Sometimes Good Schooling Comes At A Price
It wasn’t until I was 20 years old that I realized that I couldn’t read, write or even make sense of a single sentence in my native tongue.
Tag Archives: East London
Short Story – The 816 Words I Wrote In 2015
‘I try to conceal him in my blood but my mirror screams out his name’ ❤
This Is How I Reached The Finish Line, Last
The race taught me that my unhealthy body is not made out of glass ❤
Sinawo Bukani 