This is not a story. This is the future as I see it or as someone said, “As I wish it.” Well, I’m in my house, on a Saturday morning, and I’m tired of the internet and the television (though there is electricity, 24/7), so I return to the good old radio and after listening … Continue reading In the year 2023
You are… Not of an old book, scheming lies of the past as peopled of saints. You are a book of pain, scripted by old venality. Mistakes like tares have ruled the wheat, and you have become an angry man. With a mind so dusty and hazy, so musty and mazy, what is new fast … Continue reading Who are you?
“What are you doing up there?” He looked at his young friend from their normal spot, wondering why he had decided to sit atop the roof of the community centre. It had never been their spot. “What I do up here is my business. I am tired of sitting on that vault watching that old … Continue reading Three Ghosts in Search of Fun
If they call him omnipotent, the powerful creator of our world, why do some say he is also the weak Supreme Being? When people raise arms against their fellow human beings, it only demystifies the identity of God. All they are saying is, ‘God is incapable!’ How can he create the heavens and the … Continue reading God is Incapable
General Anuba sat on a big chair in the sitting room. He had a bowl of kunu in his hand. On the wall, directly above his head was a large framed picture of him. The expression on his face was similar to the expression he had in the picture. He was a hard man, always … Continue reading Soccer Loving Presido
The character is Nnu Ego. Novel, Joys of Motherhood Author, Buchi Emecheta. Nnu Ego is an epitome of the African motherhood, as it was and as it is today. Buchi Emecheta, through her novel, highlights the difficulties that women go through in their longing for children, and how much of their lifetime is spent in … Continue reading Has African Motherhood Changed?
We soaked the last garri, Yesterday or when was it? It must have been some time ago. Now the belly rumbles Calling for more tributes But kudi left home years ago Ego never loved us
The name, Sefi Atta is yet to gain international repute like Chinua Achebe or Soyinka but it does a lot in contributing fiction to African literature and the world at large. Her novel, Everything Good Will Come contributes to a new direction for the 21st century African writer. It speaks of a movement away from … Continue reading Sefi Atta said to me – Everything good will come
‘Howu!’ It said to the cobbler ‘Beaten and sapped out of strength. Take pity.’ ‘Once upon a time’, it began a story. ‘A shiny piece of leather was hard soled, gallantly priced, and smiling invisibly on the shelf of Kingsway store. We were legions, for we were many. Rooted in resemblance but different in lengths. … Continue reading The Shoe Speaks
It was a beautiful morning and the voice of the muezzin had been clearer. The shrill voice from atop the minaret roused the entire household of Professor Seye. It was a big day for the family. They were celebrating their 25 years of an enduring and interesting marital life drenched in the uncertainties and struggles … Continue reading Death on a Wedding Day
How can I stay away? Let me remain on this altar of love, in self-sacrifice of emotions. It’s nature’s fault and not mine. I love her as she loves me. Is it a fault to love? Her embrace makes me happy. I’d rather be dead than betray her love for me. Now mother thinks I … Continue reading The Girl
‘We have a mandate!’ he shouted, but his family didn’t understand what he meant. His ten-year-old son sat down munching his food, as he watched his father break for the umpteenth time, his rule about not talking while eating. His wife didn’t seem to care if he shouted at the top of his voice. ‘We … Continue reading Dining Electorates
Someone to tell me lies and say ‘I love you’ even if untrue. Someone I can call my own, and sleep peacefully on her bosom. A girl to soothe my thoughts,
Speed thrills. Speed kills. Beware! You who drive the one eyed horse, knock not on the heaven’s door, wear not the mask of demise, hear not the tune of passing, for fiery flames, await the snubbing ears.
The Hopeless said:
Hear all people,
My sour song of future tears,
The Babel curse is what we know,
That differing tongues put us apart,
And war seems our only way of peace.