Pradeep, a police officer based in Benoni, South Africa, grew weary of his monotonous routine. In search of thrill, he devised a bold scheme to rob a bank.
He booked an early flight from Johannesburg to Durban, rented a car upon landing, and made his way to a nearby bank. Before leaving his vehicle, he put on a wig and a fake beard. Once inside the bank, he pointed his gun at the teller, insisting she fill his bag with cash. After successfully obtaining the money, he quickly left and caught the next flight back to Johannesburg.
The robbery went off seamlessly, leaving Pradeep buzzing with excitement. This thrill ignited a series of plans for more bank robberies, one after another, until he was frequently flying to Durban on his days off to execute yet another daring theft. He even started hitting up local banks in Johannesburg during his lunch breaks. With his ingenious disguises, he could pull off the crime and then seamlessly return to the area, leaving witnesses completely unaware that he was the very person they were describing.
Pradeep had honed his skills in bank robbery to perfection; he was intimately familiar with the intricacies of bank security systems, allowing him to dodge capture time after time. Over the course of four thrilling years, he successfully executed heists at around 30 different banks, with each adventure delivering an adrenaline-fuelled thrill.
One fateful evening, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. At a vibrant party, he indulged a bit too much in the drinks and struck up a conversation with his buddy Larry. Fuelled by a surge of confidence, he started bragging to Larry about his latest bank heists, insisting he was a master in the art of robbery.
Larry worked for SAMBO, a branch of the South African Police Service focused on combating organised crime, economic offences, and corruption. Bound by his oath and the responsibilities of his role, he realised he could not stay silent about the secret and chose to bring it to the attention of his superiors.
Upon Pradeep's return from Durban, having just pulled off another bank heist, the police were poised and ready at the baggage claim. He was taken into custody and sentenced to 18 years in prison. However, Pradeep wasn't about to give up; he began devising his escape plan even as the judge delivered his verdict.
While he was incarcerated, he crossed paths with a man named Mpande, and shortly thereafter, he met another fellow inmate named Fanie. Both were serving sentences for robbery, and before long, the trio developed a solid friendship that would see them through their time behind bars.
After nearly three years of incarceration, the trio concocted a bold escape strategy. They initiated their plan by having Pradeep and Mpande feign injuries, successfully persuading the prison guards to escort them to an external physiotherapist for care. Upon arrival, they seized the moment, overpowering the guards and taking their firearms. Armed with the guards' weapons, they commandeered the physiotherapist's vehicle and made a thrilling escape. Following their flight, they opted to lay low for some time.
Several months went by, and they launched a daring assault on the prison where Fanie was held captive, guns blazing, and managed to break him out. Now that the trio was back together and on the run, they had to find a place to lay low.
Pradeep was filled with restlessness, craving the thrill of robbing banks once more. He, along with his two accomplices, set off on a daring escapade, starting with one bank and swiftly moving to the next, then a third. Their spree continued as they hit bank after bank, all while sporting ridiculous disguises: giant sunglasses, bushy moustaches, and fake beards. They may have looked comical, but their synergy was impressive, allowing them to complete a heist in under five minutes. On some occasions, they even managed to rob several banks in a single day without being apprehended.
As their exploits gained notoriety, news of the bank robbers spread like wildfire through the community. Surprisingly, many locals began to rally behind them, captivated by how they outsmarted the police. Pradeep, Mpande, and Fanie found themselves in the spotlight as unlikely heroes, affectionately dubbed "The Invisibles" by their growing legion of fans. The frenzy surrounding them was palpable, and their faces were splashed across every news platform, igniting discussions far and wide. They untimately became South Africa's most wanted.
Over a span of several months, the crime spree showed no signs of slowing down. The gang found shelter in various safe houses, seized every chance to rob banks, amassed a significant amount of cash, and filled their leisure time with a parade of escorts.
Pradeep had a disturbing tendency to target unsuspecting young women, posing as a professional photographer. He lured them to his hotel room with the allure of a photoshoot, only to take advantage of them in a shocking way. One brave victim mustered the strength to report his heinous behaviour to the authorities.
With the threat of being captured hanging over them, the three quickly formulated an ingenious escape strategy to leave the country. They decided to obtain a yacht, aiming to make their getaway by sea. They believed this maritime route offered a greater sense of safety.
Using a fraudulent passport, Pradeep headed to Australia to finalise the discussions surrounding the yacht sale. Meanwhile, back in South Africa, law enforcement was closing in on one of the gang's secret locations. It appeared that some of the gang's escorts had tipped off the authorities. At approximately 4:00 am, the police surrounded the location, with Mpande being the sole occupant of the hideout. Police ordered the gang to come out with their hands raised. In a surreal moment, Mpande, still dripping from his shower and entirely naked, reached for his weapon and found himself in a frantic butt-naked shootout with law enforcement. The police burst into the house, and gunfire erupted around him as he dashed from one room to another, firing back at his pursuers. When they finally cornered him, he made a tragic choice, turning the gun on himself and ending it all.
In the meantime, Fanie received a tip-off that the police were closing in on them. He quickly made his escape, using a counterfeit passport to catch a flight to Greece. By the time the police conducted their raid on the gang's safe houses, he had already vanished. However, in one of those locations, they discovered photographs of a woman whom Pradeep had assaulted several months earlier. This evidence not only corroborated her account of being exploited by him but also linked the safe house directly to Pradeep.
The safe house provided crucial information that directed the police to the yacht they had purchased. From there, they traced a crew member hired to navigate it, who revealed that Pradeep was meant to transport the yacht to Australia. This development led law enforcement to conclude that Pradeep might be in Australia. Local newspapers caught wind of the story and began featuring Pradeep's photo, causing residents in Melbourne to be on the lookout for him.
One fateful morning, everything began to unravel for Pradeep. He was browsing a used car dealership, eager to find a new car, worried that his old one might give him away. The salesman, having seen Pradeep's face in the local newspaper, kept quiet at first but later decided to alert the authorities.
That night, the police made their way to Pradeep's apartment, forcefully entering the premises. But to their dismay, Pradeep was nowhere to be found. But just when it seemed like they were at a dead end, one of the officers spotted him whizzing by on a bicycle. There was no doubt about it; he recognised him instantly. The police officer dashed over to confront him. Realising what was happening, Pradeep jumped off his bike and made a run for it.
The police officer pursued him relentlessly until he finally caught up. Pradeep, who had been feigning surrender, suddenly lunged for the officer's shotgun. In a split second, the officer reacted by drawing his secondary weapon and fired four shots into Pradeep's chest, resulting in his immediate death.
Fanie, the sole remaining member of the trio, ended up in Brazil, where he tried to pull off another heist. Unfortunately, his plan failed spectacularly, resulting in his arrest and a life sentence without the possibility of parole.
"Now that I knew fear, I also knew it was not permanent. As powerful as it was, its grip on me would loosen. It would pass."
I am sorry
I am sorry that I am seen as inferior
I am sorry that I walk around real loud and oh so proud.
I am sorry that I stand out,
I stand out because I am different
Uxolo bhuti for being myself
For standing up for myself,
For fighting for my rights
Uxolo bhuti for wearing a dress
For wearing something that you might define as revealing
I, as intombi find this dress appealing
Ke maswabi that your imagination ran wild and left you aroused
Your thoughts, your actions
Are you proud
Are you proud that you left my dignity dead and my spirit without a chance to rise
Tshwarelo mama afrika
Your children have no love for each other
Your children are dancing with knives just for clout
Ringing their neighbours necks just for selling bread at half price
Some of your children are crying without a voice
Some of your children are left with scars that are not seen, without choice
Asseblief ma
Ek weet jy is kwaad
I know it hurts to see the gifts that you gave us flow like the fluent Tanganyika and into the rich man's mouth
I know it hurts to see the spirit of Ubuntu replaced by the spirit of Izita
Asseblief ma, retshwarele
I know it hurts that you're beginning to rifts apart like modern day families disconnecting
You're ripping apart from small Djibouti, down to vibrant Maputo
We all see that
We live in a patriarchal society where we find ourselves apologizing for being female,
And where smashing makes you alpha male
We all smell
The gunpowder over all the Chlorofluorocarbon emissions
We all smell the iron in the blood of the victims
Mothers and Fathers
Sisters and Brothers
We miss their presence as we see them disappear
We miss the safety of our hometowns
We need not a teaser nor a knife to feel safe
All we cry for is change
Nothing more
Nothing less
Just change
First published in Kenya in 2014: Kintu is a modern classic, a multilayered story that reimagines the history of Uganda through the cursed bloodline of the Kintu clan. Split across six chapters, the book starts in 1750 when Kintu Kidda leaves for the capital to swear loyalty to the newly appointed Buganda Kingdom ruler. He falls victim to a curse along the road that will follow his family for many years.
Makumbi interweaves the stories of Kintu's descendants as they attempt to overcome the weight of their common history and make peace with the legacy of tradition and the contemporary world that will shape their future in an ambitious story of a clan and a nation.
Amplifying phenomenal women from across the African continent and its global diaspora as they speak to empowering, experimental, and inspirational experiences of sex, sexuality, and relationships.
These African fables are part of the traditional folklore of African peoples in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Botswana, and Gabon. African culture is enriched by such lessons that provide universal wisdom and instruction for all of us no matter what our culture or background. To improve the lesson, each story is accompanied by a cartoon and an African proverb or saying. Although these stories are meant for elementary school students, they can be used with children of all ages.
This collection honors the ageless practice of oral storytelling, which has been handed down through the ages and is infused with ancient wisdom. Readers will travel through the heartlands of West Africa in this anthology, where ancient spirits roam and heroes rise to fulfill their destiny. From the vibrant marketplaces of Nigeria to the verdant forests of Ghana, each tale provides a window into the rich cultural legacy and shared imagination of the area while imparting invaluable moral lessons for day-to-day existence.
Botho Pere must leave his wife Nthatisi and their two kids in Lesotho after landing a job as a miner in South Africa. Following nearly three years without hearing from Botho, the industrious Nthatisi is left to look after their family. Ultimately, though, the fragile thread that has been holding them together could come undone by their secrets. Some of Botho's troubles are of his own making, while others are rumored to be caused by witchcraft, especially with the mysterious Mokoto always lurking on the periphery. Then one day, Botho decides to take control of his own fate.
Awesome adventures of African children with colorful drawings
Ulli finds a friend at the Saturday market, where he sells oranges.
Amina learns from her aunt how to make tie-dyed material.
Ojo the dream monster
Dondo saves his village from a terrible sandstorm.
Nandi meets her grandma in a dream.
Chinere receives seven magic stones on her wedding day.
Ali helps build a new schoolhouse in the middle of the jungle.
Saku stumbles on a magic medicine man who can read his thoughts.
Punji falls from his canoe into the lagoon and almost drowns.
Miriam dances for Grandma at the big family party.
Tears of Disinheritance offers a comprehensive analysis of the land-related issues faced by the Maasai people. Dr. Koissaba explores the history of the Maasai community, highlighting their cultural heritage, spiritual practices, and movements across the Rift Valley in Kenya and Tanzania.
Doris Lessing, a 2007 Nobel Prize winner in Literature. This is her best collection of African Stories. It includes every story Doris Lessing has written about Africa - The Old Chief's Country; The four tales about Africa from Five; The African stories from The Habit of Loving and A Man and Two Women; and four stories featured only in this edition.
Kristin Uys, a strong-willed Roodepoort magistrate, lives alone with her cat and is determined to eliminate prostitution in the town for personal reasons. Despite her failure to convict the Visagie Brothers for running a brothel, she manages to charge Stevo with contempt of court and gives him a six-month sentence. Outraged, Stevo seeks revenge against Kristin with the help of his brother and Aunt Magda. Kristin receives threatening phone calls, her home is invaded, and even her cat is threatened. The chief magistrate assigns a bodyguard, Don Mateza, to protect her, much to her dismay. Don's girlfriend, Tumi, is not pleased with the new arrangement, and Don soon realises that his new assignment comes with unexpected complications.
The Kingdom of Dahomey, a West African kingdom that ruled for more than 300 years. It's the land of cannibalism, voodoo, brutal kings, beauty, and cruelty. This incredible story is unknown to many of us.
"If sharks were men," Mr. K. was asked by his landlady's little girl, "would they be nicer to the little fishes?"
"Certainly," he said. "If sharks were men, they would build enormous boxes in the ocean for the little fish, with all kinds of food inside, both vegetable and animal. They would take care that the boxes always had fresh water, and in general they would make all kinds of sanitary arrangements. If, for example, a little fish were to injure a fin, it would immediately be bandaged so that it would not die and be lost to the sharks before its time. So that the little fish would not become melancholy, there would be big water festivals from time to time because cheerful fish taste better than melancholy ones.
"There would, of course, also be schools in the big boxes. In these schools, the little fish would learn how to swim into the sharks' jaws. They would need to know geography, for example, so that they could find the big sharks, who lie idly around somewhere. The principal subject would, of course, be the moral education of the little fish. They would be taught that it would be the best and most beautiful thing in the world if a little fish sacrificed itself cheerfully and that they all had to believe the sharks, especially when the latter said they were providing for a beautiful future. The little fish would be taught that this future is assured only if they learnt obedience. The little fish had to beware of all base, materialist, egotistical, and Marxist inclinations, and if one of their number betrayed such inclinations, they had to report it to the sharks immediately.
"If sharks were men, they would, of course, also wage wars against one another in order to conquer other fish boxes and other little fish. The wars would be waged by their own little fish. They would teach their little fish that there was an enormous difference between themselves and the little fish belonging to the other sharks. Little fish, they would announce, are well known to be mute, but they are silent in quite different languages and hence find it impossible to understand one another. Each little fish that, in a war, killed a couple of other little fish, enemy ones, silent in their own language, would have a little order made of seaweed pinned to it and be awarded the title of hero.
"If sharks were men, there would, of course, also be art. There would be beautiful pictures in which the sharks' teeth would be portrayed in magnificent colours and their jaws as pure pleasure gardens, in which one could romp about splendidly. The theatres at the bottom of the sea would show heroic little fish swimming enthusiastically into the jaws of sharks, and the music would be so beautiful that to the accompaniment of its sounds, the orchestra leading the way, the little fish would stream dreamily into the sharks' jaws, lulled by the most agreeable thoughts.
"There would also be a religion if sharks were men. It would preach that little fish only really begin to live properly in the sharks' stomachs.
"Furthermore, if sharks were men, there would be an end to all little fish being equal, as is the case now. Some would be given important offices and be placed above the others. Those who were a little bigger would even be allowed to eat up the smaller ones. That would be altogether agreeable for the sharks, since they themselves would more often get bigger bites to eat. And the bigger little fish, occupying their posts, would ensure order among the little fish, become teachers, officers, engineers in box construction, etc.
"In short, if sharks were men, they would for the first time bring culture to the ocean."
Don't let your heart stay broken
Do not stay fixated on what could have been
Focus on all that was deep
Be thankful you smiled
Be thankful you cried
And be thankful you loved and were loved
Because no magician is strong enough to conjure the magic you've created
So don't let your heart stay broke
Don't focus on the darkness
Or things that did not last
Don't look back at your pas
When your future is that bright..
Dance, dance!
With the muse of Africa;
Tap, tap!
With the rhythm of Africa;
Moving your body and,
Moving your steps;
To the sounds and cultures of the various tribes in Africa.
Dance, dance!
To the rhythm of Africa;
Tap, tap!
With the movements of the muse of Africa;
To a continent of nature's muse,
To a continent of multi-languages,
To a continent full of colours!
Fron North, South, East and West;
Come to Africa and see things for yourselves.
Rhythm of Africa,
Rhythm of various customs and cultures,
Rhythm of the various countries in Africa,
Rhythm of the animals,
With the beauty of nature as seen around.
Dance, dance!
Dance with the steps and shake your body;
To the rhythm of Africa touching your heart and soul.
Tap, tap!
With the movements of the muse of Africa;
Rhythm of Africa!
With the muse of various races in Africa;
Expressing their cultures and customs to the muse of the rhythm of Africa.
O fleece, that down the neck waves to the nape!
O curls! O perfume nonchalant and rare!
O ecstasy! To fill this alcove shape
With memories that in these tresses sleep,
I would shake them like penions in the air!
Languorous Asia, burning Africa,
And a far world, defunct almost, absent,
Within your aromatic forest stay!
As other souls on music drift away,
Mine, O my love! still floats upon your scent.
I shall go there where, full of sap, both tree
And man swoon in the heat of the southern climates;
Strong tresses be the swell that carries me!
I dream upon your sea of amber
Of dazzling sails, of oarsmen, masts, and flames:
A sun-drenched and reverberating port,
Where I imbibe colour and sound and scent;
Where vessels, gliding through the gold and moire,
Open their vast arms as they leave the shore
To clasp the pure and shimmering firmament.
I'll plunge my head, enamored of its pleasure,
In this black ocean where the other hides;
My subtle spirit then will know a measure
Of fertile idleness and fragrant leisure,
Lulled by the infinite rhythm of its tides!
Pavilion, of autumn-shadowed tresses spun,
You give me back the azure from afar;
And where the twisted locks are fringed with down
Lurk mingled odors I grow drunk upon
Of oil of coconut, of musk, and tar.
A long time! always! my hand in your hair
Will sow the stars of sapphire, pearl, ruby,
That you be never deaf to my desire,
My oasis and my gourd whence I aspire
To drink deep of the wine of memory.
Pot of love,
Dot with life!
Spot of peace,
Hot like the sun;
Love Brewed In The African Pot!
My identity,
My continent,
My Country,
My land,
Love Brewed In The African Pot!
Mama Africa,
Africa! Africa!
My identity,
The Colour of my Skin,
The muse of life,
The muse of my mind,
Africa! Africa!
Cultures and Traditions,
My continent,
My Country,
My land,
My identity,
Love Brewed In The African Pot!
Mama Africa,
The continent of my birth,
With the muse of my mind to the world so sweet!
Poetry,
Way of life;
Presenting my works to the world,
From Africa!
Being an African,
Born and raised in Ghana,
My identity,
My life,
Love and art!
Love and life,
Peace and joy!
Mama Africa,
Africa! Africa!
Mama Africa,
Love Brewed In The African Pot!
With the fragrance of life and the romance of nature;
The beauty of creation,
The Harmony of life,
Mama Africa,
The Symphony of the truth!
With righteous morals;
Africa! Africa!
Mama Africa,
The colours of life,
With the aroma of creation;
Love Brewed In The African Pot!
Colonialism in its last moments is pushed to the centre stage -
the recoiling phenomenon intensely illuminated
by The Flame Of Liberty.
Roused by the prospect of emancipatory freedom,
from the shadows of Servitude, nations rise.
Their demand for a dawn long on hold
brings an end to the colonial yoke.
Her soul refreshed with a breath of new life,
Africa thrills at the sight of the expanding horizons -
an euphoria feelings that veiled 'Danger Signs'.
She's been bequeathed dreadful webs of intrigue:
Uneasy amalgams of multicultural colonial territories,
hitherto upheld through coercive mechanisms.
With price tags of 'patriots' hanging on won Liberty,
they bicker over the vacated Seat Of Power.
In their snobbery of honour in favour of greed,
strategic realignments of comrades produce
The Strongman: A tyrant - backed by 'jackals'
and supported by gullible public.
In a cruel twist of fate, hopeful assertion of self-rule
soon becomes the anticipation of a gaudy illusion.
The exit of Foreign Powers has delivered the people
into the grasps of Democratic Mobs:
Cabals fueled by putrid sludge of Kleptocracy,
devoid of political visions to transform into realities.
With no intent of restructuring imposed alien models,
cabals pursue joint criminal enterprises:
Good citizens are sieved out of the system,
party loyalists take over their place.
Key positions go to ruthless operators,
who translate decisions into actions.
Vast network of political jobbers across tribes are bought;
Political parties become private estates;
Police remains agent of The State;
Legislative bodies are subdued;
With the Judiciary effectively hijacked,
the oppressed has no where to seek redress.
Ultimately The Liberators Turn Into Oppressors.
Haven subverted Power Of The People
which has raised them to unfair dominion;
In frenzied torrents of greed without care,
Opportunistic Banditry is institutionalized.
In a matter of months raging economic crises follow.
And attempts to curb budget deficits upset lives,
sending an already violated citizenry
on a sad voyage into poverty.
In their scheme for hegemony, struggle credentials with
membership of the ruling party, are made the
prerequisites for political and economic ascendancy.
Their capitalist tendency reinvents imperialism.
With nepotism and sectionalism proclivity, parochial
appointments skewed towards specific groups are made.
Ethnic rivalry is promoted as one tribe is favoured above others.
Serious conflicts are provoked with diverse interest groups.
The Freedom Party once the pride of the nation
has turned public enemy number one.
With the powder keg too close to the naked flames,
BANG! It explodes. And the fire burns with a vengeance.
Turmoils of Democratic Anarchy usher in The Military:
Demagogues with perfect sets of iron teeth -
Whose stern miens wore the semblance of an undertaker.
They bait on sentiments of the masses to legitimize regime;
They promise to steer The Ship Of State
to berth on a safe harbour;
They pay lip service to their anti-corruption crusade.
They're the raiders of public treasuries!
They're the violators of Integrity Of The State!
They're the embodiments of rot!
Strategic alliance is built with oligarchs of crafty pretense.
The marriage of convenience symbiotic in its nature:
'You Rub My Back I'll Rub Yours.'
The wooed spiders, with a keen knowledge of the web
assume an oversight for the junta - reinforcing its hold
on power. Their administrative tasks keep the wheels
of government-owned enterprises turning,
thereby maintaining brazen squandering of resources.
In the quest for total control,
with the delusions that match their effronteries;
They unleash an assemblage of horrors:
Prison cells are packed with innocent citizens
picked on the flimsiest of excuses;
Rendition of dissidents tagged 'terrorists' becomes normal.
Curfews are enforced; Checkpoints are mounted;
Visible policing is achieved; With free speech punished,
displeasures are carefully altered in whispers; And
brutality is sold as pragmatic response to increased crime.
The cowardly populace petrified in its sullen expression,
in degrading submission blindly accepts Slavery.
Assets of nations are then plundered with impunity;
Ill-gotten moneys are laundered to different offshore heavens;
Treacherously, patrimonies are secretly being transferred
abroad, and governments turn around to ask for loans
on the very funds illicitly moved.
Post-colonial Africa is a continent marred with endemic conflicts;
Human Rights abuses of monumental proportions;
The entrenched lack of accountability within governments;
Shameful history of nationalized thefts by those in high places;
Quests for power at all costs - with Heads of States
holding on to power even when circumstances dictate otherwise.
Since Independence Africa has continued to stagnate
while the rest of the world have forged ahead.
But she ought to be thriving well!
She has an unrivaled wild life conducive to tourism;
Pristine ecosystem with endless stretches of fertile lands;
Rare incidences of natural disasters;
Resilient hardworking population;
Her prospects for hydroelectric supply is second to none.
She is hugely blessed with diverse mineral resources.
No other continent is endowed with as much!
Yet notoriously, Africa with such fortunes and potentials
relentlessly wallows in the throes of economic woes.
Bitterbessie dagbreek
bitterbessie son
'n spieel het gebreek
tussen my en hom
Soek ek na die grootpad
om daarlangs te draf
oral draai die paadjies
van sy woorde af
Dennebos herinnering
dennebos vergeet
het ek ook verdwaal
trap ek in my leed
Papegaai-bont eggo
kierang kierang my
totdat ek bedroe
weer die koggel kry
Eggo is geen antwoord
antwoord hy alom
bitterbessie dagbreek
bitterbessie son
I am sorry
I am sorry that I am seen as inferior
I am sorry that I walk around real loud and oh so proud.
I am sorry that I stand out,
I stand out because I am different
Uxolo bhuti for being myself
For standing up for myself,
For fighting for my rights
Uxolo bhuti for wearing a dress
For wearing something that you might define as revealing
I, as intombi find this dress appealing
Ke maswabi that your imagination ran wild and left you aroused
Your thoughts, your actions
Are you proud
Are you proud that you left my dignity dead and my spirit without a chance to rise
Tshwarelo mama afrika
Your children have no love for each other
Your children are dancing with knives just for clout
Ringing their neighbours necks just for selling bread at half price
Some of your children are crying without a voice
Some of your children are left with scars that are not seen, without choice
Asseblief ma
Ek weet jy is kwaad
I know it hurts to see the gifts that you gave us flow like the fluent Tanganyika and into the rich man's mouth
I know it hurts to see the spirit of Ubuntu replaced by the spirit of Izita
Asseblief ma, retshwarele
I know it hurts that you're beginning to rifts apart like modern day families disconnecting
You're ripping apart from small Djibouti, down to vibrant Maputo
We all see that
We live in a patriarchal society where we find ourselves apologizing for being female,
And where smashing makes you alpha male
We all smell
The gunpowder over all the Chlorofluorocarbon emissions
We all smell the iron in the blood of the victims
Mothers and Fathers
Sisters and Brothers
We miss their presence as we see them disappear
We miss the safety of our hometowns
We need not a teaser nor a knife to feel safe
All we cry for is change
Nothing more
Nothing less
Just change
Down!
But I believe in the truth;
Faith and hope,
Born and raised in Africa.
Growing up in Ghana,
To face the world today with my works;
Along the line to meet your love!
Miles away from my home.
Teachings,
Growing up,
To fall and to rise up again!
To follow after the truth,
Keeping the laws,
Righteous Laws;
To choose those things which are right and,
To seek for peace.
Born in Africa,
Born and raised in Africa;
Kiss, hiss, miss!
Literature from Africa;
Warm and Friendly,
To do my best for others.
Due, dew!
With the clue;
To agree to the truth,
Free like a bee! !
Seen around a tree.
Muse of love and life,
Side by side;
To pay my dues to Mama Africa.
Growing up,
Life in the Ghetto;
Inside Africa!
Literature from Africa.
Through the narrow path,
Through Creativity,
Hustle and bustle,
Table, stable, cable, able!
Sometimes unstable;
Muse from Africa,
And to respect Mama Africa.
Cultures and Traditions,
Born and raised in Africa;
Growing up in Ghana,
With the Challenges and the Changes around.
Literature of Africa!
Rivers of Africa,
Mountains of Africa,
Animals of Africa,
North, South, East and West!
With the muse of Mama Africa.
Plants and rituals,
Stages and sages,
Pages of life!
With the muse of Africa.
Born and raised in Africa,
My mind!
My love,
My identity,
My muse;
Closely related to my tribe;
The vibe!
With my works to the world.
A new day,
Sunshine love!
A new day in Africa;
Echoes of a new day with the muse of my mind,
Born and raised in Africa.
Peace and joy to all mankind without racism!
Realism;
With the truth,
With Natural Laws,
With the romance of nature.
Issue,
Tissue,
Reign! !
Oh Life! Give me what i want;
Able to touch the hearts of the people with the truth,
With righteous morals.
Inspired by the truth,
Living and learning always;
Under the umbrella of righteous morals,
Gain, again!
With righteous laws.
Chain and pain along the line,
Growing up in Africa;
Pray, ray, pay!
To heal the world with the truth.
Don't cry for me Africa
Because I will never let you out of my mind
I hear your voices people of Africa
I hear your cries people of Africa
I see pain in your eyes people of Africa
It is hard to describe what you people of Africa are going through
Poverty strikes you all people of Africa
Don't cry for me Africa
Because I will keep you in my prayers people of Africa
Power to the people of Africa
People of Africa lift your spirit higher
Lord is the light and truth people of Africa
The Lord sends you a message from his heart to you people of Africa
He said because I love you
I will answer your prayers
I hear your prayers
Don't cry for me Africa
Because you have a friend that is the Lord
People of Africa continue doing the Lord's work
Make a wish people of Africa
The people of Africa are looking at the Lord face to face
Lord here is no paradise
We dream a little dream said the people of Africa to the Lord
The People of Africa Pray that the Lord will give each other strength every day
Don't cry for me Africa
Save the people of Africa
Strengthened the people of Africa each day
Because I'll be there in your dreams people of Africa
The people of Africa tells The Lord how much they love him
Don't cry for me Africa
Lord comes when you are ready people of Africa
Feelings you have for your Lord People of Africa
And I know you will never let it die
Nothing but flowers the people of Africa will plant in the sea shore for the Lord
Don't cry for me Africa
The people of Africa needs hope to heal there land
The Lord rose up on you people of Africa
Don't cry for me Africa
My heart will go on
Once I close this door of the ship I will sail across the Atlantic Sea
We are the miracles that God made
To taste the bitter fruit of Time.
We are precious.
And one day our suffering
Will turn into the wonders of the earth.
There are things that burn me now
Which turn golden when I am happy.
Do you see the mystery of our pain?
That we bear poverty
And are able to sing and dream sweet things
And that we never curse the air when it is warm
Or the fruit when it tastes so good
Or the lights that bounce gently on the waters?
We bless things even in our pain.
We bless them in silence.
That is why our music is so sweet.
It makes the air remember.
There are secret miracles at work
That only Time will bring forth.
I too have heard the dead singing.
And they tell me that
This life is good
They tell me to live it gently
With fire, and always with hope.
There is wonder here
And there is surprise
In everything the unseen moves.
The ocean is full of songs.
The sky is not an enemy.
Destiny is our friend.
This powerful novel is based on the actual history of 'Farini's Friendly Zulus', men who were brought to Britain and then to America as entertainment. The story starts in 1885 with the main character, Em-Pee, in cold New York, disliking the exaggerated 'savage' performance of 'The Wild Zulu', which is very different from his own true history, not well understood in this foreign land: 'His Zulu colleagues call him Mpi, which has become Em-Pee to the English-speakers.' His real name is not the only thing lost in this distant foreign country, and he is viewed as nothing more than a sideshow act, although at least he is not kept in a cage like the beautiful Dinka Princess, owned by Monsieur Duval, the owner of Duval Ethnological Expositions. And so begins one of Zakes Mda's most powerful stories, a short novel but one that delivers a strong message and will evoke intense emotions in its portrayal of real injustices and indignities while also celebrating the strength and creativity of the human spirit and the transformative power of love.
Bra Zakes illustrates the outcomes of crossing boundaries: elements that are viewed as unclean and detrimental to the harmony and sanctity of a group, society, and culture are examined; forbidden topics, irrational beliefs, traditions, and ethical principles are scrutinized and occasionally parodied.
This book has more than two dozen stories of Indigenous resistance to the privatisation and allotment of Indigenous lands.
Land privatisation has been a longstanding issue that has led to Indigenous peoples being removed from their traditional homelands. Allotment Stories explores this conflict by sharing stories of Indigenous communities fighting against land schemes that seek to dispossess them.
"This work has been selected by scholars as being culturally important and is part of the knowledge base of civilization as we know it.
This work is in the public domain in the United States of America, and possibly other nations. Within the United States, you may freely copy and distribute this work, as no entity (individual or corporate) has a copyright on the body of the work.
Scholars believe, that this work is important enough to be preserved, reproduced, and made generally available to the public. To ensure a quality reading experience, this work has been proofread and republished using a format that seamlessly blends the original graphical elements with text in an easy-to-read typeface."
An assortment of Chinua Achebe's short fiction, composed north of twenty years and drawn from scholarly diaries and magazines.
Believe you can, and you're halfway there.
"One of the sayings in our country is Ubuntu - the essence of being human. Ubuntu speaks particularly about the fact that you can't exist as a human being in isolation. It speaks about our interconnectedness. You can't be human all by yourself, and when you have this quality - Ubuntu - you are known for your generosity. We think of ourselves far too frequently as just individuals, separated from one another, whereas you are connected and what you do affects the whole world. When you do well, it spreads out; it is for the whole of humanity."
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Keep it Clean, Respectful and Constructive.
Shiba was tamed until he was not. So Shadow varnished into thin air 🤔
I remember reading "The Republic" from this website but now I can't find it. 😢😢
In Love is blind, Layla should have left Raymond immediately after the first incident. Or maybe Raymond used muthi 😃
Interesting reads. I enjoy the games as well
Cheating Koutney, she cheated to her demies. Lessons to be learned. If only she remained loyal to her husband.
Rayray is a savage.
I enjoyed Love In The Skies. ... I can relate :(
Mzizi wa Kenya
Is it fear, love or stockholm syndrome