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This Silence Cannot Be All There Is

A couple of years ago, I wrote a blog post I titled, ‘Silence Does Not Suit Me’, an exuberantly defiant ode to my right to freely express myself as I chose. In it, I observed of the the self-doubt that often accompanies speaking up about things that are deemed unpopular or supposedly best left unchallenged, “You start to think that maybe they [the silent people … Continue reading This Silence Cannot Be All There Is

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So what do they really mean when they label you a ‘radical’?

What do they really mean when they call you a ‘radical’? Before I go any further, I am going to quickly disclaim that these musings are, in no way, academic or scientific. A question simply came into my mind Sunday evening as I planned for the week ahead and I decided to expand on it by writing about it. There is humour in this piece, … Continue reading So what do they really mean when they label you a ‘radical’?

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What Remains For Zimbabwe After Empathy?

The main traffic light that filters vehicles turning right from Harare’s Avondale Shopping Centre always seems to take an inordinate amount of time to change from red to green. And like many things requiring patience, this is a strange and testing phenomenon for motorists in a city whose worn and constricted roads are primed for daily aggressive driving and manoeuvring. For what feels like minutes, … Continue reading What Remains For Zimbabwe After Empathy?

On Reading ‘Teaching My Mother How To Give Birth’ by Warsan Shire

It is a cool crisp Saturday morning in bed. I have a backlog of reading to get through, which is always confusing and daunting to navigate. Which book is worth my time? Which one will make the effort worth it at the end of the last chapter? As I do my routine rounds on Facebook, I notice two friends’ posts about Warsan Shire. One is … Continue reading On Reading ‘Teaching My Mother How To Give Birth’ by Warsan Shire

Last Night I Gave Myself A Phone Call by Zibusiso Mpofu

Last night I gave myself a phone call I wanted to purge myself Hear my own voice lulling me to sleep Telling me to keep faith and hang my tears to dry ‘’They called me a fag again today’’ I heard myself say My voice hoarse, packed with weariness ‘’They said I’m an idiot for always being on my own’’, My voice breaking now, giving … Continue reading Last Night I Gave Myself A Phone Call by Zibusiso Mpofu

Getting Over The Bullying Years by Ruvimbo Janet Tuwe

We were on a family holiday in the Eastern Highlands in December of 1998 when my father received a call that was redirected from his office in Bulawayo. It was pretty urgent since it was a prestigious school in Bulawayo calling to confirm that I had been accepted to start my Form 2 studies with them at the beginning of the new year. To say that … Continue reading Getting Over The Bullying Years by Ruvimbo Janet Tuwe

Here Is My Body – For The 234 Missing Nigerian Girls

Here is my body, I’m giving it you to weigh on your market scales, to tell me the value of each pound of flesh; each coil and cuticle and cell of hair, skin, bone. You tell me you are making subtractions for my sex my colour my continent, recalculating the weight of my worth as the needle of your measure rotates backwards like a delirious … Continue reading Here Is My Body – For The 234 Missing Nigerian Girls