…Underneath

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I yearn for darkness, for the angels of the night,
For they are my safe haven, my perfect heaven,
Every moment of my life, I long..
To unsee the seen, the scene!
The horror he created, the trauma; I’m tormented,
The daily struggle to forget his haunting actions,
The nest, the cocoon he invested to create,
I knew right away, there and then,

I ran away to be sequestered from him,
To seek solace with people who understood my pain,
For that is where my shine is, where I find the light.
The sight of the golem, with a shiny epaulette on his bloody coat,
Walking with his huge hands, clapping, screaming,
Ranting after gaining the thrilling feeling of murdering,
After all the pain and suffering he had caused on his victims,
Satisfied with the killing.
Reminded me of the apothecary, with whom our love affair…
An affair I had become addicted to as it was…
Was sweet and sour, filled with melodious sounds of a brawl.
The abuse became me, the neck grasp and scars defined us.
The haunting memories: I see him, busy with his clasp,
Operating on his victim’s puckered scalp,
and finally…
Swaddling the fissured, desiccated body parts; stored jars,
In a warm fuzzy mat.

I speak in silence, not out of fright, but because in his presence,
His raw fragrance that tied up the loose ends,
Became…
my purpose; my essence
my shame; my decadence
my pain; my burden
my sad face; my sorrow_nest
I was worthless.

c/o. Angiee Hinga

#Dilemma

The bridge between family and friends is thin. Most of the time we tend to choose our friends over family. Why?  Friends are easy to manipulate. You can make them function to your favor!

Family will pressure the best out of you,occupy your space whenever wherever and sometimes want some of the shares of your success and achievements but…

They will always be your number one team. They will always have your back on everything. Even when you sway and make wrong decisions, they will welcome you back with open arms. They will always love you unconditionally.

Im not throwing shade to my lovely friends…#iloveyouguysforever😘

But its about time we walk, talk and develop “blood“ over friends!.

#Cry

And we declare today a poetry day. . So far it’s been a bit dark but i feel that pain defines us.

                             Cry…



You need to cry.. You have to cry.. You’ve got to cry..

You need to cry because you’re hurting. You need to cry because your heart was given back stamped upon.                              You need to cry because your hoping was in vain.

You need to cry because that’s the only way you’ll let go and move on.                      You need to cry so you won’t shatter.        You need to cry to release all that pent up anger and rage.

So it doesn’t kill you. So you don’t crumble

You need to cry so you’ll be okay.                  You’re strong,  you can handle anything but you need to cry.

Its okay.

Sometimes.. You just need to cry.

C/o Khalee Blakat

#Afrika

#poetry..

#Kitenge back again (there’s a good reason)!!

Guys im so excited. Do you remember the Kitenge Back piece (if not it’s just a couple of posts back). Im proud to announce that i was successful. 

I still have a bit of material left but i already made something awesome. So i took the kitenge apart to see how much material i was working with. I was just sitting there trying to think of something when i noticed the puffy shoulders could become something.

So i developed the idea,  cut up straps from an old light trouser and you’d never guess what i was able to make.

A Kitenge Bikini!!!

Yep.. I figured the material was light enough. It looks so good i could cry. I haven’t used the rest of the material but when i do, you bet i will post it here.

So try it.. You never know. And if you like how it looks just tell us. I don’t mind turning this new found passion into a small business. I will make you one or make one for someone dear (fellas).

As always we love that you take time to stop by. We have come quite a mile and seeing our baby grow up steadily is trully rewarding.

#Afrika

#motherland

#kitenge back

#Show Me!!!

Sometime back I heard some words that have stuck with me. Who taught you to hate the colour of your skin? Who taught you to hate your Afrikan features? The wide nose, the full lips and round eyes. Who taught you to hate your curly, kinky Afrikan hair. Who? Show me.

We have forgotten who we are. Our ancestors would cast their gazes away from us. We have forsaken our roots
For we are black and black is beautiful. Black is resilient, black is strong,  black has a backbone, black is proud of heritage, black is flawless, black is Afrikan and we are Afrikan. So black is us. We should not feel shame,  we dare not try to hide, try to change for we are black.

Pardon my language here but people been fucking with black people for a long time. I’m not saying this to start some shit but to make you understand what a gem you are. No matter our suffering we somehow come out much stronger each single time.

We created this blog not just about Afrika but Afrikans themselves. We hope to impact peoples’ lives. Show them that we are bold and beautiful. That Afrika, Afrikans and Black is good. I couldn’t be prouder.

That dark skin allows you to walk in sunlight no protection needed. You could stay out all day and you’re still good. Those Afrikan features are beautiful, they are unique,  they make us different(we just look like us). That hair, you can wear it kinky, straight, curly however you like. In my books that’s spetacular,  which means you are spectacular.
And since you can’t show me who taught you, recognize you are special. So stop it, embrace it. Black is courageous.

#Afrika

#THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY…

More poetry..

             The One That Got Away…

I watched as you walked away with that swagger in yo step I adored. My heart shattered,  an absurd pain in my chest. I lifted my hand towards you, opened my mouth to call you back but I lost my voice.

My hand dropped to my side, tears filled my eyes. My throat hurt from trying not to cry and breakdown like a child. Fists curled, eyes stinging, mouth dry from the effort.

Been so close but now so far, held you in my arms yet you slipped right through my fingers. So close to touching your heart though I missed by an inch.

Your disappointing me evolving. Once,  twice and apparently three’s a charm cause you charmed  your way out of that one. The ability to say the right words a talent. Like a scultor moulds clay you could string entire sentences together.

Many a time I stretched myself to try and make it work. I guess I had to move on. But moving on is very different from letting go. See, I told myself I moved on but how you occupied my mind infrequently. 

Be friends you said. More your choice than mine, it killed me.

As I watched you sashay away it hit me, like a rock it hit me. I had to let go. And as I turned and walked in the other direction, with every step I pretended you left my heart.

No,  you were no longer the one that got away but the one that was never worth of me.

C/o

Khalee Blakat.

#Afrika

#Does He?

Today the decision is to post poetry.. We will have something figured out soon if you want us to post your stuff..

             Does He??

I bet he doesn’t know you cry yourself to sleep most nights, I bet he doesn’t know he occupy’s your mind every single minute of every day, I bet he doesn’t know when you spot a cute couple you picture the same for you both, I bet, he has no idea you know every detail about him,  you can’t help it. 

How his eyes light up when he speaks of something he’s passionate about,  how his dimples form slowly at the base of his cheeks when he smiles,  how his nose flares when he laughs and how his brow lifts when he’s amused.

I bet he doesn’t know your heart jumps and races when you see him, Your day brightens just by the mention of his name, You smile foolishly to yourself when you go through moments you spent together in your head.
I bet he’s not aware of the pain you have pent up because though you try to convince yourself there is a future for you both your mind doesn’t see it, deep down you doubt.

Of your wondering and anxiety about your place in his life,  of your worrying that sooner rather than later he will be bored of you,  I bet he doesn’t know that you are afraid to lose whatever thing you have going on, I bet he doesn’t know you yarn for the day he’ll carress your face, kiss your forehead and fold you into his arms but this time.

This time the gestures will hold deeper meaning. I bet. I bet he doesn’t know you love him.

Does he?

C/o

Khalee Blakat.