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.

Krawo

As an Eastend pikin,

the only breakfast I knew 

was a hot pot 

of grandma’s kol rɛs

Spoons will break 

before krawo goes to waste

On the other side of a six-hour flight; 

My first breakfast in this foreign land,

Grandma’s pot is replaced 

by a microwave

wetin dis? 

Porridge!

Rɛs nɔ de? 

if na rɛs yu want, a go mek am fɔ yu!

No firewood, no smoke,

no matches, no struggle

My kol rɛs is piping hot 

in under five minutes

Love is starting your day 

with a taste of home

but this plate  

lacks grandma’s touch 

because as kwik as i de wam kol rɛs, 

microwave nɔ de mek krawo.

Abu B. Yillah is a London-based British-Sierra Leonean interdisciplinary artist with a primary interest in poetry and filmmaking.  Alongside his creative work, Abu co-curates the Sierra Leone Arts & Culture festival (#SLACfest), a celebration of work from Sierra Leoneans across the world.

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.

I Am The Sierra Leone

I am the Sierra Leone that collared a tripping mouthed stranger

whose intoxication challenged my existence before his arrival

O' how he aroused the sentries watching over my fathers' land

whose thunderous growls must have sent him back to the coast

I am the Sierra Leone whose belly is home to to a thousand treasures

adorning a suit of resilience, I splash in exotic waters of patience

and laze on beaches paved with marble sands under the Sierra sun

a picture of queenly flair to all who graze upon my lush greens

I am the Sierra Leone that birthed the Senghe Pieh's heart

of defiance and will to live or die fighting for a right to live

one whose humanity was shipped away on high seas of slavery

to feed the lowliness of colonialism through gullets of racism

I am the Sierra Leone that nursed and taught the Davidson Nicols

of this world, to grace the Halls of the Great Athens of West Africa

whose apparel of glory left to dive, shall fly again in the African skies

for ours is a people with a vision to mark our handprints in history

I am the Sierra Leone where the 'Yokos'

of every generation

dance to the traditional drumbeats of virtue and pride of womanhood

amid deafening citations of high infant and maternal mortality

while the shadow of morbidity stubbornly lingers around our homes

I am the Sierra Leone that an eleven year conflict and carnage

left behind to rise from the shambles of past mistakes, to sing

with one voice that never again shall we swim in rivers of our own blood

just because our voices are stifled by voices stronger and powerful.

Samuella Conteh is a writer, poet and human rights professional from Sierra Leone.