A pen and a bowl of ink,Through my hand, my heart drops a hint.The voice in my silence…

I had tasted failure more than the numbers of my age,Failure was the colour of my effort,Dejection became…

Happiness, a state with no defined source.Many say it comes from within, a place with scattered emotions.Many claim…

Every stroke in this letter depicts a drop of tearMy heart searches so bad, but your place is…

There is something deeply raw about the way Oliver Sopulu Odo writes. His words do not attempt to…

Some voices enter a room loudly, demanding attention before a single word is spoken. Others arrive quietly, almost…