The Widow’s Son He died trying to Be a better father To the son he had Longed for years To have as a man, And he could not Live long to father The child he had Become a dad to. The child was…
African Literature and Lifestyle in One Pot
The Widow’s Son He died trying to Be a better father To the son he had Longed for years To have as a man, And he could not Live long to father The child he had Become a dad to. The child was…
The green leaf will dry and fall from the tree. The grass will also wither, helplessly. So too, shall I die. Then, set my body on fire and pour the ashes in a bottle. Place it in the hollow of the leafless tree.…
In Africa, in the twilight of the 1st century, a mysterious light shone from a faraway land, carried by the children of God, and, in a shroud of brightness, many countries and kingdoms, villages and ethnic, sons and daughters, submitted themselves to the power of…
“Mama, why is my skin black?” The little girl spoke gently with the wind swirling upon her tongue, where the powerful storm within her question rose. The little girl was her Mama’s eye where the beauty of the world was contained. Her bulgy brown eyes…
You stand like a statue at the mouth of your thatched-roof hut, gazing at the heaven as black clouds try to cover the serene blue sky. I think you’re wondering why “#EndSARS” and “EndPoliceBrutalityinNigeria” is hashtagging on social media like the way it is written…
THE PORTRAIT On the eve of that awful day Crows and vultures were all hovering Crying in soliloquy like the night owl The sky darkened in fear of what to come As it rumbles with thunderstorms Singing the songs of dirge As the…
Early this morning around 4 AM, while I was trying to get out of bed to go use the bathroom, I felt the weight of heavy materials, like a heap of clothes, resting on my right arm and benumbing it. The room was unapologetically dark…
Your mother says his spirit still lingers and wanders around the house. She says when he is around she can feel his presence in every corner of the house. At first, you feel frightened and a little confused. How can someone who is dead still…
Before you proceed to explore the space underneath my belt Which you have laid waste to, Take a moment to trace the origin of the rivers that flow in your body. Search, till you get to the point where your father and the one before…
I am the girl next door A flower in its prime, full of alluring scent as it gleams Her breast pointing as she dazzles with her impeccable brown skin Her lips calling for an embrace as she talks and flips it I am the girl…