Poetry Column-NND is open to poetry submissions from Nigerian poets weekly. We publish one poem per week in our newspaper by Nigerian poets & are open to a diversity of voices—established & emerging. Check out our website for older publications…
by tosin gbogi what does the sea bring back to me now what does it wash ashore in its nude song of crossing and what floats on its frothing face, butterflying with the tide . . . the light of…
By Olatunde Osinaike Getting to know him in the interim, and the gulf of prepositions describing the relative he has been to the two younger than me. Around, against, beyond, concerning, without, notwith- standing: all of the ways we have…
By Abdulrazaq Salihu At a lab in NASA, I sprawl my fingers On all the keys that could undo the deed Of misconception and miscalculation Like water does to dry land — revive its glory. My mistakes transpire from my…
By Fatihah Quadri Eniola There is no swathe that holds the slender back of hope, no truss to prehend its clavicles from break- opening. I bend the knee, seconds crash what ladders me to God. My grandma’s radio returning her…
By Blessing Omeiza Ojo At the IDP camp, where my kitten wouldn’t agree to sleep, I laid, missing my home, my mattress and sweet sleep. Mosquitoes wouldn’t quit the making of music in my ears. Afterward, they sucked me. It…
By Emmanuel Mgbabor you pull each nylon wing as you would unhinge a star from the sky’s dress. & for the first time, you watch a thing discolour in your palm. & i love you for this bravery, for the…
By Muhammed Olowonjoyin in the end, we’re all constructs of things that couldn’t kill us. and what we are left with when their knives fail are fears to pillage our chests on days when we watch the disasters our dreams…
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, call me peeled skin, euphemise my sorrow. Say to my face, mercy tutors the…
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 for. The shadow of a cat, cold contours run after the rats scouting for…
