The Imagined World of People who Condemn Radical Protest

by Mia Arderne     On Shackville and Rhodes Must Fall Rhodes Must Fall is a student and worker led movement protesting for the decolonization of the University of Cape Town. The movement achieved the removal a prominent statue of imperialist…

#Phola; Curated by Sihle Ntuli

In the second project for our special End of Year music feature(s), Sihle Ntuli curates a playlist which is the product of a collaboration between Bakwa and Ja magazine. The playlist explores the African youth in the global context as…

[Book Review] Reclaiming the Female Body in Stacy Hardy’s Fiction

Dzekashu MacViban Stacy Hardy’s fiction navigates a written landscape between sexual politics and ontology, as the stories in Because the Night challenge the fetishization and objectification of the female body.   Stacy Hardy (photo credit Niklas Zimmer) Because the Night…

[Poetry] Shakespeare by Sihle Ntuli

Sorry William, I had to stab you with a spear and have you shake Frothing out the mouth Clear saliva blocks unclear syllables spilling out As you try to say “thou art no air” and your eyes roll back While…

Undermining African Intellectual and Artistic Rights: Shakira, Zangalewa & the 2010 World Cup Anthem.

Dibussi dissects the cavalier attitude towards African intellectual property and indigenous natural resources plagiarized and/or exploited with little or no compensation, as well as the ramifications thereof.

Q & A with Ntone Edjabe on Chimurenga, Fela, and Politics

  “By developing editorial projects together and assisting each other in areas such as distribution, we quietly mainstream our own aesthetics and reduce our dependency on the global publishing system” Ntone Edjabe   Interviewed by Dzekashu MacViban     Ntone…

Excerpt from Bom Boy by Yewande Omotoso

  The walk from the Western Medical Fund office to Leke’s home was thirty minutes but it took him fifty on a Friday because he made a stop. Leke watched the pavement as he walked, and his long legs swung…

Four Poems by Fiona Khan

Africa Kills Her Son I am alive, Africa! I speak with a poet’s pen then write with a weapon that cleanses the hearts of despots…. Ah, Africa! My Africa! Greeting heroes and welcoming them to her bosom. Beating drums reverberating…

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