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.
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In seven chapters, the narrator in this expository comic tell stories, story after story of the trending and laughable events on TwitterNg. While it appears to be ‘just for the laughs’, the narrator also exposes readers to deep memories of grief and loss experienced in the street.
The poet takes us on a journey along the palm-fringed beaten earth roads of his childhood home in rural Sierra Leone. Travelling with Ibrahim from boyhood to adulthood, from lonely forest paths to the teeming ghettos of Freetown
The works featured in the Prism issue have told a variety of truths. In May the Thirtieth, the poet writes, “I come from a place / where we are closest to sunrise”. You, the reader, could argue the veracity of this admittance.
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Kenny and Kate used to be the best pals at work. They were employed together at GTBank, and they both worked hard to become successful. While Kenny planned on becoming an entrepreneur, Kate saved as much as she can, every month, towards a single project: to travel...
One pirate walked towards me. He stopped a little distance from where I stood. Figuring he was their leader, I sized him up quickly. He had a sword at his side, a dagger in his hand. His clothes looked like a mad man's, the black hat on his head covered the top of the...
It had been a dream. Thank God. I looked around me, it was still dark and the uncompleted building where I slept creaked noisily as the rain beat on it from every side. I was used to the darkness. Hell, I even loved it. But something was not right tonight. I tried not...
The Uyo breeze sashays into my nostrils, minty, and earthy. Beyonce Knowles Rise up blares from my black ear piece. Her soprano is like piano keys. Soft, crying, and moaning. I am typing my keyboard like a master pianist. Typing the keys with the music tunes. Softly....
there are memories that brings us home. I hold you in my heart like veins holding blood. along the sands of Agadez it is the thought of you That runs through my heart keeps it alive and fuels every beat. the wind of Agadez brings your wet scent to me. a smile etches...
It's been part of the cfwriterz goals to bring learning and networking opportunities to writers in the cfwriterz group. We recently got connected to Monica Kunzekweguta; the CEO of Authors without boundaries. She has inspired a lot of people with her work and what...
They say it is raining, but my mother would say the sky is crying. Once, when I was very little, my mother told me about the origin of rains. She said in the beginning Chukwu created the rivers, the seas, the earth, and the trees. And when He saw that the earth needed...
Walking without company is always the most boring thing ever. Climbing with company is the most riskiest venture ever, because every man is his own support. You don’t have to put your lifeline on someone’s. I am flighty and dreamy. I see one thing and it fascinates...
I woke up in the early hours of the day one morning in December wondering who had become my benefactor overnight. Just last night, I struggled to find some sleep after countless baths and an inevitable stripping, I finally made it to the roof tops when all else...
-Happy Place- The first and the last one A welcome flash of thought Wherever I may go I'll make it back to you On days I don't return I'll always find your kind Or at least dream of you Caressing my spent cells Your lifeless static form As loyal as can be Is all I...
