We have had a drought for two years. I do not know about anywhere else, but southern Zimbabwe has held long patches of brown in December. Patches of brown where there should be maize fields. Patches of brown where the cattle should have been grazing. Patches of brown where entire rivers flowed not too long ago. Patches of brown where there should have been life.

Child-trafficking and child-labour are criminal and unjust. Sadly, many young girls who have been reduced to maids serving in homes in cities in Nigeria are daily abused, assaulted, raped and denied tasting the honey of knowledge. Dozens of such poor girls are yearning to have a better life and future, like the children they are paid peanuts to wash panties for or serve as nannies.

I still sit in absolute darkness. A voice. A soulful voice which becomes a place of shelter, a resort: A voice to heal the wounds of darkness and to chase the ghosts. The three artists speak out images of the past, sitting on the floor when light slowly guides us out of the darkness, their voices put the memories in place.

I still sit in absolute darkness. A voice. A soulful voice which becomes a place of shelter, a resort: A voice to heal the wounds of darkness and to chase the ghosts. The three artists speak out images of the past, sitting on the floor when light slowly guides us out of the darkness, their voices put the memories in place.

Join our Mailing List for all Poetry Info! #KSR

Konya Shamsrumi is an African poetry press, perhaps the only one. It sure feels lonely. So, come join in—Dakar to Cape Town, Nakuru to Casablanca—#OneAfrica

Join our list and keep up to date with our continent's best poetry news, views and interviews.