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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.
(Downloads - 156)
I’m pleased to say that it felt like home journeying to the birth of this book. Of course home is where the “art” is. This chapbook contains 20 poems scribed from the very core of my heart.
“Dancing With The Tides” sends a message or talks about the need to being in equilibrium with the happenings in the world and not to be too attached to one specifically.
(Downloads - 79)
Abebi
Cries of a baby
Tears of Iya Abebi
Evil some people call life
Isn’t it darkness that brought her to life?
At birth she takes a sweet full
Colostrum it is called
Nigeria, I call Abebi
Iya, I call her forefathers
Abebi did not grow like others
When a father drinks the milk,
of the child
Doesn’t the child’s belly get bigger?
Abebi did not take in
Enough milk while growing,
even though, filled with milk and honey
Abebi is now weaned on garri
There was a post on the CFW GROUP about writer's being creators, I promised to address Falusi Opeoluwa on her comment: "when I was very young, I loved to write. At the age of eight, I wrote many undelivered letters, wrote anything in words, I loved it. At the age of...
Ade was ministering in the choir, when he saw a woman walk into the church, she looked like a wingless angel. She was average height, physically fit, and had a pretty face, with fake hair that flowed down her shoulders. In that moment, he knew in his heart that he had...
“Who is he? Do you know him?”Ruth asked curiously from behind as she came to stand beside me. “Jummy, what are you doing here?”My uncle found his voice at last and I had the satisfaction of seeing sweats bead on his forehead. “Can someone tell me what is going on...
“Do you think I’m in love with him, Ruth?”I asked with a frown on Monday morning. I have told Deji that I will give him a definite answer today, though he wasn’t too happy about it, probably at the fact that I didn’t jump at the offer but I was able to convince him...
The unwritten codes of existence dictate that all humans must contend for sameness, equality or balance. The variables of our existence dwell in an unending tug of war; the stronger side wins, but never absolutely. The victory wanes and gravitates to the stronger side...
It was two weeks after the break-up with Tunde and I was still reeling from the shock and the betrayal. “Look, jummy.Please try and forget this idiot of a man. He is not worth a thought from you. I’ve wished leprosy and all sort of illness on him every morning and he...
It was a Friday once again and my best day out of the whole week but this particular Friday was very special. I have this dream look on my face throughout the week and have trouble concentrating on my work. It got so bad that my best friend and colleague, Ruth...
Chidi ‘s eyes roved over the match lineup board, his biro and jotter in hand. This was going to be the day. He thought. The Champion’s league was finally about to start, The line up could not be any more predictable, PSG versus Barcelona, and Benfica versus Borussia...
Written by Oluwatosin Fatade If you’re a single Nigerian and staring effortlessly at your late 20s, you most definitely have been told to get married whether you’re male or female; or you must have been asked to show the future spouse. The question that cannot but...
It's been three hours, four minutes and twenty seconds after the priest declared us man and wife. Stan's kiss still lingered on my lips and butterflies ran around in my stomach. I was like a kid waiting for her first Christmas dress, I wondered if his Penis would be...
