The Emergency It began With the heat of the sun beneath her skin Showers of milk upon her earth The hoe swung her door open The torrent of the milk filled her cave The root beneath her earth stretched The grass upon her earth raised The grass swung to the rhythm of the wind Her … Continue reading The Emergency
There’s something about the rain. In our home, whenever anybody wastes water, my mummy sends for her cane with which she’d beat the water waster and would say, “Don’t you know that in Kenya and in Auchi they don’t have water?” Last Sunday as it rained non-stop, flooding everywhere, my mummy’s cane floated into view. … Continue reading Flooded
I hate my job! I hate it! And I wonder whose idea it was to place me on nightly duty permanently. O, the sweaty darkness! The disorienting slaps! The choking ‘death in a can’! The relentless restlessness of these bodies I’m supposed to attend – Ugh. The smell of ‘em! Such hostile creatures! Whatever happened … Continue reading The Angry Anophelesian
I punched him in the kidney, and he had to choose between being surprised and feeling faint. His eyeballs rolled behind his lids and up into his brain; on the white of his eyes, red tendrils curled into the word, ‘pain’ and his face creased into a thousand folds of agony; a thousand volts of … Continue reading The Fight
I did it with her mother to bring her forth Is it wrong to give her the heat too? How will she procreate if I don’t give her the heat? Now, she is avoiding me Me! Her only father! Who named her Sheila! I Protected her wall from breaking I fed her with love when … Continue reading Everyone says I’m mad
I punched him in the kidney, and he had to choose between being surprised and feeling faint. His eyeballs rolled behind his lids and up into his brain; on the white of his eyes, red tendrils curled into the word, ‘pain’ and his face creased into a thousand folds of agony; a thousand volts of … Continue reading The Fight
She lay in bed beside me, and slipped her palm into mine, and interlocked our fingers, giving them the carnal knowledge that she and I were forbidden. Her palm was sweaty. She lay in bed beside me and looked into my sleep-heavy eyes from behind lids the lashes of which waved like lazy flags flapping … Continue reading My Master’s Wife
It was the first week in December, and primary schools were on Christmas break. Children from the homes in the neighbourhood gathered in the playground. They divided themselves, unintentionally, into groups, based mainly on their age brackets. “Let’s have a drama,” said a bespectacled boy about ten years of age. “Okay. I want to be … Continue reading A Country of Three
THe Angry Anopheles I hate my job! I hate it! And I wonder whose idea it was to place me on nightly duty permanently. O, the sweaty darkness! The disorienting slaps! The choking ‘death in a can’! The relentless restlessness of these bodies I’m supposed to attend – Ugh. The smell of ‘em! … Continue reading The Angry Anophelesian
He strolled into the office, clad in a suit cut to fit only him; he cut an image of the next Mr. Nigeria, and feminine jaws hit the floor. He was the devil-in-the-workplace kind of guy. And he knew it. Later that day, he was escorted from desk to desk where he introduced himself as … Continue reading The Devil I Know
He danced as the crowd cheered him on. He danced the way he’d danced himself into the heart of this fair maiden whom he’d slept with, whom he’d got pregnant, whom he was dancing to marry, for whom he danced in shame, their secret acts laid bare as the village elders took the bride prize … Continue reading Dance
I once was at a symposium, where I was to give a lecture. It happened that I had a couple of acquaintances present, who refered to me, in every sentence they made, as ‘Doctor.’ Some minutes before I was due on stage, a stranger rushed at me, and whispered, through gritted teeth, that his wife … Continue reading Doc!
By the time you’re done reading this, I want you to remember this saying: “Every saint has a past; every sinner has a future.” *** My future is long-begun, and when I look at the past, I’m not trying to find absolution. Instead, I hope to find understanding of how the past has led me … Continue reading Last Job
The sky. The sea. The shore. My feet, With them I stand upon the sands And watch the sun mount Into the morning. I’ve stopped imagining My daughter Yawning, Or building castles, Or swimming in the pool, Or flying a paper kite. My toes. The sands. The waves. The clouds, They drift As I would … Continue reading Castaway
There she floats, brooding upon the surface of the airwaves, deep, a convincing conveyor of the spirits of the letters of the writs. And… there she gloats, aglow with the pride of a prince’s bride; dark of hide, yet ablush. Aflush with innocence, but… there she bloats at the mid-sec, full of seed and taut … Continue reading Lydia