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Nnamdi.

I watch him. He’s sitting on a stool with his head leaned sideways against the wall, arms folded. I look him over; he needs to go to the barber. I need to take him to the barber. I think he feels my eyes on him because he lifts his head and turns towards me. Our eyes meet.

‘’Are you hungry Mummy?’’

He says this giggling because what he really means is ‘I’m hungry Mummy’.

‘’Yes my son, what shall you prepare for Mummy?’’

He squeezes his face as if in deep thought. He’s squeezing real hard, yet there’s not a wrinkle. Well, of course….

Continue reading Nnamdi.

To Virginia and Back (Part 1)

The moderately overweight Indian cab driver with thick bushy black hair horned again. Tears trickled down her perfectly chiseled face as she hit the send button on her phone. She looked around the room to make sure she wasn’t forgetting anything. Her shadow cast a beautiful silhouette against the sky blue walls of her room. She grabbed her yellow cardigan from the edge of her bed and hurriedly rolled her luggage out of the room. She paused in the grand foyer to look at the family photographs that adorned the walls in beautifully ornamented and carefully arranged picture frames. She

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My French teacher had an Igbo accent

Whoever invented school must have been crazy.

I always wondered why I had to spend the first 16 years of my life doing what I just hated.

My aversion to school started from my early days on earth.

Myth has it that I knew how to walk at 8 months but didn’t display the skill until I was just about one.

My refusal to walk was borne out of fear of starting school.

Then I started play class.

I was quite big as a child and my teachers always assumed I was at least 2 years older than my mates

Whenever I wee-weed in my pants, they said I

Continue reading My French teacher had an Igbo accent

WHEN I SEE YOU

When I look at you I see not a girl but a princess

You make me feel totally senseless

You make my nights sleepless

And I can’t help feeling so helpless

When I touch you I feel not a woman but an angel

You make my head spin so well

That I wish to the heavens I could yell

And the very future I could foretell

When I kiss you I kiss not lips but honey

You make me so damn horny

And I wish I could on you spend my money

Without at all feeling stupid or funny

When we make love I see not your body but that of a

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A Conversation with ‘Nights of the Creaking Bed’

Just like the blurb rightly puts it, Toni Kan’s Nights of the Creaking Bed is full of colourful characters and as well, in my own opinion, interesting issues. These (characters and issues) come alive and die with various themes explored by the narratives. The author successfully merges the issues of the day in Nigeria with the typical Nigerian character: rough and rugged; hopeful but pessimistic; loving but lustful; meek but deadly. The writer weaves corruption, intolerance, violence and parental irresponsibility around the forbidden matter of sex. Thus, in every narration, there is an iota of sex. We will therefore examine

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Loving Thoughts of You

Seating down at the end of each day
After the days activities the sounds afar off
The cock crow, birds and water bodies
The moon about to go to bed
As the stars emerges out to rules the night

Adding beauty to the sky
The cool breeze of the night
Lost in the thought of you
Sweet and splendid thought
Of the time we had and share together

Loving thoughts
Of an angel so charming and loving
The scent of her smile oozing out
The perfume so captivating
The looking in her eyes as of an angel

Movement of her lips
As she

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MY JOURNEY

I FAILED YOU
I had followed my plans joyfully
And made ways in others steps
I had run my race fearfully
And truly thought I’d made it

After all is said and done
I had failed many my purpose
After the race had been borne
I had found there’s more to life

The purpose of God I kept behind
And trace my step to face
The light I’ve seen were so kind
And uselessness I had made it

I have seen my justification is naught
For this day my step I retrace
I have understood my failure is bought
For through knowledge, vision

Continue reading MY JOURNEY

HUMPH! I CHUCKLE

Slowly, I wake.  I inhale the forest air.  I pick up one of my five water coconuts.  I bring it to my nose.  I slowly smile.  I am little.  I have a big smile.  I look around the bareness of my home.  I chuckle.  I eat up my water.  I toss away my coconut.  I see it startle the birds in the tree.  I watch it disturb the lizards on the floor of the little jungle.  I chuckle.  I descend fallen stairs.  I stop midway.  I laugh.  “Look at me!  I am nothing!” My voice echoes.  Ugly asymmetrical countenance and

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Streaks of sunlight at dawn 4

“Someone tell me how you deal with a past you have never wanted to deal with but keeps dealing with you? I know, it doesn’t make sense what I just said. But it does. How in heavens do I handle this whole Nigeria visit?”

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Athena’s day typically starts with an early morning jog. Not that she was so much of a health buff, she just liked the way the day unfolded before her. She always said, if she had chosen to settle in New York, it would have been Manhattan. She could afford it and it would have fit perfectly. But

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Online Interactive Writing Workshop: Review of 'Ayoka's Two Worlds'

As promised, a selection has been made as to which story will be selected for the review that will serve as the basis for the workshop for this week. ‘Ayoka’s Two Worlds‘ by Lawal Opeyemi Isaac has been chosen, and below is the review done by Tola Odejayi.

Again, as mentioned in the earlier announcement, we hope that everyone will take part in making comments on the story, as well as making comments on the comments that Tola made on the story. Please feel free to air your agreements/disagreements or other perspectives that you may have. We also hope that Lawal

Continue reading Online Interactive Writing Workshop: Review of ‘Ayoka’s Two Worlds’