by Agwaze Gift Naomi Sitting under the mango tree. Enjoying the cool night air, With the moon smiling down on all beneath. The happy chatter of little ones, anticipating the moonlight tales of the elderly. Sounds of mothers petting their toddlers to sleep. Fathers under the cashew tree discussing pressing issues at hand while sipping […]
Dear Nigeria, I come bearing gifts as you mark yet another year to celebrate your freedom Freedom from the shackles of colonialism From the chains of oppression From the shadows of divisions Division of work, one may think but that’s not it. You celebrate your disentanglement from the shadows of division, that which held you
Dear Nigeria: Our Independence Day Stories Read More »
The birth mark at the back of my neck was from cigarettes stubs that Baami pressed on my neck when I first came to this world. They said I died a lot of time, more like a premium Abiku, I’m sure you must have heard about us too.
WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO DIE AGAIN? – Ololade Edun Read More »
Let me Go!
I’m definitely more powerful
Wittier
Smarter
and I even have a plan.
Murewa Ademola- Idowu. – TribeLead. Read More »
You smell of cocoa butter and vanilla.
I know because I’ve held you in my arms
Although never as a lover
It’s funny how I know almost every detail about you
Cocoa Butter and Vanilla – Jomiloju Zoltan. Read More »
“Fake It
Till you make it”
The noise of it f(ee)ls the air.
Marching along the highways
Some zap by at the speed of light
And others r(high)de on wings of flying dinosaurs;
Or so they thought.
FAKE IS….WHAT(??) – Maradesa Ebenezer. Read More »
“Go tie your wrapper well, can’t you see, you have started growing breasts?”, Said ubunkhei, my 14-year old male best-friend. Mami and Papi always told me to tie my wrappers well too, especially when going to the stream because “evil spirits were always looking for people as wives and husbands” I never took any of them serious, I always felt safe in my village.
Two Lovely Fellows.- Ezekwe Jessica Chidinma Read More »
That day the preacher-man went mad, everything he did was against the church itself. When he preached, he stamped his feet on the white tiles and clasped the microphone between his palms. When he sang, the church muffled and swayed from here to there like an Iroko tree blown by the desert wind. He called out verses – he carefully picked the verses – the ones that were long, long enough to throw the congregation in disarray of whispers.
The Madman and his congregation.- Isaiah Adepoju Read More »
Stone,
Someone dig the ground to find you
Blood, shed for your sack
In believe that you can be gold
Mixed with fire you scream for help
DEAR STONE – Jesse Okeleye Benedict Read More »
Is it really about a biological clock, or morelike a culturally imposed timeline informed by an outdated notion that in the absence of a husband – what have youreallyachieved in life?
MARRIED AT 30 – Flavia Boris Read More »