In her introduction to the first issue of A Public Space, Brigid Hughes expresses the hope that, “the magazine will be an ongoing conversation between writers, editors, and readers.” A magazine is not simply a collection of words whipped together and presented to its publics. Rather, a magazine is a living thing: a dialogue, a dance, a game, an experience shared between its conveyors and its receivers. And it is with this in mind that we present our second issue to you, our community of readers and supporters. We ask that you think of it as more than a mix of the words and thoughts and creative products of the few writers and poets and editors and artists featured here, but as the product of an ongoing engagement between all of us— readers and editors and writers and poets and artists— who make up Enkare Review.
Now, more than ever, as Enkare Review, we are thankful and proud to be one of the many communities that make up the African literary space: the communities at Saraba, at Jalada Africa, at Brittle Paper, at the Johannesburg Review of Books, at the Kalahari Review; the communities on Facebook and Twitter and Instagram who initiate all the important conversations that must be had; the communities in Abeokuta and Kisumu and Jinja and Moshi; the communities in Whatsapp groups and beer parlors gossiping and loving and living; all the communities, mentioned and unmentioned who form the African literary family.
We invite you to share in the work we have curated so far. Meet some of the clowns who make up our community. Look out for our next issue, which will feature work created primarily by the collective behind Enkare Review. And we wish that our work, our past and future issues, will be an ongoing conversation between the Enkare community and all the other communities of readers and writers and editors and poets and photographers and texters and artists. Talk to us here and here!
In the meantime, here’s Enkare Review’s Issue II.