Guest Writers, Short Story

Matilda’s cross – By Sharon Imarhiagbe

Matilda woke up to a disturbingly high-pitched hum coming from the television. She reached for the remote controller which was seated beside her. After reducing the volume of the television, she checked the time from the clock hanging lazily on the wall. “Past midnight,” she confirmed. It wasn’t the first time Kingsley, her husband, would come home late. Matilda recalled a…

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Short Story

For the men who we choose to forget: By Zoey Newman

Mornings in Selemku begin with the discovery and lynching of another boy-girl. Their bodies are dragged out on the street, scraping against the coarse tar. Through the sheathed glass of my room’s window, I see the stern faces of the men who tie up the boy-girls and wound old tyres around their necks. I can almost scoop the sweat dripping…

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Guest Writers, Poetry, Short Story, Women

A Family unit – Poetry on Domestic Violence by Arinzechukwu Patrick featuring Kofi Eghan

It’s hard to exit toxic relationships. For example the family unit, some people just learn to endure a certain kind of pain that they get used to it. Like every form of training, physical and verbal abuse, over time, becomes hard to decolonize. Achebe once said, “Being Nigerian is abysmally frustrating and unbelievably exciting.” It is not a lie, which…

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Blog

Random Thoughts on Afrogallonism

Sex is the highest currency. Sex is the only commodity that can give money and politics, religion and power a run for its money. Sex runs the world.  Politics, on the other hand, is how the world relates to itself, our beliefs, but with a business-like approach, it is the conversation between all the citizens of Earth. After a brief but intellectually stimulating conversation with Serge…

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Blog

Toothache

I like milk shortcake biscuits. It is a product of CRL Munchies Company, weighs about 85 kg and has a total number of twelve round milk coated deliciousness. I don’t know why I binge eat certain biscuits or biscuits at all, and not just biscuits, candy bars like snickers (albeit I seldom eat chocolates), because it is bad for my…

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Poetry

Viral disease

Like is a viral disease. When you like someone You transfer the likeness to their skin Hair Body figure Friends Face And characteristics If there happens to be something you find yourself unable to like About a person Then you resolve within yourself to like it.  

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Guest Writers, Poetry

Water

Sometimes pride fills my stomach and makes my head wary of a fall My cure is thinking of my insignificance And so I go to the beach and stare at the open sea. Water has this weird way of letting us know We don’t matter Try it Dip your finger in a cup of water Take it out and notice…

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Blog, Short Story, Women

How Igbo Women Greet

As a boy aunties used to come from the village and rushed into our house to hug my mother. They each had a unique way they greeted, some began by shouting hysterically from outside and calling my mother’s first name, dropping everything they had on the floor and not letting the car stop. And when they saw her they always…

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Guest Writers, Poetry

Kofi Eghan: The Dawn of a New Era

Many dreams I had when I was a kid. So I yearned to be an adult. Oh how fast have I aged, Wondering where I left my youthful days, As I embrace old age. In between the past and future, I live in the present today. My past I cannot erase, My future I don’t want to embrace. It’s like…

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Poetry

Here are some simple rules to follow

Here are simple rules to follow when relating with other humans: Do you want to be respected and loved? Every human on earth wants to be loved and respected too so in your dealing with them think about how your actions might go against their want of it. Some people eat as a need and some do for need and…

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