African Empire

Yes it's full, how come you tell me, it's empty? Mozambique is your country, my country, our country. I always carry it at heart. It’s an amazing, well woven basket of great wealth in the world. Everyone desires the fruits it contains. And how come you tell me, it’s empty?             Every day, the ecstasy of its natural wonders lures tourists from different parts of the world to witness its unique, exquisite beaches, luxurious, evergreen forests, different types of wild animals, and the pacific buoyance of different rivers fluxing excitingly to the Indian Ocean. There is no way in which this harmonious ecosystem lets you unsatisfied. And how come you tell me, it’s empty?             The soil cries with its richness. The wonderful combination of fertile soil, the abundance of water from many rivers and the favorable climatic conditions sprouts large quantity of diffe...

It’s a well-defined, identified beauty one could only witness in Gaza province, The combination of her uniqueness and exquisiteness draws every man's attention, There is always something cultural and traditional, which lies behind her personality, The way she talks, smiles, walks unveils any malicious intentions from any enemy, She does have amazing eyes, which transmit light to darkness, Eyes full of life, passion and happiness, Her cocoa skin glows like a morning star, its softness is full of care and comfort, Her African noise, ingeniously well chiseled in great art, inhales naturalness and exhales perpetual life back to nature, It is Mozambican extraordinary beauty in its completeness, Coated with honey, her lips are sweat, well pleated than any valuable garment of the finest silk, These lips only articulate enchanting words of love and peace, Parading her teeth, lightning strikes flash, when she smiles, Digital...

They say love comes and goes, but ours will stay within us eternally, Why are you angry now? When I'm gone, Can you stop being mad at everything around you? Why are you weeping now? When I have disappeared, Can you wipe that tear off your cheek? Why are you bored? When I'm gone, Can you walking with head up? We were two gorgeous little doves with flamboyant same colours, but from different mothers, We lived a happy and fabulous life together, We flew distant, wonderful journeys, and always came back later together, We danced according to our love tunes, however, the nature couldn't hold up this happiness anymore, Days ago, the dove hunter catapulted stones to us, as we flew together as always, We flew to different directions, I lost you, you lost me, we lost ourselves, I called you several times, looking for you as I cried, you didn't answer, Now look! I'm gone, you are gone, we are gone, I feel both your absence and presence, bu...

With this ring, I give you my promise that from this day forward, I give you all my love, And you shall not walk alone, I have no greater gift to give, As your love is my anchor, And your trust is my strength, May my heart be your shelter and my arms be your home. As this ring has no end or beginning, So shall my love for you be, As I place it on your finger, I give you all that I am, And all that I shall become, Until death tears us apart. After having said these so enchanting and touching words, in this big memorable event, which involves family and friends, however, we still divorce. Why?             I have seen a girl weeping, spending sleepless nights and heartbroken, after a great deception of a relationship, she had thought perfect. Few months later, she ran towards me, embraced me, in a great joy and told me that she was now in another relationship in which she could never re...

Religion is one of the oldest practices in human history. It includes a common set of elements, which may be believed or practiced differently, which are the existence of ceremonial occasions, the divine power, sacred things and places, faith, supernatural being or beings etc. The existence of different geographic areas, genetic differences between races of humankind, distinctive languages and ethnic groups lead to different cultures in which religion is born.             Human beings have been wondering in the quest for the meaning of their lives. We have encountered ourselves immersed in deep pools of unanswerable questions about our existence. Where did we come from? Who created us and everything around us? And someone could answer," the supernatural beings". But then, who created the supernatural beings as we also were created? That is where things start getting complicated and confusion is born.    ...

"What do you want to be when you grow up?," the teacher asked, leaning back into his almost rotten, broken black chair in which he always sat carefully, supported by the deteriorating, dirty classroom walls. His voice could be heard by anyone who could pass near by his classroom. All students were attentive and eager to hear the response from this slim, miserable and unhealthy Hakuzari. Few students from his village knew that both his parents had died after succumbing to the ravages of unknown terrible disease, which children were not allowed to mention except the elders. His father was the first to die, followed by his mother few months later, leaving Hakuzari in the guidance of his very old maternal grandmother. He loved his grandmother. She had been everything he had. Every day, early in the morning, she cooked corn porridge for him." Children of these days are too much fragile like eggs, that’s why they like eating eggs and bread at breakfast. Eat porridge,...

As I let my fingers slithering around each goose bump of your firm, succulent breasts, I feel like the bed we are lying on is on top of unbearable ice, letting my body going numb, feeling absolutely nothing from this violent and cruel outer world. Your glittering watery soft lips melt like mysterious, unfinishable chocolate bars in my mouth. The tantalizing smell of your cozy, scintillating dark black hair makes me to forget all terrestrial troubles, I have each day. My humble body trembles convulsively from unexplainable pleasure when you whisper slowly and silently in my ears that you love me. I am not such forgetful of not remembering the strength of your dovelike eyes, small, blackened and whitened, which let all the truth out of me whenever I think of lying to you. Your hairy beautiful and incomparable legs of chocolate-like nature make my tongue dry that it needs rescue of juice-like water which flows down provocatively and slowly from between your African bow sh...

As the sun’s irradiation permeates the little Tchakalala’s oily, sudoriferous dark skin, his pallid cracked hard lips were slightly opened, to help his breath from the overcrowded multitude. The weary, brown t- shirt he wore was bigger than his small, malnourished body. No one could ever agree with the fact that the t- shirt had been pure white once, the day his uncle Tongi received it as a governmental special gift, after he had restlessly participated in the previous presidential elections campaign. Tchakalala could feel the insufferable heat from the uneven, rocky ground, perforating tardily through his filthy granitic cracked barefooted heels. He had waited with the crowd since morning and now was noon, clapping hands, singing and cheering up to the eloquence of the governor’s words, he could hardly decipher. This was another first day of presidential campaign in his village. The only words, he gasped and cheered at the most, were the ones the governor ha...