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."

Louise Erdrich, The Round House

Quick Reads

Love Is Blind
When Raymond, a lawyer with an eccentric flair, stumbled upon a breathtaking woman named Layla, he was instantly smitten. Her beauty left him spellbound, igniting an overwhelming desire to be with her more than anything.

He pulled out all the stops to win her heart. From lavish dinners to thoughtful gifts, he spared no expense. Every morning, he would wait outside her house, ready to drive her to work. His efforts paid off, and she finally relented, agreeing to give him a chance, leading to the start of their relationship.

Everything took a disastrous turn when they had been dating for about a year. One evening, during a seemingly normal date, Raymond dropped a shocking revelation: he was already married with children. This news shattered Layla, leaving her furious. Raymond attempted to reassure her, saying, "It's okay, I'm in the middle of a divorce," but Layla was far from convinced. In a desperate bid to regain her trust, Raymond even presented her with what he claimed were divorce papers. However, upon further investigation, Layla discovered that those papers were nothing more than a clever ruse. With a firm resolve, Layla ended her relationship with Raymond for good.

She took some time to gather herself and soon met a guy named Scott. They hit it off and began dating, with Scott proving to be a genuinely nice person. A few months later, Scott proposed, and they got engaged. When Raymond found out about their engagement, he was furious. Instead of accepting reality, he spiralled into obsession, determined to win his Layla back.

He reached out to her incessantly, showering her with letters, flowers, and gifts. In a desperate bid, he even turned to her friends, pleading with them to pass along his messages. Unfortunately for him, none of these efforts bore fruit, leading him to resort to a more sinister approach. He began to threaten her, hurling rocks at her window in an attempt to instill fear, claiming he would send people to harm her. However, his intimidation only pushed Layla further away.

Layla was resolute; she had no intention of returning to Raymond, and her commitment to Scott was still strong. This pushed Raymond into a dark place.

In a fit of jealousy, he plotted to ensure that if he couldn't possess Layla, he would make her undesirable to everyone else by hiring someone to mar her beauty.

On a seemingly typical morning, Layla was having breakfast when the doorbell interrupted her meal. She went to see who it was and found two men at the door, claiming to have a delivery for her. Suddenly, one of them hurled a jar of liquid at her face, and they bolted away as she screamed in agony, feeling the burning sensation of the liquid. An ambulance was called and quickly rushed her to the hospital, where she endured two and a half months of surgeries, leaving her with permanent blindness in one eye and partial blindness in the other.

Following her release from the hospital, she sat down for an extensive conversation with Scott, leading them to the difficult decision to end their engagement. They both felt that Raymond was too perilous and posed a significant threat and feared he might attempt to harm Scott next.

After four long months, the police finally managed to find the two men Raymond had enlisted to assault Layla. One of the suspects started singing like a canary, leading both men to confess to their involvement in the crime. They both claimed that Raymond was the mastermind behind the entire operation.

Raymond found himself in court, ultimately receiving a sentence of at least thirteen years behind bars. However, he faced a significant dilemma: his deep love for Layla remained unwavering, and he was resolute in his decision to fight for her love - even behind bars.

While serving his time, he found solace in writing letters to her, sharing his feelings of longing and his unwavering affection. Yet poor Layla was still facing her own battles. Though her attackers were behind bars, she was grappling with near blindness, financial difficulties, and the loneliness of living on her own. She began responding to him, and when Raymond discovered her financial struggles, he started sending her money. While in prison, he had taken on paralegal work, and he sent her whatever small amounts he earned. She relied on that support, which kept their communication steady. Over the course of twelve years, they maintained their connection, and eventually, the day came when Raymond completed his sentence and was released from prison.

After his release, Raymond reconnected with Layla, and he found himself in the spotlight once more. His past actions had made him a local figure of notoriety, particularly for hiring men to attack and blind his ex-girlfriend. This infamy led to an invitation for a live television interview. During the show, in a surprising twist, Raymond turned to the camera and proposed to Layla, capturing the attention of viewers everywhere. To everyone's astonishment, Layla accepted his proposal. Six months later, she married the man who had caused her so much pain, and they embarked on a new chapter together, seemingly living happily ever after.

More than a decade passed, during which Raymond had been unfaithful to Layla with several women, as one might expect. One of these women eventually came forward, revealing that she and Raymond had been involved for four years. However, she claimed that he had recently begun to harass and threaten her with violence, reminiscent of his behaviour towards Layla. This led her to file charges against him, and the case made its way to court. Surprisingly, Layla chose to stand by Raymond and testified as a character witness, asserting that he would never hurt a fly. Thanks to Layla, Raymond was able to evade most of the charges but was convicted of second-degree harassment. The couple continued their marriage, but tragically, about five years after the trial, Layla passed away.

In a bizarre turn of events, many years later, when Raymond had reached the age of ninety-one, he fell victim to his much younger caretaker, who cunningly swindled him out of his 8 million rands worth of fortune just before he took his last breath.
Lost At Sea
As the elderly couple looked on, they witnessed a peculiar sight: a man crawling through the sand. He was naked, barely able to stand, clutching a knife, and shouting something in a language they couldn't comprehend.

Willem, a fearless fisherman who braved the dangers of the deep sea to reel in Geelbek and Cape Snoek along the cold Atlantic waters. One morning, he made the spontaneous decision to embark on a two-day fishing escapade. With his usual fishing buddy unavailable, he sought out a replacement. That's when a young and inexperienced angler named Ashley eagerly stepped up to the challenge. Together, Willem and Ashley set sail on the Atlantic waters.

Over the course of two days, they dedicated themselves to fishing and managed to accumulate a total of 500 kilograms of fish. This impressive catch would bring in a tidy profit once they returned home, equivalent to a week's earnings. Unfortunately, their journey back took an unexpected twist as they set sail homeward. Without warning, a massive storm descended upon them, filling the boat with water. Panicked, Ashley grabbed a bucket to scoop out the water while Willem fought to steer through the turbulent waves. Luckily, the storm eventually subsided, revealing land on the horizon.

They were approximately two hours from the shore when the boat's engine began to stutter and eventually stopped. Willem quickly grabbed a two-way radio and contacted his boss to inform him about the engine failure. His boss enquired about their location, but their GPS had malfunctioned. As if things couldn't get any worse, the storm began to gather strength, causing the boat to be violently tossed around by towering waves, lifting them up to 10 meters high before dropping them back down. Upon realising that the 500 kilograms of fish they had caught were making the boat unstable, Willem made the decision to dump it all out. They continued to throw overboard anything else that was not useful, such as extra ice and fuel, in order to lighten the load and restore stability to the boat.

When the two-way radio suddenly went silent, Willem and Ashley had already been working tirelessly to remove water from the boat for a couple of hours. Despite their best efforts, the engine remained stubbornly inactive. Willem's anger boiled over; he was seething with rage and completely lost control. He grabbed a club typically used for killing fish and violently smashed the boat's engine. In a fit of frustration, he tossed the dead GPS and radio into the water.

With nightfall and dropping temperatures, the two men had no choice but to huddle under an overturned cooler for warmth and shelter.

Meanwhile, back on land, a search party was organised to find the missing duo. However, the relentless storm continued to rage on, making visibility extremely poor. After three days of fruitless searching, the decision was made to call off the search.

Five more days dragged on before the storm ceased its fury. Willem and Ashley were left disoriented, realising they were in the middle of nowhere. Hunger gnawed at their stomachs, and there was no food or water left on the boat. With Willem's tools lost at sea, he had to improvise. He spent time honing his skills at catching fish with his bare hands. They had no choice but to eat their catch raw and drink their own urine to stay alive.

One fortunate day, a seabird landed on their boat, giving them a stroke of luck. Willem wasted no time in seizing the opportunity and swiftly took the bird's life. They managed to sustain themselves by consuming the bird for a couple of days until rain finally poured down, allowing them to gather water to drink. For approximately two months, they survived by eating raw fish and collecting rainwater whenever possible.

With each passing day, Ashley underwent a transformation that deeply affected his demeanor. Sinking into a state of despair, he rejected any form of sustenance. The mere idea of consuming raw animals repulsed him to the point where he abandoned eating entirely. His condition worsened, prompting Willem and Ashley to fear the worst. In a desperate move, they made a pact: if Willem survives, he will reach out to Ashley's mother with a message intended exclusively for her. He reluctantly agreed to the plan.

One rainy morning, following over three months of being adrift at sea, Ashley succumbed to starvation. Willem was heartbroken to find himself alone. The bond they had formed during their harrowing ordeal was strong, leaving Willem feeling incredibly isolated. He found himself conversing with Ashley's lifeless body, unable to let go. After six days, he came to the realisation that it was not healthy to continue pretending the corpse was still alive.

He shoved Ashley's lifeless body into the ocean, then continued to survive on his boat adrift at sea. Another month passed, and Willem was still there, living off the land, catching fish, drinking rainwater, and talking to birds and dead fish.

Suddenly, Willem spotted a new type of bird - not the usual seabirds, but land birds. In the distance, he could make out a mountaintop, which turned out to be connected to an island. It was a glimmer of hope that maybe he could keep his word and deliver the message to Ashley's mother.

The island was approximately an hour away, and Willem steered his boat in its direction. As he neared, he plunged into the water and swam for dear life to the shore. Upon reaching it, he found himself too feeble to stand, completely unclothed, and armed with a knife for safety. He laboriously crawled onto the beach and into the jungle, where he came across a house occupied by an elderly couple. They saw him crawling around naked with a knife, shouting in Afrikaans. The elderly couple ended up helping him get to the hospital.

So what is this island that Willem finally landed on after being lost at sea for more than four months? Willem had drifted almost 2800 kilometres all the way from coastal Cape Town to the Tristan da Cunha island.

A month later, after being rescued and coming back to Cape Town, South Africa, he paid a visit to Ashley's mother and was able to pass along Ashley's last message to her.

His incredible story landed him a book deal, but then Ashley's family sued him for two million rands, claiming half of the book sales.

A wind is ruffling the tawny pelt
Of Africa, Kikuyu, quick as flies,
Batten upon the bloodstreams of the veldt.
Corpses are scattered through a paradise.
Only the worm, colonel of carrion, cries:
'Waste no compassion on these separate dead!'
Statistics justify and scholars seize
The salients of colonial policy.
What is that to the white child hacked in bed?
To savages, expendable as Jews?
Threshed out by beaters, the long rushes break
In a white dust of ibises whose cries
Have wheeled since civilizations dawn
From the parched river or beast-teeming plain.
The violence of beast on beast is read
As natural law, but upright man
Seeks his divinity by inflicting pain.
Delirious as these worried beasts, his wars
Dance to the tightened carcass of a drum,
While he calls courage still that native dread
Of the white peace contracted by the dead.

Again brutish necessity wipes its hands
Upon the napkin of a dirty cause, again
A waste of our compassion, as with Spain,
The gorilla wrestles with the superman.
I who am poisoned with the blood of both,
Where shall I turn, divided to the vein?
I who have cursed
The drunken officer of British rule, how choose
Between this Africa and the English tongue I love?
Betray them both, or give back what they give?
How can I face such slaughter and be cool?
How can I turn from Africa and live?

Derek Walcott

Bookshelf

In seven stories, Haruki Murakami uses his keen observational skills to examine the lives of men who, in various ways, are alone.
Stories about disappearing cats, smoke-filled bars, mysterious women, lonely hearts, baseball, and the Beatles are interwoven here to create a universally relatable tale.

Haruki Murakami

Al J. Venter has seen the worst crimes committed by humanity in the previous 55 years, from fleeing gunfire in war-torn nations to living in a little hamlet in Natal. Having covered more than 25 wars, he is the oldest active war correspondent. In his memoir, he skillfully narrates the tales of the battles he covered, the behind-the-scenes anecdotes, and the journey across Africa that altered his life.

Al J. Venter

"Dikgang Moseneke pays homage to the many people and places that have helped to define and shape him. In tracing his ancestry, the influence on both his maternal and paternal sides is evident in the values they imbued in their children - the importance of family, the value of hard work and education, an uncompromising moral code, compassion for those less fortunate and unflinching refusal to accept an unjust political regime or acknowledge its oppressive laws. As a young activist in the Pan Africanist Congress, at the tender age of 15, Moseneke was arrested, detained and, in 1963, sentenced to 10 years on Robben Island for participating in anti-apartheid activities. Physical incarceration, harsh conditions and inhumane treatment could not imprison the political prisoners' minds, however, and for many the Island became a school not only in politics but an opportunity for dedicated study, formal and informal. It set the young Moseneke on a path towards a law degree that would provide the bedrock for a long and fruitful legal career and see him serve his country in the highest court. My Own Liberator charts Moseneke's rise as one of the country's top legal minds, who not only helped to draft the interim Constitution, but for 15 years acted as a guardian of that Constitution for all South Africans, helping to make it a living document for the country and its people"

Dikgang Moseneke

"'n Versameling van 100 gedigte oor verlies en vertroosting deur van Afrikaans se bekendste digters. Dis verse die dood, rou, afskeid, verganklikheid en menswees. Die lewe is 'n asem lank is die ideale geskenk aan iemand wat 'n geliefde vir altyd moes groet ? veral wanneer 'n mens nie die woorde kan vind om te troos nie."

Frieda van den Heever

A deserving recipient of the 2016 Goodreads Choice Award. Discover Amanda Lovelace's captivating poetry collection, divided into four parts: The Princess, The Damsel, The Queen, and You. Unveil the author's journey through life in the first three sections, with the final part offering a heartfelt message to the reader. Dive into this poignant book, delving into themes of love, loss, grief, healing, empowerment, and inspiration.

Amanda Lovelace

Virago presents an updated collection of Maya Angelou's works of poetry, collected together for the first time. From her reflections on African American life and hardship in Just Give Me a Cool Drink of Water 'fore I Diiie to her revolutionary celebrations of womanhood in Phenomenal Woman and Still I Rise, and her elegant tributes to dignitaries Bill Clinton and Nelson Mandela (On the Pulse of Morning and His Day Is Done, respectively), every inspiring word of Maya Angelou's poetry is included in the pages of this volume.

Maya Angelou

"During the South African Boer war an American Colonel John Blake falls in love with a Boer woman and fights for the country and her cause."
Side story: - The current Boer leader adopts Khotso, an orphaned African boy, and raises him to be the only person he can rely on to bury the Kruger Millions.

Danzel Fegen

Every tale astonishes with its melodies, warmth, and linguistic mastery.

Gothatone Moeng

An assortment of Chinua Achebe's short fiction, composed north of twenty years and drawn from scholarly diaries and magazines.

Chinua Achebe

After a government edict cut his father's job, Eniola's family has been struggling to survive. His secondary school teachers beat him because of his unpaid fees, and his parents are behind on the rent and cannot pay for his apprenticeship at a tailoring shop. Nevertheless, he strives to make himself useful, folding wrappers and trying to forget about how he's taunted by schoolmates.
Wuraola, the daughter of the tailoring shop's most valued customer, is an exhausted young doctor who can barely catch any sleep as she works long hours in a public hospital. After her boyfriend proposes, their relationship accelerates towards marriage even as his darker side is exposed, risking her family's spell of good things.
Meanwhile, Eniola becomes caught in a tangle of decisions that will bring him into collision with the political forces in the city and harm his family and Wuraola's in the process. Following the lives of Eniola, Wuraola, and their relatives, the novel traces the entwined fates of two families in a Nigerian city, one with all the fortune in the world and one that cannot catch a break.

Ayobami Adebayo

"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."

Bertolt Brecht, Stories of Mr Keuner

Poems

The sun sought thy dim bed and brought forth light,
The sciences were sucklings at thy breast;
When all the world was young in pregnant night
Thy slaves toiled at thy monumental best.
Thou ancient treasure-land, thou modern prize,
New peoples marvel at thy pyramids!
The years roll on, thy sphinx of riddle eyes
Watches the mad world with immobile lids.
The Hebrews humbled them at Pharaoh's name.
Cradle of Power! Yet all things were in vain!
Honor and Glory, Arrogance and Fame!
They went. The darkness swallowed thee again.
Thou art the harlot, now thy time is done,
Of all the mighty nations of the sun.

Claude McKay

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

Robiin M and Marothi Motshekga

A wind is ruffling the tawny pelt
Of Africa, Kikuyu, quick as flies,
Batten upon the bloodstreams of the veldt.
Corpses are scattered through a paradise.
Only the worm, colonel of carrion, cries:
'Waste no compassion on these separate dead!'
Statistics justify and scholars seize
The salients of colonial policy.
What is that to the white child hacked in bed?
To savages, expendable as Jews?
Threshed out by beaters, the long rushes break
In a white dust of ibises whose cries
Have wheeled since civilizations dawn
From the parched river or beast-teeming plain.
The violence of beast on beast is read
As natural law, but upright man
Seeks his divinity by inflicting pain.
Delirious as these worried beasts, his wars
Dance to the tightened carcass of a drum,
While he calls courage still that native dread
Of the white peace contracted by the dead.

Again brutish necessity wipes its hands
Upon the napkin of a dirty cause, again
A waste of our compassion, as with Spain,
The gorilla wrestles with the superman.
I who am poisoned with the blood of both,
Where shall I turn, divided to the vein?
I who have cursed
The drunken officer of British rule, how choose
Between this Africa and the English tongue I love?
Betray them both, or give back what they give?
How can I face such slaughter and be cool?
How can I turn from Africa and live?

Derek Walcott

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.

Charles Baudelaire

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.

Ben Okri

Mama Africa!
Welcome to Africa,
Mamaa! Mamaa!
Mama Africa my Homeland;
She is Mama Africa!
Welcome into the jungle,
Welcome into her jungle,
Welcome into my world so sweet with the muse of my mind!
Mama Africa's Identity,
My Homeland,
My identity,
With the muse of Africa!
North, south, east and west;
With the muse of Mama Africa.

She is Mama Africa!
Facing the world,
Her muse is for you and me!
The muse of Mama Africa;
Cried the Beloved Child!
Mamaa! Mamaa!
Cried the Beloved Child of Africa.

Hear my voice,
My choice is with my mind;
Hear the echoes of Mama Africa!
The cry of the jungles,
The cry of the streets!
Oh! What a beauty she beholds;
The beauty of Mama Africa.

Africa! Africa! Africa!
Mama Africa my Homeland;
Mamaa! Mamaa!
Oh! What a beauty she beholds;
Oh Mama Africa!
Riches and beauty,
Colours and Natural Resources!
Mama Africa we need you,
We need your sweet love,
Able to carry on our dreams.

The beauty of this continent,
Africa!
The beauty of your Name;
Mama Africa!
The colour of your skin and, the colours of your children;
Mama Africa!
We need your sweet love,
Able to carry on with our Talents.

Edward Kofi Louis

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!

Edward Kofi Louis

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.

Edward Kofi Louis

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

Aldo Kraas

What is Africa to me:
Copper sun or scarlet sea,
Jungle star or jungle track,
Strong bronzed men, or regal black
Women from whose loins I sprang
When the birds of Eden sang?
One three centuries removed
From the scenes his fathers loved,
Spicy grove, cinnamon tree,
What is Africa to me?

So I lie, who all day long
Want no sound except the song
Sung by wild barbaric birds
Goading massive jungle herds,
Juggernauts of flesh that pass
Trampling tall defiant grass
Where young forest lovers lie,
Plighting troth beneath the sky.
So I lie, who always hear,
Though I cram against my ear
Both my thumbs, and keep them there,
Great drums throbbing through the air.
So I lie, whose fount of pride,
Dear distress, and joy allied,
Is my somber flesh and skin,
With the dark blood dammed within
Like great pulsing tides of wine
That, I fear, must burst the fine
Channels of the chafing net
Where they surge and foam and fret.

Africa?A book one thumbs
Listlessly, till slumber comes.
Unremembered are her bats
Circling through the night, her cats
Crouching in the river reeds,
Stalking gentle flesh that feeds
By the river brink; no more
Does the bugle-throated roar
Cry that monarch claws have leapt
From the scabbards where they slept.
Silver snakes that once a year
Doff the lovely coats you wear,
Seek no covert in your fear
Lest a mortal eye should see;
What's your nakedness to me?
Here no leprous flowers rear
Fierce corollas in the air;
Here no bodies sleek and wet,
Dripping mingled rain and sweat,
Tread the savage measures of
Jungle boys and girls in love.
What is last year's snow to me,
Last year's anything? The tree
Budding yearly must forget
How its past arose or setญญ
Bough and blossom, flower, fruit,
Even what shy bird with mute
Wonder at her travail there,
Meekly labored in its hair.
One three centuries removed
From the scenes his fathers loved,
Spicy grove, cinnamon tree,
What is Africa to me?

So I lie, who find no peace
Night or day, no slight release
From the unremittent beat
Made by cruel padded feet
Walking through my body's street.
Up and down they go, and back,
Treading out a jungle track.
So I lie, who never quite
Safely sleep from rain at night--
I can never rest at all
When the rain begins to fall;
Like a soul gone mad with pain
I must match its weird refrain;
Ever must I twist and squirm,
Writhing like a baited worm,
While its primal measures drip
Through my body, crying, "Strip!
Doff this new exuberance.
Come and dance the Lover's Dance!"
In an old remembered way
Rain works on me night and day.

Quaint, outlandish heathen gods
Black men fashion out of rods,
Clay, and brittle bits of stone,
In a likeness like their own,
My conversion came high-priced;
I belong to Jesus Christ,
Preacher of humility;
Heathen gods are naught to me.

Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
So I make an idle boast;
Jesus of the twice-turned cheek,
Lamb of God, although I speak
With my mouth thus, in my heart
Do I play a double part.
Ever at Thy glowing altar
Must my heart grow sick and falter,
Wishing He I served were black,
Thinking then it would not lack
Precedent of pain to guide it,
Let who would or might deride it;
Surely then this flesh would know
Yours had borne a kindred woe.
Lord, I fashion dark gods, too,
Daring even to give You
Dark despairing features where,
Crowned with dark rebellious hair,
Patience wavers just so much as
Mortal grief compels, while touches
Quick and hot, of anger, rise
To smitten cheek and weary eyes.
Lord, forgive me if my need
Sometimes shapes a human creed.

All day long and all night through,
One thing only must I do:
Quench my pride and cool my blood,
Lest I perish in the flood.
Lest a hidden ember set
Timber that I thought was wet
Burning like the dryest flax,
Melting like the merest wax,
Lest the grave restore its dead.
Not yet has my heart or head
In the least way realized
They and I are civilized.

Countee Cullen

Comments


Aloha i write about your the
Dec 21, 2024

Hallo, ek wou jou prys ken.

Awesome, good read!
Nov 19, 2024

Shiba was tamed until he was not. So Shadow varnished into thin air ๐Ÿค”

I can't find The Republic ๐Ÿ˜ญ๐Ÿ˜ข
Nov 11, 2024

I remember reading "The Republic" from this website but now I can't find it. ๐Ÿ˜ข๐Ÿ˜ข

Enjoyed reading Love is blind
Oct 11, 2024

On Love is blind, Layla should have left Raymond immediately after the first incident. Or maybe Raymond used muthi ๐Ÿ˜ƒ

My go to nook for quick reads
Oct 07, 2024

Interesting reads. I enjoy the games as well

Love in the skies
Sep 25, 2024

Cheating Koutney, she cheated to her demies. Lessons to be learned. If only she remained loyal to her husband.

Love is blind
Sep 11, 2024

Rayray is a savage.

Love triangle
Sep 09, 2024

I enjoyed Love In The Skies. ... I can relate :(

The Republic - Part 2 ???
Aug 24, 2024

Mzizi wa Kenya

Love is blind indeed
Aug 11, 2024

Is it fear, love or stockholm syndrome

Reading is to the mind what exercise is to the body. The more you read, the more things you will know. The more you learn, The more places you will go.

What To Read Next?

The land is ours

The Land Is Ours describes the journey of South Africa's first black lawyers during the late 1800s and early 1900s. Despite aggressive colonial expansion and land dispossession, these men believed in a constitutional system that respected individual rights and freedoms, and they used the law to fight against injustice.

Tembeka Ngcukaitobi

Our Lady of Benoni

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.

Zakes Mda

An African Tale: Khotso

"During the South African Boer war an American Colonel John Blake falls in love with a Boer woman and fights for the country and her cause."
Side story: - The current Boer leader adopts Khotso, an orphaned African boy, and raises him to be the only person he can rely on to bury the Kruger Millions.

Danzel Fegen

Die Lewe is 'n Asem Lank

"'n Versameling van 100 gedigte oor verlies en vertroosting deur van Afrikaans se bekendste digters. Dis verse die dood, rou, afskeid, verganklikheid en menswees. Die lewe is 'n asem lank is die ideale geskenk aan iemand wat 'n geliefde vir altyd moes groet ? veral wanneer 'n mens nie die woorde kan vind om te troos nie."

Frieda van den Heever

African Stories

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.

Doris Lessing
โ€œ

A year from now you may wish you had started today.

Karen Lamb

"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."

Desmond Tutu
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