before We said never again And here we are 1000 times over Again Making meaningless pledges Which you can’t consume Guiltily plastering your sores So that they may be out of sight And so out of mind But the benjamins don’t heal your wounds Rather they leave them festering Your empty bellies Swollen with sorrows over our empty words 1000 times before We said never again And here we are 1000 times over Again
thoughts on freedom
devorah major
2011-11-29, Issue 560
to not want some say that is where freedom lies to be always in the moment some say that is where freedom lies there is no freedom some say some say our world is defined by one creator who has determined the rules and regulations that c...
Song of the wretched
Mphutlane wa Bofelo
2011-11-16, Issue 558
We have no stereos Droning love ballads To lull us from our reality The only music we Know is the wordless symphony Of the buzzing stars The bright eye of the night Candles our hope We don’t know Various shades Of lamps and globes but We know the colour Of the moon The only show Our eyes can Afford us is The flaunt Of the rising sun & The display Of the falling night...
Tunisian Fire
devorah major
2011-11-03, Issue 556
For Mohammed Bouaz, the vegetable seller who set himself on fire December 17, 2010 in the Tunisian city of SidiBouZid.
I Almost Lost My SELF!!
Mama C.
2011-10-20, Issue 553
It used to amaze me that even though Pre-dreadlocked, Dressed in khanga from head to toe, Carrying my babies on my back Basket on my head Chewing sugar cane sticks And pepper sprinkled muhogo roasts… Just like everybody else…
Gong of death
In remembrance of Wangari Maathai
Dennis Dancan Mosiere
2011-10-13, Issue 552
The gong of death Is going to silence The life bells And snatch my soul Take it into deep wells Dark and unknown...
Dekha, Wambui, Wangari
(inspired by Wambui Mwangi)
Shailja Patel
2011-09-29, Issue 550
the greedy old men vampires live forever the women who restore rebuild replant remake die in their fullness...
Wambui, our warrior
Njeri Wangari Wanjohi
2011-09-26, Issue 549
The Mau Mau uprising Found you and left you You fought with the white man Like a man And won Wambui our warrior...
Mama Wambui: National ethno-feminist
My tribute
Dennis Dancan Mosiere
2011-09-26, Issue 549
In your struggle you exposed traditional chauvinism Seen through the mirror of self In your struggle, There was a sense of weaving a nation A true nation of humanity and unity...
A woman wears wooden sandals
Philo Ikonya
2011-09-26, Issue 549
If I sing you a song whose words You have heard in the west You will forget that I come from the East You will tell me that I am a confused Afrikan woman Who has learned from the west to sting with venom deriding cultures and speaking in borrowed tongues Failing to stem Lawino’s tide for all that sharpness Relying on papers instead of oral wit...
I too weep with the widow
Philo Ikonya
2011-09-26, Issue 549
Daughter of Kenya, Wambui, I weep with you. Why has your nation left you alone? In the moment of pain...
TIA
Nebila Abdulmelik
2011-07-28, Issue 542
It’s Cairo, Casablanca & Cape Town Addis, Abuja & Accra Ouagadougou, Timbuktu & Antananarivo Lagos, Lomé, Lusaka & Lalibela  Its peace and turmoil Order and chaos Evolution and revolution Anarchy and regulation Innovation and duplication Progress and retreat Static and constant change...
Verse for Nyiginya
to the people of Rwanda
Natty Mark Samuels
2011-07-07, Issue 538
I hear you talking of genocide and gorillas. But there is more than that to Rwandan history. In telling you of Rwanda, come with me into the 17th century...
We Have Come Home
Lenrie Peters
2011-06-08, Issue 534
We have come home From the bloodless wars With sunken hearts Our booths full of pride From the true massacre of the soul When we have asked ‘What does it cost To be loved and left alone’…
Prayer for Rain
Akwe Amosu
2011-06-08, Issue 534
These are dry days. I stop to breathe as if the wall of heat must be coaxed aside to let air enter, leave...
Bragging flea-ks
Dennis Dancan Mosiere
2011-06-01, Issue 532
For Al-flea-ks am using my ammu-diction to kill your lexicography…
Fahamu
Dennis Dancan Mosiere
2011-06-01, Issue 532
Afrika sasa tumefahamu Ni mwamko wetu na akili timamu Kusaidiana ndo ujamaa uwe mtamu Waache wanaopiga kelele Kwetu Afrika ni ngoma na si lele Kumbuka sera ya Mwalimu nyerere Waambie wale wasiofahamu Kujifahamisha watie hamu Huu wito usambae hadi Lamu Nairobi hata Mombasa Watamu Arusha na kule Dar es Salaam Kusoma na kuandika ndo chemichemi
I am revolution
Lance Constantine
2011-05-18, Issue 530
I am revolution, I am change. Effortlessly, I spring out as a tree, fruit representing the degree of the greatness within me. I am revolution, consistent in the movement, so history will change itself fluently. A speech can transform a country, and a deed can change the heart of a man, just like a seed of greatness will blossom even though there is famine in the land. Time waits for no one but it waited for me. I am revolution.
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