Pen Avenue Malawi

Pen Avenue Malawi is pleased to announce the names of the judges for the Short Story Writing Competition it hosted for University and College Students in Malawi. The following are the judges: Beaton Galafa He is a Malawian writer and blogger. He blogs  here . He currently works as a tutor at the African Languages and Linguistics Department at the University of Malawi. Beaton writes both fiction and non-fiction. He is the winner of the 2016 Free Expression Institution's Young People for Democracy Essay Writing Competition. In 2014, he was one of the two Malawians who attended the prestigious Commonwealth Creative Non-Fiction Writing Workshop in Kampala, Uganda. His short story, Bullet in the wind , made it into the top 10 of the 2014 Dede Kamkondo Short Story Writing Competition. Dave Mankhokwe Namusanya  He writes fiction, non-fiction and poetry. His works have been published in local newspapers and are a part of the current Junior Secondary School Literature i

Pen Avenue Malawi is pleased to announce the opening of its first ever writing competition for young Malawians currently studying for their first degrees, diplomas or certificates in Universities and Colleges across Malawi. The competition is aimed at identifying and nurturing writing talent in the country. In this first phase, the competition will only accept entries from University and College students based in Malawi. The genre is only fiction, that is, the Short Story. Details of the competition are indicated below: Prizes The best short story will go away with a cash prize of K100,000 and a six month mentorship opportunity with an established writer (to be disclosed in due course) Four other good stories will have its authors afforded a mentorship opportunity in which their works will be critiqued by a team of passionate and committed young writers and critics  Rules for the competition:  Entries (Short stories only) must be on any theme, between 1500-4000

By  Tiya Kapalamula The rain brings with it a solitude That only lovers comprehend No spying eyes Not even the ever prying gaze of the lofty sun Every rain drop, a scampering witness Too shy to tell the tale of the lovers' embrace - Pouring - It clears out all trace of love's presence No reminder of love's kiss That we were here, nobody knows But the rain that's gone They are clay molds Are they not? These mortals They hide from these beautiful raindrops  that call us out The raindrops that animate the immortal; They that love: you and I In this moment, Not a soul lives but you and I. Elated! We are dancing and twirling Underneath this canopy of glistening clear petals The world is ours! Or at least this street For there's no one here But you and me [inspired by a tale of a kiss in the rain] Tiyanjane Kapalamula is a young lady who has always had a passion for words, her passion wa

by Loreen A. Nyambo Like yellow autumn leaves, Dangling on a dancing tree As they watch summer leave, I am on the tree of life, Half dead, half alive, Feeling fragile and kind of dry. Like dry autumn leaves, Clasping onto a raving tree, I'm clutching onto the tree of life With the grip of one hand, Against violent winds And slowly letting free. Like yellow autumn leaves, Those dry autumn leaves Dangling on a dancing tree, Dying as they watch summer leave… I too, know my death is lingering Somewhere in the upcoming winds. Loreen Nyambo (25) is a poet and short story writer ; his thematic interest is a confluence of love, the pursuit of happiness, existentialism and mortality. He was a runner-up winner in a short story competition run by African Book Club in 2014 and he also bagged the award of "Most Imaginative Short Story" in the Malawi Writers' Union (MAWU/FMB) Short Story Competition in the same year. He graduated from Cha

by Hagai Magai Busty alphabet letters Wave from the yellow wall Pale blue waves of innocence See only the green of graveyards Yet In that sea of innocent smiles Lies a gloomy island, drained of life Specks of sadness crown its Earflap Sacred land; the tooth fairy Must have Left no footstep on its lawn; “Mzeru,” I asked you a question: What do you want to be When you are grown up?   (Silence)   Be a good girl Dry your cheeks, you are too big For shedding tears Tell, Sister Sue   (Silence)   Did someone slap you? Eat your apple? Do you have a headache? Do you feel pestles hitting Inside the walls of your head?   (Silence)   Who is scaring you? Whisper it to me Sealed lips Are the devils workshop Talk to me, Or the devil will burn all your toys in hell.” Abandoned acrobatic lego’s Yawn into sleep on a pair of cold arms Eyes behind pale commas of tears See graveyards in anything