List of Fully Funded MFA Programs

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The Night Called


The fever held fast to him

It hugged my little brother

Like a hemiparasite.

Mama wept over his heaving chest

Her only son, her treasure chest

The only voice we had in my father’s house.

She motioned me over,

‘My daughter run to Rashid the chemist.

Beg, don’t return without medicine’

The sun had gone to sleep

The moon reigned high above her time allotted kingdom.

Rashid smiled at me through rotted teeth

‘Come, a white man has the medicine

I have none here, come and beg him’

I followed timidly past questionable men

He walked into a seedy, run down motel,

The one where the ruined women stalked.

He held my arm, dragging me into its narrow hallway

He showed me the door, I shook my head; I would not go in.

I knew a ten year old had no business braving a motel room alone.

‘Rashid? Is that you? Do we have a new package?’

The door opened, Rashid shoved me in

I turned to run, run past Rashid

I felt the violent yank on my hair

Dragging hard till my head hit the floor with a resounding crack

My vision blurred

Clearing to a scaring scene

He pulled down his trousers

Rashid followed suit, along with three other men in the room

I screamed, but was cut off with a blow

Punches to my face, kicks to my ribs

I struggled with all my strength

I struggled till I could no longer move, think or breathe.

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She Lives

She’d forgotten how to smile

She looked into the mirror

Urging her muscles to remember the pattern

Her fingers edged her cheeks upward

Tracing the outline of what she sought.

She clawed into the depths of her soul

Into the darkness that plagued her

She searched for a marble

A sparkle of joy and light

They had put her down,

Stripped her of her purity

Chartered her like an object

Sold her to the highest bidder

Her identity lost in more ways than one.

She’d survived, she’d escaped.

She rebuilt,

A new identity, a brave voice

Fighting for the voiceless

Protecting the innocent

Past the hate, anger and nightmares

Building on precious lost years

Healing from within

Telling the world her story

Learning about love and happiness

Walking out in freedom

Embracing life as the sun caresses her face

Like a dead seed sprouting to life,

She is gradually moving past her horror

Learning to find her smile again

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End the Stigma

Men can do no wrong

It had to be you; the woman.

You enticed him somehow

With your oversized clothes

Naked unpainted face and untamed hair;

Your young innocent eyes,

Beguiled him like that of a practiced seductress

He took what was not his to take

His actions scarred you for life

He took your innocence

Making you a woman at the tender age of eleven

Yet society condemns the victim

Punishing till your blood is drained

Harlot they shout at you

They look at you like evil itself

No man will court you

Unsullied girls will not befriend you

So when your friend told you what her uncle did,

You answered in fear, knowing you had betrayed her to protect her future;

‘My dear friend, hold your peace and tell no one’

One martyr is enough.

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Ruined Goods

We were poor, we all were

Our one room was the kitchen, bedroom, living room and the bushes were our toilet.

‘Come, I will get you money to feed your family’ she said

‘Good business, you will travel and meet rich people, but don’t tell anyone’

She was my auntie’s friend

So we went, to a beautiful building the other side of town

She led me to a room, and asked me to stay comfortable

A few minutes rolled by, I heard a knock

I opened the door and two men sauntered in.

I smiled and curtseyed, they walked around me like hawks

I sat down silent, a well-trained, innocent girl

Awaiting my aunties’ entrance.

The fat one came to me and held my hand, playing with my hair with his other

I pulled back, avoiding his advances

‘We are going to play hard to get are we?’ he taunted

His friend shut the door whilst fatso dragged me to my feet

He shackled my hands using his hand, shutting my mouth with his left hand

I could feel my clothes being ripped off by his accomplice.

Feel his putrid breath on my face while I struggled.

He forced his way in from behind

While fatso balled my clothes and stuffed a wad in my mouth

The pain was excruciating, even as I felt blood coursing down my legs

He sat on the floor, pulling me down on his equipment.

After a while it was fatso’s turn, and then the other and then fatso.

More men came for their share of the opened goods

Daggered multiple times till I fainted from pain and exhaustion.

I awoke, believing it was a terrible nightmare

Not so, as I was now in a truck, with many girls about my age.

We were at the border,

Things were not right, questions were being asked

And like a miracle, we were ‘rescued’

It should have been a celebration but when I returned home,

My father wouldn’t look or speak to me,

My mother wouldn’t touch or talk to me

I was thrown out at the break of day

For no man would pay for my dowry

I was of no use to my family, and had but one place in society

I was now ruined goods.

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Sitting in my bedroom, listening to my flatmate boom music from downstairs, I like the melody, seeping into my being, relaxing my mind to the point I don’t want to do anything.

Facing my system, with an assignment awaiting completion glaring at me. The task seems daunting, so I log onto my wordpress account and pen out a blog.



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Women Change

CHANGE It was a day like any other; I woke up from the cries of the baby. She was turning four months old today, my little Anne. Whilst trying to rouse myself fully from sleep, my husband grunted to show … Continue reading

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Welcome to This is your first post. Edit or delete it and start blogging!

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