HerStory

HerStory: An African Feminine Archive is not a poetry collection alone. It is an archive, a counter-canon, and a ritual of remembrance. Written by a historian who has spent nearly two decades walking African history-as scholar, teacher, and witness-this book bears luminous testimony to African women across centuries, continents, and memory. From precolonial queens and ritual leaders to enslaved mothers, market organizers, survivors, and contemporary activists, these poems insist on one truth: African women are not footnotes to history; they are its architects, its custodians, its living pulse.

Rooted in archival research, oral tradition, and classroom dialogue, HerStory moves where conventional histories often falter. It asks how we might confront enslavement, colonial conquest, patriarchy, and structural violence without diminishing agency, joy, care, and imagination. Here, pain is not residue alone; it is also evidence. The wound itself becomes an archive. Poetry allows what prose often cannot: multiplicity, emotional truth, ethical witnessing. These poems hold rupture and resistance together, refusing a history drained of feeling.

The collection unfolds in spirals-sovereignty, captivity, protest, embodiment, reclamation, and love-echoing African oral storytelling, where memory is renewed through return. Poems such as "Remember This!," "An African Feminist Archive," "Twelve Notes for Miss Ma'am," "She Who Becomes," "Unlearning the Definition," and "HERstory" trace the intimate labor of naming, becoming, and self-authorship. Alongside them, works like "The Backbone of Protest," "Petitions Written in Blood," "Aba Rose, 1929," and "Hashtag Drums" braid archival resistance with contemporary movements, linking women's historical acts of defiance to ongoing struggles such as #BringBackOurGirls and #FreeLeah.

Bodies speak loudly in this book. From naked protest to whispered refusal, from markets to courtrooms to digital streets, HerStory reveals African women as archivists of affect-carrying history in gesture, rhythm, song, silence, and care. Archive here is not confined to shelves or documents; it lives in bodies, voices, rituals, memories, and imagination. History is not only written, it is embodied.

In its final movements, HerStory turns inward. Following the deaths of the author's father and two sisters, poetry becomes the form unafraid of silence. Grief is rendered communal rather than isolating, while love emerges as its own archive through luminous tributes to the author's wife, Grace. Private memory opens outward, and the personal becomes unmistakably historical.

HerStory is a historian's refusal of the lie that rigor must be bloodless. It is African poetry as feminist archive, ethical witness, and living record-honoring orality, written evidence, activism, and care as method. These poems do not speak for African women; they speak with them, across time and memory. Readers are invited not to consume these poems, but to hold them; to sit with discomfort, reckon with unfinished histories, and recognize their place within them.

This is scholarship with pulse. Poetry with responsibility. An invitation to witness, to listen, and to remember with care.