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“Yes, master,” She uttered as she cleaned away his mess with tears rolling down her cheeks Pain in her voice even as she speaks “No, sir,” Was heard from afar Echoes of a man caned...
One thing I find incredible about African youth is that Africa is almost always at the center of their art — be it the beauty of the land, its people, or bad governance. This poem looks at the beauty...
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No, Thank You