Karest Lewela

‘The other day, as my drowsiness took charge, I heard the nurses whispering. They said how sad it was that I ended up this way. I don’t think it is sad. I think it is sad they think it is sad though. They said I used to be a lawyer – imagine that! Me! A lawyer! I told you I was bright. They mentioned about a generous pardon I had received from the Head of State (HoS). They also said I was very lucky, for I ought to have been sent to the gallows.’

It’s in the drop
Of water, rain water that turns into a pool
Breeding ground for jealous ambition
The domicile of lost and downtrodden faith

It’s in the drop
Of silence, pin-drop silence that becomes an echo
Laden with guilt from feigned friendships and half-truths
The emptiness out of years of self-patronisation

It’s in the drop
Of a beat, that swells gently into passionate frenzy
Exploring the vulnerability of my frustrations i...read more

I feel the intensity of the pressure crushing me
In this ocean of a world, I remain confused
Am I the gushing waves or the solid rocks?
However the perspective, I am crushed
Left wishing I were the sand, inconsequential
Indifferent observer in the war of futility

As the tide subsides
I wait impatiently for the wind of fortune
To carry the grains of my persona
With the unfulfilled aspirations of my father’s mother
I pray for the salt...read more

He picked up his tenor saxophone and played from memory Coltrane’s Naima. The style was not the usual hard bop. It had an overly intense feel, filled with staccato punches as if Blakey in his prime was teaching an Art class, pure drums and no cymbal. Most critics would have said he played like an amateur whilst the ones who consistently feign some form of enlightenment would have said he was borrowing heavily from bebop. It reminded him of his many struggles, most of them hidden under his eve...read more