Posted: October 15, 2017 in Poetry
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You are .



Unable to offer beauty




A couple of month back one of my friends and I were approched to be part of an exhibition focusing on East African Arts. The exhibition is called Future Trends, a look into a utopian future where reimagined fashions, design, and architecture combine with emerging forms of technology to establish new desires. The Exhibition showcases work from emerging urban cultures using fashion, styles and architecture from East Africa. A future image of society is presented by playing with gender, sexuality and new forms of social exchange.

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Tainted love

Posted: May 25, 2017 in Poetry
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Previously tittled: I didn’t like the tittle of this poem so I changed it to this

Which was previously tittled: i hate you (IN CAPITAL LETTERS)

Which was previously tittled: dude, make up your mind

Because this poem was originally called

ANGER, bubbling emotions and burning hate

It’s sad when you try to extend a leaf to people 

to something you though was beautiful


all you get is thornes

all you end up with are bloody fingers

a broken heart


I loved you, at one point or another. I loved all of you.

Now, now the thought of you makes me want to write a poem to stop myself from thinking about the way I think of you.

So I am writing this poem to make myself stop from thinking about the way I think of you

and none of it is good.

and none of it is helping. 
Tell me

If you love with your heart 

and you hate something from the bottom of your heart

will that be considered love?

But then again, hate is a strong word. Hate takes effort.

Why hate something, someone when you can think of vampires eating vampires, 

the refugee crisis,

and squirrels!

You know, more important things than…well, you. 

I loved all of you, at one point or another

but not anymore.

You are tainted. Spoiled. 

All the memories of you, all three of you

have a dark cloud hanging over them now

casting a shadow on an image that has never been clear

and that has never been clearer

than now.

My bitten nails are clawing out the memories of you and there’s nothing I can do about that

they move with their own volition and you have made sure of that. 

You’ve inflicted a cut but boo, I have more scars than you would think is possible. 

You can count the marks on my skin,

the wounds on my flesh, 

the tear in my heart

and never make it till the end

you don’t know who you’re dealing with

So I write this poem for me

for the broken down me

for the still standing me

for the forever will continue standing me.

And I thank you

Through my words; the only blessing I can bestow on you than you deserve

Through this poem. 

I say I loved you

This is the last time you’ll hear those words.
And I hate you for making me feel so hateful

For making me bleed my emotions on to this poem

For making me write this poem. 

You’ve hurt me today

but you’re not gonna hurt me tomorrow

YOU have made sure of that!


you are tainted

you are tainted….love.

And if this was a film, I would point my fingers

dig you through the crowd 

and look you in the eye as I slowly walk away from the podium to my seat

but this is not a movie

So I just walk away from the podium to my seat

squeez through my closest friends


[Short Story] Fish Tales

Posted: April 26, 2017 in Short Stories
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They had lunch at one of those fish places at Arat Kilo, the ones whose business’ bloom during the fasting season; where people conflicted about religion come to indulge themselves in some good ol’ protein, a break from their usual vegan diet. Fishes are animals, no matter how much you convince yourself they are not. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know that, she thought.
They asked her about school first and she couldn’t master the courage to tell them that she quit. Read the rest of this entry »

Untittled Poem #?

Posted: March 20, 2017 in Poetry
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​Pain is a language.

I am fluent in.


were a good



Posted: March 8, 2017 in Poetry
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I have been reading Nayyirah Waheed’s beautiful poems and recently finished her book of poems Salt. I’ve never bookmarked a book like this ever before with every page making me shake my head, ‘aww’ and ‘Oh My God’, the last book I can remember that made me feel this way is another poem book, Questions for Ada, which now that I think of it is very similar with salt, adressing smilar issues. 

I know it was relesed a while back and I can’t believe I haven’t heard if her before this weekend but I am glad I do now. I was very very very, can’t stress that enough, inspired by her short but deep poems adressing issues of race, love, heartbreak, Pan-Africanism, womanhood… 

Anyways, here is a poem clearly inspired by Nayyirah Waheed’s poetry. 


Water dropped on my face

it tasted like salt.

Water dropped down my cheek 

it moved like the strong currents of 

the sea

that took you away from me.

like the sea between you and me. 


Posted: March 6, 2017 in Poetry
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Be yourself

cause ain’t nobody got time

to be you

for you