Best from the Qwani anthologies
An Ode to Bathroom Sinkholes and Scalding Afternoon Sun by Natasha W. Muhanji
I chuckle at my train of thought, perhaps I should be a writer instead of a painter. I sigh again and hang up my face towel to dry.
Contributer
The Editors
Best from the Qwani anthologies
The Last Days of My Grandmother by Yvonne Mwangi
In those days when we would dip our feet in hot water before sunset and I would take the small bed close to the window of her small hut. She made me believe that the night was not just a mere form of darkness but something eviler. Often talking about ogres and creatures with murky stares.
Best from the Qwani anthologies
Escaping Manyani by Kimemia Macharia
When the coast was clear, we sneaked in a semi-crouched manner and veered to the left. We were trying to avoid being in the glare of the searchlights so we hid behind a toilet shack that the guards would use.
Best from the Qwani anthologies
Msiba by Byron Apuko
The last day you see her alive, she throws her arms around you, lifts you up, then squeezes so hard. It’s painful, but you love it.
Best from the Qwani anthologies
My feet are killing me by Lydia Mutuku
Would you look at that? I am levitating in space. This, this is a vessel. I am a vessel; I am a ship, and within me is a crew. A classic Captain of the Caribbean’s Black Pearl floating in an empty jar, oblivious to the entirety of the real world; the real true world. Who is my captain?
Best from the Qwani anthologies
Passengers by Drew Gachagua
I miss evening drives, with Classic 105 playing.
Best from the Qwani anthologies
Technically, throughout a year by Sheila Ngei
I’m not too young to love anonymously,
Best from the Qwani anthologies
No promises in Nairobi by Polycarp Sakwa
I’ve been on this spot near the statue of the late Kenyan icon Tom Mboya for two years now. The pavement knows my shape the way a bed remembers the body that sleeps on it. I know the rhythm of the street like an amapiano song whose lyrics play hide-and-seek game in mind.
Interviews
Therapy Sessions: A Conversation With Amanda Nechesa
Amanda Nechesa is a Nairobi-based writer, poet, and feminist practitioner who uses literature and digital storytelling as tools for social transformation. Through her work, she seeks to amplify art and culture, challenge inequities, and explore the vulnerability of the human condition. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Brittle Paper, The Feminist Magazine, Isele Magazine,, Efiko Magazine, Kalahari Review, Lolwe, The Elephant, Voices Of The Revolution poetry anthology, and the first, second, and fourth editions of Qwani anthologies; among others. She is also the author of How To Make This Boy Go Home With Me (Qwani, 2025).
Best from the Qwani anthologies
Siku Nilalala Ndani by Keith Ang’ana
So by the time nimemaliza kupiga tour ya cell, ni kama saa moja usiku ilikuwa imefika. Nikama io masaa huwa prime time; si ya news pekee, lakini pia ya kurusha watu ndani.
Best from the Qwani anthologies
Soul of the City by Lawie Metto
The city awakes and converges, at first light, it does. In a matatu, there is a symbolic meeting of all the peoples of the city, in separate groups and similar forms. From all walks of life and all drives of its environs.
Best from the Qwani anthologies
Aluta Continua by Kingsley Taabu
We know what they do. Every Friday, though, we will meet them at the mosque, in their white kanzus. And later? They will be at our houses, looking for wives. Who will marry such men?
Interviews
Lyric Poetry: a Conversation with Anna Zgambo
Anna Zgambo is pursuing a PhD in literature at the University of Zambia with a focus on lyric poetry. She serves as a poetry reader at Harbor Review Magazine and Fahmidan Journal while reading prose at CRAFT Literary. Anna is a Mawazo Fellow and Idembeka Creative Writing Fellow. Her most recent poems appear in Ubwali Literary Magazine, The Journal of African Youth Literature, Up the Staircase Quarterly, The Weganda Review, Midway Journal, Bluestem Magazine, and elsewhere. Read Anna's poems here: www.annazgambo.com/poems
Best from the Qwani anthologies
The One with Nairobi’s Seven Deadly Sins by Wairimu Kagichu
Nairobi. A cacophony of matatu hoots and booming bongs from church bells. All in inexplicable harmony. Like a Beethoven piece.
Best from the Qwani anthologies
Kichwa mbaya vs Karen Smith by MK
First of fuk your SDGs and the missions you claim. Nairobi, when we ride, you come equipped with cams You claim to be a saviour, but you lied with my life
Best from the Qwani anthologies
Defiance by Njoki Ng'ang'a
It's a matrix, And we are all little lab rats, Walking mazes or running wheels.
Interviews
Female Poets Kenya, a conversation with Wangui Kimani
Wangui Kimani is a multi-award-winning poet, writer, and eco-artist whose artistry bridges activism, culture, and climate justice. As co-founder of Female Poets Kenya, she uses poetry to amplify women’s voices, preserve African traditions, and champion social change.
Best from the Qwani anthologies
Death Walk by Joseph Kambai
I went for a death walk today. The walk that you’d take when you know you’ll finally die at the end of it. More like my last wish before I die; a walk. A long walk looking at the sun stride across the sky to the horizon.
Interviews
Art In Multiple Forms : A Conversation With Natasha W. Muhanji
Natasha W. Muhanji is a Kenyan writer, editor, and cultural worker. Her work moves across fiction, creative nonfiction, and poetry, shaped by everyday encounters.
Best from the Qwani anthologies
To the market? by Natasha W. Muhanji
“Hey! You right there! Yes! You! What colour does blood turn to when it rots?” I still remember the slow movement of my eyebrow and how high I cocked it at his unusual question almost a decade later. That had been the most unexpected question I had gotten sent my way ever since someone in town had asked me to sell them my stool for five hundred shillings.
Best from the Qwani anthologies
Clouds by Ryan Kiruri
People are like clouds...
Best from the Qwani anthologies
Nairratives Gone Bad by Otieno Arudo
Now, no infrastructure project in Nairobi is complete without that iconic image of a politician — preferably in white gloves cutting a ribbon with scissors so big they could perform surgery on a zebra. Whether or not the project is usable is secondary. What matters is the optics of delivery. You may not drive on the bridge, but have you seen the drone shots?
Best from the Qwani anthologies
Chips za Sonford by Gathoni Kihumba
This isn’t a love story but a story about love. The first time we met, was on a Thursday afternoon. I don't remember what you wore, what I was wearing, or how we both found ourselves outside the renovated Sonford in town, the only place you swore to have been eating from mid-errands. It was as hot as Nairobi gets, and I remember you watching me fumble
Best from the Qwani anthologies
Erotic Sentience by Anisa of the Sunflowers
I take a deep breath and look up at the lanky reporter seated in front of me. His eyes are very eager to listen and to unravel me, I can tell, such hungry eyes have devoured me for ages.
Best from the Qwani anthologies
If you’re reading this, it’s too late by Muthoni Kinyanjui
the wave function: a particle in an indeterminate state can be brought into a definite one by interacting with something in its environment. like an observer , it would be prettier to think of us as entangled particles.
Best from the Qwani anthologies
Between crosses and crescents by Barnice Agenyo
6:18 a.m. and Nairobi is serving Siberia realness. The trench coat on my back is just for show: thin, cheap, performative, just like people, just like hope, just like me, the previous night faking my moans. All I can do is hope the weather doesn’t pull a fast one and turn me into an undertaker in the afternoon sun.
Best from the Qwani anthologies
Africana: Fingertips On Naked Skin. A Love Letter To African Adolescence by Anisa Of The Sunflowers
A lover I was, clinging onto the sight of her almost throwing myself through... Gasping for air while I gulped down all the bits of her that I could.
Best from the Qwani anthologies
How to sneak into concerts by Keith Ang’ana
How you dress at a concert is very crucial, not only to yourself and all potentials whom you hope to attract, but also to your chances of sneaking in. One thing is for sure: Despite what the famous adage says, everyone actually judges a book by the cover. That’s why ‘hardcover’ books are more expensive than ‘paperback’ books. I digress.
Interviews
Qwani, Four Years On: A Conversation with Keith Ang’ana
Keith Ang'ana is a writer, researcher and historian whose work focuses on the intersection between people, cities and the quiet politics of everyday life. He is also the Founder and Executive Director of Qwani.
Best from the Qwani anthologies
Life, a subscription you forgot to cancel by Calvin Ron Ouko
He had a punctured neck, the man in the photo. Clearly photo shopped—poorly. Below it read, “ILANI: MATUMIZI YA TUMBAKU YAUA.” Still, Sam tapped the cigarette against his palm, lit it as the sun rose, and drew a long inhale.
Interviews
Desire Path, a conversation with Migwi Mwangi
Migwi Mwangi is a storyteller from Nairobi. His debut collection, Desire Path (University of Pittsburgh Press), is forthcoming in September 2026.
Best from the Qwani anthologies
Diaries of a strong boy by Lewis-Miller Kaphira
Picture this; it’s on a moody Monday morning and your friend Maish woke up so sickly that he couldn’t go to work. So he let you borrow his nduthi so you could go make some few coins ferrying passengers around Umo then give him his cut at the end of the day.
Best from the Qwani anthologies
Where the lie lies by Nyamani Marwa Matiko
You start thinking that maybe it is time you started going to church again. This time round, at least you have some knowledge of things that most never talk about concerning the spiritual. You realise that a lot of it is in the grey areas.
Best from the Qwani anthologies
One Week Later by Mwangi Murimi
She sat down on a stool and absorbed it all. For the first time since it happened, she was completely alone.
Best from the Qwani anthologies
Take me to mass and show me where the incense is by Amanda Nechesa
I have recently taken up going to church regularly. It’s a habit that has developed gradually, and in relation to this habit, I have also started listening to gospel music every morning and praying after reading a bible verse every night before I sleep.
Best from the Qwani anthologies
Ache by Grace Jazmin Asiroh
Often I am tempted to write of the love I crave so deeply
Best from the Qwani anthologies
A day in my life as a nganya conductor by Rochelle Juma
Ama niite Jonte anishikie hii squad ya kwanza nilale kidogo? I think to myself. But JJ won’t let that slide—our morning clients don’t recognize Jonte, even though he’s worked with me a couple of times.
Interviews
Tracing the Faulty Line: A Conversation with Felix Odhiambo
Felix Odhiambo is a filmmaker and documentary photographer driven by a passion for wildlife conservation. His current focus is on bridging the gap between people and the natural world through compelling visual storytelling.
Our CommunityJoin Our
Join Our
Community
Step into Qwani's vibrant circle of creatives. Here, every voice matters, every story thrives, and camaraderie blooms. Become a part of our literary mosaic today.
Stories have the power to bring us together like nothing else can.
Qwani
Our StoryWatch Our
Watch Our
Story Unfold
A glimpse into the world of Qwani — the people, the passion, and the purpose behind every word we publish.
© 2025 Qwani. All rights reserved. Designed by Qwani. Powered by Chari Designs