Itanile is a literary brand that provides a platform for African writers to publish stories they want to tell about the African experience. We are committed to developing new audiences for African literature. We provide a storytelling platform that connects African writers with their readers
We’ve hosted and led impact-driven creative and literary projects through collaborative effort. Our global community is always growing to reach more and do more.
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The healer is a scriptural historical fiction novel showing two families in a seemingly hopeless situation.
What happens when the only one who could help seemed to procrastinate the healing of one for another?
‘A Rose For My Country’ is a collection of 18 beautiful poems on recent and contemporary massacres, bombings and rioting in Nigeria from 1967 till date.
The collection is a wakeup call to affected and non-affected Nigerians as they may just wake up one morning and find their skin ripped off from their body.
It’s also an eye opener on how far the rate of massacres and bombings has immensely increased in Nigeria from late 1960s till date with concrete records of places, time and dates where these happened with deep metaphors describing the scenes, and how victims were victimized.
A rose for my country is a collection of poems every Nigerian should lay hands on, so as not to be left in the dark, waiting for light, sometimes we need to fit in God’s shoes to create them.
A young boy from a family of four is faced with a difficult family dilemma just as every other member of his family is. His father had decided to add to
the family in a way that posed a threat to other members of the family; and while his mum seemed helpless, the boy alongside his brother was
determined to distort his father’s intended move. The young boy had a scary dream that morning and that only compounded his worry. He suddenly realized that the situation at hand was more complex than he could have imagined it to be.
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I remember being with a friend who talked about how she used pain to suppress pain. She gave me an example where she had had a stomach ache and had pinched herself, saying that the latter brought a certain kind of pain that was sharp enough to distract her from...
The Magazine entries for "Wings to Fly" have been come in waves! We have however found these gems. They'll be moving on to the next stage. CFWriterz is thrilled to announce the shortlist for the 2018 Dec. Freedom Magazine Award.The following eighteen pieces...
LIFE AND MEDALS “I ALWAYS BELIEVE I CAN BE THE BEST, ACHIEVE THE BEST. I ALWAYS SEE MYSELF IN THE TOP POSITION.” _ SERENA WILLIAMS. The above statement was made by Serena Jameka Williams, an American professional tennis player, ranked No. 1 in singles on...
I loved my mother. She was my father’s typical script, playing roles that were directed only by patriarchy. My mother fitted perfectly into his constrained perception of what a woman should be; the type that says ‘you can only be seen but can’t be heard’. She was such...
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 one forceful movement, reached down and...
Nana 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 and she seemed to hold her head high when she...
Does it still hurt? Does it still hurt? Did it feel like fire ants settling on your...
Elegy 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 tipped off the cliff bounds; Down through...
I 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 good," "Everything is fine " "It's nothing_, never mind."...
Upon This Road I have been walking upon this road longer than I can remember, all I know is that I am a peripatetic mosaic of tales held in place by colourful tears and granulated dreams mixed with an adhesive of pains that sear me to the bone I cannot but notice the...
