daarna liepen we over een rotsig pad tot bij een hek dat de gids voor ons opende en weer […]
Our Stories
738 posts
A blog by and about our writers
As ‘passenger seat driver’, het ek die beste uitsig van almal wanneer ons die pad vat. Deur my klein sy-venster […]
het ging, dachten wij, over vliegende vissen, forellen maakten een koprol en je ving ze gelijk in de lucht, […]
Soos met jou neighbour, Courtney, Het ons jou ook versaak. In helder dag het hy jou gevat, Hoekom het ons […]
Girl: I keep staring at the stars hoping to find myself in them…but the more I stare, the more feel […]
Watching television. It’s the only thing helping them to carry on now. Early morning, the man washes, and wears his […]
Ek wil jou soe graāg iets gie Nette ietsie Saāmme jou los Iets wat nooit ka vaporize Of nog ērgerre […]
Brein uittie skedel, derms innie hand, longe hap na lug, baby hang tussen boude, gat deurie been, bloed sypel na […]
Yoliswa’s lifeless body lay sprawled on the kitchen floor. With his bloody hands on his head, Thembani paced back and […]
Jan strek hom uit terwyl hy sy hande voor sy oë hou om die son te blokkeer. Ek smaak nie […]
A Ma’am Mzimba Case Chapter One “The Interruption” She strutted into the church, quite a sight to behold. She wore […]
Vanaf mijn boombos kan ik over continenten naar de bosberg reiken. Daar in het voetspoor van gazellen en de civitkat […]
Why do I, at times feel that my soul belongs someplace else Why do I feel the burdens are too […]
Jaylin knip-knip haar oë om van die wasigheid ontslae te raak. Die spierwit lig verblind haar.
Die koel lug omvou my soos ’n kombers.
Verlangs hoor ek die insekte krie-krie.
The last painting I remember painting was a parrot
The brother and sister were trapped in the burning vehicle. Tracy was sitting on top of her brother, trying to stop the flames from burning him. Her doll, held up to her tiny 7 year old face, as an attempt to shield herself.
Make room
Give space
Give love
In retrospect I can only lovingly think back to the Paulet Huis like a grandmother happily welcoming us into her midst
She should probably go back to the house. It was clear that there was no anniversary lunch or dinner happening.
A poem from you to You.
Dis die dag toe jy verdwyn / op my mind sal jy bly
Ek het daar en dan ’n epiphany! Hoeveel horisonne kan ons oorbrug deur te lees.
My grandmother pulled me out of bed. My eyes were still half shut as I sleepily scrambled on the floor in search of my slippers.