Going Mad in Nsukka – James-Ibe Chinaza
Going Mad in Nsukka Mọ́renikeji, God is dead, and I’ve been binge-watching videos on YouTube. I swear, I am not trying to be a woke babe. The world is made of blood, and we are all gut-deep lacerations, asymmetrical axes,…
Myths, Memory, and Representation: Ashley Thorpe’s Vision for Literature
In this interview, Thorpe talks about how his background and personal experiences influenced his writing. He shares the challenges of getting published and explains why it’s important for children’s books to include diverse characters and stories. Thorpe’s vision is to create a more inclusive world of stories where every child can see themselves as the hero.
Morning Worship – Grant Shimmin
Huddled, in the freezing pre-dawnaround a battery-powered altarlistening for what our coldbut eager ears wanted to hear We sat, a worshipful group of teenage Christian companions on camp in the heart of winterstraining to make out what was happening in a rugby…
Shore-gazing – Praise Osawaru
Praise Osawaru (he/him) is a writer of Bini descent. A Best of the Net, Pushcart Prize, and Nina Riggs Poetry Award nominee….
How to Tell My Body I Love You – JoeMario Umana
after Georgia Ifunaya’s Self-Love running waterfrom the showerbecomes hands& crawl my skinlike cover crops over soil, planting a million pimples on my body—a land fertilewith want. I slide into the tunnelof my left palm’s indexand thumb, slippery like okra’s drawmade from soap and water. this…
Thoughts about Tension – Blessing Obiahu
Tension should not be the umbrella word for that jolt that reverberates through your bones and skin when you brush a live wire on a day IKEDC forgets to flick the switch off in your zone because it does more…
Placed in a Place – Merlin Flower
Placed in a place To the rain that edged on only as a muffled scream gobbled by a car and then a truck. To the rain that came back, more furious with the cyclone. water rushed everywhere knee deep…
Osholonge – Onoberhie Janet Ojevwe
A street divided by both the doers and the saintsA street divided by the houses: dilapidated and well structured Divided by different tongues, practices and beliefsTime to time, blue and red sirens come visiting With full force, taking into captivity the doers…
Lover Prelude – N Sehar
After Zaina Alsous Inside the eyes is a river. Inside the river, some loose fragments of tree Inside the tree, fish skulls, salt buried in the chest of the earth, unnamed Forgotten lovers. Inside the lovers, a sea of sorrow. Inside the…
Two Poems by Mercy Musa
A Body Performing a Disappearing Act Like lace dipped in vinegar sorrowthe nature of my narcissism is translucent,this body, almost transparent, almost fading to nothingthis skin, almost disappearing, almost syncing to dust If only I could hold light in the…