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
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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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This book essentially, shows some basic tools of effective self-leadership, that when the principles are deployed as plainly highlighted, would enable the individual make a difference in his or her leadership functions.
True self-government begins with understanding the real ethics, values and good morals.
Its all about the ability to handle oneself intelligently in every matter or aspect, whether in attitude, actions, conduct, relationship, thoughts, in situations and conversation.
Lines, Crooked like the Nile is a collection of poems filled with imagery and garnished with the condiments of other necessary literary figures that make poetry what it is.
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
