Every once in a while a story, a poem or an essay comes across an editor’s desk and changes everything an editor believes about storytelling. As an editor, whenever this happens, I find myself filled with so many questions without any simple answer – one of them being why that particular story hasn’t been told yet. However, I am often reminded that there are so many stories out there, yearning to be told, fighting to be listened to. There are so many competing voices, each rising in a crescendo, longing for their songs to be heard across the world. Our job as editors is to make space for as many of these voices as possible, as many as we can.

That, to me, has always been the mission of Lolwe. When I set out to build the platform almost five years ago, I had the singular intention of providing a platform where these stories could come together in one big chorus that would make the world listen. I wanted to provide room for as many of them as we could. As the author and activist Arundhati Roy reminds us, “There’s really no such thing as the ‘voiceless’. There are only the deliberately silenced, or the preferably unheard.” And within the African context, we find that these voices are sometimes both unheard and silenced! 

But these are the beautiful voices we need to create room for. These are the voices we need to turn to and build homes for. We cannot allow them to go unheard any longer.

Now this kind of work is never without its own challenges, and sometimes these challenges can lead to frustration, anger or despair. I will admit here to you all that I have sometimes experienced this with Lolwe in the face of all the challenges we come across. I have questioned my ability to do this work. I have sat down with myself and felt like the sense of purpose no longer exists within me. And yet in those moments, I come across a story, a poem or an essay sent by a writer to Lolwe that is so powerful it reminds me exactly why I set out on this mission, jolts me back and sets me on the right path. I am grateful to all the writers whose stories guide us back to ourselves. I am grateful to all the 300+ writers who have made Lolwe the home for all their stories, who have trusted us with their voices.

To all the writers out there who are still trying to get their voices heard, keep going. Someday soon, your songs will be so loud everyone will have to listen.

To everyone who keeps supporting us, donating to us, reading us, sharing and talking about the stories we bring to the world, never stop. You are the reason we keep doing this. 

I want to acknowledge the guest editors Ya Mallen Jagne, Karen Nadu Ologoudou and Tamanda Kanjaye who came together to bring us another brilliant issue of Lolwe. They have worked tirelessly reading through hundreds of submissions and choosing the ones that speak to them. That is no easy task and I am grateful for all their effort and patience.

I also want to thank Nadaud Aïcha Fall who provided the beautiful and powerful cover image of Issue 9 and Mòje Ikpeme who read these stories and interpreted them so brilliantly with the well thought out illustrations.

Michelle Korir, Linda Mchawi, Emmerita Ambata, Victoria Chizoba – my wonderful editorial team that keeps the gears oiled and running, you are all so wonderful! To Racheal Kizza who does our publicity work, you rock! Thank you all for being such a great team to work with!

Finally, to all our readers, you have been with us from the first day, you have cheered us on, you have given us every reason to believe in the work. Thank you!