Chike’s story is reminiscent or rather symbolic of the American dream, one that I do not share in: that everyone has the same opportunities, and that the highest aspirations and goals can be achieved via hard work. This review is no place for me to share my lack of belief in the American dream, but for anyone that cares, I point you to the systemic barriers and the neoliberal system of policy making in place that inhibit people, particularly Black and persons of colour, from achieving and accumulating wealth. Nevertheless, I am proud of a brother who overcomes these barriers.


Image retrieved from Google images

My mother’s God does not like me,

Yet she prays to him about me.

My mother’s God does not see me,

Yet she prays to him to guide me.

My mother’s God may never like me,

Cos’ I have taken for myself a woman as a lover.

I have made a home and a temple out of her.

My mother says to go to church,

I say I am already there.

My mother is furious, says her God does not approve.

I say it ain’t news to me.

My mother’s God is a jealous one,

He does not like my lover.


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My love, is it envy that I see in their eyes

When you extol me before the world?

When you call me by my name and tell them how blessed you are to be mine?

My love, is it red that I see on their faces

When they dance before you

But you tell them that your gaze belongs to me?

My love, why am I so at peace with you?

Oh, that my heart is still even in the midst of a storm.

My love, your eyes shine as bright as ten thousand suns.

You bear with you an…


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From me arises a generation of brilliant women who will never, for a day, question their worth; they will trust their intuition without wavering. They will brew storms and cause wars with their ink. They will bring famine and drought to the homes of the greedy. No, my girls will not sit in silence, nor will they wait for an invite to the table. My girls are not home keepers. They will neither audition for love nor slave for the male gaze.

The skin tone of my girls (is) Black. Deep, deep black, like the forests from which their seeds…


Nurses-support-their-young.jpg

Nurses as the invisible other is a concept that is neither new nor foreign. The term “invisible other” serves as a stigma that seeks to reduce the bearer or the one acknowledged as such to nothing. In their article, Invisible other: Understanding safe spaces for queer learners and teachers in adult education, Toynton (2006) explained the ‘invisible other’ as the disappearance of the self-identity and confidence of queer people while navigating educational spaces. Although Toynton (2006) argued that this disappearance could be self-imposed or from an external source, in this article, I will refer to the representation of nurses as…

Eberechukwu P Akadinma

Love maker. Trouble maker. Listener. Storyteller. I write sometimes; Sometimes poetry, sometimes prose.

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