Writing Toward the Future
Publications
I write. Not to explain my work, but to extend it — into language, into thought, into the minds of those who may never enter the forge, never walk the garden, never sit at the elder’s feet.
These publications archive the indigenous practices we preserve. They contemporize them for the modern reader. They argue toward the futuristic African world we want to see.
New article released every Friday. Subscribe. Read. Respond.
Article Series
Monthly
The Colonial Fiction
How the separation of human from nature enabled extraction, enslavement, and ecological destruction. How we unwrite it.
Monthly
The Five Obligations
Deep dives into each obligation — know the name, know the spiritual association, obtain permission, offer return, plan for return.
Bi-weekly
True Names
A Twi glossary for makers. The names of materials, deities, practices, and landscapes. Reclaiming language as reclaiming knowledge.
Monthly
The Body as Landscape
Disability and Nipadua. How the indigenous lens sees every body as terrain, not deficit. How design emerges from this truth.
Monthly
The Economy of Relationship
Beyond money. The ledger of exchange that includes labor, ceremony, memory, and silence.
Quarterly
The Return
How art goes back to earth. Case studies of burial, composting, and ceremonial return.
Quarterly
The Convulsion
My aunt Abena Kwabena and the birth of this practice. Personal essays on loss, body, and transformation.
Monthly
Futuristic African
Speculative essays on the African world we want to see — built from indigenous root, not colonial retrofit.
Latest Articles
The Name of Clay is Not “Medium”
“To call clay ‘medium’ is to wound Asase Yaa twice: first by taking without asking, second by refusing to speak her name.”
The Tree That Cannot Walk
“My aunt never walked again after the convulsion. But she was still Nipadua. Still human-tree. Still body-as-arboreal. The Western world called her ‘disabled.’ The elders called her ‘deep.’”
Ubuntu and the Circular Economy
“Capitalism hoards. Ubuntu circulates. The same sap that rises must fall. The same wealth that enters must leave. This is not charity. This is physics.”
The Future is Temporary
“The African city of the future will not be built of concrete that outlives its purpose. It will be built of earth that returns, of wood that asks permission, of rooms that breathe and die gracefully.”
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Contribute
Do you write from indigenous practice? We accept submissions under the same five obligations that govern all our work.
Printed Collections
Selected articles, bound and printed on recycled paper with natural ink. For those who want to hold the words in hand.
I write not to explain but to extend.
The article is not separate from the sculpture. The essay is not separate from the performance. All are one practice, one breath, one attempt to build the African future from African root.