Marginalization Stories

Kevin Griffin is a lonely errand boy working for a powerful drug lord in a lethal underworld. He suffers severely from depression and anger as a biracial teenager with an incarcerated black father and an alcoholic white mother. With a cold-blooded mind, Kevin carries a switchblade knife as he collects debts from gamblers and drug buyers all over Massachusetts by boarding the Commuter Rail to complete his assignments.

An acid attack victim drenches into the pits of despair and there is no way out for her. Based on a true tragedy.

Johannesburg. Jozi. Egoli. The city of a thousand names embodies a city of contrasts, where the past resonates in every cobbled street and the future shines in the skyscrapers that touch the sky. At the intersection of history and innovation, Johannesburg is much more than a metropolis: it is a crossroads of cultures, hopes and struggles. This collection of short stories delves into the heart of its neighborhoods, from the bustling markets of Soweto to the hushed corners of Sandton, to the forgotten mines that lie beneath its foundations. Each story reveals a unique face, a voice that reflects the soul of a city that is tirelessly alive.

A story about a mother's love.

I'm sure the title is already raising a few brows, if not offending some people. I'd like to make a disclaimer though: I don't think that all men are bad. In fact, I have many good friends who are of the masculine persuasion. However, I think that male entitlement and the subsequent marginalization of women is a huge problem, and I wanted to write something on the issue from my perspective as a woman. Please understand that I do not know all the facts - many of the things I'll be discussing are the result of weeks of research, and I know that there might be some things that I have misunderstood or misconstrued. Please, feel free to give constructive criticism on my essay, but take note that I will not be tolerating comments with hateful and hurtful sentiments without proper reasoning. - Coffee Cover photo (c) frankie cordoba on Unsplash

This poem is about the struggle of being seen and heard in a world that pretends to understand. It questions false friendship, privilege, and the idea of equality that never truly exists. It explores what it feels like to live under constant judgment and silence. The poem also looks at the performative allyship of the so-called savarna, the privileged upper class whose support often feels pretentious rather than genuine. It speaks from the margins, asking not for sympathy, but for understanding.