LIVIA'S BOOKLET

Guest Writer's Profile: Name: Rhoda Zulu PenName: Rhoda Zulu Genre: Short stories/Poems Location: Blantyre, Malawi THE BLIND FROG     “Antafada! Antafada! Antafada!’’ Animals of Umtomosya spread out palm leaves on all roads for this poor fellow that had usurped the Annual Festival Award. But swollen faces among the giants of the forest revealed this was a bitter pill to swallow. Giraffe, lion, hippo and elephant among other giants felt belittled; they whisked their tails and shook their heads in sheer disapproval. The small animals were all smiles jumping up and down clapping their hands. But what was the secret behind Antafada’s success? Umtomosya Kwenu was a civilized animal village that grew various crops and tamed other smaller species for consumption and security. Once a year the animals celebrated their crop harvest through festive competitions that were grouped into two distinct categories - the smaller animals competed among themselves like mice, rats, coach roaches and fro

Guest Writer's Profile: Name: Fiddy Lundu PenName: Fiddy Lundu Genre: Short stories Profession: Secondary School Teacher Location: Blantyre, Malawi REVENGE HAS A BITTER TASTE The celebrations at this bar, only known as Nzeruzatha, reverberated such that patrons hardly heard each other talk. Men, their bellies thrown out in the half-lit neon lights, danced with chic, rolling their waists as if they had no bones. Women, most of them teenagers, stuck to their 'temporary' male counterparts, squeezing them with that sexual salvation. They were their hope for the following day's meal. The DJ, who perched himself at an elevated cubicle was tall and thin and at intervals he could stand up, danced with exaggerated attics, his thin hips doing the rounds as the hit followed his vibrations. Then out came a boomed voice that gave courage for more dancing from the din dance floor. Chembonga, a tall fat character with a flying moustache, arrived at Nzeruzatha Bar at exactly 9pm, thir

  Guest Writer's Profile: Name: Sambalikagwa Mvona PenName: Sambalikagwa Mvona Genre: Fiction Location: Blantyre, Malawi THE LEATHER JACKET The two warring men lay on the fresh graveyard mound, facing each other. The slightly taller one, built like a gorilla and spotting a goatee had already died. The other one with square shoulders, his legs almost broken and his thick lips pulped lay groaning, his wrecked body showing some life with one battered eye still gazing distantly. Mun’ndo, for that was his name, felt bitter, for despite his great strides to reach this far in his bloody chase, he too was poised to follow the same way. He was not going to enjoy the fruits of his sweat. An inveterate gambler, he too knew he was going to die. Die a hard way.  He tried to take a new grip on the machete, but the killer metal slipped from his hand and dropped down soundlessly. Yes, the writing was on the wall, his eye stared at the half dug mound and he felt his throat dry. Was it not the rescu

Guest Writer's Profile: Name: Sambalikagwa Mvona PenName: Sambalikagwa Mvona Genre: Fiction Location: Blantyre, Malawi A CHICKEN FOR KHUMZ Of all market days at Lunzu, those at the end of the month are the most eventful. Lunzu remains the cheapest market for any food item, including maize bran, chickens and goats. It was written in one of the dailies that at the peak of the recent famine, a big goat could go for K1, 500.00 – the price of two chickens! I was among those who had made an early trip to Lunzu that Sunday morning. I was greeted by stampeding feet from different directions. Women in dirty chilundu cloths – carrying beans, premature pumpkins and semiconscious chickens – trooped towards the market place. Goats of different colours emitted different sounds as they were being dragged by men in farm clothes.  Chickens cackling by the roadside competed with voices of minibus touts calling passengers to board Blantyre minibuses. Stylish cyclists, ringing their bells with exagger

Guest Writer's Profile: Name: Matilda Phiri PenName: Matilda Phiri Genre: ShortStory/Articles/Poems/Proses/Folktales  Profession: Author, Social Worker, Model, Entrepreneur Location: Malawi Years of writing: 18 years THE2020MEGAMEN’SCONFERENCE “The long awaited men’s conference is finally here,” a loud but husky voice announced on the radio. Immediately, I dropped the mop, rushed to the radio and turned the volume up.“All Men,young and old, let’s meet at Chichiri Stadium for the mega men’s conference,” continued the message. As a man who was doing nothing important and with no hopes for a wife, I was curious and I quickly made up my mind that I should avail myself on this big day. My curiosity was on what will this conference bring forth on my life?What kind of men wilI meet there and how will they help me with my problems? These were questions that came into my mind and I prayed that this day should really come so that we can share our problems for problems shared are half solved.

Guest Writer's Profile: Name: Matilda Phiri PenName: @matildaphiriarticles Genre: ShortStory/Articles/Poems/Proses/Folktales  Profession: Author, Social Worker, Model, Entrepreneur Location: Malawi Years of writing: 18 years THE HARE FOOLS HIS FRIENDS There was once a Hare who organized a competition with other animals to prove to them that he was strong. He went to the elephant and told him to fight with him. “My dear friend Elephant, do you know that I am very stronger than you? In a tug of war despite being small I would win!” The elephant laughed at the Hare, asking him, why he was so confident.  “I am very big and also am a strong animal. I’d definitely win”, said the Elephant. After sometime while arguing, the elephant agreed to compete with the Hare to see who was very stronger. The Hare told the elephant to stay on one side and that he would go on the other side. When the Hare went on the other side, he found a lion preparing his meat and he greeted him. The Hare told him

Guest Writer's Profile : Name: Grace Athauye Sharra PenName: Grace Sharra Genre: Poems Profession: Secondary School teacher  Location: Bunda-Lilongwe, Malawi Sisi IN THE RAIN Sisi loved the lustrous lick of the rain onto her skin She loved dancing with arms flung about her hugging the raindrops and claiming them for her own. Sisi had a bubbly laugh that rippled with irrepressible joy in the rain Her feet would go pata-pata-pata-pata to a rhythm deep in the rain and her soul. Sisi said the sound of the rain could felt in the bones that rain was a communion, sacred and gods. Sisi made me pick out different melodies of the rain and so I loved me a good downpour on a quiet day discovered a sleep formulae in its soothing songs. While just outside Sisi hailed and claimed the raindrops and let them lick her clean. She said she felt our ancestors in the rain and I beloved when we finally went we too would return as rain. Sisi wanted to go on a day full of grey and mist; She'd live to o

Guest Writer's Profile : Name: Grace Athauye Sharra PenName: Grace Sharra Genre: Poems Profession: Secondary School teacher  Location: Bunda-Lilongwe, Malawi THE PARTING REQUIEM Today this heart feels like A death that finally arrived Tired, painfully but O so glad to finally locate this ghost of a home. And me wearer at soul for waiting too long. Weighed down by the sour foretaste of this eventual end I hurt all the same for this letting go that takes with it All that was once graceful, glorious, lender and full of promise Today, I feel a lot of sad things in this my belly As I sit bloated from a perpetual swallowing of your indifferences and all those choicy little hurts so small they nibbled away at my heart with stings like mean bites of broken glass on a dragged soul That cut me up so unkindly and left my bloody hopes all over the place Battered and bleeding noiselessly across the indifferent time Severing all that was once tender and soft and you Today, be kind to me for loss

Guest Writer's Profile Name: Garnet Howse PenName: Garnet Howse Genre: Poems/ Shortstory Profession: Accountant/ Auditor Location: Blantyre, Malawi Years of writing : 10years I THINK ABOUT YOU Sometimes at silent times like these I sit on my wooden chair And think about how much I have missed. I think about the time we missed Because of the fights we caused I think about the cloying kisses we missed Because of the oeuvres condoned I think about the tepid hugs we missed Because of the pride I had I think about the amorous dates we missed Because of the less a man I was I think about the steamy showers we missed Because of  our  shillyshally I think about the  ruttish dances we missed Because of  our unrequited  love… Much that time has passed Sometimes at silent times like these I want you to know that I miss you. BY GARNET HOWSE.

Guest Writer's Profile Name: Garnet Howse PenName: Garnet Howse Genre: Poems/ Shortstory Profession: Accountant/ Auditor Location: Blantyre, Malawi Years of writing : 10years SILENT WHISPERS Holy Castle How warm and sweet How warm and deep As you light up your candle at the middle of your room. As you light up your walls And hide under their shadows, you watch as they speak silence like flowers speak of love As you peek at their feet, chest and faces. Silence, a deep silence, As the echoes of love whisper. @GarnetHowse

Guest Writer's Profile Name: Elijah Sinkamba PenName: SCENG J Genre: Poems/Proses Profession: Software Engineer Location: Zambia I LET YOU IN MY HEART People say that in life …You cannot do it all alone  You need to earn at least one One, one person Now from your point of view  I have earned you How? I don’t know  But I have earned you You, who is so true and just  You, who loves me for what I am There is rarely someone in life… who is so very there But in spite of my short coming… you are always there  I remember when you said… Behold I stand at the door and knock, If any man hears my voice and opens the door I will come in. If you are tired of the load of your sin, If you desire a new life to begin, A changed heart from within, Let me in So, I let you into my heart… If there is a tempest your voice can not still If there is a void this world can never fill If friends once trusted have proved unreal, Them not being true, Find what a friend I will be to you So, I let you into my he

  Guest Writer's Profile Name: Elijah Sinkamba PenName: SCENG J Genre: Poems/Proses Profession: Software Engineer Location: Zambia MELANIN (AN ESSENCE OF ART) From the colour of her skin  to the texture of her hair to the breadth of her smile  She the real definition of beauty Melanin is what I call her by name She and beauty are equal and the same Lights camera action, she got the fame See how she sets the media aflame Afro! Her hair speaks her confidence Her physique attracts all that can see Beautiful and full of greatness A powerful colour full of duty Caring and loving are her ability Have you seen her beauty? Black and beautiful That describes the outside of her She has the smile that wins hearts A heart whose love is so innocent A beauty that comes from within Dark tainted melanin She wears her colour the sun of her smile The grace of her style Proudly like a crown because she is a queen  Black woman  Everything about you speaks of art Beautiful art You are the essence of ar

Guest Writer's Profile Name: Elijah Sinkamba PenName: SCENG J Genre: Poems/Proses Profession: Software Engineer Location: Zambia BROKEN AND BEAUTIFUL I want to be seen Yet I hide in the dark My skin I want to show But I’m afraid they will see my scars I want to be happy But for some reason, it’s very hard Because broken and it’s beautiful… I want to be the person I am Without judgments on my track I want to be brave and free And show the world who I am But if I do no one will understand me I am broken and it’s beautiful… I want to be loved I want to be free Remove this facade I show always I am broken Because…. Roses aren’t always red And violets are not blue Everything is just a big lie I wish the world could just be truthful Can someone just know me Don’t fix me Don’t try to change a thing Because underneath I am broken and it’s beautiful… I’m tired of my thoughts I feel like I’m losing my mind I’m tired of hating the person I see in the mirror I’m going to be myself Because….. I

Guest Writer's Profile Name: Gbenegbara Augustina Dumbari Genre: Short story Profession: Dental surgery student. Location: Nigeria CHAPTER THREE I woke up with a 'thud' the next morning. The tree branch I slept on after the chase last night broke. "Aaw..", I groaned. Hearing footsteps, I turned around to pick a stick. Can't be caught unawares. The sound drew closer and it turns out to be... Kemi?! "Huh? It's you!" I asked "Well don't you just love showing up wherever I am?" She retorted "Hmph.." I snorted, "I don't have time for you". I said "And how did you even escape?" I asked "It doesn't matter", she said walking away. I dropped my stick and walked around to look for fruits to eat. How can she be everywhere I am? I am beginning to believe what my cousin said. He used to tease me saying 'You and Kemi are made to be best friends. Until you recognize that and start acting on it,

  Guest Writer's Profile Name: Gbenegbara Augustina Dumbari. PenName: Tina Genre: Short story Profession: Dental surgery student. Location: Nigeria CHAPTER  TWO "Oh this is the life...", I sighed softly sunbathing on the deck and sipping a cocktail. The past week had been fun. The mornings consisted of watching the sunrise, exercising, yoga, eating breakfast and reading. In the evenings, we bathed in the pools and partied. Sometimes we sit in a circle and tell stories or play games or sing a song. And I love to stargaze when stars and moon come out to party. I met different people and made new friends - JoJo, Thelma, Billie and Sam. And most of all, I loved to spend time with Greg. Sometimes we'd could talk and laugh about almost anything for hours. He had a beautiful smile and when I looked into his eyes, I felt my heart skip a beat. Besides bickering a few times with Kemi and her friends, and a few hostile encounters with the rude ocean-staring-girl which I later fo

Guest Writer's Profile Name: Gbenegbara Augustina Dumbari. PenName: Tina Genre: Short story Profession: Dental surgery student Location: Nigeria HOLLOW Sometimes great love begins with great fury. These are tales of passion and partnership that ignite somewhere closer to hate. Warriors on opposite ends of a battle field align to oppose a greater evil. Sworn enemies become bound brothers for the greater good. Whatever it is that puts them at odds, it is no match for the power of what binds them together. CHAPTER ONE Darkness descended upon the land as the sun hid behind the clouds giving way to the lone bright moon. It was quiet in the jungle as the animals had retired for the night save a few crickets singing and the owls hooting. I panted as I crouched beneath a huge tree under the thick blanket of the night. My feets were aching and blood seeped out of the cuts on my skin. My eyes were heavy and my throat parched, yet the last thing on my mind was quenching my thirst as I relishe