Tag Archives: Africa

There’s a tiny colonialist inside me.

I have no right to write about Africa, for her children have done so with a poignancy I couldn’t begin to touch (even if my skin were brown and I knew the secrets of perfect ugali). But from my beginnings … Continue reading

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Branches

The little girl in the tree is further away than the distance From the branch to the ground Sun-speckled face shadowed, changing, still – I heard tell thatĀ farther ought to be used for geographical distance For the physical, the definite, … Continue reading

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