Celebrating East African Writing!
February’s writing challenge was definitely something we have never done on the Storymoja Writers’ Blog. As a reader, it has been my pleasure to look in at extensions of worlds I loved when I first read the books some of you used as your back drops in the exercise. As an editor, it has been my pleasure to see your responses to a writing challenge that I wasn’t very sure about, and to note the writing talent that exists out there.
The February Fan Fiction Challenge was a trial of sorts. As announced earlier, DrumbeatsKe will be looking for online content. Drumbeats is Storymoja’s romance Imprint which is available exclusively in digital format. The winning story from the January & February challenges will eventually be published on the Drumbeats online space. Look out for more callouts for romance content. You can follow DrumbeatsKe on Twitter and on Facebook.
For now, I would like to thank all of you who submitted your pieces to the challenge. We received quite a few entries, which is why it took the editors a little longer to sort through them. Not everyone can be a winner, so although we acknowledge and appreciate all of your entries, only 4 of them could make the shortlist.
As is the practice here, the pieces have been published as submitted. Grammatical errors and structural faults are the author’s own and yours to note and comment on if you so choose. Please feel free to comment on the strengths and the weaknesses of the pieces. Critique is highly appreciated by the writers.
The winning story will be announced on Friday.
Love is not Obliged: Among the child-soldiers was a girl named Fati. Like all other girl child-soldiers, Fati was as cruel as the old grigriman priestess back home in Togobala. She smoked too much hash and was always fucked up and would occasionally tell me things I did not understand as she danced a sensual earthy dance with her hands touching her body and her gnousse-gnousse – she was crazy!
The Tree: Fatima pondered over her father’s words; threats of an irate father. He was going to do all in his power to separate her from the one she loved. She wasn’t scared of him. Even the promise that he would denounce her did not faze her. The boy however, wasn’t so willing to go against her father’s wishes.
The Land: “What are you doing on my land?” He barked furiously. She dropped the flowers in her hand and looked up very surprised. And scared. She had no idea whose land it was. The earth was God’s and all land thereof…It’s not like she was stealing, she was just picking pretty flowers.
The Lady: The war had been won. The good guys had won – supposedly good guys. I was disgusted. Disgusted with war, with self and with everything. I had no desire for the things I used to be interested in. The war had seen to that. That dirty war.
Enjoy your reading!