For Sudanese readers living through the current crisis, the following lines by the late Mohammed el-Makkī Ibrahim resonate with striking immediacy, even though they were written in the 1980s. Beneath the layers of grief, a restrained optimism continues to breathe through its lines.
By Adil Babikir October holds a special place in the modern history of Sudan. During this month, sixty years ago, the Sudanese people overthrew the first military dictatorship in what […]
This Body isn’t Mine By Ziad A. Mahafza Translated by Adil Babikir When I woke up that night from a prolonged coma, it felt as if I were swimming in […]
Abdelaziz Baraka Sakin’s Samahani is out this week from Foundry Editions in team translation by Mayada Ibrahim and Adil Babikir. Samahani–which means “forgive me” in Swahili, stands “in stark contrast […]
Abdelaziz Baraka Sakin’s Samahani is out today from Foundry Editions in team translation by Mayada Ibrahim and Adil Babikir. Samahani–which means “forgive me” in Swahili, stands “in stark contrast to […]
Introduced and translated by Adil Babikir “I was always fascinated by the river from my very early childhood”, Tayeb Salih once said. “And I think I somewhat understood what the […]
From March and April, a list of recently released and forthcoming novels, poetry collections, and a study of Sudanese poetry.
“Were they a bundle of arugula,
displayed for sale to the westerners in the big city,
they’d have been spared the scorching heat.
Instead, they’d have been carefully placed on a wet matt in the shade,
their lips kept wet with sprinkled water
their cheeks sparkling with freshness and moisture.”
“Only a ghajari knows the meaning of love.”
