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By Hassan A. Usman For Leo Into March, I follow my misfortune. I am catastrophic— a standout among the recipes for a sad...
By Adesiyan Oluwapelumi I am sick of being okay. Term it my ingratitude. I confess, grace is the sharpest item I have ever touched. Go ahead,...
By Olalekan Daniel Kehinde Dusk floods my eyes with life, plants me in a zephyr, as nightingales parcel out songs mango leaves trip onto the dancefloor...
By Adamu Yahuza Abdullahi I don’t know how not to nurture silence. Every time I write, I am reminded that my country is a broken branch...
By Chinecherem Enujioke On this beach, there is no one. The footprints say too much. About the past. Things that remain unsaid but heard. Voices reaching...
By Osieka Osinimu Alao A chancel of songs looped in reverse is a pointer at damnation. Who keeps stealing the crucifix, cremated verses settling as ash...
By Abdulmueed Balogun Adewale (For Shabina Feisal) Take this tawdry dunya by the edge, like the frail wings of a moth, with the tips of your...
By Okoronkwo Chisom My grandfather told my father that he could be anything he wanted, so he chiseled his body to look like rain. He fell...
By Saheed Sunday there are different voices at the centre of what holds láfeńwá up. the first time we held our heads over the demarcation between...
By Bayo Aderoju Something about wanting to be the head of a headless mob like the young activist who has never read Jeyifo, who said: Frantz...