I Do Not Worship The God You Worship (Poem by Modou Lamin Age-Almusaf Sowe)

What does the God you serve do for you?

Is he not the God of poverty

The carrier of sicknesses

The doer of evil who easily kills than he can cause life

Is he not the God, they say, owns the moon?

That God, they say, is all-seeing; the all-seeing eye

Is he not himself the God of destruction?

I speak with the word and voice of God

Vox Populi, Vox Dei

Hit you with my cock and dick

In Jola, I shout the word  'Leh-gaga leh cock'

Hating on me, I do not just give a fuck

I am not married because I cannot marry the blood of Satan

My blood is so pure to unite Muslims.

I do not worship the God you worship.

You painted my image in black and white

With fraud and sexual harassment allegations

Just because I refused to join your religion

You can't defame my fame

I do not burn in the flame

But yet, took the blame

To cover up for your shame, I did earn the hate and hatred.

I know everything about the Secret Society

Perhaps, that's why most of you hate me

Gambian literature,

I do not worship the God you worship.

I dearly know the prophet called Haddy Ceesay

He stammers and has one-eye

The doyen praise singer and guardian of the book of Satan

I knew him as the god of the national museum

I met all his family in the spirit world

I killed his twin and intertwined his dream

I do not write because I want to

Angels who betrayed God

Satanail and Azazel

I recognized you all in the realm of the occult

I've been redeemed to operate in the world of the supernatural

I do not worship the God you worship.

I do not sell my soul to be Achebe or Shakespeare

To be famous and make noise at trade fairs

But you all know I am the custodian of Gambian literature

Managers show me manners when they see me behind the cameras

If you cannot worship my God, respect the G.O.A.T in me

I see more than the eyes of the Anti-Christ

I derail Christ and praise Jesus Christ

When I die, bury me in Mecca or Madina

I know why you killed Sadam Hussein, Gaddafi, and Sankara

We don't die we multiply and then we come and divide you.

I do not worship the God you worship.

I cannot be an Ahmadiyya 

Because Ghulam Ahmad is not better than me

Go and ask Satan if he doesn't know the Mahdi

Find out why I am Almusaf 

My name is the name of the Quran

I am a qur'anic verse

If death, I fuck

If knowledge, I made it.

I do not go to school to have wisdom

I read the Book of Enoch

My life is a mystery

I know the location of hell

Even if I die and go to hell,

I will end up going to heaven.

I do not worship the God you worship.

I am the book of the New Testament

I don't need trophies to wear gold

My God is sufficient for me

Am a beast, am an alien, am ahead of my class

I am not a human

I burned the Church of Christ

Because if there is God, why won't Jesus be one

I do not write this poem

The devil did

You destroy the Quran and the Bible without burning them

I do not worship the God you worship.

I already exchanged my blood

Rehearsed for my death

Swam in the human waters of bravery

I am holy and horny

Sex doesn't make me drunk

God did.

If you won't allow LGBT

Change your gender

Men and women are not toys

Boys for men and girls for women

I met Satan twice in my life

If there is heaven on earth,

I take Islam as my sacrifice

I made incantations

Bath in the blood of lies

I am nothing but only a poor slave of Allah.

I do not worship the God you worship.

 

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Decolonizing The Heart (A Poem) by Modou Lamin Age-Almusaf Sowe

Hey Miss Tonto,
You running to my mama I want you to please tell her I say that I say something
Miss Tonto, I started to believe in such things like heaven's trumpet
After it is over, is this is it done?
If there is heaven, make it speak to your son
Exaggerated a little bit
Trying to make a point to make you understand why you should quit smoking.

Miss Tonto, you see my moma tell her am lost,
Living in a world without a mother when life is tough
Falling in love is not love.
Before my funeral is arranged
Before the sky is damaged
The rivers are folded like a carpet
Your kings will be our slaves
We will assemble every man from his grave
From the incense of intelligence
To the hospital of thoughts;
We taught your teachers what you never read in books.
If insanity is the drug of misery
What is the cure for death?

Miss Tonto, my sins always light the cigarettes and people talk when I cough
I started back up again; twenty years later, I got famous throughout the world
Can buy food for myself when is life soft.

Miss Tonto, you see my mama whisper her this:
The real reason why I go to church on Sundays to confess my sins,
Passing my Bible studies and Satan helping me with my homeworks,
I saw spirits spitting and eating the flesh of so on and so on,
And until this day, Gambians do not know I write for them.
From Ghana to Alabama
Read my speeches like Barrack Obama
God sent down prophets and books
But you swallowed the pages
Painted the law of divinity
Declared yourselves prophets
Steal, rub and drink
Constitutionalized lies
Monetized the law
and normalized evil.

Miss Tonto, you see my father please ask him why he married my mother, was he happy inside?
Because it takes dignity to carry my mother's name with him.
Am sure I did it in spite of my decision at birth to be a Nigerian:
I'm a genius inside battling with Satan and all angels running arts and culture
We're like two young people with different views whether a penis is actually a toy.
I die from heart conditions caused by the divorce I did to The Gambia
What's the need of decolonizing the mind if the heart is still enslaved?
When prophets and kings sold their souls
Lies on the lips of a president
Writers write for Satan
The pastor preaches good but drinks from the bottle of sin
Money is god
Winning is vital
School teaches immorality
Education doesn't benefit Ph.D. holders
Technology controls your minds
But we control your hearts.
Decolonizing the mind, for who, to whom?
Who lied to you?

Delicious My Sugar Sauce ( Love Poem )

                                                  

Disclaimer: Modou Lamin Age-Almusaf Sowe was paid by a client to write this love poem for her. The name of this person is withheld for personal reasons. Therefore, the picture is only used with the permission of the person herein for the purpose of this poem.

Excuse me, did you say something?

Was you talking to me?

It all started when I started seeing your face on my examination papers

You became my DP

My wallpaper

My screensaver and the saver of my screen

I saw you and wanted to shout, but I yelled and screamed

Afraid of your body cream

Intending to fetch water from your stream

It was all a dream.

Was it?

Your image started blocking my sight My nose loss its sense of smell Your looks blocked my incoming words My ears felt shy of you I trembled and trampled Gazing at you gives me a heart attack Like Attack without Jizzle, I attacked your shadows Printing my lips at Shadow Print Walking from Old Yundum to Bambo I mistakingly drank a bottle of shampoo.

Excuse me, did you say something?

Was you talking to me?

Loving you is giving me pimples

Your smiles give me dimples

Your hips make wise men foolish and foolish men very foolish

I started using tissues in public

Laughing at vans and gele geles I hate watching TV, and television started chasing me You got me on the left And you got me on the right I love you, is that alright?

Excuse me, was you talking to me?

Did you say something?

I write as the writer in me With tears in my heart Fears in my eyes Blood in my hands And discomfort in my brain To shout out to you The word "I LOVE YOU" in tick capital letters I think this might be worth your attention, don't you? Empathy became my God And your love is my religion School taught me nothing if not sitting on chairs Everybody wants to be the lion in your jungle I became the lion who eats both the lion and the jungle Bottle of perfumes started meaning nothing to me I burned like a wasted petrol I got lost like a needle in the middle of the sea Through the windows of my mind, it is you I see I couldn't stand seeing you with other guys I started hiding my feelings for you But this feeling I'm feeling is killing me It is kneeling me and dissing me willingly.

Excuse me, was you talking to me?

Did you say something?

My love for you is whiter than a bride's dress on her wedding I made you fall asleep in my heart To wake up in my dreams You are the pillow that brings me closer to God When I was heartbroken You fixed in me what was broken What ancestors did you summon to the summit? My heart was broken at the AU Summit To give me what I needed

What you need to take from me.

I like the caesura you deliberately make in contextuality of my dramatic irony I like the brevity in your sensation

Your love is burning my heart, daily I burn Are you not yourself an angel from the above? I speak in tongues for the love in me is big enough to hide you in my world. The first day I saw you, I feel like going live on QTV telling everybody it is me Assistant Jesus The way you walk nearly made me Start throwing stones at the gate of the Statehouse Women like you deserved to be told At least 72 times in a day that you are beautiful Lips like the gospel of Mathew and hair like Surah- An-Nisa Hips like ranha bisap I like how you kick my mind like a football Playing ball with bullets Oily like chui boullet. My distinguished queen, Here is your crown to wear. You deserve to be treated like a queen and loved like a mother; I love my eyes when you look into them When you smile everybody got to look aside My heart is pumping deoxygenated blood into my head For being so hungry to eat your lips. I read the devil's love bible Verses to rhymes all speak about you The way I love you cannot be a lie Because even if I sit up straight, I cannot lie.

My special wishes to you! To schedule or book me for public lectures/ book launches/ conferences/ readings/ scriptwriting/ keynote/motivational speaking events, please email: modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com 

 © All Rights Reserved! Thank you for reading and following my blog. Should you wish to use any of my articles for research, lectures, personal use, etc.,.. kindly address your message to: modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com. Copying any of my articles without written permission is an infringement of Copyright.

If I Wasn't Me ( A Poem)

If I wasn't me 

I wouldn't be born a Gambian writer on 7 January 1990 

In Bakau Newtown, The Gambia, West Africa

In a religious family of multiple scribes and Islamic scholars

My blood is from Prophet Isa ( Jesus) 

And the Prophet Muhammad (S.A. W).

If I wasn't me, I wouldn't have cried nights full of me on a faithful Friday

Waking up on Saturday morning

Hearing my mother talking to my dad Thinking about the name I was going to be given.

But most people don't want to be part of the process, they just want to be part of the outcome. 

But the process is where you figure out who's worth being part of the outcome. 

Seven days before my birth, I saw all the humans and inhumans who were going to be my enemies. 

I seen days of insanity 

Seeing enemies I recognize inside my mother's womb

Sweeping the hardest parts of my struggles; 

From hatred to accusations, 

All the food I ate served as my tears 

Even gold couldn't convert my fears.

 

If I wasn't me, I wouldn't drink blood inside my mother's womb 

From avengers to revengers amongst mankind and the jinns

Congregating to pay every debt of self-defeat they had lost to my grandfather

Everyone knows bout my greatness from kismet to dissipation 

But their hatred gives me constant constipation

I know Christians without beads and Muslims who don't read the Qur'an,

I read the devil's bible

And I'm off the rifle 

Bcos when I was two years old,

I met the antichrist at the age of 14

I recognized him and know he is a world leader 

A ruler who is glorified in the West;

A handsome public speaker and a former president.

If I wasn't me, I wouldn't have rejected my nationality of being Gambian to

Speaking to reporters in India,

But nothing is perfect that's why I made the difference.

Bring back Jesus, I'm the prove

Like a food in a stove, 

I planted myself a great destiny from my hard work

Like a newly wedded bride caught cheating with a gateman, 

I rejected my namesake's name for my name instead 

I'm not my namesake because I renamed myself 

Classified my ISBN and put me in a shelve

I'm Modou not Momodou 

I was born to carry the whole of mankind up there in the sky

At the age of 7, living a life that is so hard...

I recognized all the snakes and reptiles present at my naming ceremony 

I got aunties from the marine kingdom and uncles from the evil world 

But my grandmother never fed on evil.

If blood, I drink it,

If money, I make it

I don't care it is clean or not, I just take it. 

I'm not a wizard, I'm a jinn. 

I feel like I'm half human and half inhuman for us humans 

The daytime is my night and the night is my daytime 

I'm usually dark in the light and light in the dark

I'm darker than the Kaaba at Mecca

And harder than the pyramid in Egypt.

 

If I wasn't me,  I wouldn't see two witches eating my flesh at night 

Addicted to writing and hate love without marriage 

Hesitation made me feel like a lie in the middle of a gossip 

I knew the Quran at heart and became the heart of the truth

The bible is inscribed on my chest;

 If we'll fight, let's fight,

I've been waiting for death for so long 

With great aplomb.

I'm born to identify the Dajjal 

To become a disciple to Jesus and a viceroy to God.

If God has three letters, why not man?

From canterbury, nativity, and credulity,

I'm captivated by my innermost being.

Let me sell you mirages from the sun

Let's say Jesus will soon come.

I knew I was going to be called Modou Lamin Age-Almusaf Sowe 

Bcos Almosaf is the guardian of the qur'an and a religious reformer. 

My name attracted so many liars with some and informers 

From the olding generations to the newcomers,

I'm enslaved in England and remarried the queen.

If I wasn't me, I wouldn't see the antichrist since I was young bcos 

Not all cars are taxis' 

I ain't gotta to tell you Chinua Achebe didn't just rose to fame like that

If you want to be great, you have to worship the spirits

If you ain't part of the secret, they say, "don't trespass the Secret Society"

Every letter entering into the statehouse must bear the writing "His Excellency"

I don't need cameras to appear on TV

Everything I touch turn to gold

Ask a golddigger 

My wife is so cool like a cold dinner

The truth doesn't have to smell sugar and salt to be accepted 

I'm better than your favourite author 

Don't make me urine on you

I'm addicted to doing evil

I'm a photo lamp in a photograph 

Even if I were to sell my soul, nobody can buy it.

Put my picture in your magazine 

I did so many good things but every Gambian hates me like Yahya Jammeh.

Let's play with ambers of fireballs 

From Wordsworth to Shakespeare, I'm read everywhere, what y'all talking bout?

Go drink ibuprofen 

Add me to the dictionary 

Or add the words I invented;

I can vividly remember meeting Satan.

My special wishes to you! To schedule or book me for public lectures/ book launches/ conferences/ readings/ scriptwriting/ keynote/motivational speaking events, please email: modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com © All Rights Reserved! Thank you for reading and following my blog. Should you wish to use any of my articles for research, lectures, personal use, etc.,.. kindly address your message to: modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com. Copying any of my articles without written permission is an infringement of Copyright.

How To Borrow From God

 

 

 Written by award winning Gambian author, Modou Lamin Age-Almusaf Sowe

Imagine living in a world where money is God, winning is vital, and people must keep the title, and perhaps, with a global president called Michael. If money, they say, is the god of women, what is the god of men? The most expensive bank in the world is not Barclays or the Industrial & Commercial Bank of China Limited, but it is the bank of poverty of imagination locked in actual self-doubt and prejudice. The reason why we could not still overcome the global financial crisis -- is not because there is not much money in the world-- or there are not enough papers to print enough money to feed every country-- but is it the belief of power and position as merchants of superiority.

 

The belief is that war, nuclear weapons, and ammunition are means of governance in a world where everyone can borrow money from God. Too powerful -- too economic-- too brave, and just too wealthy to be too much belittled. In tandem with this unacceptable fact, our suffering is preceded by a corrosive lack of global unity in terms of financial differences to remedy the crisis. In the words of  American rapper, Tupac Shakur, ''Instead of war on poverty, we gotta war on drugs and the police can't bother me.''

 

One of the problems confronting the world is the gradual but steady religious erosion that can be noted from one continent to another. People becoming rather too nonreligious to belong to the religion of money. Climate change is not the changing of the climate, but it is the changing of people to learn not to unlearn what they must not resist. People cause climate change and the change is constant. Religion has become less religious as economic hardship hits the globe persistently. Poverty has been understood as a man-made illness that has a cure -- money. Poverty is not poor--but poor people are poor. The language of humanity is human. Do you know the sounds and letters of humanity to be able to borrow money from God?

 

How to borrow money from God? Let's assume that the year is 2065 and the world no longer uses i-phones but people are using mind-phones. Technology has advanced so much that people use TV cell phones and no longer have time for flat TV sets and watching TVs. Robots are actively roaming the world with aliens accompanying them. Money is gathering all evil people up there in the skies by giving them positions to govern alibi. Let's say that the best way to borrow money from God is not to borrow money from Satan. But in 2065, nobody will be poor unless you want to.

                                                                                                                    

As a librarian, let me quickly tell you that the advancement of technology is also the decline of African culture and civilization. In the year aforementioned, Africans will need an app on their phone that reminds them how to perform ablution in Islam or how to fast regularly in Christianity. In Africa, a child which is not wild is not from his father's lineage, but how about not knowing his heritage? That too has a price.

 

African traditions and values are gradually becoming a thing of the past as there are several influences from other cultures to adopt what is referred to as a more ‘open-minded’ culture of freedom without restrictions. Just one word -- money. One of the ingredients that perhaps act as a catalyst is the prevailing cultural stereotype where some cultures are viewed through the lenses of negativity and inferiority. This leads to the abandonment of those cultures by the newer generation who are supposed to ensure its longevity. Since the start of the 21st century, humanity has faced at least three global crises. The first crisis pertains to the 9/11 terror attacks in the US that facilitated the US-led war on terrorism, which in turn, facilitated the expansion of state surveillance systems, widespread extrajudicial killings, and the prevalent use of torture and other abusive state actions.

 

The second crisis, meanwhile, refers to the 2007–2008 global financial crisis that was considered at the time the worst economic crisis since the Great Depression in the 1930s.

 

At present, we fight for survival against the threat posed by the COVID-19 global pandemic. This third crisis forced governments to impose forms of lockdown and quarantine, shutting down schools, universities, restaurants, cultural centers, and other organizations to slow down the viral infection rate. But of course, according to the English language, the invasion of Iraq, Afghanistan, Libya, Syria, Iran, Palestine, Israel, the Ethiopian crisis, the Rwanda Genocide, and even the current Ukraine crisis are not crises.  Truth be told-- even slavery is not considered a humanitarian crisis. What happens when the rich fight with the rich? The prices of commodities rise, not so? The poor get poorer-- and the rich becomes worried.

 

Confronted by these challenges, I am still asking how to borrow money from God? As alluded to by my colleague, the famous Nigerian author, Anthony Onugba, cultural erosion is dependent on cultural stereotypes.  Therefore, one way to borrow money from God is to borrow a chapter from the scriptures because even the devil reads the Bible. Should the world expect assistant Jesus just in case?

 

I would like to conclude with the Swahili saying that goes, “ukiona mwenzio ananyolewa zako tia maji”. Difficult to understand but it means, “if you see your neighbor's house on fire standby with water to put yours out in case it spreads.''

 

As a child and an adult, most of my life has been spent in Africa, and for nearly a decade, much of my literary production has focused on my interaction with the environment. Drawing on long-term ethnographic research and intellectual honesty, I would like to provide you with a critical analysis of peoples' ability to be able to borrow money from God. Yes, it does exist. Nelson Mandela said, and I quote ‘’ if a nation wants development, the youths must be educated.’’ The wealth of every nation is the youth. A country is only poor without a youthful population.

 

Permit me to borrow a quote from Albert Einstein who said "those who have the privilege to know, have the duty to act. To you, my readers, it is now your sacred duty to do the rest, either to succeed or fail, to benefit society or benefit oneself. Alan Saporta said, and I quote “the best way to escape from a problem is to solve it." Let me say any national problem which is not solved, is still a problem for its people. Freedom is so very nice and can even turn mice into a goat, but let us remember a quote from Martin Luther King, Jr, which reads "let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup." The only key to freedom is money. If money was the vehicle during the slave trade, humanity will legalize slavery.

 

Let me put it in the French adjectival and adverbial funnel of interpretation to defile the youth of your happiness for yet imagining the goal of my meditation. ‘Qui- who, Quand-when, and Comment--how and when do you borrow money from God? I would like to end with some words from Bessie Head, a South African writer who lived most of her life in Botswana. When she was asked the question WHY DO YOU WRITE? Her response was this: ''I am building a stairway to the stars. I have the authority to take the whole of mankind up there with me. That is why I write.''

 

Something tells me that a generation of new ideas and talent is about to change the world.

 

My special wishes to you! To schedule or book me for public lectures/ book launches/ conferences/ readings/ script-writing/ keynote/motivational speaking events, please email: 

modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com

© MODOU LAMIN AGE-ALMUSAF 2022 All Rights Reserved! 

Thank you for reading and following my blog. Should you wish to use any of my articles for research, lectures, personal use, etc., kindly address your message to: modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com. Copying any of my articles without written permission is an infringement of Copyright.

Should We Fall In Love? (Poem)

PS. This picture is subjected to copyright.

Should we fall in love?

Or should we just laugh like, lol?

The very first day I came into existence

Your love was planted in me

And I grew up searching for you;

I met many ladies without having babies

Names like Stacey, Whiskey and Tracy; all did break my heart and made me crazy.

It was you I didn’t meet...

 

The appearance of your name on my phone,

To the sound of your voice,

Down to your smile and laughter,

Gives me great joy beyond any imagination.

The first time you texted me, I knew it was you.

But yet, we are still in limbo, afraid of what we feel.

I feel what you felt, like an undiscovered Celt, I melt. I am melting for you. 

It's your food I want to belch.

I want to put words into your mouth:

Should fall in love this month?

Why do I feel so strange after reading that text?

Your laughter is contagious and warms every corner of my soul.

Why do I feel so connected after looking at your pictures?

I try and shake it, but you already have a hold on my heart.

It is magical and soothing transporting me to a place I have never been.

I don't dare like you, I'm a dare for you.

Fresh off the bed, sharper than Gillette

The shower still wet, so pass it like 'Chui Boulet'

We sip side of text messages, we call it cuddle and pet,

You are my chosen bride to beset,

My only honey to cuddle and pet,

I'm hotter than the end of August;

I'm awesome, repeat it to your grandma, and uncles

Or friends, ML is a husband.

The sight of you

Holding your hands

Walking beside you — oh Lord

I can’t even put into words how it makes me feel

I heard people talk about love at first sight

Some saying it romantically for a guy or lady

Others for their spouses

And very few for their acquaintances

But I was so sure I found love in your sight

My senses of sight, smell, touch & hearing

Are all yours.

The wide smile on your face when I giggle

Oh Lord — praise be to God, amen, hallelujah.

I will trade everything and anything for

Being held by you became my priority

As the energy that radiates from you to me

To learn how to love like you should love me

And express the love I hold within me like you do.

How can I ever see love in someone else

Lost in a gaze pure to our soul

And your warmth wrapping me in your safety

I can make you the daughter your mom never hear from

Because your love can make me throw stones at the Statehouse

Should we fall in love?

My special wishes to you! To schedule or book me for public lectures/ book launches/ conferences/ readings/ scriptwriting/ keynote/motivational speaking events, please email: modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com 

 © All Rights Reserved! Thank you for reading and following my blog. Should you wish to use any of my articles for research, lectures, personal use, etc.,.. kindly address your message to: modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com. 

Copying any of my articles without written permission is an infringement of Copyright.

Writing and Covid-19: Books are Essential in Times of Crisis

The COVID-19 pandemic is the most unprecedented story for authors across the world. If Covid was human, vaccines were plots, and lockdowns were characters, the pandemic is the most intriguing story to be ever written in books because it has not only a direct impact on the daily and private lives, health and the ways people interact – but also on the working situation of authors and writers in the literary sector. 

In Africa, particularly West Africa, many authors encountered economic fall-out, loss of fees and lack of needed exposure. While Nigeria still remains Africa's most vibrant literary hub, authors were seriously affected during the COVID-19 pandemic by working from home and faced inaccessibility to research facilities. 

Prof. Chinedum Igwe, Executive Director, International Association of African Authors and Scholars (IAAAS), Atlanta, USA 

 “From an author point of view, it is probably one of the biggest pandemics in human history,” says Prof. Chinedum Igwe, Executive Director, International Association of African Authors and Scholars (IAAAS), Atlanta, Georgia, USA. 

The African book industry will have to deal with a great shift, after more and more bookshops had been closed and some of them never even opened again, the publishing houses postponed or canceled titles. Several cultural institutions – libraries, theaters, small sized event organizers – also have to deal with losses, will close or lower the budget in general for cultural events. 

 

In countries like The Gambia with a very low literacy rate and poor readership, authors suffered great financial losses due to cancellation of events and having low sales of their books. 

There was no book launch for nearly one year and events, readings (especially in schools, libraries, cultural institutions and bookshops), award ceremonies, book fairs, workshops, lectures and residency-scholarships were canceled. The situation quickly threatened the existence of many writers and authors.  

While many authors work from home during the pandemic, many have no other choice but to publish articles in local newspapers. In The Gambia, the local newspapers, notably The Standard Newspaper, Foroyaa Newspaper, The Voice Newspaper and The Point have published dozens of articles from authors during lockdowns. Many of them believe that COVID-19 has made literary strikes to compel them into writing new books during lockdowns. 

Lamin B. Fatty, Gambian Author 

“I have not written a new book since the lockdown. A writer’s job is of course to write what makes the stories of human life, and to do so, you have to keep writing,” explains Lamin B. Fatty, a young Gambian author. 

For Ms. AZEB YOSEPH AMBACHEW, the Founder and Executive Director of ONE AFRICA PEN WARRIORS FOR DEVELOPMENT ORGANIZATION (OAPWOD), an organization established in December 2019, Covid-19 has mostly affected women writers in Ethiopia. The organization is dealing with African history, culture, indigenous languages, democracy, unity and Identity. It strongly opposes migration. This organization has a plan to discuss the root causes of migration and how to especially save Africa’s youthful population to stop thinking about migration. 

  

Azeb Yoseph Ambachew, Executive Director, One Africa Pen Warriors Organization for Development (OAPWOD), Addis Ababa, Ethiopia 

“When we are talking about the impacts of COVID -19, we should remember that it has created major economic crises on our industrial and agricultural activities. If I am not mistaken, COVID-19 hit Ethiopia on the 13th of March 2020 while the executive and regular members of my organization started working on promoting its vision and mission in a very organized way,’’ says Azeb Yoseph Ambachew.  The diversity of books and culture is in real danger because of the COVID-19 effects on the economy. 

The COVID-19 pandemic affected the African writing workforce in many ways. Many worried that stay-at-home grants would proportionately enhance the productivity and well-being of African writers, including women and early-career authors, who were expected to shoulder more on writers residencies and or grants. However, West African writers are still yet to adequately address the development and technology behind the different vaccines that have been released and that are being created. They are yet to also address the acquisition and distribution of vaccines globally, including “vaccine nationalism” and questions of equity.  Award-winning Gambian author, Modou Lamin Age-Almusaf Sowe, is trying to show how the vaccine hesitancy and anti-vaccination activism, as well as misinformation and disinformation against vaccines  immunity, community masking and social distancing measures, as well as emerging variants are issues in West Africa.  

 

My special wishes to you! To schedule or book me for public lectures/ book launches/ conferences/ readings/ scriptwriting/ keynote/motivational speaking events, please email: modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com

 © All Rights Reserved! Thank you for reading and following my blog. Should you wish to use any of my articles for research, lectures, personal use, etc.,.. kindly address your message to: modoulaminsowe1@hotmail.com. 

Copying any of my articles without written permission is an infringement of Copyright.