THEY SPEAK ONLY OUR MOTHER TONGUE
“What is the use of a book without pictures or conversations?” asks Lewis Carroll’s Alice.
Perhaps there isn’t any. But within this slim poetry volume, Theophilus Kwek has painted the images and articulated the exchanges that shape his landscape, family and self – an open invitation to partake, with him, in a feast of the soul and for the senses. Join this young writer as he embarks on, as John Morley describes, “the most seductive, the most deceiving, the most dangerous” of journeys, and steps forward to reclaim his tongue.