Click to buy Print edition     Home Page African Writing Online Home Page  
HomeAbout UsNewsinterviewsMemoirsFictionPoetrytributesArtReviews

  Abubakar Ibrahim
  Arja Salafranca
  Austin Kaluba
  C. Mark-Beasant
  Chi Onyemelukwe
  Chris Mlalazi
  Chuma Nwokolo
  Cynthia Price
Dibussi Tande
  Dike Okoro
  Diran Adebayo
  Egya Sule
  Elizabeth Joss
  Fiona Jamieson

  Gertrude Makhaya
  James Currey
  Jarmo Pikkujamsa
  Lakunle Jaiyesimi
  Lauri Kubuitsile
  M. M. N'Dongo
  Megan Hall
  Melissa de Villiers
  Mildred Barya
  N Ayikwei Parkes
  Nourdin Bejjit
  Obe Mata
  Patrick Iberi
  Petina Gappah
  P. Makhanya
  Phindiwe Nkosi
  Raisedon Baya
  Rosemary Ekosso
  Sachdeva Gaya
  Tanure Ojaide

   Ntone Edjabe
   Rudolf Okonkwo
   Tolu Ogunlesi
   Yomi Ola
   Molara Wood

African Writing Archives

Mncedisi Mashigoane

  Obe Mata
Obe Mata

So home is this city steadying itself
against the river, against
canals crisscrossing
my eyes like the lines
on the palm.
So home is this city hugging
the limelight, hugging
buntings hung on
narrow, gabled

  Phelelani Makhanya
Phelelani Makhanya

Freedom was on special
I bought it
I didn't get a receipt
Now it doesn't fit.

African Writing is not all about writing. Sometimes, beyond the picture and the words, the poem is best conveyed in voice. We are also happy to receive your audio submissions alongside your text for our online editions. Please send (wav/ogg/aiff/wma/mp3) files to the  editor.
Sudanese Desert

      Elizabeth Joss
Elizabeth Joss

To father for leaving
me at the bosom
for raging wars inside
my shriveled heart
for not knowing me
like I know me

To father for staying
Put. Amongst the plastics
Of your factory
family life

Lakunle Jaiyesimi
Who cares what the houses
Do to them? To their heads…
To the heads of their children…
And together…to their buttocks…
Who cares?

Are we not all peasants
Driven away from the face
Of naked heavens?
Where all bugs bite deep
Into our famished skins
And storms and floods arrive from
Ocean floors, seething
…and flushing away all belongings.

  Patrick Iberi
Patrick Iberi

Life strikes a rhythm
And leave choices before us
To midwife celestial vigils
Or sleep on the other side
To awake no more

Life strikes a rhythm
Where tributes run dry,
The sea assail our hopes,
Now like rebels in a slave ship
They must fight or drown

    Chuma Nwokolo
Chuma Nwokolo
  and I saw ahead of me
the days when even ‘I’
would be a lie.

click for blogcentre

So, dear reader, cross the border and get Behind Every Successful Man at a good bookstore near you after June 1.
(Come on. You knew that was coming!)
Copyright © African Writing Ltd & respective copyright owners. Enquiries to