by WONGANI MWASINGA Third prize-winning short story, 2020 Makewana’s Daughters Competition The first time I was called ugly for being dark skinned was in 1985. I was only sixteen years old at the time and repeating Form...
Read Moreby Agnes Munthali First prize winning short story in the 2020 Makewana’s Daughters competition If I could fly back in time and redo all the things I had done, I...
Read MoreBy Tikondwe Chimkowola My baby only knew two colors: White and Green. The white from our uniforms and the green of the prison warders. He always cried when someone else in a different colour came around the cells. I chuckle at...
Read MoreShe heard her mother calling from a distance. It couldn’t have been morning already. She had only slept for a few minutes, or so it seemed. She turned on her mat and slept again. Her mother’s voice soared. “Yewo! Yewo! Wake up!!...
Read MoreIt all started with my parents. It is true and I blame them. It is their entire fault. They had decided to have a baby but ended up with two baby girls. Twins. Yane and Zane. I was given the name Yane while my little twin...
Read MoreI 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 MoreThird prize winner, 2019 Makewana Short-story competition Dear Madam, I don’t know if you remember me. I was in your Geography class. I first had a chat with you when that NGO came and was looking for needy girls to pay for...
Read MoreSecond prize, 2019 Makewana Short story Competition My ride was longer than expected. I was very excited and very nervous the entire time. Finally, the bus reached Ntcheu bus depot; my pit stop before it proceeded to Blantyre....
Read MoreFirst prize winner: Makewana short story competition (2019) Michael felt uneasy that afternoon. He felt tired and in a hurry all at once. He was sitting on the floor of his empty...
Read MoreI stand by the road passing by the mystical mwala wa mthunzi. The wonderful green carpet of tea trees blends in nicely with the blue canopy of the sky, the green landscape and the tiny huts popping out the green trees...
Read MoreHe used to be her man. She dusts her house again. It doesn’t really need dusting, not after the thorough cleaning she has given it, but you never know. There might be dust lurking somewhere. He used to carry her with such ease,...
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