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ITANILE MAG

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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Find some of the most Relevant lit voices in our community

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.

ITANILE EBooks/DOWNLOADS

  • Love and Tears

    ₦500.00     Sold By : Okwuasaba David

    Love and Tears
    ₦500.00

    The woman beside her was chubby and rounded and the wrappa around her waist was hostile to the brown blouse she wore. Her head-tie was faded beige and had fallen off to the ground. Her head was shaking vehemently in rebuke and her body in total rebuff of surrender. The woman kept on bustling in roars; Obara Jesus! Obara Jesus! with her hands striding in very ridiculous rhythm.

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  • My Six Little Fears

    ₦3,000.00     Sold By : Itanile

    My Six Little Fears
    ₦3,000.00 Add to basket
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  • PRISMS 2: Itanile Magazine 2022, Issue 10

    ₦0.00     Sold By : Itanile

    PRISMS 2: Itanile Magazine 2022, Issue 10
    ₦0.00

    When we invited writers for this Issue, submissions of any theme or genre were welcomed, but especially so for works that explore the concept of journeys through the lenses of travels and tours―what it means to travel, to seek out new places. To write a story or a poem or an essay, writes Garth Greenwell, is to make a claim about what we find beautiful, about what moves us, to reveal a vision of the world, which the writers in this Issue have done with their work.

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ITANILE PUBLICATIONS

The Death of a Man

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The Death of a Man My sister can look at a man and see ifthe shadow of his death colours his face.The folds of his wrinkles he earned from the sun,black like his hair, blacker than his teeth—broken,blacker than the hole where he digs for goldfor a man not black like...

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Eleven Forms of Death

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the sun will try to walk your body into fired clay as you scribble your emptiness in the pain of a dying dog.   the night turns a name into a soft prayer.   bodies float in streams in search of fear.   silence is also broken by thoughts of men.   you drink your griefs...

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The Growth #Dec2018

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     I eased myself gently into the old, brown sofa in the sitting room, my hands on my sore back. My dirty white eyes settled on the aged brown clock hanging obediently on the wall. The seconds hand moved round and round but did not return my stare. It just was not...

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