What I remember of my country
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 of an olive tree that hangs in the ruin of the wind. Today, the…
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 of an olive tree that hangs in the ruin of the wind. Today, the…