“Ergonomics” in Truck, 2016.
“Ode to the Sheep” Prairie Schooner, 2016.
“The fire people” Poetry Quarterly, 2015.
“Three poems” in Moving Worlds: A Journal of Transcultural Writings, ed. Jane Plastow, Vol 14, (2014) School of English, University of Leeds, p90-91.
“Stormy Heart” in A Thousand Voices Rising: An Anthology of Contemporary African Poetry, ed. Beverley N Nsengiyunva, Gilgal Media Arts, Kampala, (2014) p13-14.
The day I got my first period, Mother exclaimed; You’ve become a woman! And so I wondered, What had I been earlier? And how could a drop of blood Make me a woman? When they took my brother to the circle, He flinched at the feel of a sharp knife. But the elders convinced him; ‘You must not fear Do not show any cowardice Once we slice off the skin You become a man.’ When mother was heavy with Junior, She would rush off the table And run to the sink. The day she was taken to hospital A bag of water dropped to the ground, Then a drop of blood. Father cried, ‘Woman!’ I read in the Holy Scriptures How the Son of man was crucified Before he breathed his last, Water and blood flowed out There he became man, Who was God. I guess there’s something in a drop of blood, That makes us men and women.
He says We are a continuous stream Not a classification There isn’t a you, me or the other We are us. Borderless Africa Borderless Africa. They say Before time began We were, Now the cord is broken, Dismembered from the source. Borderless Africa, Borderless Africa, Flow, Connect us again We cry for you.
The Call Come to the edge, he said It’s dangerous there, I answered Come to the edge, he said It’s risky, I might fall and break my bones Come to the edge, he said I did, He pushed me, And I flew.
More from Give Me Room to Move My Feet 2009
Short story: Black Stone published in Per Contra. 2012