Promoting AFRICAN LIT

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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ITANILE EBooks/DOWNLOADS

  • The writers in this issue have taken the decision to shape the dialogue of the day by continuing to write. In doing so, these writers have opened new doors to all sorts of conversations about everyday living. They have also given us stories that make us gasp delightedly, cry and laugh. Such was my experience reading them. Through the stories, I was reminded of our shared humanity. I was also prompted to remember our complexities as humans. In the end, I found myself gaining fresh perspectives.

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    “The More You Look” is a compendium of very beautifully written African plays designed to shoot you to the moon and possibly leave you stranded there.

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  • Amirah Al Wassif is an eye-opener. Her poetry pulls no punches – a vision of a world turned on its head, through no fault of those who must reside there. These are the words of one who has experienced more than her age would indicate.

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ITANILE PUBLICATIONS

The Death of a Man

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

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

     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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