“Whether it be temptation and the subsequent eviction from Paradise, romantic heat, amorous lust, decaying heartbreak, or allegories for health and wealth, fruits have always been stores of soft and hard power.”—Comos Os Frutos, photographs by Daisy Serena.
“In which I shed a single frozen tear while drowning in golden sunshine.”—What I Am, poetry by Undjizuva Kaputjaza.
“Like a church without God, Kinshasa without a bar is an urban illusion.” — No State Of Emergency, an auralgraph from Kinshasa by Merdi Mukore.
“Your body is political. Your affection is a first language.”—Oriki Para Omolu – poetry, photography, and film by Daisy Serena.
“Small, diverse, and subtle details forged our being, our soul, our identity.”—Identité, a poem by Ayi Renaud Dossavi.
In full colour—not the documentary, anthropological, reductive black and white—the native mystic claims its place in full colour in the visual imagination in Kwame Sousa’s oil on canvas series.
“It’s mincemeat, all of it.” — Itch, a short story by Jarred Thompson.
“On a small island you trust everyone because there is nowhere to run.”—No Fun, a poem by Tanveer Jeewa and a film by Ondjaki.
“In Luanda, in 1992, we were confined to our houses for a week. It seemed like a joke. It was not.”—That Is How We Are Feeling, photographs by Indira Mateta.