I am in love with Matilda


I saw her look for solace in her lonely self; she had been sobbing for a while. Her pillow flooding in tears; the rage in her beautiful teary eyes was unmatched. She spoke with a soft devastated tone and so evident were rills of anguish through the venae cavae of her soft loving heart. She was now a shadow of the strong revered Matilda we had all known two decades ago since our early schooldays...

PoetryBits: Strange place to find love


The Princess Behind The Door I was hurt so many times I lost count. My heart was ripped out of my chest and stepped over by a rapid stampede of heart breaks and broken promises. Like a hopeless knight amidst the stinking flames of battle, giving up was no longer a luxury I could afford.  With the little energy I had left, I shamefully looked back, dropped my arsenal, and took to my heels. All I...

Why mothers smile during birth while the baby cries


These are, indeed, some of the things that keep me awake in the night. My brain tries with tremendous efforts, to contemplate their implications and critically internalize their impact on the world today. The concept of pain. We feel it, we loath it, but yet it stays. I can’t stop but wonder, why do we love pain very much?  It’s amazing how  people deliberately set themselves up to be...

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Contact the lead Editor, Kiberu Sharif by phone on +256 703 702 193 or by email address on sharif@talesfromkampala.com