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.
Showing 34–36 of 92 resultsSorted by latest
What poets have to say to one who is about to commit suicide.
NYSC is full of experiences. ‘Missing’ is a work of fiction woven around the lives of ‘Corpers’ and explores friendship, independence politics & adventure.
In a fleeting moment of curiousity, a female National Youth service Corps member is abducted. In the days that follow, she and her friends uncover a mind boggling conspiracy.
Set in Benin – Nigeria, Missing is a thrilling story that keeps you riveted till the end.
Follow @simi_stories on IG to reach out to Simi (the author). Please check your email for a download link.
“Honest art will open the doors of more than a few hearts, and this is a fact recognised by Ada Esom. In ‘A Collection of Golden Poetry’, the Dark Fiction and Astrology enthusiast reels out eleven poems that explore the human condition from a more internal perspective. In this body of work, the author of ‘Daemoniac’ and ‘All She Wrote’ talks about life from the lens of a jaded lover, a lonely soul, a scared youngster and a long-silenced woman.
“‘Maleficent’ takes after a fantasy movie from years prior but could just as well be illustrating the image of a no-nonsense woman, ‘Sixteen Candles’ is a poem about yearning for an absent lover, ‘The Ghosts of Yesterday’ tells the story of an individual caught in the vice grip of painful past memories, while ‘Gleeful Captive’ and ‘Unabashedly Yours, Truly’ put in succinct detail what it means to fall hard in love even in the face of uncertainty.”
<
p style="text-align: right">Jerry Chiemeke, winner, 2017 Ken Saro Wiwa Prize for Reviews.
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...
YESSSSS
