Memoir Archives

UBUNTU IS A word that makes me cringe. You might also know it as obuntu or unhu. It comes...

By MK Suubi

MY GRANDFATHER WAS once in jail. As a kid, I’d pronounce this with a little flush of pride. My grandpa!...

By Annie Zaidi

Belo pairap, skul i pinis. Mi harim solwara i bruk long nambis. Mi smelim solwara long win. Mi lap...

THERE COMES A stage in life when one sometimes forgets to celebrate the passing years; truth be told, it’s...

By Margaret Busby

WHEN I LOOK online, I do not find my great-uncle Michael Kanerusine’s name on any of the websites my...

I REMEMBER A severe drought in 1964 when I was a child. First the grass became crisp and brown,...

By Diana McCaulay

I LOVED THE smell of the cotton cloth measured out from bolts that made a soft, slapping sound as...

By Kaiser Haq

If he were allowed contact with foreigners he would discover that they are creatures similar to himself and that...

By Nigel Powell

JEREMY B PULLMAN was a tall, slim man with pale grey eyes and a number-three buzz cut along the...

By Bri Lee

MY CHILDHOOD ENDED when I was ten. It was 21 March 2002. The subdued beauty of an autumn afternoon in...

By Lech Blaine

I FIRST VISITED the Netherlands in 2002, just after the Dutch had kissed goodbye to their beloved guilders and...

By Ben Falkenmire

THE DAY AFTER the news filled with Hilary Clinton’s pneumonia diagnosis, I found the Al-Salaam restaurant closed. I looked...

By David Fettling