Yet she could not remember her own name. She tried recalling all the female names she knew, certain she would recognise hers once she heard it. Fatuma. Naima. Khadija. Hawa. Malyun. Zainab. Ambiya. Batula. Rukiya. Ifrah. Quresha… None sounded like the name she would know to be hers.
a short story by Judyannet Muchiri.
The faces started to blur after a while. Why remember them? Each one was the…
At dawn, she drags herself from the bed, leaving the sheets ruffled into a heap…
I Other people die and stay dead. Others leave and never come back. But not…
The boat drifted slowly on the endless turquoise sheet of the sea and it was…
The phone rang. Mama picked. Three minutes after ‘hello’ she was still listening. “Thank you,”…
Where I come from, they don’t name a child until seven days and seven nights…
1. If you ask me how my navel ring ended up in the back seat…
by Jane Doe —– I am in Mama’s stomach but she doesn’t know this yet.…