08 December 2010


Title: AfroConscious
Author(s): Multiple authors across Africa
Genre: Poetry/Articles
Pages: 42
Publisher: Self published
Year of Publication: 2010
ISBN: 9780 626 49084


A compilation of contemporary Poetry Fiction Non-Fiction Reviews Features Art from across the African landscape
South Africa Mozambique Ghana Nigeria


The rebirth of Kweku Ananse - Kofi Anane Kyeremeh
To her - Fadil Ishak Dapilaa
Filial love - Luzuko Gongxeka
Trapped Gagged Tongue tied - Zinzi Voyiya
Throw It Away - Kofi Anane Kyeremeh
Lest we forget - Vuyokazi S. Yonke
Christianity - Fezekile Futhwa
am i just another? - Emmanuel Ekosse
She is you -- Tsepo Gumbi
The court jester - Xolile Sizephe
Father Figures - Siya Ayanda Mbuyazi
Imagine - Olawale Adineran
Rationalizing with I - Sibongisiwe Sibeko
Sunday Confessions - Ouma Mokwana
Memory, be silent -- Danny Hanson
One Peace - Tshepo Tshabalala
Ke mo bonetse - Mpho Matsitle
Mental circumcision - Sechaba Keketsi

Sparkling women - Vuyokazi S. Yonke
Consciousness - Karabo Mkhabela

Book review and interview:
Waking Up Dead (Roger Smith) - Tshepo Tshabalala

Illustrator - Ivan Muhambe
Compiler - Vuyokazi S Yonke

Everyone has a story. Here is the platform to share yours in your own words. Write what U like!

The publication is available from Vuyokazi in Cape Town and around Johannesburg on the 16-21st December 2010.
Order by email: uwritewhatulike@gmail.com
R30 cash. R40 incl. postage

You have heard all the hype through the Facebook group: Afrikan Poets and Writers, now its time YOU believed the hype- The Book IS out!
Formerly known as U WRITE WHAT U LIKE, has now been christened as AfroConscious, you can own the first issue- it is a must have collection from youth all across the landscape of Africa!

The reason for the name change?
I was telling Ms Lunika from the National Library about this project and I mentioned the name U write what U like, and she said: "Couldn't you be more original?"
Then the name AfroConscious just materialised and I've gone for it.

I hope you enjoy this African feast of words!

The illustration on the front and back cover appear courtesy of Ivan Muhambe (Mozambique)

26 November 2010

VACANCY: Editor for a MultiMedia Publisher

Remuneration: R20000 - R25000 per month basic salary

Province: Gauteng

Job description

Our client a leading South African multi-media magazine Publisher, Conference and Exhibition company focused on Building Services, Building Design and Mining Industry sectors is Looking for an editor to manage the specific editorial of publications, ensuring editorial is supplied on time, meeting the high standards of the publication and industry requirements making the business a success. Get involved and maintain good working relationships within the industry, used to obtain good quality editorial for all the publications and the implementation of editorial policy. To be the person all industry players know and associate with the client successful publications further opening up opportunities for the development of current and possible publications.

Dynamic motivated individual with a design and creative interest to take new publications to the next level.

Implement and maintain a minimum of four month publication planning and delivery of material to ensure deadlines are met four issues ahead
In conjunction with group editor and prepare and document six monthly strategic views on all the publications, ensuring the strategy is successfully implemented
Produce the quality of material for the print and online publications ensuring relevance, accuracy, quality, truthfulness and innovative
Responsible to collate and pull all info together to ensure a complete publication within agreed timeline
Check all work submitted by the department before submission to layout
Proactively review the look and feel of the publications to maintain market leaders
Pro-actively liaise with production and layout departments in order to achieve the job function.
Proof and edit all editorial prior to being published
Attend editorial and operational meetings and ensure accurate reporting on progress of publication.
Co-ordinate contributors (Staff writers and external contributors) where applicable and their output for the specific industry/publication in line with departmental and company strategy maintaining the highest quality required by the company and the industry
Define and document staff measurement in line with company goals
policies and strategy revised annually
Define and document staff development criteria
Verbally and in writing continually assess staff as per company policy against the measurement and development agreed to
Implement / maintain and enhance required controls and processes within the department to create efficiency and effectiveness of the output of the editorial department in line with company policies and procedures
Implement all required incentives, corrective action and performance management as required including the initiation of disciplinary action
Document and recruit staff per the requirements following all necessary company policies
Proactively and continuously assess department capacity, implementing necessary actions to minimise the impact to staff, department and the company
Review and Sub-Edit ALL work supplied by department ensuring the correctness, accuracy, relevance legality
Implement and report on metrics for the department monthly management meeting

Online Publishing

Edit online articles
Administration and management of online content and users
Increase and Develop online readers / community / users
Interaction between sales and editorial for developing and maintaining online advertising
Define and carry out online publishing requirements as required by directors


Excellent technical writing / editorial
Staff management (where applicable)
Information sourcing and correct interpretation skills
Organisational and planning skills
Administration skills
Building of positive long lasting working relations associated with job function
Decision maker

Contact details: New Media Talent, info@newmediatalent.co.za

Drought-Striken Captain

This poem was published under the Weekly Mail Poet’s Paradise early 2009
under the name Gender Based Violence


Their plane was ready for departure
To lick and caress the smooth runaway
The runway woven from spontaneous agreements
The husband the captain, the wife the assistant
They repelled their plane from the ground
Long in the air, like airborne pollutants
The plane’s nose no longer moved horizontally
Dressed with a calm mind, fed by an organized conscience
The assistant attempted to neutralize his acidity
But was constantly reminded who the captain was

Her nose was whipped with smell of rotten communication
Yet dressed with a calm mind, plane had to be back in order
Repeatedly kissed by salty lips of poor translating skills
The captain set ablaze the handouts of advice
Inhaled the flames, then boosted his fits
For in his boardroom, suggestions and objections
Translated to an insult to his integrity
Good thing English wasn’t his major at varsity

His fists consumed her face repeatedly
Sucked blood from the eyes, tears from the nose
Yet her face carried no bruises or scars
He smoked the cigarette of triumph
As the blood sucked collected into a well
Evaporated into air her lungs refused to process

The veins of his brutal mentality enlarged
The skin of his gun grew greedier
Lethally injected the breasts of her personality
That once fed his best interests
That once strengthened the bones of his self esteem
His non-metallic gun raped her positivity
For his bullets were words
Nothing destroys as angry, brutal words!

Yet still the plane had to be back in order
He continued caressing the thighs of failure
As cockpit buttons fueled sparks of confusion
Traffic controllers bellowed this and that
What success was guaranteed?
He was deafened by the wall of his stubbornness

Filled to capacity with trash he exhaled
Fingers of her pain transformed to a lion’s teeth
Chewed the safety belts of “till death do us part”
Two steps back, out of the cockpit
Escorted by the parachute of acceptance
Poor woman headed for safety
For she realized and accepted
The punch of bitter words sends you into a coma
Paralyze your inner being, inner beauty
Nothing destroys as angry, brutal words!

An onlooker couldn’t help but ask,
Who the hell taught this captain how to fly?
Couldn’t help but wish sunshine upon darkness he breathed
And said, let the captain splash into the ocean
The sharks bite him not with their tooth
But with the sharp blunt truth
That he be no different from a rapist
That no problem is solved by a problem
Or else the solution will be as useless, pointless
As abusing a woman!

©Sechaba Keketsi

12 November 2010

Poets Paradise Male Poets Gender based Violence Project

Hellow fam.This is a first post on this blog about the Lesotho Poetry Sphere.
I am more than delighted to present here part of what Lesotho poets have been doing in castigating against Gender Based violence.Poets Paradise is a Weekly Mail newspaper(free Lesotho weekly) poetry column coordinated by a poet for poets.The following poems are but part of the poems that were published under the column's Gender Based violence project which was only open to male poets.The idea behind allowing only male poets was not to segregate or whatsoever but rather to inspire, trigger male poets to stand up and castigat other males who abuse.



Published under Weekly Mail Poets Paradise Male Poets project 2010

The lick of his torture tongue aggravates the pain

Like she has lungs immersed in blood, she coughs Hurts,

exhales the agony through her eyes.

May tries so hard to erect barriers of defense

But only with liquid self-confidence,

then Step-grand father has already jumped the boarders

And invaded the territory of this virgin heart,

His verbal barbed wire strips the flesh

From her self-esteem and breaks her back-bone

Leaving blood oozing from the wounds within

Every night hell breaks loose with ‘the supreme

Demon’ caressing her thighs and breasts,

Reading through ‘her book’ that she once promised

Herself to keep it closed until she reaches twenty one.

Her interior landscapes polluted by fear toxins

She inhales from the monster figure’s atmosphere,

She keeps her mouth absolutely shut.

She has no one to cry to because: her grand mother

Ceased to exist when May was six,

on her Father’s family she is a rejected seed,

And her father died when she was conceived

While her mother passed on during her Birth time.

”I guess life is mean, she said”.

Every day she is dressed in tears with

Nile eroding her facial make up,

Hiding her hurts and fears with a Fake fragile smile,

but analyzing the Situation through her eyes,

even a blind man Could see that deep down she is lost soul.

Abhorrence woven into every fabric of her thoughts,

She is disgusted by every glimpse of him,

and how She hates his hands invading her private faculties!

The lick of his torture tongue aggravates the pain

Like she has her lungs immersed in blood,

she Exudes hurts, and exhales the agony through her eyes!

Being tongue-tied and introvert,

silence murders May’s self-worth crushes it into fine fragments,

She is emotionally cold, and so is the name.

She writes sad episodes of her life, trying to find a healing

For the misery the future is about to unfold,

As the destiny the heavens are about to unfold.

Internally bleeding, turning emotionally cold At the age of thirteen

longing for happiness She once tasted as a child of six.

Survival is tougher than that of the seeds

That fell on concrete streets.

She decides to be bold, and takes the matter to the police,

Guess what she gets from the police officer!

A sense of relief – one would think, not exactly that

But her heart-rending experience is exacerbated,

Like step-grand dad, he too forces himself

On her as to ‘harden the evidence’.

Indeed she was born from the sorry side

She thinks of choosing the grave over life

By committing suicide; because the hand that once Protected her

and nurtured her is the hand that finally Molested her.

On second thoughts, she makes a phone Call to the toll free number: 0800 05 5555,

Lays and presses charges of abuse and rape,

Being the person she is talking to

I totally decide to find her psychiatric treatment,

Lock the monsters up, offer them prison cells

As their lifetime homes ’cause that’s where they belong.

It’s upon ordinary people like you and I to eradicate

This kind of behavior from our lives’ scenes


MPOBA is a member of Poets Alive Crew(PAC)a Lesotho male only poetry group

Lyrical Bacteria

In The Name Of Poetry Be Inspired
In The Name Of The Most High Be Blessed

10 November 2010

STATS dont lie!

Herewith the Latest Blog Visito Stats since we started off end of June 2010!
Thanks for the support.

Fat Lady Next Door by Kofi Anane Kyeremeh
Jul 28, 2010, 3 comments 48 Pageviews

... on women... to women... for women... By Luzuko Gongxeka
Aug 4, 2010, 2 comments 46 Pageviews

About the U WRITE WHAT U LIKE project
Oct 6, 2010 44 Pageviews
(Issue 1 Volume 1 coming SOON!)

Sparkling Women
Aug 23, 2010, 1 comment 42 Pageviews
(Get your hands on a copy)

I am an AFRI-CAN! Thabo Mbeki
Sep 5, 2010 37 Pageviews
(Infinite Inspiration!)


16 Days of Activism Against Gender Violence

Call for Submissions: African Women's Millenium Initiative "Share Your Thoughts" 16 Days of Activism Campaign
Deadline: 19 November 2010

Every year since 1991, the time period of November 25 (International Day Against Violence Against Women) to December 10 (International Human Rights Day) has been recognized as the 16 Days of Activism Against Gender Violence. Throughout this period, women and youth groups, development practitioners, human rights activists, every day people like you and I, have stood up in their own way to discount gender violence and promote human rights. This year's theme focuses on violence in the context of conflict, and with gruesome instances like the high incidence of rape in Congo, it couldn't come at a better time.

Since its inception in 2005, AWOMI has worked with local African women and youth on issues pertaining to gender violence and human rights. During our biannual Young Women's Knowlegde and Leadership Institute (YOWLI), young activists from Africa and the Diaspora are trained on gender violence issues like rape, female genital mutilation, domestic violence and so on. Such workshops not only help in informing our YOWLI participants and graduates, but also promote story sharing.

YOWLI 2008 participants using silent theatre performances to depict rape during their Gender Violence training

In that vein, AWOMI would like to invite its YOWLI network - past, present (and maybe even future) - partners, and supporters to participate in the AWOMI's "Share Your Thoughts" 16 Days of Activism Campaign by submitting articles, blog posts, videos, commentary on publications, creative writing - anything really - for publication right here on the AWOMI blog.

By sharing your thoughts, experiences, concerns and so on around the theme "Structures of Violence: Defining the Intersections of Militarism and Violence Against Women", particularly as it relates to Africa, you will help put a face and voice to the millions of women who haven't the opportunity to share their stories and realities, and in so doing help reverse the trend.

YOWLI 2008 Participants using silent theatre pieces to depict domestic violence.

Some suggested topics from the 16 Days of Activism official website include:

- Economic consequences of war on women
- Women’s role in peace negotiations, peace-building, diplomacy and decision-making positions
-Abuse of sexual and reproductive rights in conflict situations
-Women and girl’s vulnerability as refugees and internally displaced persons (IDPs)
-Environmental contamination by military operations and its consequences for women and children
-Suspension of rule of law and basic human rights in an “emergency”
-Military spending by government – cost-analysis compared to social programs

(For the full list, kindly visit http://16dayscwgl.rutgers.edu/2010-campaign/theme-announcement)

Submission Guidelines:

-All submissions should relate to Africa and/or the Diaspora
-Submissions can be English or French
- Entries should be a maximum of 500-700 words (for written submissions) or 5-7 minutes (for audio and video)
-Please include your full name, age, and nationality with your submission. If you are part of the YOWLI network, include your country chapter and/or year of participation
-Entries should be sent to awomiweb@gmail.com by Friday, November 19 at 12 midnight GMT

We hope to hear from you and look forward to sharing and learning! It takes one person to influence the state of events.

The 16 Days Campaign has been used as an organizing strategy by individuals and groups around the world to call for the elimination of all forms of violence against women by:

* raising awareness about gender-based violence as a human rights issue at the local, national, regional and international levels
* strengthening local work around violence against women
* establishing a clear link between local and international work to end violence against women
* providing a forum in which organizers can develop and share new and effective strategies
* demonstrating the solidarity of women around the world organizing against violence against women
* creating tools to pressure governments to implement promises made to eliminate violence against women

More information here.

U write what U like: Latest Contributor from Lesotho

It's with infinite pleasure to welcome an addition to the U write what U like Fam, Sechaba Keketsi- welcome home!

Who is Sechaba?

Sechaba "Lyrical Bacteria" Keketsi is a well-acclaimed and highly sort after poet in Lesotho. Known for the power with which he spits words in his recitation, the truth in his content, and his ability to blend Sotho with english exceptionally in his poems he is known to many as a gifted spirit and a good breath of poetry.

He harbors a paper column called Poets Paradise in one of the local newspapers.The column is by far the only poetry column in any newpaper in Lesotho; sharing not only his gift but of many other local poets.

He recently launched the Letsibolo Poetry Project - a project exploring the philosophy behind poetry. He is also part of a prominent group of poets called Poetry Farm, and together they work on taking Lesotho's poetry beyond the borders of the Kingdom


Thank you, Sechaba, we look orward to great things from you for Lesotho and Africa!

13 October 2010

Ghanaian and Proud - Kofi Anane Kyeremeh

Born on a Friday
So they call me Kofi.
And from this black soil I hail;
A citizen of a great country.
Ghanaian And Proud.

My thickset lips,
Furrowed brows
And oily black skin
Registers my nationality.
Ghanaian And Proud.

Like the Red of purpose
Or the Gold of achievement;
Maybe the Green of progress
Together with the Black
Yes the blackness of my skin
And of my joy.
Ghanaian And Proud.

If you are African, be happy.
If you are Ghanaian, happier still.
Just like me;
Ghanaian And Proud!!!

Kofi Anane Kyeremeh

06 October 2010

About the project

U write what U like is a project that has been in planning since 2009, between Emmanuel Ekosse and Vuyokazi Yonke. The idea formed through the love for written and spoken word, as well as visual art.
We have identified the need for growth and long term sustainability of literature in Africa.
Through the Facebook group, Afrikan Poets and Writers, we have opened up a platform for new poets, authors and artists to voice and showcase their talents. The Facebook group comprises of many members,
across the African continent and abroad.

Our aim is to:
- unlock undiscovered creative writing talent amongst unpublished African writers, within Africa and those who may be abroad.
- allow new voices and fresh dialogue from the African youth to ensure the continuation of African writings, by and for Africans.
- build a bridge amongst writers from different African countries, as sharing our experiences will create a sense of unity and hopefully mutual understanding.
- for African youth to have that platform to express their thoughts and views with no inhibitions or constraints.
Everyone has a story. We provide the platform to share yours in your own words. Write what U like!

In June 2010, the blog, www.uwritewhatulike.blogspot.com, became live. Featuring poetry chosen from the posts uploaded by the members on the Afrikan Poets and Writer's discussion board.
The name U write what U like is inspired by the writings of Steve Biko.
There are set themes which writers can use as a guide for their writings, the themes vary from love, to heritage and we also allow the freestyle of writing.
The blog is marketed through the Facebook and Twitter mediums for exposure, and is receiving a steady flow of visitors.
The postings on the blog vary from poetry to non fiction, competitions and literary information.
On the blog we would only post excerpts of the work submitted, the rest would appear in the Journal.
We would print selected writings for the pilot project as a Journal for sale and use the proceeds into publication of the second series, prefferably with different authors.


U write what U like seeks to source the written work and the visual art in order to publish our combined work into a Journal.
Therefore we invite individuals to share with us their creativity, we accept creative writing and visual art from all contributors, irregardless of age, gender and nationality.
You can submit your written work- poetry, short story, articles, review, interview, and artwork, for review on the Afrikan Poets and Writers on Facebook. You can also submit your work email, uwritewhatulike@gmail.com.

Everyone has a story. Here is the platform to share yours in your own words. Write what U like!

30 September 2010

Father Figures - Siya Ayanda Mbuyazi

Father Figures

Nature tells us that from around the age of four, children can tell conclusively the difference between the sexes and will then gradually gravitate towards, associate and copy those of their gender. It is this natural evolvement that leads so many an innocent young boys to that pursuit of the noblest of male-to-male bonds: the father figure.

Naturally and maybe somewhat ideally, this would be the biological father, but then again this is neither an ideal world nor a perfect life so very many have had to make do. Do not get me wrong, I am by no means saying that the absence of this illusive father figure person will, by default, have adverse effects on the grooming and rearing of a young man's life. But indulge me if you will, we man truly are our father's sons.

Spring 1956, my father made his debut on earth in the rural pastures of Dondotha, a vast mountainous land 250kms north of Durban. Unknown to him at the time his very outlook on life would be strongly influenced by another man, a man born just World War 1 came to surprise end, a man raised in what my generation can only call the most primitive of existence. These are the man that would- one directly, the other somewhat indirectly- have a significant influence on my life. Now my inquisitive mind kicks in, can the values of the mid-1920s that shaped my grandfather's life path, sill be found in my subconscious DNA? Exactly how much of what this man taught him, did my father pass down to me? At what cost?

15 September 2010

Sponsored Certificates in Film Making

Big Fish School of Digital Filmmaking, the award-winning film school, is now offering fully sponsored National Certificates in Filmmaking in Cape Town.

The courses are entry level (NQF 4) and intermediate (NQF 5) level and are available to energetic, organized, entrepreneurial, committed, reliable and innovative individuals that are committed to succeed in the Film and TV industry.

The NQF 4 course content includes introduction in directing, cinematography, production management/producing, editing, sound, research and understanding script.

The NQF 5 course objective is to expand on current knowledge, upskilling those who have already proved commitment and passion to the industry and want to specialize in their chosen electives.

Training is project focused, working in all disciplines related to the film industry. Tutoring and mentoring are by South Africa's top leading professionals and using state-of-the-art equipment. At Big Fish we also create simulated and actual workplace experiences for course participants.

DURATION: 34 weeks per course (8 Months)
COURSE START DATES: Mid-January 2011 - Mid-September 2011
TIMES: 09h00 - 16h30, Monday to Friday
COST: Fully Sponsored



Applicants are to be available for a 34 week period.

NQF 4 requires Grade 12 and with proof of passion, commitment and interest in the sector.

NQF 5 requires minimum three years experience in the Film and TV sector and/or previous tertiary training or certification in the sector.

Applicants to send their CV as soon as possible to Connie Mosegedi on: mosegedic@bigfish.org.za or for further information call 011 482 5599 or www.bigfish.org.za.

Mappp Seta registration number Bihgh7MAPP08012186

Web site: http://www.bigfish.org.za/

What is POETRY?


poem for andile mngxitama
on the morning of that splendid day of looting
the blacks poured in to gardens wearing
pangas and machettes, cut their way
into melissa’s, and ordered 43 000
flat whites
to go

09 September 2010

African Arts Institute Film-makers Competition

The African Arts Institute and Artists Unite as One Campaign use the arts to fight xenophobia.

On the 24th of September 2010, aspiring young film-makers and concerned individuals will come together on National Heritage Day to view thought-provoking short film pieces that address the current xenophobia crisis gripping our country post-world cup. This showcase will take place at the Labia Theatre, Orange Street, Cape Town and will take the form of a competition, which will be judged on the day of the showing, by professional film gurus and the public at large. The winner will come away with various prizes including a tour to the Cape Town Film Studios in Faure, and be part of the Artists Unite as One Campaign events.

The African Arts Institute, which focuses on building markets for African goods and creative services in South Africa with the added focus of promoting understanding and mutual respect between South Africans and immigrants from other African countries, encourages all aspiring young film-makers to submit their film pieces.

SUBMISSION DEADLINE: 10 September 2010, by 17h00

Submit your powerful films on Xenophobia in South Africa, or related themes around refugees, immigration, tolerance, human rights, conflict and democracy.

20-25min films on CD/DVD to be dropped off at African Arts Institute, 25 Commercial Street, Cape Town.


Six of the best films will be selected and shown at the Labia Theatre, Orange Street, Cape Town on Heritage day, 24 September 2010. Audience and Judges will vote for the best film and the winner will win various film-related prizes, mentorship programme plus a guided tour to the Cape Town Film Studios in Stellenbosch. The winner will also be automatically entered into Artists Unite as One campaign events which are being featured around the Western Cape to educate communities and heighten awareness around these issues.

VIEW & VOTE on 24 September 2010

Influential members of the South African arts and media community will be attending the showcase at the Labia Theatre, Orange Street, Cape Town, on Heritage Day, 24 September 2010, to view and vote on the best film shown.


This is your opportunity to get your work seen by our judging panel. Judges include representatives from the Durban International Film Festival and The Cape Film Commission/ Documentary Filmmakers Association, among others.

Be sure not to miss out. Stand up and be counted as concerned South Africans and Africans united as one.

For more information or to RSVP to this event, please contact: Patricia Matongo, AFAI showcase project manager at 073 246 3668 or e-mail pmatongo@yahoo.com.

About the African Arts Institute (AFAI)

The African Arts Institute's vision is for a vibrant, dynamic and sustainable African creative sector that contributes to development, human rights and democracy on the continent, and projects African aesthetics and intellectual content into the international arena.

The African Arts Institute also houses the Secretariat of the Arterial Network, a dynamic civil society network of individuals, institutions and funding partners working to support the effectiveness and growth of African arts and culture in civil society.

05 September 2010

I am an AFRI-CAN! Thabo Mbeki

Esteemed President of the democratic Republic,
Honourable Members of the Constitutional Assembly,
Our distinguished domestic and foreign guests,

On an occasion such as this, we should, perhaps, start from the beginning.

So, let me begin.

I am an African.

I owe my being to the hills and the valleys, the mountains and the glades, the rivers, the deserts, the trees, the flowers, the seas and the ever-changing seasons that define the face of our native land.

My body has frozen in our frosts and in our latter day snows. It has thawed in the warmth of our sunshine and melted in the heat of the midday sun. The crack and the rumble of the summer thunders, lashed by startling lightening, have been a cause both of trembling and of hope.

The fragrances of nature have been as pleasant to us as the sight of the wild blooms of the citizens of the veld.

The dramatic shapes of the Drakensberg, the soil-coloured waters of the Lekoa, iGqili noThukela, and the sands of the Kgalagadi, have all been panels of the set on the natural stage on which we act out the foolish deeds of the theatre of our day.

At times, and in fear, I have wondered whether I should concede equal citizenship of our country to the leopard and the lion, the elephant and the springbok, the hyena, the black mamba and the pestilential mosquito.

A human presence among all these, a feature on the face of our native land thus defined, I know that none dare challenge me when I say - I am an African!

I owe my being to the Khoi and the San whose desolate souls haunt the great expanses of the beautiful Cape - they who fell victim to the most merciless genocide our native land has ever seen, they who were the first to lose their lives in the struggle to defend our freedom and dependence and they who, as a people, perished in the result.

Today, as a country, we keep an audible silence about these ancestors of the generations that live, fearful to admit the horror of a former deed, seeking to obliterate from our memories a cruel occurrence which, in its remembering, should teach us not and never to be inhuman again.

I am formed of the migrants who left Europe to find a new home on our native land. Whatever their own actions, they remain still, part of me.

In my veins courses the blood of the Malay slaves who came from the East. Their proud dignity informs my bearing, their culture a part of my essence. The stripes they bore on their bodies from the lash of the slave master are a reminder embossed on my consciousness of what should not be done.

I am the grandchild of the warrior men and women that Hintsa and Sekhukhune led, the patriots that Cetshwayo and Mphephu took to battle, the soldiers Moshoeshoe and Ngungunyane taught never to dishonour the cause of freedom.

My mind and my knowledge of myself is formed by the victories that are the jewels in our African crown, the victories we earned from Isandhlwana to Khartoum, as Ethiopians and as the Ashanti of Ghana, as the Berbers of the desert.

I am the grandchild who lays fresh flowers on the Boer graves at St Helena and the Bahamas, who sees in the mind's eye and suffers the suffering of a simple peasant folk, death, concentration camps, destroyed homesteads, a dream in ruins.

I am the child of Nongqause. I am he who made it possible to trade in the world markets in diamonds, in gold, in the same food for which my stomach yearns.

I come of those who were transported from India and China, whose being resided in the fact, solely, that they were able to provide physical labour, who taught me that we could both be at home and be foreign, who taught me that human existence itself demanded that freedom was a necessary condition for that human existence.

Being part of all these people, and in the knowledge that none dare contest that assertion, I shall claim that - I am an African.

I have seen our country torn asunder as these, all of whom are my people, engaged one another in a titanic battle, the one redress a wrong that had been caused by one to another and the other, to defend the indefensible.

I have seen what happens when one person has superiority of force over another, when the stronger appropriate to themselves the prerogative even to annul the injunction that God created all men and women in His image.

I know what if signifies when race and colour are used to determine who is human and who, sub-human.

I have seen the destruction of all sense of self-esteem, the consequent striving to be what one is not, simply to acquire some of the benefits which those who had improved themselves as masters had ensured that they enjoy.

I have experience of the situation in which race and colour is used to enrich some and impoverish the rest.

I have seen the corruption of minds and souls in the pursuit of an ignoble effort to perpetrate a veritable crime against humanity.

I have seen concrete expression of the denial of the dignity of a human being emanating from the conscious, systemic and systematic oppressive and repressive activities of other human beings.

There the victims parade with no mask to hide the brutish reality - the beggars, the prostitutes, the street children, those who seek solace in substance abuse, those who have to steal to assuage hunger, those who have to lose their sanity because to be sane is to invite pain.

Perhaps the worst among these, who are my people, are those who have learnt to kill for a wage. To these the extent of death is directly proportional to their personal welfare.

And so, like pawns in the service of demented souls, they kill in furtherance of the political violence in KwaZulu-Natal. They murder the innocent in the taxi wars.

They kill slowly or quickly in order to make profits from the illegal trade in narcotics. They are available for hire when husband wants to murder wife and wife, husband.

Among us prowl the products of our immoral and amoral past - killers who have no sense of the worth of human life, rapists who have absolute disdain for the women of our country, animals who would seek to benefit from the vulnerability of the children, the disabled and the old, the rapacious who brook no obstacle in their quest for self-enrichment.

All this I know and know to be true because I am an African!

Because of that, I am also able to state this fundamental truth that I am born of a people who are heroes and heroines.

I am born of a people who would not tolerate oppression.

I am of a nation that would not allow that fear of death, torture, imprisonment, exile or persecution should result in the perpetuation of injustice.

The great masses who are our mother and father will not permit that the behaviour of the few results in the description of our country and people as barbaric.

Patient because history is on their side, these masses do not despair because today the weather is bad. Nor do they turn triumphalist when, tomorrow, the sun shines.

Whatever the circumstances they have lived through and because of that experience, they are determined to define for themselves who they are and who they should be.

We are assembled here today to mark their victory in acquiring and exercising their right to formulate their own definition of what it means to be African.

The constitution whose adoption we celebrate constitutes and unequivocal statement that we refuse to accept that our Africanness shall be defined by our race, colour, gender of historical origins.

It is a firm assertion made by ourselves that South Africa belongs to all who live in it, black and white.

It gives concrete expression to the sentiment we share as Africans, and will defend to the death, that the people shall govern.

It recognises the fact that the dignity of the individual is both an objective which society must pursue, and is a goal which cannot be separated from the material well-being of that individual.

It seeks to create the situation in which all our people shall be free from fear, including the fear of the oppression of one national group by another, the fear of the disempowerment of one social echelon by another, the fear of the use of state power to deny anybody their fundamental human rights and the fear of tyranny.

It aims to open the doors so that those who were disadvantaged can assume their place in society as equals with their fellow human beings without regard to colour, race, gender, age or geographic dispersal.

It provides the opportunity to enable each one and all to state their views, promote them, strive for their implementation in the process of governance without fear that a contrary view will be met with repression.

It creates a law-governed society which shall be inimical to arbitrary rule.

It enables the resolution of conflicts by peaceful means rather than resort to force.

It rejoices in the diversity of our people and creates the space for all of us voluntarily to define ourselves as one people.

As an African, this is an achievement of which I am proud, proud without reservation and proud without any feeling of conceit.

Our sense of elevation at this moment also derives from the fact that this magnificent product is the unique creation of African hands and African minds.

Bit it is also constitutes a tribute to our loss of vanity that we could, despite the temptation to treat ourselves as an exceptional fragment of humanity, draw on the accumulated experience and wisdom of all humankind, to define for ourselves what we want to be.

Together with the best in the world, we too are prone to pettiness, petulance, selfishness and short-sightedness.

But it seems to have happened that we looked at ourselves and said the time had come that we make a super-human effort to be other than human, to respond to the call to create for ourselves a glorious future, to remind ourselves of the Latin saying: Gloria est consequenda - Glory must be sought after!

Today it feels good to be an African.

It feels good that I can stand here as a South African and as a foot soldier of a titanic African army, the African National Congress, to say to all the parties represented here, to the millions who made an input into the processes we are concluding, to our outstanding compatriots who have presided over the birth of our founding document, to the negotiators who pitted their wits one against the other, to the unseen stars who shone unseen as the management and administration of the Constitutional Assembly, the advisers, experts and publicists, to the mass communication media, to our friends across the globe - congratulations and well done!

I am an African.

I am born of the peoples of the continent of Africa.

The pain of the violent conflict that the peoples of Liberia, Somalia, the Sudan, Burundi and Algeria is a pain I also bear.

The dismal shame of poverty, suffering and human degradation of my continent is a blight that we share.

The blight on our happiness that derives from this and from our drift to the periphery of the ordering of human affairs leaves us in a persistent shadow of despair.

This is a savage road to which nobody should be condemned.

This thing that we have done today, in this small corner of a great continent that has contributed so decisively to the evolution of humanity says that Africa reaffirms that she is continuing her rise from the ashes.

Whatever the setbacks of the moment, nothing can stop us now!
Whatever the difficulties, Africa shall be at peace!
However improbable it may sound to the sceptics, Africa will prosper!

Whoever we may be, whatever our immediate interest, however much we carry baggage from our past, however much we have been caught by the fashion of cynicism and loss of faith in the capacity of the people, let us err today and say - nothing can stop us now!

Thank you

23 August 2010

Sparkling Women

Facebook, has opened quite a few avenues for me I hadnt even thought of. I was aware of the platform but did not think it would suit me,
I had adopted a negative perception of the socail media. Years later, November 2008, I joined the masses.
The number of strangers that eventually became friends was unexpected. I was fortunate to meet people who shared the same love I have for reading, writing and debate.
I was heavily influenced by them and I was able to tap into an undiscovered well of words within.

The journey in writing led me to sparkling women like Emma Harvey, who went on to publish a collection of poetry by different authors, titled Competing Loves (2009).
On the way I befriended Zinzi Voyiya who introduced me to Cheryl Roberts,who enjoyed my written work and included it in her 2nd and 3rd publication of Sparkling Women.

Who are Sparkling Women?

Sparkling Women is a publication that is compiled by Cheryl Roberts, she publishes the material through her own Havana Media enterprise
and offers the publication for free.
The first Sparkling Women appeared in August 2009, the next appeared in November of the same year.
On the 15th of August I was lucky enough to lay my hands on the third and latest copy.
The publication highlights women in sports, arts, your community member making a difference- you know, your everyday woman.

Who is Cheryl Roberts?

Wentworth, Durban is where this sparkling woman was nurtured. She developed a passion for sports at an early age
and went on to represent South Africa at the Barcelona Olympics.
She has since dedicated her efforts in the development of non-racial sports in disadvantaged communities.
Except for Sparkling Women, Cheryl produces other publications - S.A. Sportswoman and South African Sport.
In these publications she exposes the plight of disadvantaged sports people, she also challenges the male dominated sports media.

Cheryl on the role of women in sports:

"S.A.girls and women want to play Sport. They are bold, beautiful, talented and penniless.
Why do their sport talents go unnoticed in a country which prides itself on gender equality?"

Cheryl on women's day:

"Is today about saying happy
women’s day?
And tomorrow? Happy abuse, oppression and exploitation day?
And the
following months, years and decades?
...Happy women’s struggle?
......women, particularly,
poor, socially disadvantaged, economically exploited and abused women don’t want
happy wishes just for being a woman: they want ...an overhaul of the system that degrades, impoverishes and abuses them."

Cheryl, you are a beacon to the young/old, male/female, needy and affluent.

V.S. Yonke
U write what U like

18 August 2010

woman to woman

Saturday morning I went shopping with my daughter and I actually had fun considering that I don't enjoy shopping -
I simply don't have the patience of trying on different outfits, receiving fake smiles from shop assistants
or being followed into every aisle by the security guard.

While I was waiting for Mbali to choose between which sweater she liked best there was a young woman who approached us and asked me
'What is it like being a mother?' she introduced herself as Ziyanda. I asked her if she was planning on having kids and realised that she was pregnant.
I told her I didn't have an answer to her question and and asked how she felt about her pregnancy.
We chatted for a bit until I picked up she was getting uncomfortable with some of the questions I was asking and as a result she avoided eye contact.
Ziyanda is a 22yr old varsity student.

While there's nothing unique about this, it brought back bitter-sweet memories for me as somebody who has been where she is.
As I looked at her and saw the fear in her eyes I remembered the fear I felt nearly 6 yrs ago when I was pregnant.
I was shit scared of what I had gotten myself into and what was still to come.
I'm not exaggerating when I say I felt like an ant all alone in the big wide world!
At the time, sleep was something foreign to me, my head was filled with a million and one questions
... How will I know what to do when the baby's born?
... What if I fail as a mother?
... Will I still be able to do all the things that my peers get up to?
... What if I don't bond with the baby? Etc etc. I was driving myself crazy to the point of suffering from pre-natal depression.
I have found that most women go through this but never dare talk about their feelings,
somehow we think appearing strong all of the time is the coolest thing to do even if it means dying a slow death inside. What a crap load of bullshit!

I gave Ziyanda my number but I don't think she'll call, I just hope she finds someone to talk to...

Zinzi Voyiya

Black Woman

by Ko-fi Anane-Kyeremeh

You shine like a diamond in the sun.
Your smile like a meandering stream carrying a message.
Your rotund hips and bottom, like plumpy yams
Glazed and blazing eyes, like the sun.
I wonder on those marble teeth,
Or those twists of woven hair.

Your beauty tells a tale of long ago,
When our creator and maker
Decided to craft you.
Black Woman.

A jewel in the palace,
A pearl in the ocean,
A medal of beauty hangs around your neck.

Your skin; black and glassy,
Smoother than a tiger’s fur.
You are a black woman.

I’ve seen men wrestle and fight with their life,
Counting themselves worthy of you.
It makes me laugh out loud.
What a waste of strength.

If this be not true,
I’ll be darned,
But she glorifies beauty
She graces affection and sanity.
She cures with a simple smile

Black woman, what is your name?
From which village do you hail?
What is the name of the woman
In whose womb you were fashioned
Or the man, who initiated your design?
Tell me where your heart is hidden, black woman.
Who are those who crave for you?

Joyous, gallant, beautiful, amazing.
Black Woman!

09 August 2010

She is by Mpho Matsitle

Mpho Matsitle
She is…
Alluring in her eyes
Confident in her stride
Captivating in her thoughts
Right in her wrongs

A beaut of note
Too kind to loathe
A forgiving lady
Somehow a lil crazy

She is…
Too sweet for words
Out of this world
An envy of lords
Water to the desert
Part of no regrets
Not one to forget

A fountain of love
Gift from above
Peaceful as doves
Not one to be mean
In goodness has no twin
A true Queen

She is…
Always a highlight
Brings about no fright
Committed in her plight
A champion in her fight
Fair in judgement
A star in entertainment
Not too shy to lament
Not too proud to repent

Pretty immaculate
Oh so great
Never too late
In finding a mate
The one and only
She loves entirely
Gives of herself completely
And most importantly

She is…
In love with me

Mpho Matsitle

04 August 2010

... on women... to women... for women...

I know a lot of women who continue to inspire the nation and many households in Azania, however, I feel I have to be bold enough to admit;
even though sistahs have shown to possess the skill and knack to accumulate 'cheese' and other artifacts of modern civilization,
women (as a collective), have a long way to walk before finally overcoming the pervese masculine domination meted against them by ignorant niggaz like me.

In virtually all animate creatures, the survival of the family genes is the responsibility of their female kind.
Females, whether they be lions, ants, flies, african wild dogs, elephants and other creatures I've been lucky enough to observe or read on, are more successful and industrious food-gatherers than their male counterparts.
In fact, by instinct, when we seek nourishment we turn to a 'mother-figure'.

The animal and insect species, sans the lion, are led by a strong alpha-female, but when you look at human beings; that phenomenon is almost constrasted.
In modern and previous civilizations alike, women have been denied any place of prominence in society.
Popular cultures and religions are based on gender discrimination whereby a woman's role is to serve a nigga's interests; however pervese those might be.

Even though common sense may suggest that Jah is a formless, omnipresent and therefore omnipotent nameless being(cannot be contain'd in a single definitive word), people are encouraged to imagine a blue-eyed bearded man to whom to direct their prayers.

With all that said, the road to real emancipation might be longer for sistahs, but we'll walk with them.

Kaiza Gongxeka

31 July 2010

Dear writer, rejection letter!

Below are 2 reject letters, one is from an online magazine, another from a well known local publisher.

Reject letter 1

Dear Writer,

Please check our website for what we are interested in.

This is a negative reject letter that doesnt offer much assistance where the writer must improve on and no further avenues to correct what is "incorrect"

Reject letter 2

Dear Writer

Thank you for contacting ABC.

Unfortunately ABC cannot offer to assess and publish your poetry.
ABC is a small company that receives several poetry manuscripts a
month and only publishes two or three collections a year. As a result,
we have decided to no longer accept unsolicited manuscripts.
Instead, we will keep an eye on local literary journals and magazines, and approach
poets ourselves from there.

I'm attaching a list of these magazines which you could approach with
regards to getting some of your work published, as well as a FAQs
document containing information about the types of books ABC publishes
and guidelines on our submissions procedure.
I hope that you find this information helpful.

Wishing you everything of the best with your writing!

>> This is a positive reject letter from a local publisher of new authors who have become household names.
Do not take the rejection as the end, rather an opportunity to build on by improving your craft and stepping up the game.
Do not give up!

We, at U write what U like, would like to open the field to budding poets, a platform to showcase their talents in an effort to get quality work published.
We are inviting poets as well as publishers to drink from the well of poetic talent and to contribute to a literate South Africa!

Keep writing!

28 July 2010

Fat Lady Next Door

Just a short walk from my door
Resides a white fat lady.
Her husband is black, like me
But I have a story to tell.

Just like her. Her cubs are chubby.
Overweight with complacency
And utterly boastful.
She claims her children
To be of the best breed ever.
I laugh, and tears come out

Many years before my birth,
The children of the fat lady came to our house.
The looted it out,
Ransacked it, stole from us.
Yes, the fat lady’s children did that.

My mother was left sore.
Her seed was taken from her.
She was left with almost nothing,
But she survived.

The fat lady next door,
Her story so easy to tell.
I even marvel at her offspring.
She’s made fat her tummy,
From the sweat of my mother’s children.
She shouts orders, makes rules.
She plans even for my household.
And what’s worse,
She dumps her junk
At my backyard.

She has married a man of my color.
She is now growing ever resilient,
And she just won’t shut up.

Fat lady next door.
I know all that you’ve done.
I shall not share in your plunder,
I will not wear your silk, drink your milk
Or even learn your ways.
I will sulk in the bush still,
Just like how we were,
When you first came to our house.

Kofi Anane Kyeremeh

16 July 2010

Dear Bra Steve by Neo Thipe

Bra Steve

I got a chance to meet your memories; they informend:
you died in the line of duty, securing my freedom,
so i found it fair to forward you this progress report.
S.A democracy in it's teens, already chasing after CAPITALIST suger dads:
the rich are getting richer!
But porverty continues its reign of terror;
racism is as fit as ever.
I'm telling you;
peeling off a few leaves doesn't change the tree.
But our television changed; it changed our morals;
terminal illnesses;
sex sells,
H I Virus.
You see, the truth is as beautiful as a rose and just as thorny,
so they dangle the thorny bit, inflicting fear in our heart;
forcing us to choose fantasy, but fantasy is vanity;
and a lifetime of vanity is insanity.
And if truth shall set me free, then what is this freedom we claim.....
because frankly,
I'm not allowed to Write What I Like,
my history is out of fashion.
Xenophobia is just another word for black unconsciousness.
Unconscious poets take front row in defence of sodomy;
our ecconomy is in the hands of our oppressors;
we are still a colony.
They teach us the traditions of minority rule:
they say "focus on the positive"
what they mean is "ignore the poor, let them cremate in their shacks"
babies aborting their babies.

This is just a brief description of how our democracy is lived.

I hope to hear from you soon, sure bra Steve.


09 July 2010

Cumming by Mpho Matsitle

We must really enjoy it
Being fucked that is
I mean
It’s been happening ever since
But I gotta say
It became hardcore when the whitey got here
That was about four centuries ago
The whiteman has been at it
Ever since we bent over to pick up his Bible
Fucking away
And he hasn’t let go
He doesn’t wanna let go
He won’t let go
He will never let go
I mean why should he?
He is enjoying it
But do we enjoy it?
Being fucked over?
Do we?

Methinks we’ve gotten used to it
So much that we now like it
We even demand it
Beg for it
We have been institutionalised

At first we thought he was joking
“Hai maan uyenzani...eish, makgoa mare...lol”
Then we thought it aint funny no more
“What the fuck man?”
Then we fought it
“Shoot them to kill! Who!? The fuckers!”
Then we thought maybe it was our fault
“Senzeni na?”
Then we got used to it
“Hai! Re tla reng...go tla siama...Modimo o teng”

Then we started enjoying it
We demanded it
To get into positions of power
Or rather positions of less powerlessness
We flash our bare ass cheeks at conferences
We go around their meeting places
Begging for some more fucking
To their UN, IMF, World Bank, G8, FIFA
And we beg
“Oh no sir, forget Egypt”
“Tunisia has nothing on me”
“Come over, I’ll throw you a big party”
“If you would please just gimme summa that fucking”

Yes good people
We enjoy being fucked
And they must’ve really gotten good at it
If the multiple orgasms we’ve been having recently
Are anything to go by
Yes it’s true
We cum while being raped

Did we not cum in 90?
When the messiah walked amongst us
Our demigod
The saint who could do no wrong
Didn’t we?
And was it not at that time that De Beers
The fucker of all fuckers
Made sure most of its money doesn’t pass through SA
So that we wouldn’t get our dirty black paws on it?
Were we not still being fucked then?

Did we not cum in 94?
When we achieved universal suffrage
Which only translated
As has always been the case
Universal black suffer-age
Universal white privilege
Were we not still being fucked then?

Did we not cum in 95?
When our baases klapped their friends from oorkant
And had a huge party
Which we only attended as servants
Did they not
The very next day
Kick our lazy kaffir asses back into work
To clean after them
And carry their friends’ luggage for a few shillings?
Were we not still being fucked then?

Did we not cum in 96?
After we had enjoyed ourselves on the green grass
While they were busy constitutionalising our exploitation
Giving our oppressors eternal rights over stolen property
When it became unconstitutional
For us to have our own exclusive organisations
To discuss only among ourselves our rape ordeal
When we were told to concede that our oppressors
“Whatever their own actions, they remain still,”
A part of us
Were we not still being fucked then?

One wonders what shit they will come up with now
While we’re busy giving head to their plastic horns

Did we not mourn in 2000?
When the whiteman refused to hold his orgy in our backyard
Did we not see the sport presenter shed a tear on TV?

And in 2004?
Did we not have a mild orgasm
When we were told to make preparations for the orgy?

And the latest was in 2009
When on the seat of less powerlessness
Sat our resident Casanova
Man of the people
Father of the nation
There was pandemonium on the streets
Screaming and shouting
And yet the list of billionaires grew
And more jobs were shed
Are we not still being fucked?

And now?
Now we are building up
Counting down
To what we hope will be the most powerful orgasm ever
One that will shake the world
And we tell the hawkers to stay one kilometre away from the stadium
“Who cares if you want your child to go to school?”
We practically tell them
“Why the fuck would I want him to go to school”
“Free education my ass, we’re building stadiums”
“Who is going to fill my tank and wash my dishes?”
“Who is going to do my garden and wash my car?”
“With all them educated black bastards running around”
“Pussy is going to get mighty expensive”
“With all them educated black bitches running around”
Are we not still going to be fucked?

It will never stop
Because we bring it on ourselves
We are assisting our enemies in raping us
We are fucking ourselves over
Yes we are
We are perpetuating it
Was it not us
Throughout the 400 years
Who birthed askaris
Compradors and colonialists
Who will hold down their own people
Their own mothers
While they are being raped?
And even beg for a piece of the action?
It was not the whiteman who birthed them
It is us
And is it not us who give them the whiteman's education?
That teaches them how to exploit their own
Is it not us who make them our leaders?
Who give them power over our lives?
Is it not?
Of course it is!

So how dare we hate the whiteman for raping us?
When we’re always bending over frontwards for him
Exposing ourselves to him
Making it so easy for him
So attractive for him
To just fuck us over anytime anywhere
How dare we tell him not to?
No wonder he hates us so
We want him not to enjoy what is freely available

So until you are ready to take that panga
That panga you chop heads of your brothers with
That Okapi you rape your sisters with
That machete you committed genocide with in Rwanda
Unless you are prepared to use it to chop off his dick
Him and his black lieutenants
Until you are ready to do that
Shut the fuck up nigga and take your fucking like a man

03 July 2010

am i just another

am I
am I just another
with his fist in the air
seeking what might actually not really be there
where do we go from here
knowledge of self – is it something we can bear
I am African
yes I can
but can we
truly embrace change necessary for our advancement

we looking to an american
to solve problems african
he’s their man
who is our champion

are you talk and no walk
do you talk then walk
or jus full of talk
like so many

they say it begins with you

are you
are you just another
with fist in the air
living in fear
I’ll tell you where to go form, there

A-Fi-Kan (e)

Realise you not just another
you lion
bold, without fear
raw power
roar reverbating through the land
wise up – recognize you true potentia
potent! cannot measure ya
infinite! your possibilities

limited by one and only one


29 June 2010

Lest we forget by VS Yonke

Lest we forget
and our ideals desert
as dried bones in a desert

the sacrifice made
the price paid

into earth their blood seeped
up to the sky bodies heaped

the youth of seventy six
who laid freedom's bricks

Biko, Hani, Tambo
Nalucanda uhambo (you set out the journey)
Nalufeza ugqatso (you completed the race)

Sayifumana inkululeko ngegama (we received freedom in name only)
Iziqhamo zayo anazingcamla (its fruits you never tasted)
Noko zona sezibukrakra (though they have become sour)
Ulutsha lusifa yingculaza (the youth dying of aids)

Ngamaxa ndizive ndizibuza (at times I ask myself)
Yiyo lenkululeko na (is this the freedom)
Ubomi benu nazincama (you sacrificed your lives)
Vukani sizwe esimnyama (rise up black nation)

Eternally you slept
Silently we wept
Let us not forget

Let the words of the poet
Be the truth serum to inject
Consciousness so we remain alert
To unchain our mental shackles yet
So we may not forget
And not regret, lest we forget

© Vuyokazi Yonke


We have identified the need for uplifting of our community through the arts, including written and spoken word, visual art and craft.
Out of this need was the birth of Infinite Fire Media.
We seek to source creative talent within the youth, and for them to develop that skill within themselves, their peers and communities.
Infinite Fire Media would collect all the written work and visual art into an anthology of different works by different artists.
The Writers series will be based on various themes. The theme for June, as its South African Youth Month, will be on pieces on concerning the youth.

Everyone has a story. Whats yours?

Please submit to infinitefiremedia@gmail.com

.........."let it flow".........

The Hall of Fame