Love Letter #6

Dear Mayor Ma’am, I hope this letter finds you well. My name is Mpho Matsitle, a resident – tenant – at Antoinette building on Cromwell Street. This letter is co-signed by Morena Moabi, also a tenant at Mimosa Court on Short Street. We – him and I – consider ourselves neighbours, amongst other things. And …

Hagara

“HAGARA! HAGARA!” My Zdena disturbed my peace this morning. For no reason at all but to do just that. She achieved as much too – not out of any skill of her own (in reality she doesn’t have much in her arsenal for such a feat); but because of her structural positionality. Which of course I built …

#ArtLivesHere

It all starts with an inquisitive child, eyes wide open, head tilted forward, right on the edge of the frame. The problem with children – or at least mine own biggest problem with them – is that they always ask the difficult questions. It is no surprise that in some of our cultures children are …

Black Sunday

There are people in balaclavas. Men in balaclavas. They’re all over the place. Restless. Maybe they can’t breathe? We all can’t breathe – or so Fanon said. And Fanon has all the answers. But we are here. I think we are beautiful. I believe we are. For sure Jess is beautiful. She sings like an …

Ode for Oddz, Ballad for Boho

The thespians. The incorrigible critics. And cretins too. Poets, posers and provocateurs. Painters of words and writers of pictures. The emo, the ego, the cold, the misconstrued, recluse, melodramatic, the comedic. Troubadours, dancers, griots, minstrels and raconteurs. Fashionistas. Modern and pre-modern who dare don their grandma’s bloomers. Colour blockers and Goths. And the two tone …