They say dirty hands are sign of clean moneyA clean livingAs if dirty hands are a moral compassI don’t think they knew about youYou and your dirty handsDirt stained from hard labourThey are stained with innocent blood tooFrom the permanent scars your hands have tattooed on your son’s backThe blood
This is a collaboration between a Rwandan friend of mine, Claudine Karangwa Ingabire, and I. Just elaborating what a poet is, that we write because some people can. We hope to tell their stories for them. I Bleed Your Ink For my words that flow like a river With
Hey y’all, welcome to Women and Words Series 2.0 I haven’t been consistent in my blogging this year and I have been kicking myself for it. When I did GloPoWriMo last year, I made a promise to myself that I would do it again this year but life happened. Unfortunately,
Woke up on Sunday the 8th of July to hear the saddest news. A whatsapp message that said “Rae has passed”, most of us thought it was a prank. Rae was at it again, she was always one for crazy shenanigans and even though we only knew each other virtually,
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I’m a cryer, if there is even such a word. I cry a lot almost over everything, although I don’t cry over anything. Its been something that always worries me because the society I grew up in has a lot to say about it. “Crying is for babies.” Thought you