Absent My friend’s father is a dead soldier. By dead I mean, he blinks, he breathes and shifts between spaces Every now and then but
The Mayor sings for himself (i) I am the man who Kan Father, son and lover The one they call Mayor (ii) They call me father I
Anatomy of Silence What do I accept from this silence, this silence that lacerates peace, this silence, anathema to bliss, this silence,
Till Death Comes Knocking On Our Doors Here, even amongst our own Anything you say of depression Can be dismissed as Eurocentrism
Wọn ni – àwọn olóye – wọn ni Gbogbo nkan ti o nmi lórí ilẹ̀ yìí, Lọ má kú. Míì mọ b’oya àgbàlagbà lọ sọ’yen Kí kò lè je
In all my years— it always begins— never have I ever, followed by many things that mean nothing at all. Tínúkẹ́ always leaves herself at
From ÌGBỌ̀NRÌRÌ Chimamanda Adichie (Ìtumọ̀ láti ọwọ́ Kọ́lá Túbọ̀sún) Ukamaka gbé fóònù alágbèéká ẹ̀, ó dúró sẹ́gbẹ̀ẹ́
COMING OF AGE Davina Philomena Kawuma Age 8. The student teacher’s slap leaves me in a daze. Why me? I’m usually compliant.
AN OAK TREE DIES SLOWLY Ani Kayode Somtochukwu I When we were boys, we wanted to grow into men. Rock solid men. The kind we saw on posters
THE LANDSCAPE OF TALLY, AN INHERITANCE Oluwatobi Afolabi Someone once told me lies are necessary. I agree. Some lies are subtle, like the