I remember the first time I saw my father hit my mother. We were seated around the dining table having breakfast. My parents were arguing about something, their voices low, when suddenly, my father leaped out of his chair and in...
Read MoreNana was telling us the story of the sun and the moon today. Rana and Wata. Nana’s Hausa was spoken like she was the first student of the gods of the kanem Bornu empire. Even when she was wrong, it was difficult to tell...
Read MoreDoes it still hurt? Does it still hurt? Did it...
Read MoreElegy of a Boy who fell off the Cliff. Below the white linen on the medical barrow are putrid wounds; Of torn flesh, smashed marrows and stretched meat. The ruins and remains of a fall from four ten feet Of a faceless boy who...
Read MoreI am fine. The sadness in me finds no expression, So I paint a smile on my face While the sadness festers, Rotting the core of my being. Still, I wear the plastered smile of a happy chap, Always replying, “I am...
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