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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This Anthology of Love and other beautiful tales is a collection of short stories that challenge conventional narratives of what romance is all about.
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(Downloads - 1047)
The Magazine is ABSOLUTELY FREE. You may however choose to donate/give. Enjoy!
NOTE: Please use a different browser if you have difficulty downloading. Preferably UCBrowser or Chrome.
I don't understand men who respect their mothers like nobody's business but disrespect their wives just as much. If you've seen a woman struggle through pregnancy, you would understand that it takes a lot of devotion to choose such a predicament for anybody. I have...
"All women are witches." All women are too emotional, women are this and that. Maybe women would forever remain a mystery to us. To this world. Or. Maybe you could share your unique perspective on women. It's International Women's Day on March 8. Tell us a story about...
The dark clouds for so long became The daylight sky I only know, No moonlight nor sun for a game Nor stars to shine the path I tow, Yet Undaunted embers shimmered. Down came the rain of grief upon Me ; with starry eyes and frail knees pondering the goings-on To a...
It is difficult to understand why humanity is so divided despite boasting the same characteristics. Writing on the subject of "races", one is confronted with the challenge of methodology—whether to approach it from a religious perspective or scientific. The former...
The cfwriterz platform is honoured to present awardees for the month of January. As a way to recognize literary prowess, we have a monthly award section that applauds creativity, style, elegance and diversity. We have awards in the Fiction, Nonfiction and Poetry...
Bound by horrid sorrowful chains, My heartbeat is riddled with pains, I try to seek comfort in memories, They wander instead in nomadic melodies, And as such time, my soul wants bliss, All I hear within and without is, Whispers, such quietness, Hush puffs of words,...
They called me "Striker." He was called "Mature." The rule of play was; should the ball go over the fence, whoever it touched last, would go after it. This was the way football had been played in the lodge before I came in, everybody kept to it. Mature, was a gang...
Life is a mall of chances Set with ranges of choices A survival for all a sundry To carve a future that starry All exist with the crave for love and money For an abode flowing with milk and honey A world of uncertainties we live in Nothing is certain we bleed...
When I was seven years old, I asked my mother why the jar of palm oil on her kitchen shelf was never full. She said, "Pray for God's blessings child". So I prayed and prayed to God for Him to open the floodgates of His kingdom so my mother's jar of palm oil would be...
On a usual day, when you get to the village of Umuchu, there is a maze with a nexus connecting the dirt roads and here, it is easy to lose your way. The path in proximity to where there is a cluster of market women of all grades— prating, haggling, buying and selling—...
