Asante Lucy Mtenje is a Malawian academic, creative writer, and artist. She holds a PhD in English Studies from Stellenbosch University. She currently teaches...
Author - Wesley Macheso
Wesley Macheso, PhD, is a Malawian writer. He teaches literature at the University of Malawi to survive and he writes to live. His short story “This Land is Mine” is published in Water: new short story fiction from Africa (2016) by Short Story Day Africa. He won the 2015 Peer Gynt Literary Award in Malawi for his children’s book Akuzike and the Gods (2017). Some of his poems are anthologised in Wreaths for a Wayfarer (2020). His work can be read online on African Writer, Brittle Paper, Storymoja, The Kalahari Review, and Agbowo magazines. He edits for www.africanwriter.com and www.africainwords.com Twitter handle: @Wesleymax89
Son, this city has a mouth and it has teeth. It munches on people and chews them… The bar was not full, but it was loud enough to make anyone think we were...
Shadreck Chikoti is passionate about the development of writing in Malawi and across the African continent at large. In 2013, he started the Story Club, a...
(An excerpt from a manuscript titled Things we lost in the Water) That night, I jerked from my sleep like a possessed animal or a patient in delirium. When I...
It was Papa Jake who first told me that God was dead. He was a man of ideas but Mama told me that he did not read as much as he claimed to know. “Don’t listen...
When the child started misbehaving, Jessica knew that something had gotten into him. She had always seen him as an empty vessel – a soul with no purpose...
When her husband died, Rachel did not cry. What she felt on the day they buried him was nothing compared to what people claim to feel during funerals. There...
I am my mother’s fourth daughter, the one who did not give her any trouble coming out of her womb. She says I slid out hastily and softly like I had an urgent...
Miko Mende was used to seeing people succumb to the disease. By now he had gathered enough courage to stand the gaunt faces that were nothing but skin and...
Sometimes we walk Sometimes we fly Sometimes we swim Sometimes we crawl Never do we sleep Never do we dream Never do we rest Because we are The Sleepless That...
My attitude towards the world changed the day I realised that my father was a Catholic priest. He was a man of the collar, fully ordained under all the...
The atmosphere in Kampala, the Silicon Valley of Africa, in the summer of 2515 was sticky. The sun hung bored above gathering clouds, emitting faint and...