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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The healer is a scriptural historical fiction novel showing two families in a seemingly hopeless situation.
What happens when the only one who could help seemed to procrastinate the healing of one for another?
‘A Rose For My Country’ is a collection of 18 beautiful poems on recent and contemporary massacres, bombings and rioting in Nigeria from 1967 till date.
The collection is a wakeup call to affected and non-affected Nigerians as they may just wake up one morning and find their skin ripped off from their body.
It’s also an eye opener on how far the rate of massacres and bombings has immensely increased in Nigeria from late 1960s till date with concrete records of places, time and dates where these happened with deep metaphors describing the scenes, and how victims were victimized.
A rose for my country is a collection of poems every Nigerian should lay hands on, so as not to be left in the dark, waiting for light, sometimes we need to fit in God’s shoes to create them.
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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It was 6:23 pm, and he was still on his work desk. Life and work balance has been a mirage so far for him. He has to slave, if he wants to eat. “Yusuf, the presentation should be ready before 7 am tomorrow. I cannot fall behind schedule, you know this is very...
After School: An Anthology . . . I held the pen to write, lividly. The pen had a rope tied to it, an unattractive one. “This bank people self. I will trust you people with my money, all of it. But you can’t trust me with your pen. Ordinary Pen! Hay God! Evil people...
Writing is Easy.... Until you're trying to get something out of your mind and you're having clogs wishing it became even easier but no, it keeps clustering and the words become too heavy to be sifted hence you're all in your mind talking to yourself about how you...
Have you ever wondered why you give up so easily when pursuing an endeavor that has been benefitting the people around you? Have you ever wondered why it seems you can't get past the initial start up phase? Have you ever wondered why you have a long list of unfinished...
Junne: .....I am the girl who wants more and I think you're too laid back Chuck: I'm the guy who wonders.... Wonder why she thinks I'm laid back but then, I just got back... Junne: He is so ordinary. It was a different him that day at the Park. With a...
Who is a protagonist? The protagonist is simply the character that the story revolves around. While there are other important characters, major and minor, two things might happen to a story if the main character dies; 1, the story ends and 2, a new main character...
Sophia kept running without looking back, not even to check the liquid that flowed from her. At first, it felt cold, and then it became sticky as it found its way to her feet. She was losing her strength and indeed her life with every stride. All she wanted was to get...
11:01 AM The sun was up ahead yet the ground was cold. Birds circled in the sky above. Dancing, diving and getting lost in the veil of cloud then reappearing in another while I watched, my body too heavy to move. Dizzy and weak, eyelids fluttering every minute, their...
How do you tell your husband you don't love him anymore? That you probably never did. That somewhere along the line when you turned 22 and he asked you to marry him, you just went with it cause otherwise would have been unseemly. You fell naturally into the role of a...
Kate sat alone on a long concrete chair by the sidewalk clutching her hair to her neck. A cold evening breeze blew across the lonely road spattering leaves from tall mahogany trees which she gently brushed off her satchel bag and her toned skin. She had just left Mrs....
