Canon
we are diáspora but we are not dissipated / one drop unites us / guantanamera, güajira guantanamera…
The Van
The last he heard, the children were not in England, and he doesn’t know where they are. It’s been eighteen months since he has seen them. The last message he received from their mother was, “Stay away,” and then he was blocked.
Caine Prize Nomination
Announcing the Decolonial Passage Caine Prize for African Writing nominee for 2026!
A Different Kind of Metamorphosis
For years black women tongue was stolen / and forced into an iron bit while preparing / roasted meat, biscuits, and pudding, leaving / them no choice but to eat with their eyes
My Land
My land / My hope / The embodiment and foundation of my future / The integral and most natural wealth of my past / The only thing left of the confident desire I had to nurture / The upholding of relations so vast
Translations from the Black
Blackness teaches me song/I dance it/Blackness teaches me love/I birth it/Blackness teaches me silence/I hear it
At the Border the World Ends
Jackboots and helmets demarcate us and freedom. / Plus in binoculars, multiply with machine guns, divide by / bows and arrows and the ever ubiquitous police dogs / who growl yellow teeth, salivate for captured flesh and the / sum equals a walled city, a concentration camp.
Chicano Ghosts
She tips her head back, / And soaks up the sun. / Bleached bone upon dust, / upon dust.
Ilé Africa
They crawled into the limbo / of space and arrived at our shores, / deadened the strings of the djembe, / that whispers to us in the dialect in / which we use to cast cowries and / pour libations upon our hallowed path. / They broke the nose of our ancestral faces.
simply black
the earth is an eyeball of monochromes. cataracts of inhumanity blind the black man from his kindred, and when the white cotton is separated from the darker ones in the laundry, the blacks turn a blind eye to what belongs to their source and agitate for a place in a whitewash.
Decolonial Passage 