Tits
The young ones, new at the gameYank upon me, their inexperience lending itselfto tight, rough grips that leave my smooth skin raw.I let them, without saying anything.This is what it is to be handled by most men -Uncaring,...
Read MorePosted by Makewana | Feb 17, 2020 | Short story |
I was seven when she was born. The day her mum brought her from the hospital my mum became so harsh, filled with pain and sorrow. Her forehead was always wrinkled like she had aged to death. I could smell anger and distress in...
Read MorePosted by Makewana | Jan 31, 2020 | Comic strips |
by Chims&Tims
Read MoreSendo takes us through some of the challenges of getting transport in Malawi, and offers suggestions I watched my seven-year-old nephew packing thirty match-sticks into the window of the tiny toy bus he had received from me as...
Read MoreThird Prize winner, 2019 Makewana Poetry Competition He said he wanted to paint me, That I needed another shade or two. He said I was far too ugly, And needed to be decorated in something new. But his paint brushes were...
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