Someday In a rickety danfo, you will tell your daughter, you met her father. Her dimpled cheeks will be pulled in a grin and with her father’s brazenness, she will tell you how that meeting must have been horrible. “Nobody would want to meet their spouse that way. I mean I wouldn’t—when I’m old enough, …
To Love One More Time Miriam choked on the akara she ate when Mrs. Wells called her a brute. “Me a brute? Then I presume you’re worse than I am because you’re older and of course, you’re my aunt.” She chuckled and drank some apple juice, willing that her aunt let her eat in peace. …
She Wouldn’t Leave. Hannah stomped her feet, moving from one pillar to another, swinging her head back and forth like a pendulum bulb. She stood by a pillar, held it with both hands, and shook it as though she could pull down the temple with her strength. Letting go of the pillar, she spun about …
Canterbury, 1824 Fanny would slit her throat with a blade. Crouched on a bench, by the cottage, she turned the huswife everyway, contemplating her decision just one last time. No one would miss her, not even Mother. She scowled, remembering Mother’s face wrinkled from both age and rancor. Her bitter voice always echoed Fanny’s shortcomings, …
To Live Again Nathan picked up his phone, calling Uche. “Have you seen the mail from Pritzker?” “Which Pritzker?” Uche sounded sleepy. Nathan asked Uche to look through the firm’s email, and Uche doing so, shouted “Wow! This feels like I am dreaming. But are you sure it’s not a scam?” “I looked through their …
Total reading Time: 7 minutes Nathan, biting his lip, looked to the side mirror and pulled to a stop, reaching Falomo. The woman dropped and was hurrying off, when he honked and handed her two thousand Naira―an afterthought. Last thing he wanted was her thinking he was a ritualist and that he wanted to hypnotize …
Total Reading Time:10 minutes Nothing was more chaotic than traffic in Lagos on a Monday morning following a rainy night. Drivers would honk impatiently, bypassing water-filled potholes as medicine sellers perched at corners of bus stops with microphones in hand, boasted of how the drugs they sold at ridiculously cheap prices cured every sickness. Traders …
This Time of the Year You’d see me twirling a bauble as Mother hummed a song and chopped cassava leaves in the kitchen. I’d be perched on a stool passing whatever she needed while she stood, working by the countertop. Our house would be enveloped with the smell of fried fish balls, strong as the …
Throwback to my first ever attempt at Flash Fiction writing. Of course I tweaked this piece a little, but it still tells the same story as the previous. “Burn her! Burn her!” The angry mob yelled, every voice echoing bitter hunger for retribution. A stench of horror held in the air. Some agberos approached the …