By Dr Teedzani Thapelo When the king died, they wrapped him first in leopard skin,Then in silence, then in the heavy fraud of praise.The drums said mountain.The women said father.The councillors said sun.The cattle lowed as if history itselfHad lost its horn. But beneath the skin, inside the dark republic of flesh,The first priests had... Continue Reading →
By Dr Teedzani Thapelo Every orgasm rehearses death. The body knows thislong before philosophy arriveswith its books and trembling explanations. The old French called itla petite mort—the little death. But beneath African skiesthe body understood alreadythat sex and death drinkfrom neighbouring wells. The same hips that conceive childrenwill one day stiffen beneath burial cloth. That... Continue Reading →
