There’s No Home the Dead Do Not Paint Grey – Ekpenyong Kosisochukwu Collins
There’s No Home the Dead Do Not Paint Grey Ekpenyong Kosisochukwu CollinsDear Grief, My father's death did not destroy me. The world moved its flower beds to another compound the day he died. People wined and dined their sadness. Birds cawed above us. Dogs shat in...
Maiduguri, for Chandos Anthem No. 9 – Echezonachukwu Nduka
Maiduguri, for Chandos Anthem No. 9 Echezonachukwu Nduka“Find what you love and let it kill you.” —Charles Bukowski a. “So this is how you wish to die?” I could not get the question out of my mind. Each time I tried, the voice increased in resonance and followed me...
Vestiges – Anthony Ukwuoma
Vestiges Anthony UkwuomaThe morning my grandmother’s kitchen fell, she was cooking rice. My grandfather, Ochiabuo, was in his 20s when he built the kitchen with clay. Before the mud house was constructed, they lived in a thatched hut that offered little space but...
Vinegar-dipped Memories – Munachimso Ochiabutor
Vinegar-dipped Memories Munachimso OchiabutorI. My heart has become accustomed to this raw, sharp pain; it cuts me into fine shreds and leaves resentment simmering hot beneath my skin. The first time I felt this pain coursing through my heart was after I graduated...
Hellos and Goodbyes – FS Ashaolu
Hellos and Goodbyes FS AshaoluIt wasn't until a year ago that I became aware of how my heart raced whenever a friend did not pick up my calls or reply to my texts. A text that was not replied to or a missed call sent my imagination spiralling out of control. I would...
Gods of the Ivory Tower – Martin-Hassan Eze
Gods of the Ivory Tower Martin-Hassan EzeWe all have stories to tell. Some of our stories we gladly tell to whoever cares to listen, parroting them until we begin to sound like worn-out tapes. Others, we leave to gather dust at the bottom of our hearts because they...
On the Sunny Side of the Street – Tolu Daniel
On the Sunny Side of the Street Tolu Daniel1. Outside my small apartment on the west side of Manhattan, Kansas, the noise is staccato. Fireworks have been designing the evening like the canvas of Van Gogh's Starry Night. Excited American adults and teenagers yip and...
Everything Became a Drowning Dream – Alimot Salami
Everything Became a Drowning Dream Alimot Salami"The body is a blade that sharpens by cutting." – Ocean Vuong I Grief is the only thing that can break one into fragments. I recall being called different, queer, boring, and other things, which made me feel like a...
The One Who Died With Secrets and Other Forms of Goodness – Favour Iruoma Chukwuemeka
The One Who Died With Secrets and Other Forms of Goodness Favour Iruoma Chukwuemeka The inability to wail when most required, at the edge of a deathbed, amidst other crying people, is a personal disability. I discovered this through several events, often death...
All Was Well Until It Wasn’t – Raheem Omeiza
All Was Well Until It Wasn’t Raheem OmeizaThere aren't many things I hate more than the rush that surrounds the Maghrib prayer. The correct time for Maghrib is tricky: dusk, but not the beginning of dusk because that is too early, but also not at night when there’s no...
This Black Body of Yours – Emmanuel Esomnofu
This Black Body of Yours Emmanuel EsomnofuI didn't know how to be so youngand not belong anywhere, stuckamong so many perplexing melodies.– Philip Schultz You don’t want to know how it feels. Trust me, you don’t. The day has hardly begun and you’ve just entered the...
Passing Through – Brendon Holder
Passing Through Brendon Holder1. In 2015, one of the first viral disputes took centre stage online. The internet found itself entangled in a discussion over the dress a mother planned on wearing to her daughter’s wedding in Colonsay, Scotland. The debate, catalysed by...