Favorkhaoya

I spent the better part of my afternoon at work talking with my friends exchanging tales full of grandeur and terror. When I left them in the evening, I had enough inspiration to write a daunting story. A tale of ancient secrets and long-forgotten curses, with a blurring line between the living and the dead.  The air in my dimly lit study was heavy with anticipation as I sat hunched over my laptop to write it. I could feel the words flowing through me like an unstoppable force, yet I had not finished it. I was convinced this would be my longest story ever. I hammered away at the keys, my fingers trembling with excitement and trepidation. In the heart of a remote village nestled deep within the dense, ancient forests of Nakuwa, there existed a tale whispered only in hushed tones. It was a story of ancient secrets and long-forgotten curses, where the line between the living and the dead had blurred, and the very air seemed to carry the weight of centuries gone by. The vil...

Dear Writer, As I pen this letter to you, I envision a fellow dream weaver, traversing the labyrinthine passages of creativity, seeking solace amidst the tumultuous storms of inspiration and self-doubt. I have watched you from the periphery of your literary endeavors, marveling at the tapestry of tales you conjure with mere ink and paper. And so, I am compelled to send this letter - a gentle breeze of encouragement to carry you forward on your writer's odyssey. In the realm of writing, we wanderers often find ourselves grappling with a tempest of emotions. The euphoria of birthing a new world, the frustration of writer's block, the anxiety of exposing our souls through ink-stained pages - it is an eternal dance of light and shadow. Yet, it is precisely amidst these tumultuous waves that writers emerge as alchemists of language, transforming thoughts into tangible art. As you navigate this perilous sea, remember that writing is not a solitary pursuit. It is a dance o...

  It's been a minute since I wrote. Not a hot fleeting minute like a summer crush or the burning out of a candle wick. It's more of the length of time it takes to burn down a nation. Talking of burning nations, my nation is currently burning. Literally and figuratively. There is the government, the opposition, the government apologists, and those who are fueled by chaos. It's a whole hellfire out there in the streets. I would highly recommend that if you can't run or fight or see in the smoke-filled air, stay in your house! Duvet warmth will keep you warmer than the fires being lit on the streets.  So where was I? Oh yeah! My writing break. To be honest, I can't explain why I haven't been writing. What's more unfortunate, is I can't explain a lot of things. I can't explain why I wanted to wake up early today morning, I can't explain why I did wake up early and still went back to bed. Nor can I explain why after I woke up feeling energized, I spen...

    First, Arrrrrgghhhhh!!!! Second; Why does it feel like your heart dies when you grow up? Third; Everything sucks, JUST KIDDING! Everything is great! Why don’t psychological tricks work on me? I can swear I have heard my best friend, Nikita “manifest” over a hundred times and it all comes to happen; don’t get me started on the number of times her moods change in a matter of seconds. I am convinced she has a brain switch! How else would you explain someone being sad and hurt one minute and then over the top the next? But I am not her; I never will be. My mind lingers on that thought more than it should. At that moment, it all becomes real and I experience sadness so excruciating it makes it hard to want to live beyond it. I tell myself I am okay because I need to know that I am. I tell myself I am okay again. I keep saying it, more times than I have ever said it out loud. Every time I say it, I am hit by a wave of relief and a tornado of sadness. I feel like I am p...

  Amber “Till death do us part! Who the fuck came up with such a clause!” I thought to myself while resisting the urge to throw the bottle of whiskey to the wall. Yes, whiskey! In a span of two weeks, I had graduated from a wine drinker in fancy flutes and coupes to a whiskey guzzler. I wasn’t even wincing while draining the content of the bottles. I was convinced that my solace would be found at the bottom of that bottle. But how wrong I was. It was finally that time when everyone who came to mourn with me had left. I was forlorn and lost; waiting for the healing touch of good memories, love, and laughter to return to me with the breath of life. However, two weeks later, none of that seemed possible. I was still feeling stuck and trapped in my thoughts. My thoughts are a dreadful place; a very dreadful place. They all take me back to that moment; the moment Sara, our family doctor called to tell me they had gotten a kidney for Matthew; my husband, and that it was a match. I was el...