Home is in my hair, my lips, my arms, my thighs, my feet and my hands. I am my own home. And when I… — Diriye Osman Copy Share Image
In those sticky summer nights in South London our windows stay open and our tiny apartment becomes our secret garden. The magic of the… — Diriye Osman Copy Share Image
“He carries home in the way he walks: an elegant, loose strut. He wears home on his skin in the form of attar, a… — Diriye Osman Copy Share Image
“Even Story Time was political. Miss Mumbi infused each fairytale with Kenyan flavour. She illustrated these remixes on the blackboard. 'Rapunzel' became 'Rehema,' a… — Diriye Osman Copy Share Image
“i have been told many times by family, friends, colleagues and strangers that I, a black African Muslim lesbian, am not included in this… — Diriye Osman Copy Share Image
If dislocation is a permanent state, I want to try and explore the possibility of temporary impermanence. If dislocation is a tatty dress from… — Diriye Osman Copy Share Image
“You may feel like your future is slipping from your grasp, that if you don’t rush now to greet your dreams you might lose… — Diriye Osman Copy Share Image
Daughter, I want you to form the most intense, loving relationship with yourself. Only then will you realize your capacity for kindness and emotional… — Diriye Osman Copy Share Image
“Every experience lately felt like an experiment of the body, of its power and limitations. Such experiments created a desire for something more fulfilling.… — Diriye Osman Copy Share Image
“I've always loved being gay. Sure, Kenya was not exactly Queer Nation but my sexuality gave me joy. I was young, not so dumb… — Diriye Osman Copy Share Image
“Who do I write for? I thought about this again and again over the next few days until the answer crystalized in my consciousness.… — Diriye Osman Copy Share Image
