“I wanted to be close to the people in order to sense an acceptance of my doings.” — In And Out Of A Windhoek Darkroom by Dieter Hinrichs, with images curated by Dag Henrichsen from Basler Afrika Bibliographien Archives.
“One day, we won’t have more days.” — The Gift by Jean-Claude Tjitamunisa.
“I was forever falling.” — Oviruru by Jean-Claude Tjitamunisa.
“Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Did you forget about the silence?” — Bones And Demigods by Taj Francis.
“Her name is the space between home and homebound.” — My Mother’s Garden by Nia McAllister.
“The colour of speak only when spoken to.” — Pantone by Nia McAllister.
“With motion born of my body I make those migration moves match that transatlantic tempo.” — Memory Mapping by Nia McAllister.
“Here we are, a little lower than the angels, stuck between the gods and the grave—and that’s a lot to wrestle with. Writing about all that it means to be in this powerful but fragile form can take a lifetime—and you still won’t finish.” — Literatea, 06 by Roland Watson-Grant.
“However fast you go, however slow you travel, however far you have come, however far you have left to go, carry on.” — Komesho, an editorial by Rémy Ngamije.