Category: Creative Non-Fiction

  • Beneath a large tree are three long, meandering rows of white crosses. I imagine them being stabbing into the earth in succession, 1 to 147, perhaps 152? Each cross is a distinct colony of grief. Some have a flag wrapped around the necks, unlit candles at their feet or wax hardened in the pattern of […]

  • Ominously black, all buttons and interchangeable heads, the gizmo’s high roar was a thing of pure terror. Just like that, I was 9 again. Seated on a plastic chair with a towel draped over my shoulders, there was the familiar image of a blow-drier-wielding hairdresser standing behind me with the evil intent of straightening out […]

  • The man was given to loudly confessing his crime to every class of passers-by. At half past midnight, whether on foot or comfortably seated in their vehicles, everybody on that section of University Way got an unwelcome earful of woes from a guilt-ridden thief. His mind had lost its cunning. It momentarily suspending thoughts of […]

  • The crowd outside the chief’s office is restless. It has happened again. Sinewy arms hold hoes and machetes aloft; khanga-swathed, baby-carrying women bounce up and down in motions of protest and cooing. The occasional baa heard from the surrounding fields reinforces the fervour in which they cry for action. It has happened again—and this time […]

  • I tucked in my wayward knees, giving room to the women dashing up and down the corridor leading to and from the cooking area. A line of seesawing washcloths grazed the back of my neck and I ducked down my head too. Cradling my useless body to myself, I sat on a bench next to […]

  • *This is an account of a concert I attended in 2009 by the wonderful legendary drummer and singer and always young at heart; Bi Kidude* I smiled as I rotated my hips and waist,gyrating slowly,my pace even with her staccato Unyago beats.Her voice pierced my eardrums and fired up the sky,the air crackled…almost…as the maybe-centerian […]