There comes a time in life
A time of death, grief and weeping
And the clock does not stop ticking
For life goes on
The comes a time
Of loneliness, emptiness and sorrow
And the sun rises everyday
To symbolize a new beginning
For life goes on
A time of failure, struggle and disappointment comes
And hours turn to…
The Pain of Miscarrying the seed you looked forward to seeing
Miscarriage, you are a thief
Miscarriage, you are cruel
Miscarriage, you are a restless wanderer, searching for the warriors of this earth whom you can attack.
I am talking about our mothers, our women, our birthers
Miscarriage, you never consider, but do as…
I grew up in a small, run-down house on the village outskirts of Thohoyandou, a town where hope often felt like a luxury we couldn’t afford. Money was always scarce. My mother, a single parent with no steady job, worked tirelessly, taking whatever odd jobs she could find, just…
Trees of life
The sweet smell of oranges
Their juices trickling and dribbling down our cheeks
Wetting our throats
Quenching our thirsts
Its nectar tickling our buds
Providing of needed vitamins and great health
Beautiful and majestic indigenous trees
Nourishing earth
Soothing the ozone layer
Giving us life
So we can breathe again
Engulfed in their shade
Toxic fumes tampered by their…
My name is Godfred Enyan, but I’m popularly known as King Sobada from Ghana. I have a BSc in Administration with a focus on Public Administration from the University of Ghana.
I am a young Ghanaian using music as an advocacy tool to raise awareness about gender equality and women’s…
If you had told me a decade ago that I’d become a voice of creative influence in Uganda—while raising two sons, surviving the chaos of post production, and working on studying human rights law in Japan—I probably would’ve laughed, spilled tea on your shoes, and gone back to sketching…
Dear relentless love,
Look at what you made me do; I’m a pretty unfiltered fool for you. Through the epic ups and downs, through the tides that came with the deathly storms that rose high above the clouds, through the countless moments that got broad smiles converted from vivid frowns,…
I have fewer stories hanging on my gullet.
Untold stories of moments we shared,
and the laughter that quaked the room.
This is because I do not write in times of happiness.
I went through my pieces—
they carry grief like an infant,
cradled in my mind to this day.
Darkness overshadowed those moments,
or perhaps I…