This is the sinking womanwhose soul touched the ocean andcaused it to storm kisses.
There’s a thin boundary between the light and dark side. Both are fervent to reign in the space of the other.
Take, this day, my handand promise to absolvewhat my forefathers and I didto you and your kin.
Give yourself a break from any holy book andstart looking at others as you want to be looked at.
We are all angelic.Offspring of godly relic,accept and be prophetic.
Don’t break a neck looking up for God. Try looking down at inspiring human deeds.
There is a pleasure a bee takes in collecting nectar and piling it into a hive. It knows well that the chores involved in such a task will yield sweet results.
Then I saw his kind eyes, a comfort I desired. Then I saw his height, a knight I needed by my side. Then I saw his body, a man I surrendered to.
To eat Ugali is an art of adventure in itself. Forget cutlery because all you need is your lovely fingers.
I do not condemn either the rich or the poor, but the consequences of these two.
My thick and full lips shall pout their African ancestry until all sorrows are kissed out of me.
The joy of comradeship in this foreign land has been killed by silence and overprotection of personal space. I miss the chaos around me for it makes me realise that I am amidst life and alive.
My lips swelled with red freshness, my chest heaved proudly with a pair of pointed African drums, my face tempted with its sweetness like Kilimanjaro waters and my height spoke a language only a Maasai warrior knew.
Everyone these days is concerned so much with privacy and forgets the value of human touch. We still need each other but are scared of how it might sound or appear to the other.
May you grow to be a fearless and proud accepting-self human.
At times we are the worst racist enemies of our black selves.
A foolish mind would not raise an eyebrow when things are done diff erently in a foreign culture. An educated mind would try to understand the meaning of it all.
I refuse to behave fraudulently, as if I was anything else but African.
We should all celebrate the magnitude of diverse and unique souls that live in our world today, for it is an essence that makes our lives colourful every singleday.
Many years ago, I left my home country very narrow minded. Today I return with an educated mind, able to understand why my culture is as it is and still be very proud of it.
I am also open minded to embrace strange notions and respect its bearers without harsh judgement. Exposure has made me feel confident and wiser to choose what feels right for me, in order to be the best human being for myself and others.
Being able to experience and live the differences with sound judgement offers a chance to opt for what is right for one.
What might be considered loyalty in onesociety might not necessarily be the same for another.
Then I learnt of “white Christmas”, which again I found very peculiar since we always have a white Christmas at home for it never passes by without eating rice. That is our white Christmas.
Drooling over an African figure that I could never have, I feasted my eyes uponthe swaying mounds of my fellow African sisters.
What are the lessons intended in the stories we tell to our children today?
I was taught how to walk but I did not master the cheating steps of others.
She refuses to support the slogan – Men are equal to women – if this translates to her femininity being faded out or confused by trying to please a selfish idea of anyone wanting a woman to be both herself and a man.
She is a woman, how can you confuse her for a man?
The demons you need to get rid of are inside. But they seem out there because you left the window open.
To inspire is revealing the unpolished bits before perfection.
Writing is a lonely business, which if allowed publicity and socializing it might deteriorate. Supportive people understand the need of a writer to withdraw to the solitude of oneself.
Those trying moments teach us to desire greatness in ourselves and wider humanity.
Poetry is –raw feelings as sunny summer,fiery turmoil as vibrant autumn,daunting revelation as stormy winter,intrepid hope as blooming spring.
A badly written novel can always be shortened to a poem.
Gender is not only women and sexual orientation has multiple choices.
As a writer, the main skill you need is curiosity. As a reader, the main tool you need is open-mindedness.
Writing as a creative art flourishes only when there are no rules. Rules stifle you from entering the silent and forbidden spaces where the core of the story is waiting to be revealed.
No matter what justification you have for your feelings, you cannot wish harmful things on others.