POEM: AFRICA IS THE COLOUR OF BLOOD BY IFESINACHI NWADIKE
when my children are born
I shall tell them
never to be so hospitable
as to allow a visitor
serve himself in the kitchen
when my children are born
I shall tell them
never to be so hospitable
as to allow a visitor
serve himself in the kitchen
Africa is the ground
Where God’s bastards play
the pit toilet
where they assemble to die
a dark smear in a dark world.
We were sure to have discussions on how this crisis has affected lives and businesses, what we didn’t know was that they’d come in the form of beautifully written essays that reflect the writers’ experiences as practicing artists in throes of Covid-19.