I am not your voice

I am your emotions

Feel me, feed me

I’m like a cancer, I’ll consume

It’s my art

I’ll consume you

It’s the vibrations

I’ll consume you

Its the goosebumps I give you

When I liberate you

Because you simpleton need crutches

To tumble and fall to realise you’re beyond approval

I’ll be your clown, your art

Deep down I consume you

Be blessed with the courage

To face you, to be consumed by the art in you

Don’t be me, be the you in me

Gather up and reflect the energies

Clear skies, clean air

Fundamentals that consume the universe that you are

I’ll consume you till we’re big enough to fight the bad vibrations


I can’t heal you


You’re bleeding deep and slow

Only visible when that liquor hits your lips

Those are wounds my soul can’t reach

So I’ll sit next to you and share the silence

I’m planting little seeds of love just so the flowers bloom for you some day one day some where

And then the sun will shine once again.

Mango life


IMG_20180114_180142Home sweet home

Completion, fulfillment! Never been more further away

I came to bury my old skin

Been shedding and emancipated quite a bit since you last shunned me

If it is any consolation I still cry alone

I just get up faster and stronger

Tales of a loner who isn’t lonely

Flew to confirm what I already knew

That home clips my wings

But I start licking my wounds on my road trip to more misadventures

I love you, for all the pain you remind of

I still love you…soaked in scents that awake the burried

I flip through old photographs

My heart just screams out to the past

“Listen, take more pictures, smile more, say more

That’s all you will leave me with, yes you leave,

Unintended, but that doesn’t comfort my fatherless childhood!”

I haven’t forgotten about you

It’s just you are who I was, not who I will be

I will come back when the storm of life settles

Just enough for our souls to see each other again.




That sip before inhaling


I’m leaving whilst you burning the midnight oil

The only time I know you forget everything else except that flicker

I’m not snicking out either

I’d rather just laze around in the aftermath

And get fat with my sister

Because somethings you said left an after taste

You know belittling my struggles

What do you know about not knowing

If anyone disagrees they are not worth your attention thereafter

So I get ready for the encore chorus

Clap with me if you feel it in your existence

Repeat after me you unconventional tea lovers

“We won’t let you take away the scars

They define me

They remind me 

They mirror our daily affirmations

Our religion,our blend

So no, we won’t let you take away these scars

My struggle, my pain, my victory

You don’t get to take away my victories”

And I put down my remote-mic 

And continue my packing

My departure is part of my tying loose ends.

The adventures with Gogo Dihwa under the tree of nostalgia


One day when it’s all gone to waste;

My courage,my free spirit,my strong will

I will fly home with eagerness to Gogo’s bosoms

So one day we can wake up just when the sun makes us good to sleep again

That’s when it still feels like it’s regenerating our skin and not looking to bestow a bout of cancer

Whilst eating mealie meal porridge

Under the tree with dried out leaves

I’ll be inquisitive like my six year old self

She always loved how I would patiently listen as she unpacked preciously tugged away memories of the adventures of raising Amai

She loved talking about all of her children

I don’t know about now though

They’re all dead and we are both weary beings

I no longer worship Amai and she doesn’t hear me so well anymore

It is increasingly more difficult to unpack

They aren’t just memories

It’s the only place my uncles and aunts are still alive

In the purest form

Her angel ghosts

Haunting but not in an overbearing way

But assurance that a reunion is a sure thing coming

I think when I finally get to embrace Gogo Dihwa

And sit under the dried out tree of nostalgia

I’ll ask more about her adventures to becoming my beloved grandmother

Who knows, maybe her adventures

Can unlock my misadventures, the missing element

My campus has no north

I find comfort in the idea that feeling like my six year old self

Might rid me of adulting

For a precious few hours.

That woman


We walked together as best as different species could

I envied the occasional monkey swinging by and never alone

We were raised to compete not support

Such is the silent curse that whispers most females into formation

With that I forgive every sexist female I’m yet to encounter

I am​ willing to give you a second chance

Love demands more than hatred

And I cannot shy away from a challenge

So with every waking moment I challenge myself to be inspired and not jealous

To judge less and ask more

To listen more and speak honestly

It’s more enticing to encourage than break down

Stripped off a countless times I go into the waters to cleanse not just myself but our mindset

Be that woman who just wants to bring out the best in people

Active Poetry



“Active Poetry”is what I call activism through poetry. It is when you go beyond performing poetry at a poetry night with a cosy and intimate audience, it’s taking to the streets and letting it roar as loud as possible. I have only been to two of them but I assure you there are many more to come. The last we had here in Windhoek was to commemorate 16 days of activism against Gender Based Violence, which is a real problem in this country to say the least. It was organised by Township productions in collaboration with Grassroot Slam poetry, two active organisations in their own right. I just happen to love poetry and a budding activist.


After all protocol was observed, we took chalk and “chalked ” out our thoughts on Gender Based Violence on the pavement on the space allowed. We encouraged members of the public to be involved, grab a chalk or ask questions, young and old were all invited and I am sure that there is one more person who knows a bit more about Gender Based Violence after our little poetry day out. Though I am not as active on my beloved blog as I would like to, the poetry never stops flowing, neither does the activist in me die. Rebel movement over and out.


Being Aunt Fay



Pure innocence bright

Blinding my eyes

You have this thing of brightening up cloudless days

Forgive me child for I have sinned

Before I met you, I played out a thousand different worst case scenarios

In all of them we sacrifice everything for your well being

This must be love

Hardest hello with all my flaws

And you, little bundle of pure joy


Difficult greetings because I am unworthy

Of such powerful embraces

Kneeling before you offering everything I am and more

Saddest goodbye every time

Because just for a while you engulf me in a world I miss

Traces of my childhood

With you in sight you make it okay to be

No questions, no need for justifications

Inhale, exhale, explore

Curiosity, pure curiosity

I need a lifetime to trust as much as you trust our embraces

You unite us

Gogo raised diverse kids

But we all melt for you

Thank you for your mere existence, little carrot

You empower us by enabling us

Allowing us to vaguely bask in your aura

Purity of emotion, of life

Bloom little flower on this canvas we will hold steadfast for you.




I am a struggle child

Born behind invisible bars

Yet their putrid smell nauseates me

That which I can only see

Socialised to second guess my every second breathe

Worthy or not,deserving or not

I am that which was forced out

To run with the wind is to survive

To truly live is to go against the tide

So says the mind of mephitic surroundings

I am a struggle child

With the worst kind of enemy

False freedom, dangling freedom

Close enough for me to see

Feeding my hope and faith

Yet when I run for it, that which is mine

I find I outran my monkey chord

So I am choked back to submitting

The torture resumes, this time freedom a bit closer

I am a struggle child

Stuck in a cycle with blind counterparts

For I had to scrap my third eye open

To veraciously see the truth

In the depths of my struggle

I envy the blindfolds I once had

For they kept me ignorantly consuming their version of events

Safe and sound cuddled in ignorance

I am socialised to be educated

But I would rather be well acquainted with wisdom

Listen brother,start tearing off the blindfolds

The truth shall set you sincerely free.

Losing my religion


1450454041725I am all the green I should focus on

Though I find myself commuting amongst the masses

My destination should be my sole mission

Learning of all the places you have been has only grounded my aspirations

So I no longer will be your disciple

Pain woke me up last night, with a buzzing bustling people I could not see

Only prayer brought me relief

But with guilt darkening my thoughts, as it dawned on me that it’s been a while

Since I put it all on Him

Best part is I have lost it all just so I can paint a completely new reality

I just want change, it gives me the comfort of growth

So let me be? Feels like this time is the only time I get away with it

I am skating into the new year, full gear on

Paranoid about losing my religion

Because in 2016 I want to live for my soul

Because that is the part of me that can surpass these bones to be dust

That is the only way to live forever