When 'My Dear Brother' was published in Viva,^ I spent a lot of time feeling that I had committed a serious crime. My friends feared for my marriage. My senior officer was reported to have said, 'This means divorce, doesn't it?' It did not mean divorce. What it did mean was that I started from then on to realise that telling the truth, even disguised truth through poetry, short stories, or even folklore, alienates you. My friends at Viva were of course delighted with the poem, especially as it generated quite a number of letters to the editor for a number of issues after it appeared.
Akello, Grace, We too have hands, Kunapipi, 7(2), 1985.