Poem by Louise Banahene
This Kente Cloth belonged to my dad. It’s over 80 years old and travelled in his trunk when he made the journey from Ghana to the UK. Each handwoven Kente...
This Kente Cloth belonged to my dad. It’s over 80 years old and travelled in his trunk when he made the journey from Ghana to the UK. Each handwoven Kente...
Am I wrong? My reflections of my life as a black, British mother By Colina Wright. Whilst I’ve often reflected on how I introduce myself, preferring to refer...
Linens (Second-generation Kurdish Turkish Brit) Linens pin-pricked, the shadow in my eyes, fills up the shape of you and I, I pour into you, that molten tide,...