The Funeral

Tin roofs claw the rain’s throat and choke out a scream

Smiles plaster the faces of everyone here because they are precisely where they want to be, doing precisely what they want to be doing.

For me, music is a form of belonging.

For nearly a century, Sekese’s resonant stories were only accessible to Sesotho-language readers.

It goes without saying that to be a woman marginalised by history is to have been a fearless revolutionary...

The money grows teeth in my pocket, gnashing at the seams— a rand with eyes...

Mistresses are like children: if they want candy to keep them from whining, you do as needed.

'Ke tla shoa moo u shoang, ke epeloe teng. Jehova a nketse ka hore le ka hore ha nka khaohana le uena ha e se ka lefu…'