Prison narratives are central to tracking modern genealogies of sexuality in Africa.
Watching Pose from Nairobi
mah tongue is in my friend’s mouf —Zora Neale Hurston Soon after I completed high school, I worked at a small nursing home. Every few months, a certain kind of patient would come in: a young man, brought by family, rarely visited, visibly wasting. This was before antiretrovirals. He seemed terribly isolated and resigned. He... Continue Reading →