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  Akin Adesokan
  Amatoritsero Ede
  Angela Nwosu
  A. Quarcoopome
  Aryan Kaganof
  Chi Onyemelukwe
  Chuma Nwokolo
  David Chislett
  Domi Chirongo
  Eyitemi Egwuenu
  Firoze Manji
  Gabriel Okara
  Grace Kim
  Isabella Morris
  JKS Makokha
  Kangsen Wakai
  Khumbu. Mpofu
  Khaled Khamissi
  Linda Saunders
  M. Mashigoane
  James Currey
  Noelle Bolou
  Nourdin Bejjit
  Ondjaki
  Okey Nwamadi
  Patricia J. Wesley
  Paula Akugizibwe
  Phephelaphi Dube
  Rassool Snyman
   Sonja Porle
  Sumaila Umaisha
  Uche Nduka
  Uduak Isong O.
 
 


         Credits:
   Ntone Edjabe
   Rudolf Okonkwo
   Tolu Ogunlesi
   Yomi Ola
   Molara Wood

African Writing Archives

Current A.W.

   
   
    Eyitemi Egwuenu
Eyitemi Egwuenu
  
  JKS Makokha
JKS Makokha
  Grace Kim
Grace Kim


until someone, feeling suffocatingly entangled
in this knot of intimacy
shouted:
If a child dies
every time you clap

Then just stop clapping
  Paula Akugizibwe
Paula Akugizibwe
I’d rather hear hate loud and clear,
And feel its bite, and go from here
In honesty and painful understanding.
   
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.
lonepalm
  Uche Nduka
Uche Nduka

the burning soil has not secured our servitude.aint this a hoot.the wind and i tussle to get to you.to get to you.to kiss you first.to kiss you first.keen to reach seeds and deeds,both siegemaker and dream-ringer must answer to redemption’s summon
       
  Noelle Bolou
Noelle Bolou
Blood-tainted diamonds
         creeping along the gloomy streets of
         Seguela, Monrovia, Freetown.
Rassool Snyman

I buried my conscience last night
I wrested it from me
Dragged it to the pit and flung it there
  Angela Nwosu
Angela Nwosu

In deep sleep
I drink from the cup of agony and prophecy
The cup that turned mercy and love
into holy wine
and ask the muse of my soul
if the cross can exist without the lamp

  Domi Chirongo
Domi Chirongo
  Chuma Nwokolo
Chuma Nwokolo
she comes when the skies are overcast,
and hides like she did in ’67

when she watched her captive groom and clan dig their communal grave.
 

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!) Zukiswa
  
 
     

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