A Man of Good Hope

He grabbed these questions gratefully, as if they were gifts of milk and bread.

I did not lose her despite her death. I am not sure that words can describe what I am trying to tell you. I mean that by the time I was seven, she had already made me.’

While his internal eye peers into his childhood, the eyes on either side of his nose scan the stre

In his every decision, the imperative to be free tussles with the imperative to be safe.

It comes to me slowly, as our time together stretches into a rhythm, and as the rhythm begins to emit meaning.

Trading money for access to a poor person’s private world is fraught

reputable books on Somalia, and I will bury myself in them.

When you are still in the womb, Allah has decided the course of your whole life.

out the parts it does not want.

Cape Town’s asshole, the muscle through which the city shits