By Sethunya Hlobisa Matsie The kitchen where you stand, Pots hot and stoves ablaze, With spices you incite, A mouthful of tongues that dance. The plants in your garden, Gently pruned, tenderly grown. The children who obey your commands, Are your gift to this earth. A bowl of honour, Set apart for life's commemoration. Those... Continue Reading →
By Dr Teedzani Thapelo i am adrifta body unmooredskin parched,dreams broken into shards of salt. the mediterranean whispersa monster without mercy,its tides are not waves but teeth gnashing, grinding relentless,pushing me farther from the land of my mother’s bones;the desert taught me thirstbut this blue mouth teaches me hunger. i came for the lightcities that... Continue Reading →
Petlwana is back from hiatus! You're most welcome to submit your work, but: PLEASE read the Submission Guidelines! They are not there for decoration! Reading them will give you the best chance to ensure that your work is eligible, and to avoid having to go back and resubmit. Do your part, and we will happily... Continue Reading →
Greetings to all our dear readers, and compliments of 2026! We want to let you know that Petlwana is taking a brief hiatus, but will be back soon. In the meantime, you are welcome to submit your work to petlwanajournal@gmail.com. Please note that it will take us longer than usual to respond, but we will... Continue Reading →
By Neelo Lentebanye I stayed up late,chasing whispers across blank pageswhile my soul begged for sleep.The journal stared back–its silence louder than my thoughts.I surrendered to the dark.Morning arrived with leheelo,the broom sweeping rhythm into the yard.The air carried the scent of wet soilfrom my mother’s blooming plants.She left for the fields with her friend,their... Continue Reading →
By Noah Vale A calling in flame and drumbeat.They gathered in silence older than bone,Around a fire that didn’t burn,But remembered.Ash and ember spoke my name,In tongues I hadn’t learned yet:YanguYanguYangu!The drums weren’t playedThey were summoned;Each beat, a footstep from the unseen.Each rhythm, a fingerprint of my past,Tapping at my chest chanting:Do you hear us... Continue Reading →
By Pearl Mokgatlhane Nobody lives there now, but it’s there that my heart always takes me.The floors used to gleam with polish.The yard neatly swept by my late grandmother.The modest vegetable garden stood proudly season after season of provision.A fire always burnt from morning to night, a tea-set always ready to welcome the parched visitorthat... Continue Reading →
By Bradley Leipego Once upon a time I was the richest manRiches bulged in my breast pocket Wealth was written on my faceRadiating as I walked the room Once upon a time I owned the moonMy very own moon I feared nothing because I had my moonNot even wraiths that lurked in the room My... Continue Reading →
By Miranda B. Joubert The mansion was deathly quiet. Elijah’s wife and children were away on vacation in Namibia. He sat next to his longtime friend, personal traditional doctor and diviner, Tshiamo. Tshiamo held an ice pack to his pulsating face. Elijah had just punched him and wasn’t going to apologise. He probably felt justified.... Continue Reading →
By PoeticPosh I am the story that the wind carries,A patchwork of dreams, scars, and memories,Not just the soil beneath my feet,But the fire that sparks when I meet my own heartbeat. I wear the colours of my ancestors’ tales,In laughter, in tears, in storms, and in sails,I am the echo of voices long gone,Yet... Continue Reading →
