What I Feel

What if I lived by what I feel?

Would I kill everything that makes me ill?

Would I be capable of loving everything that gave me the chills? 

There was a girl named feels

It has been years since I have healed

And I have been in the field

Seen it all, done it all

Now I wait on that ring, like it’s God’s calling 

So miss feels, why are we stalling?

I know you can’t help that I have fallen

I wake up every morning, tossing and turning 

Pillows bashing, like I’m smashing

Oh Lord, what is wrong with me?

See I know what I want, and I know miss right is out there

I won’t have to worry about her acting funny, like some of these bad bunnies

Some say they want me

Some say they hate me

I lied, they all love me

But I just want someone ready

I promise, I’m not a player

To them, I might be a pawn

Your value is where you shop

I can’t stop how some treat me 

So I’m vibing, setting boundaries, thrashing waps, getting my gwap. 

I guess I’m doing what I feel, until I meet miss feels

You know, the one that gives me the chills. 

Lansana Sesay was born in Freetown, Sierra Leone. He holds a BS in Communication from Bowie State University and is currently pursuing his Masters in Strategic Communications at the University of Maryland Global Campus. Sesay is passionate about expression through poetry and enjoys art, cooking, adventure, and exploring new places.

Voices of Our Ancestors

by Fidel Alexander Massaquoi

we asked where it went wrong

why when we tried to move, they don't tag along

but with every corrupt act they were there

warning of the ill fate we will have to bear

the sounds of bullets flying

and of bombs exploding

those were the cries of our ancestors

we swore we repented; we swore we forgave

we, a happy family, and in our hearts have love engraved

but deep down we despised

making them bleed in our demise

the sirens wailing

the mass undertaking

those were the screams of our ancestors

we are growing we say

we have been purged clean, no chance we will go astray

but the vice of denial, not accepting who is not of our race

scaled our hearts, made our heroes shudder in disgrace

the steep slopes rolling

the dark clouds descending

those were the tears of our ancestors

"They can still make it right," they hope

we can still make it right, we know

with love as the sail, and our kids the vessel

the glorious days would inevitably be factual

‘cause their singing and dancing

the nation rejoicing

these would be the smiles of our ancestors.

Fidel Alexander Massaquoi is a civil engineer living in Sierra Leone. He enjoys reading fantasy novels and listening to rap music. He spends his free time (whenever he sees little of it) writing poems and one-liners. Follow his work on Twitter at @elfidof7.

Black Woman

By Rosaline Virginia Bundeh

A black woman is told:

your smile is dazzling and elegant but it’s too much

your laughter is stunning, but it draws attention and it’s too much

you are hard-working, you bleed your palms and bruise your knees, but it’s not enough

I notice you have two hands that bind softly but you act like they are on cuffs

you are beautiful, your skin glitters but it’s still rough

you are black, you are cultured but you are not black enough

being a black woman is tough

To a black woman, they say:

you talk boldly, you’re defensive but it’s too loud

you work tirelessly but you always frown

Some say: don’t look up, look down

others say: don’t look down, look up, don’t act like a clown

don’t stare, it’s rude, don’t look down it's dumb

you are too ambitious; you’re always chasing something like a crazy cat

you’re this! You’re that!

To a black woman, some say:

your stretch marks resemble the back of a tree and it’s not pretty

your curves are unique but your thighs are too thick

your thighs draw attention. They are too flabby

they define saggy breast as being slutty

they will say; you’re too humble, you’re too rude, you’re too fast, you’re too slow

society will always complain and want black women to act like a supernatural being

when they are treating her like a worthless thing

As a black woman

my elders will hurt me, but I dare not speak

men will touch my hips, and squeeze my thighs, force themselves on me and smile 

It’s our culture to be respectful even when they are breaking our bones 

or bruising our thighs or painting our faces black and red with a slap

men will rape you, but it’s not new, its most of my sister’s stories, 

they say: I am not that beautiful but I am always complaining 

I am an attention seeker, so I should stop whining.

Being a black woman is like being against the world

It’s like you carrying mother earth and fighting with the sun and moon

they will expect us to speak after cutting our tongue

society will say ooh no! It’s a girl

and they will shake their heads in disappointment 

even if we mop the ocean, they will still point out the tiny drops and say we are lazy or call us an embarrassment

they will send us in the dark, pluck out our eyes and say stop acting blind

We are Champions

Our skin is rich, fresh, dark, and soft, it glitters

Our greatness is about embracing our true selves regardless of the pains or heartaches

I’m a black woman with flaws but I’m me and I’m unique

 I’m a pearl

You are a black woman, you are tough, you are priceless, you are rare, you are worth a king’s ransom, you are valuable 

Being black is POWERFUL.

Rosaline Virginia Bundeh is a writer and public health practitioner currently residing in Freetown. She finds beauty in words and enjoys the trials of life. You can follow her on twitter at @RBundeh.

Mi at sidɔm saful

Mi at sidɔm saful by Anni Domingo

1. Mi at sidɔm saful bikɔs a no se

pan ɔl we di wɔl tɔnɔbɔ ɔlsay

sɔm pɔsin dɛn de we de wok

de ɛn nɛt fɔ ol wi ɔl tayt

so natin nɔ go ambɔg wi.

2. Mi at sidɔm saful bikɔs a no se

pan ɔl we wi de bay wisɛf,

ɛn wi nɔ de niya wi kɔmpin,

wi ɔl na wan ɛn de fil ɔl

wetin wi kɔmpin de fil.

3. Mi at sidɔm saful bikɔs a no se

pan ɔl we ɔlman lɔk insay os, in wan gren,

di wɔl dɔn big. Wi de tɔk naw sɔm kayn we

wi nɔ mɛmba se go apin wan de. Ɔlman na

wan, ɛn wi bisin bɔt wi kɔmpin dɛm.

4. Mi at sidɔm saful bikɔs a no se

dɛm wan dɛm we nɔbɔdi bin de braskitul sɛf,

na dɛm de bifo naw. Dɛn nɔ de na grɔn igen,

wi abop pan dɛm. Na so wi ɔl de klap fɔ dɛm.

5. Mi at sidɔm saful bikɔs a no se

wi kin manej naw witawt bɔku bɔku tin dɛm.

Na pɔsin, nɔto tin dɛm, go mek wi layf bɛtɛ,

Ɛn tɔn dawt ɛn tabitabi to op fɔ tumara.

6. Mi at sidɔm saful bikɔs a no se

Dis lɔkdɔng ya so, nɔ min se wi fasin insay.

I mek wi at swɛl big so te wi ebul fɔ

pre fɔ dɛn wan dɛm we dɔn lɔs dɛnsɛf

ɔ dɛm bɔdi dɔn brok wit tumɔs wahala.

7. Mi at sidɔm saful bikɔs a no se

ɔl dis bɔku plaba go tap wan de.

Ivin na dis kres kres tɛm ya so

Wi dɔn fɛn tru sori-at ɛn ajo,

ɛn wi at de sing wit jɔy.

8. Mi at sidɔm saful bikɔs a no se

tide na bunya, ɛn wi nɔ no wetin go kam

tumara bambay. We wi ɔl sidɔm na os

di grɔn dɔn gɛ tɛm fɔ de mɛn insɛf.

9. Mi at sidɔm saful bikɔs a no se

ɔltin we de insay wi at, na di sem tin

we bin de fɔstɛm, bikɔs ɔltin na wan

i sidɔm na wi at, ɛn fasin wi to aw

wi tan lɛk dip insay, to udat wi bi.

10. Mi at sidɔm saful bikɔs a no se

wi dɔn gɛt bɔku bɔku tɛm. so lɛ wi

tinap, lɛ wi lisin ɛn memba se,

wi tranga, ɛn bay ɛn bay, wi go ebul

fɔ blo kam dɔng igɛn .

Anni Domingo is a British-Sierra Leonean actress in Theatre, Television, Radio and in Films.

Note: Ms Domingo would like to acknowledge Amadu Bangura and Esme James  for helping with

official Krio orthography in this poem.