Munira Hussein

The Language of My Volatility
Munira's Mind

The Language of my Volatility

The Language of My Volatility   Most of us claim to resort to our vernaculars when in the depths of pain or joy. All the

Poetry

Playing Catch-up

You ain’t seen me in a while but I’m good. I ain’t worried much these days, and it’s been a bliss. Met a man and

The Hope That You Lived Well
Munira's Mind

The Hope That You Lived Well

My thoughts are often morbid but they don’t start out like that.  Lately, however, a transformation that I cannot recall, happening, drifts my morbid thoughts

Fatherly Vignettes
Munira's Mind

Fatherly Vignettes

Father carries the yellow spray pump on his back. We are headed to my grandparents’ home to spray the goats. Ticks and fleas are running

Get Well Soon
Munira's Mind

Get Well Soon

I am not great at being a patient. I remember times when I would go to the hospital to get a diagnosis, and then skip

Riding the Tides
Munira's Mind

Riding the Tides

I bumped into love. I am sorry because I know in my last letter about falling for someone, I said I wouldn’t fall in love