African Renaissance
When bad mothers happen
N obody talks about the abuse or the familiar hands that we suffered it from now that we're (my siblings and I) are...
I speak of freedom
T he divine meeting of the class system in South Africa, the failure of our curriculum, the failure for the 2016 matriculants, the...
‘Call it a difficult night’: Book Review
M ishka Hoosen is young. She is also intelligent. She is brave and she is brilliant. She is also very clever, funny and...
Gandhi and potential
Today as I write this the voice of Mahatma Gandhi is inside my head grooming me I think in ways that are imagined and...
A coming of age story
Illusions like self-esteem, self-worth, the Sigmund Freud’s ego, superego, ID, and our body image. Those images are not real. Nothing really of substance. They...
Spring: A passionate life in words
The leaves wastes dance with confidence in the air. The wind reminds me of the mysterious chill of autumn. An eloquent, articulate state of...
Coloured Trauma
I don’t remember the past. For a long time, in schools in Port Elizabeth. Swaziland and Johannesburg I was very unhappy with myself. I...
A letter to my fellow countrymen in South Africa
Let us start with what makes me unhappy comrades. This undiscovered bridge called language or rather mother tongue. The life of the artist, poet,...
Millennials, peace and war in our time
They have a name. Millennial. Revolutionary. Comrade. Countryman. Youth. They have shamed us into thinking what was impossible before. The rest of us are...
Why I write the way I do
In futurity I want to find new realities in the notes from the universe. I think that is why I fluctuate from putting pen...