November 24, 2021

An Excerpt and News from Mbizo Chirasha

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An Excerpt and News from Mbizo Chirasha

Editor’s Note: Mbizo Chirasha is The Fictional Café’s Poet-in-Residence. We have featured his work for two years now and are closing in on the end of his term. You may have noticed that we have featured less of his work this year, which, we are sad to say, is because Mbizo has been fleeing his home in Zimbabwe and trying to find asylum in another country. Due to his criticism of African politics and corruption in his writing, he has frequently been a target of violence from his government. We have partnered with a few organizations to help him find a safe place to live and write, but he continues to meet challenges. Mbizo has recently published a new book, which we announced earlier this year. Here is an excerpt from his book, called, “Along…

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June 18, 2021

Juneteenth: A Day of Remembrance and Celebration

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Juneteenth: A Day of Remembrance and Celebration

Editor’s Note: Black lives matter. Creative lives matter. We’re very fortunate to see both embodied in The Fictional Café’s Residency program. In both instances, these are word-artists who had already discovered The Fictional Café and been published here. Mbizo Chirasha was asked to become our Poet-in-Residence because of the powerful messages of freedom from oppression and tyranny in his poetry. We are saddened to learn that he remains in exile, now for four long years, in large part because of his book of poetry, A Letter to the President, which drew the ire of the dictatorship in Mbizo’s native country. Against powerfully thwarting odds, we’re trying to help. Derrick R. Lafayette is, with pun intended, our Black Knight of fiction. His fierce, compelling stories captivated us from his first submission. His strong advocacy for our…

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May 4, 2021

“Pilgrims of Zame,” by Mbizo Chirasha Now Available!

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“Pilgrims of Zame,” by Mbizo Chirasha Now Available!

Pilgrims of Zame, a collection of hybrid narratives by poet Mbizo Chirasha, is a visceral assault a of images, sounds, and evocative experiences that transport readers from the hills and mountains of Zimbabwean villages, to sordid cities filled with violence and poverty, and into the minds, hearts, and lives of an entire people. Chirasha captures the raw emotions of culture and conflict and presents them through his uniquely vibrant poetic style. Through alliterative prose and free verse poetry, Chirasha explores both the roots of his culture and its path into the future. Mbizo Chirasha is the current Poet-in-Residence at The Fictional Café and author of A Letter to the President (Zimbabwe). He has co-authored several titles including The Little Voice, Metaphors of the Rainbow, and Whispering Woes of Ganges and Zambezi. Pilgrims of Zame may…

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January 28, 2021

Mbizo Chirasha – My First Year as Poet-in-Residence

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Mbizo Chirasha – My First Year as Poet-in-Residence

Time has legs: it walks and of course it runs. Somewhere in the cybernetic land of the brave, America, a trailblazing coffee shop is situated, born from assortments of poetry biscuits, flash fiction soups that wink likea jolt of rainforest lightning. The Fictional Café, a buffet of literary commentary and steaming cups of cappuccinos,the sweet aroma of words waft through its glowing virtual walls,  beckoning and satiating all sure creatives.Inside the Café, you are welcomed by a band of poetry baristas. I joined the Fictional Café as the Poet in Residence and the greatest blessing is a myriad of my experimental writings have been serialized, featured, and published within its digital pages.  Jack B. Rochester and your team of literary champions:I salute you for the Poet in Residence position and for your confident investmentin my writings and mutual collaborative efforts.  ***…

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December 29, 2020

“Prince of Satan,” A Short Story by Mbizo Chirasha

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“Prince of Satan,” A Short Story by Mbizo Chirasha

A solitary baboon barked throughout the night. The barking sound was the stitch between silence and darkness. Dogs never barked to anything. Owls were ironically trapped in their dark nests. Dawn arrived unexpectedly. My father coughed from the pit of his lungs. My skin tightened because his cough was deep. His incessant loud snores disturbed the silence. Fingers of the sun soon filtered into my torn blanket. Intense heat pricked my whip-lashed back. I felt an irritating pain inside me. I sneaked out of my night trap with a bold start and peeped into the real world through the crevices of my rondavel. I couldn’t believe my innocent eyes. Just outside, next to river, stray dogs whined and snarled amid a leisurely sexual act. I made an embarrassed laughter. They danced in their act as…

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