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	<title>Naija Stories &#187; Website Launch</title>
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		<title>Looking Out The Window</title>
		<link>http://www.naijastories.com/2011/01/looking-out-the-window-2/</link>
		<comments>http://www.naijastories.com/2011/01/looking-out-the-window-2/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 02 Jan 2011 19:30:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Richard-Ali</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Editor's Picks]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Website Launch]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Far away from Kaduna, the smell of roasting cashews, surfing the morning air, assails the clean-shaven boy featherly. Framed by the barred windows, he looks beyond the walls of the house, far above the trees, and though his eyes at their farthest never leave the pleasant green spread of palm trees and cashew trees, he <a href='http://www.naijastories.com/2011/01/looking-out-the-window-2/' class='excerpt-more'>Read More</a>]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>7</slash:comments>
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		<title>Durosinmi</title>
		<link>http://www.naijastories.com/2011/01/durosinmi-2/</link>
		<comments>http://www.naijastories.com/2011/01/durosinmi-2/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 02 Jan 2011 13:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Olakitike</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Editor's Picks]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Website Launch]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[She says she is leaving you, not coming back ever. But all you can do now is stare at her breasts, or at the blouse that covers them. Breasts you know are encased in a brassiere you bought for her last month. Last month when you gleefully celebrated fifteen years of married life. That afternoon <a href='http://www.naijastories.com/2011/01/durosinmi-2/' class='excerpt-more'>Read More</a>]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>24</slash:comments>
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		<title>New Dawn on the Twin edge</title>
		<link>http://www.naijastories.com/2011/01/new-dawn-on-the-twin-edge/</link>
		<comments>http://www.naijastories.com/2011/01/new-dawn-on-the-twin-edge/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 02 Jan 2011 07:30:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>RemiRoy</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Editor's Picks]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Website Launch]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[remi-roy]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[The wind howled as the rain fell fast. It was already pitch dark outside, even though the sun had barely slept. The candle had gone out. Ngozi got up and lit the oil lamp. Her husband lay beside her, sleeping soundly, snoring lightly. She sat up, her back against the wall, her heart pounding with <a href='http://www.naijastories.com/2011/01/new-dawn-on-the-twin-edge/' class='excerpt-more'>Read More</a>]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>18</slash:comments>
		</item>
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		<title>Angels and superheroes</title>
		<link>http://www.naijastories.com/2011/01/angels-and-superheroes-2/</link>
		<comments>http://www.naijastories.com/2011/01/angels-and-superheroes-2/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Jan 2011 08:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>ifeanyi-ogbo</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Editor's Picks]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Website Launch]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[we may not have wings but with love we could lift everyone who is broken and helpless. golden robes may not be ours but with our actions we can radiate and outshine the finest gold. we may not have magical swords to fight the villains but within us lies an ocean of light and goodness <a href='http://www.naijastories.com/2011/01/angels-and-superheroes-2/' class='excerpt-more'>Read More</a>]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>8</slash:comments>
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		<title>We Must Fight!</title>
		<link>http://www.naijastories.com/2011/01/we-must-fight-2/</link>
		<comments>http://www.naijastories.com/2011/01/we-must-fight-2/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Jan 2011 07:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>BOB</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Editor's Picks]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Website Launch]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Boots and lethal steels trudged into the village Spilling shells and causing raging rampage Aged men and women groped for walking sticks While the youths ducked as the shells hit bricks A moment ago, the day had been smiling Surprisingly, it suddenly began frowning I stood confused during this frightening fracas Then a pellet brushed <a href='http://www.naijastories.com/2011/01/we-must-fight-2/' class='excerpt-more'>Read More</a>]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>5</slash:comments>
		</item>
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		<title>I Used to Love Her</title>
		<link>http://www.naijastories.com/2010/12/i-used-to-love-her-2/</link>
		<comments>http://www.naijastories.com/2010/12/i-used-to-love-her-2/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 31 Dec 2010 08:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Ejiro</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Editor's Picks]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Website Launch]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[I used to love her, I did. Africa; that lady. Beautiful and proud. I loved her in my childhood, when all I knew of her, were warmth and juicy fruits, when I was kissed gently by her sun, and it&#8217;s heat caressed me. I loved her still, Africa; that woman. Before I understood her struggles <a href='http://www.naijastories.com/2010/12/i-used-to-love-her-2/' class='excerpt-more'>Read More</a>]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://www.naijastories.com/2010/12/i-used-to-love-her-2/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>11</slash:comments>
		</item>
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		<title>On the Hot Seat</title>
		<link>http://www.naijastories.com/2010/12/on-the-hot-seat-2/</link>
		<comments>http://www.naijastories.com/2010/12/on-the-hot-seat-2/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 31 Dec 2010 07:30:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Sylva-Ifedigbo</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Editor's Picks]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fiction]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Website Launch]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[The studio went dim, and then there was that sound that has become the trademark of the game show. Then it was all silent. I felt my grip on the arms of the black swivel chair popularly known as the hot seat, tighten. “The next question is for one million” the moderator said, his eyes <a href='http://www.naijastories.com/2010/12/on-the-hot-seat-2/' class='excerpt-more'>Read More</a>]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://www.naijastories.com/2010/12/on-the-hot-seat-2/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>21</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Without Notice</title>
		<link>http://www.naijastories.com/2010/12/without-notice-2/</link>
		<comments>http://www.naijastories.com/2010/12/without-notice-2/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 03 Dec 2010 07:05:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>The-Bookaholic</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Editor's Picks]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Website Launch]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Early ’93 My name is Tito. I am the smallest girl on the street, too tiny for my age. I am ten. I’m also the worst tomboy—I don’t weave my hair; don’t wear skirts; hate the kitchen and don’t play hand games. I love to play with boys. That was how I met Tiwa and <a href='http://www.naijastories.com/2010/12/without-notice-2/' class='excerpt-more'>Read More</a>]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://www.naijastories.com/2010/12/without-notice-2/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>25</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Cross Roads</title>
		<link>http://www.naijastories.com/2010/11/cross-roads-2/</link>
		<comments>http://www.naijastories.com/2010/11/cross-roads-2/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 29 Nov 2010 08:22:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Damilola-Ajayi</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Website Launch]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[abortion]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[student]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[We approached the senate floor, a crowd of sweaty students dressed in our night clothes, armed with tree branches and leaves, singing our aluta songs,”&#8230;solidarity forever/ solidarity forever/ we shall always fight for our rights!” Our entrance into the senate building was forced, and as we crammed into the small space, the general consensus was <a href='http://www.naijastories.com/2010/11/cross-roads-2/' class='excerpt-more'>Read More</a>]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://www.naijastories.com/2010/11/cross-roads-2/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>10</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Monologue</title>
		<link>http://www.naijastories.com/2010/11/monologue-2/</link>
		<comments>http://www.naijastories.com/2010/11/monologue-2/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 27 Nov 2010 04:28:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>DoreenMaria</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Website Launch]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[pregnancy]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[I am pregnant. For a married man. There, I’ve said it, out loud for all to hear. For every individual I have ever met to have their fill; raining curses and abuses on me. For my mother to weep and ask “Why Temitope? Why?” Like I can answer that question! For my father to shake <a href='http://www.naijastories.com/2010/11/monologue-2/' class='excerpt-more'>Read More</a>]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://www.naijastories.com/2010/11/monologue-2/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>19</slash:comments>
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