When I was young and naïve, I used to think that when a woman gets married God plants a seed in her belly which grows into a baby. How else could one explain why a woman’s …
Category: Creative Non Fiction
I am tired of bad sex. Now don’t get me wrong: throughout my twenties, I have had some of the most adventurous and thrilling sexual experiences. But this period also came with some very awkward, uncomfortable …
[This post was read at #Chalewote2016 as part of Timehin’s contribution to the panel readings and conversation. Thank you Timehin for your incredible contributions to the Spirit Women session.] It’s a bit ironic that I feel …
[Thank you and the spirits for responding to this call. The audience at Chalewote deeply appreciated it. Thank you Sokari for allowing your powerful images of Spirit Desire to be shared on this platform] Dear Adventures, …
I’m delighted that ‘Adventures’ is returning to #Chalewote this year with my love and co-conspirator Paula Azugibiwe who is all kinds of wonderful: a talented writer/editor, all round creative, and probably one of the biggest supporters of …
Recently I was having a conversation with some fellow African feminists and over the vino we were getting into issues of where and how to get your good sex and the issue of intersectionality came up, …
*This story is inspired by true events “That bitch!” Ilsa looked up from her cup of rooibos tea as Ryan stormed onto the veranda. He was glaring at his phone, sweating and swearing and sweating …
Death is… La petite mort. The little death. Sensations deep within me. Clenched muscles… A quickening of breath. Death is… Pleasure New bodies, new textures, new flavors. Death is… A renewal amongst lovers. Death is… Being …
There are a myriad of voices to be heard in a cemetery if you listen. There are contented sighs from people enjoying well deserved rest from their labors, gnashing of teeth by evil persons only remembered …
The feeling was good that night, breezy weather and music draped around a buzzing crowd, a beautiful end to the holiday. The man, let’s call him Dick, was not a stranger. He lived with a friend …