Fiction and Poetry
There is a woman —her voice dragged across the wet belly of Mokwa — mourning…
There are some faces that fade into oblivion. You forget them; their structures, their voices,…
Some days you get so horny you feel like you’re gonna die. It’s 4:15 am…
In my sleep, I saw the family tree, men with waterproof bodies engulfed in the…
The first time I visited Uncle Idris’s mansion was with my mother. She was wearing…
I sang lullabies with eyes stitched shut, my voice a cage, a shackle wrapped in…
1. I am on a train going to Hampstead for my mother’s surprise professorship dinner…
the village’s elegy i attend many funerals and truth is, i can’t help. i see…
Transit Between airports, I lose pieces of myself — a mother’s laugh, an orison in…
1. The weeks that led to Afunwa’s return came with a lot of speculation, even…