Self-Etymology
by Agboola Tariq A. The lore goes: what a child bears is whatBecomes of him. At my birth ceremonyI was dorned in a garment of namesFather straps me with an epithetForeign to his tongue and my body الطريق إلى الحقيقة…
poetry column nnd
Garden of Primroses
By Emmanuel Somtochukwu Ferdinand Like you, I am more scar than flesh.But I have forgiven the knife & I am seeing the world for what it is—A garden. From this balcony, the sun stares, Unflinching, at the darkness crawling towards…
Learning Ikwerre on Duolingo
By Marvellous Mmesomachi Igwe Uprooted from the ethnicity of a thousand ancestors, I havefound myself seeking the app again to learn my father’s first tongue.Or perhaps is the app not the father?Algorithms and codes where there was once flesh and…
Maze
By Aishat Yahkub I’ll let my shadows trail behind, while you holdmy untethered form in this blue darksea of stars lapping gently at usas the bored night rows our soulless bodies outto shore & back, with the drifting tidesdoes it…
A dove is a dua
By Rabi Lawal To live like a bumblebee,Is to be calm through the chaos.The world burning like the Djibouti sun.A flame for the child soaked in tomato-Red blood, mistaken for ketchup.Sleep clouds the rim of my weary mind.I love what…
Evolution
By Rachael Madakan Dandi Nighttime under the moonlight, I speak of agingbonds. It begins with lust or love. The theory ofthe unloved unfurled after a backlash. A womancalls the world to hear her out. Her voice, musicin the core of…
A Dream About My Grandfather’s Masquerade In Which It Dances From A Holographic Projection At The Museum Of The Future, Dubai
By Michael Okafor If you had watched with me,you would’ve seen it too:7-ft river of light pouringfrom behind the throat of a projector—the customary emergence of a godfrom an anthill—refracted lightpointed towards empty space. The pixelated brilliance of cowriesupholstering its…
Phoenix
By Olayioye Paul Bamidele A theory goes: the dead, like the Rose of Jericho, know a thing about regermination. Say, water bears breathing in the soil. Say the flute songs in the bones of patriots. Healing bubbles the way harmattan…
Like a comet on a horizon
By Michael Amos Imona Beneath Niger’s twilight, I roam throughveiled horizons. My lens, a witness to dusk’squiet descent; a silent pilgrimage where shadowsblur, and she—my imagined divinity—breathes. Her gaze is the night’s lust for light; an unchartedriver swollen with ache,…
Love Abecedarian
By Clement Abayomi Ache begins at the denouement of love. Today, theBleak sky mirrors the gracelessness of my ashen eyes.Coffee tomorrow is the taste of a blood-soaked bile, & myDay-long dreams yearn to liquefy like sugar in hot oil.Eyes, glittering…