Revisiting Arrows of Rain by Tade Ipadeola
The philosopher’s luxury consists in part of play with thought and phenomena. If, they may say, for example, a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to…
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Of Home and Other Places We Claim — Adeola Opeyemi
What happens to them if they can’t diagnose me? They look like they are afraid of not just me but something beyond this austere room. They stay a few feet away, a barrier between us, and make promises. But they won’t come closer. How do you hope to inspect the things you can’t touch? I smile and move towards them, my chains jangling and biting into my ankles. They move back hurriedly. I can see it in their eyes; everything unfamiliar is dangerous.
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Factory Baby — Frances Ogamba
The child stops smelling like a child. The perfumed powders and lotions do not deter the sharp burning smell that creeps into my room each time he wails. Then he gives off an intensely musky smell, like the ripe yellow mucus dripping from the nose, or the slime coming off the body of fish.
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Yes, It Is Obscene, Ms Adichie, But… – Dami Ajayi
I The world of letters is divided by temperaments, ideologies, perceived paranoia, and just plain bad blood. Two Nobel laureates once took their gloves off in the evening of their…
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Fuji: Soundtrack to Life in Ibadan – Bunmi Familoni
But not many people went home; all the various strata of society represented there morphed into one, a single monogenous organism pulsating to the rhythm of fuji.
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Three Poems – Zach Beach
Praise the Light of Late October So soon we have reached the cusp of October where we trade in our apples and peonies for pumpkins and sweet alyssum. The outstretched…
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Three Poems – Tares Oburumu
essay on boat in the oval of St. John’s Chapel. in the dome of his visions; in the form of ship or skew, the times come. the virgins have been…
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Two Poems – Ron Riekki
My Roommate Translated during Just Cause—lying on his bed, the darkness, telling me he had to talk, and I said to talk then and the crickets were gone and the…
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Three Poems – Omodero David
Gratitude for What we have become After Sanam Sheriff For time & space whittled down to water beneath our tender feet shaped into a paddling mechanism of movement and our…
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The Sharp Weight of Inheritance – Nnadi Samuel
“I do not know if hurt is my birthright”— Jason B. Crawford knuckle withholds an English suffering, clenched in fierce strain. my unsheathed hands, hurled spacelike, knifing a worship. there…
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Two Poems – Olumide Manuel
20.10.20 there are no rules except those against protests. the silence came for us before the bullets. every wound devours itself. dark green molds in the lips culturing a system…
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Two Poems – Bruce McRae
Cry Timber The arborist has gone quite mad. For every tree felled another woodland grows. He saws and saws, and there is no end to his sawing. The mills are…
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Three Poems – Chisom Okafor
A piercing through the dark In the face of darkness, this secluded space is a pathology likewise to live alone in it. My heart keeps failing in bits, as the…
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Two Poems – Roseline Anya Okorie
Roots Love grows in the evening Dies at dawn There is not enough prophecy about hearts How it can become vapor Fighting for space in the sky There are many…
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