Author name: Juliet Mashiri

“I know you, I know you, I do. Don’t tell me, I’ve seen you before I just can’t place you.” The familiar stranger in grubby blue overalls stared back slightly perplexed with earthy copper boron eyes and a flicker or bemusement as pointed back at me, while I tried to fuse my memories together. “Don’t tell me, […]

It was a beautiful Friday summer morning. I woke up bright and early as per my routine. I had a warm glass of water, cereal and an apple for breakfast. I took my usual relaxing 25 minute shower, wore my favourite navy blue pants suit and was ready for work. I walked out of my

Today as I prepared for my speech I felt just a bit more nervous than I did the day I boarded a flight for the first and only time. I could still remember vividly all the NatGeo “Air Crash investigation” episodes replaying in my mind as I contemplated an excuse to decline the most important opportunity of my life. The flight induced nausea, the images of perpetual flames

The stranger I met on that fateful day wasn’t so much strange as he was a mystery. He was someone I should know as well as I know anything in this universe but I soon realized I didn’t know the stranger as well as I thought. When someone is tangled in the blanket of sleep, everything seems

We where enjoying our drive to the market on our dusty half tarred road. In mum’s battered  old Volkswagen truck to deliver our fresh harvest of yams and peas when it all started. Mum’s little snack attack, oh no l screamed, Mum don’t snack up yet, we have no place to bin your  LITTER .

I was… Left in a village of primitive socialisation misconstrued for civilisation. It was savagery. Survival at the expense of freedom couldn’t be any better. Scrapes of hopes from thin-bartered-walls of courage would serve to be a constant reminder of my fate, my struggles…my demise. One long bloody struggle against my erroneous yet barbaric thought-pattern.

Me: Her fragrance, it reminds me of the scent left in the airfrom wet sand after it rains. Her eyebrows look like they were worked on recently, and her lashes are immaculate. She must be a woman who pays attention to detail, especially when it comes to her appearance. A woman in a relationship would be unlikely

A quick glance at my watch told me I was late. Packing was proving to be more tedious than I had anticipated. It was the middle of summer and it was swelteringly hot. My top was clinging to my body from all the sweat despite having just showered. A loud banging on my door and a shout from the other side interrupted me. “WHAT?!” I shouted back.

I blamed him for his own death. I maybe even made a little squeal of joy when the neighbours arrived at the homestead to pay their respects. It was his careless decisions that left mhamha and I in enough debt to make us work as labourers on a farm or prostitutes in the city streets

God punish all the imperfect people!  Welcome to HEAVEN and HELL. For the previous hundreds of nights and days of my life, ghosts and goblins had been pinning me to my already death stinking sick bed. Suffocating my already weak breath until I drain the last bit of my strength to clinch my fists and