The Bridge – Part III
“Mbuya,” said my dad after a long pause. He always affectionately called me Mbuya because he named me Emily after…
Read More“Mbuya,” said my dad after a long pause. He always affectionately called me Mbuya because he named me Emily after…
Read MoreAs I stared at the blood stain on the Chitenge cloth, the strength drained from my legs. I couldn’t take…
Read MoreA Zambian Short Story by Emily Nyirenda (The names and place names in this story have been changed to protect…
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