By Adedoyin Ajayi “Doyin!” No matter how much he tried, he could never quite pronounce my name the right way, with the stress on the first syllable. His Igbo...
Category - Fiction and Poetry
By Sunday Saheed you hate to say it, but you’re still a stranger that looks the world from afar. there are beautiful gallows at each piazza that opens the route to the...
By Jaachị Anyatọnwụ skinned knees & runny nose undersized shirts & patched shorts bible recitals & chin-chin prizes fanta. 5alive. chipitos. papa ajasco...
Fiction and Poetry
After The Giant Greenlights, Nothing Here Is Worthy Of Symphony? | Psalmuel Benjamin
In this part of the global egg, a boy is a yolk– yoked like an ass before a hill of emotion– exalting Itself like Herod in a room within his chest and Loitering, like a...
Nnewi, Nigeria. * We sit around a fire and await my grandma’s spirit to announce its presence by discolouring the small flame. When brick-red becomes green, we...
