It is with great pleasure I present to you the first issue of our biannual chapbook, Wind & Water.
This year—amongst other things—brings forth a body of art that upholds truth, voice, and commonality.
Truth is sacrosanct. No matter how you try, you cannot disprove it. You cannot water it down with facile remarks. Its stay is endless. Most importantly, you cannot ignore the truth; you cannot silence the voices in which it rests within.
We all have a voice that surpasses speech and sound. The voices that form this book are no different. They ply through every nook and cranny transforming, transmuting, educating, looking for ways to spread until it evokes other voices into an endless loop. Until it says: “Hear me, I cannot be ignored.”
Similarly, these voices stand firm, resolutely without a flinch; they do not possess a compulsion to flatter, they inform the reader. As Meg Rosoff invokes, “Your writing voice is the deepest possible reflection of who you are.” It is what we are and how we see things. Lending our voices to question Rape and Racism compulsively lays in the artist’s heart.
We ask ourselves why these atrocities exist. We continuously question why the ability to justify these atrocities with private, public and even unconscious biases thrive. Last year made us realise that Africa suffers from a rape pandemic and that the colour black still fights for its humanity. With this, we aim to communicate and converse. To confer to the reader the meaning of our words – that indeed these atrocities exist and cause so much harm.
That is why this chapbook necessitates the passage of a message. And it is in language, the way we express our thoughts, that we find these messages. Troy Onyango, Editor of Lolwe said: “When we share a language, when we are able to find some commonality, great things happen.” For us, it revs our spirits to have artists share common beliefs. Each submission relishes a different approach to addressing both issues; they do it not for validation, they do it as a means of expression; the true act of social justice.
Wind & Water draws strength from its natural elements, “Wind” and “Water”. They are different yet akin to each other. They work in synchrony. When the wind rages, the water wrests itself. When the water rages, the wind bellows. And I see these as acts of truth-telling. So, what is truth, if there are no voices? What is truth, if no individuals threaten to break free of the silence we find ourselves in?
Our truths, our voices, our commonalities serve as the stilts we need to elevate society.