She is a ghost of her former self, but she is still in the land of the living, a land that time forgot, a time of angels, a time of traumatic circumstances. She is a tragic beauty in a state of personal turmoil and crisis. There is no time like the future to seal my fate, she thinks with growing uncertainty. Her unquiet spirit began to move across the timeline of her unhappy adult life and childhood with a razor sharp edge. She watched her former self smoking cigarette after cigarette each one dashed into the ashtray, and remembered the unbearable nervousness of that night... Full Story
And he began to run. Later on, he found that he was also running now and David and Raghu joined him. They tripped and leaped over a barbed wire into the mosque on Panchkuia Road. From the tower, the bell tolled forlornly and a man in a long robe wearing a straw cap came out of the top, with his fingers in the holes of his ears and screamed: ‘Allah-ho-Akkbar! Allah-ho-Akkbar! Ashadu-Allah-illah-illahu...’ Unlatched, everyone thronged into the mosque and the three of them - the American and Indian ambassadors - ran in through the back of the mosque... Full Story
It was late. The remains of our supper had been cleared away by the silent woman who had brought the food to us some hours previously. All three of us had stayed together in Garuba's room watching videos and talking generally. I talked about life in Lagos and the south and how what I had seen of the north so far seemed very different from the south, which I was used to. They talked about how they perceived Southerners and how people from the south of the country seemed to be so much more westernised than they were... Full Story
‘May I know your name?’ The very last question anyone would expect to hear from a fellow driver on the highway. The girl isn’t sure she heard right. ‘What?’ she throws back at the stunningly handsome face peeping at her from the biggest SUV she’s ever seen on the roads, even in America where such cars are common place. ‘I want to know who you are!’ screamed the young man from the little aperture he has created by winding down the window of his air-conditioned Jeep... Full Story
The girl stood by the side of the road, her skirt lifted up to her stomach, her womanhood exposed. She gesticulated insanely at her private parts, while sticking her tongue out, and as the truck passed her by she ran after it for a few metres. Amai Tafadzwa craned her neck to try and see whether what she was seeing was true, but the girl was out of view. She turned her head to her husband and asked, ”And that, Baba Tafi, and that, what was that?” The shock in her voice clearly evident, coming out as it did in a screeching high tone above the engines of the big truck... Full Story
The sun was blazing overhead. The chekeleke seasonal migrating birds were chirping ecstatically, arrowing into the bright skies. I made a neat bundle of my possessions and swung it over my shoulders. In quietude, I picked my way through the wooded land. Here at last, lost among the towering trees, I began to think differently of my decision to leave Ibono. I began to think if I were not wiser giving up the whole idea. For now I was alone, my courage deserted me, and all the horror stories told about the Layan woods... Full Story
Radic squeezed through a gap in an air-vent. His passage and that of the millions before him had scoured and burnished it smooth and bright around its edges. Inside the lobby it was dark and greasy from the cooking that took place below it. Radic quietly took his place in the line of diner's. From this point on there was to be no talking at all, battle-rules applied until one exited again – hopefully alive and well-fed. Though this diner, Diner Ten, was well known for both its safety and good food... Full Story
Kweku Kyere whistled an old hi-life tune as he shut the door and sauntered into his living room. Agyapomaa was slouched in front of the TV watching a sitcom. It was evident she hadn’t been home long; she was still dressed in her work clothes. “Hello Sweetie, how did your day go?” he called across to her cheerily. She shifted her attention from the TV and smiled at him. “It went well. And how was it at Don’s Place?”... Full Story
I almost laughed at my stupidity. How could I have missed the house all this time when it stood right here just off the gravel road? I had spent half the day driving around this village only for a little boy to stop and ask me what I was looking for. Yes, he knew the home I was looking for. Just a few days before, I had convinced my editor that I was about to crack the mystery of the late singer’s family... Full Story
I have given up on despising my mother. I do not have enough energy as I used to when I was much younger to take her on. Her bravado, her innuendo, all her vanities and subtleties I leave them well alone. She is still selfless, giving and elegant to the outside world but to me she is cold, composed and emotionally uninvolved in daily matters of the household. Perhaps, I think to myself, I am not what she expected... Full Story
Grace Chirima’s hard black boots crunched on the frozen ground below her. Breathing clouds of steam, she clutched her coat tighter about her as she walked through the shortcut next to the old church. At least it wasn’t raining today. I wonder what the weather is like back home today, she pondered. Would the tomatoes be ready to pick yet? It would still be a little longer before the mealies could be harvested... Full Story
Finally the tannoy crackled into life and the female voice announced to the crowded airport terminal that the flight to Jos was now ready for boarding. This flight had been delayed for 4 hours already and it came as a relief to all the passengers on this flight, as we filed into a queue and were directed towards the Nigeria Airways aeroplane far across the tarmac that was to take us on this journey from Lagos Murtala Mohammed Airport. I was excited. The moment had finally come when I was leaving home, going to that far-off place that I had always dreamt of... Full Story
Nakai was a simple girl of nine. She was in the fourth grade. Her friends were Nyasha, Tsitsi and Marita. After school they would come out of the gate and begin to sing and run home. First they would turn right into Nyani Lane. There were houses on both sides of the lane. They were red brick houses with neat lawn beds in front of them for children to play. Towards the end of Nyani Lane, Nyasha would say goodbye to Nakai, Tsitsi and Marita and walk through one of the gates... Full Story
I had been lying on a reed mat, reading Julius Caesar in the shade of our tsapi hut. As soon as Brutus stabbed Caesar, I had looked away from the page to avoid picturing the sight of blood. That's when I saw a baby snake slithering towards me. At first, I thought my eyes were tricking me, so I pretended like I had not seen anything. But there it was, calmly covering ground, getting closer and closer to the mat. I jumped and screamed, but covered my mouth as soon as I remembered I was a man... Full Story
What they’ve been doing voraciously when alone suddenly came to light. He sat at a corner near a stack of books adorning a full wall of the pastor’s library. Tensed like a cornered cobra, but no one knew this. The white turtle necked velvet sweater and matching white pants, all complimented by black Fila boots betrayed a rather cocky debonair attitude. They expected him to loose today. The odds were all against him. His name was Danny. He was due to make manager of the Bank in six months... Full Story
My village Umuaki was the largest village among the six clans. That’s why the old men described it as Okeosisi (big tree). In this big tree a beautiful fruit hung. Every passer-by would want to pluck it including the Whiteman in our town, the district officer; we called him Nwadishi. He would ride in a Volkswagen car around the village. Children would happily pursue Nwadishi’s car just to touch it. Then you could hear them shouting in Ibo: "Emeturum moto Nwadishi (I touched Nwadishi’s car)."... Full Story
Had she been there she would have asked them why they were crying. She would have looked each one of them in the eye shaming them to silence with her mute accusation. Had she been there she would have laughed at their duplicity and poked fun at her aunt’s hysterics – rolling herself on the ground like that as if it would make her appear more bereaved than the rest. But that was just typical of Makhadzi, her paternal aunt, her father’s sister was one given to all manner of theatrics... Full Story
The evening was cool, and the air carried some dusty smell as a result of the earlier rainfall. Raindrops pattered on the thatched roof of the mud house in which Johnson studied, occasionally breaking into his concentration. As the rain fell, Johnson took a break from studies and peered out of the window. Johnson’s attention was drawn to his father’s grave that was outside. He wondered if any remains of his late father were still there, getting wet, as raindrops fell... Full Story
They call me the Snake. You see, I had a difficult childhood, but I’ve almost always demonstrated an uncanny gift of coming out of seemingly hopeless situations. They say I am slippery, maybe I am. This is my story. I was only ten years old when my father took me and my mother along with him to Abuja to buy the goods he sold. It was the first time me or my mother had made that journey. I guess my father must have come across a huge windfall and decided to use that opportunity to show us the roads without potholes he had always told us about... Full Story
The year is 1978. More than two weeks back soldiers had visited our school. Chief Zimbiti had sent word around. The Headmaster had reaffirmed it when we assembled towards the end of one day. Everyone was supposed to attend without failure. His last words were “all children dismissed.”
“Away!” We shouted in a chorus and ran in different directions. We each carried the message to our homes. It was an effective message whose results now lay before us... Full Story
It was getting darker and colder. The temperature had dropped unpredictably; a thing to be expected at this time of the year. The streets were slowly becoming deserted. Lena checked her time; it was nearly midnight. She wrapped her arms tighter around her naked shoulders, wondering how much longer she had to wait at this corner before there was some sort of action. She felt as if her buttocks were about to turn into ice cubes... Full Story
Her Lagos adventure started last December with a hand delivered letter from her father’s estranged sister. Aunt Isioma said she would be in the village for Christmas and wanted forgiveness for the damaged relationship between both families. She also wrote that Gladys could return to Lagos with her if her mother agreed. Gladys had been as surprised as her mother and brothers at the request, but also very excited. At twenty-six, and after one year steeped away in the far north of the country for national service, she was ready to move to the next step. Her mother disagreed but went ahead to visit the village for the New Year... Full Story
No call for a slow-down
Boo! Join me and save us this one
Though it has felt like a dream thus far
Love is stuck, its emotions unsaid.
A story to tell; maybe you heard?
Remorse to avert; perhaps you saw?
But many searched and never found
Whilst many found yet blew up... Full Story
Tonight's show felt different from the others that I had seen. I felt restricted not only because I was seated at the Shrine, which itself was strange enough, but there was a woman sitting right beside me whose presence was uncomfortable to say the least. I wondered if she thought anything of the fact that Moses had sat me next to her, but as far as I could tell she seemed completely unconcerned... Full Story
She adjusted the lapels of his uniform as he prepared to leave. Kissing her briefly, he walked into the garage and started the white Mercedes-Benz. She stood and waved until his car disappeared from view, then closed the garage door. In the kitchen, her hands trembled slightly as she made her lunch. Mishka began to stir in her cot and she rushed over to pick her up. Soothing the baby as she picked out her clothes for work, she realised just how late she was running... Full Story
Bright red, flickered from a cigarette he gently smoked. Ash followed ash in the same direction, making a fine sprinkle on the sandy ground. His slim body, well tucked into the chair. He was calm. I didn’t know if he was thinking. His head was up, staring at the cloud of smoke above. The confidence he exuded struck me in successive sequence. I liked the very way he smoked. Especially the way he used his tongue to curl smoke out of his mouth. What an art, I thought. And for the first time in my life, I felt like smoking... Full Story
Under the Dongoyaro tree, there I sold oranges loved by men; oranges they claimed were as sweet as sex. I had arrived at my spot one morning, only to see the felled tree by the side of the road. I sighed, knowing that my day would be glum as I went in search of a new dwelling for my business. I walked under the blistering sun, my feet burned as my lean slippers slapped the earth. I cried out to my customers still; my voice called out to them to come have a taste of my sweet oranges, those ones as sweet as sex... Full Story
The first time he saw her, he had visited his barber for a haircut. From the mirror in front of him he could see her without her recognising she was being watched. He could see her contours and curves clearly like a farmer watching his wheat plantation from a glider. Her features were loud and her smile exuded a lot of confidence. The even pieces of ivory that decorated her full lipped mouth was her other major source of facial beauty besides her cat eyes that blinked slowly and graciously... Full Story
Main. Main Street standing up straight and adjusting the rainbow-coloured wrap skirt that threatens to slide down her wide waist, black blood boiling in her veins. Bustling throbbing writhing street. Everything moving: cars, voices, ambitions, money, dreams, feet, smoke. Just moving moving moving — like a wind. The thin reed of a woman in the screaming red dress, the one carrying a black bundle in her arms, suddenly pauses right at the center of Main and thrusts her chest out in pain... Full Story
On a cool evening in April, behind the fancy glass frames of a reputable eatery, a young lady waited. It was obvious from the way she shuffled her legs and shook her hands that she hated waiting. Waiting, to her, seemed more like a passive hide and seek. Rummaging through charted memories in search of an expectation, with all the emotional rigours of unveiling unsightly experiences, was not exactly her idea of pastime, so waiting was not a joy, but it was something she had to do... Full Story
The date is 25 December 1982. I woke up with a strict schedule in mind. It had taken us a lot of time planning how we would spend the two most important days of December, Christmas and Boxing day. When I rose from the new reed mat bed that my father had made me days before my arrival from boarding school, my backside was itching. It was nothing serious but the effect of the new acquisition that had drawn bezier curves on my body... Full Story
So here I am in Sun City. I could tell you about all of them in my sleep but, I won’t. Well not a lot. I would rather tell you about the guy who landed me here. It always began with emails... Full Story
Whenever I saw the jagged pieces of a broken heart swirling in the depth of her dark soft doe-like eyes, I knew Mai Chamboko was not a witch. But many people said she was. I guess that is why there were echoes of pain in her eyes. When I asked her why her eyes were so sad, she sighed and whispered, “Ah, my little husband, perhaps it is because I yearn for understanding... and peace... things very few are willing to give.”... Full Story
I am in a bicycle shed with some of the parents. Others spread out in talking groups around the school grounds, enough parents to fill several classrooms. Closing time at Gotham Primary is busy. I feel strange, almost removed, as if here and not here. I can hear every sound or think I can. It feels that way in my throbbing head. There had been warm greetings. I responded to the How are yous? with cheery Fine, thank yous. A smile is always possible... Full Story
They thought his death was the final thing God was to do before he ended the world. So they made mourning faces at the street, their signature of grief everywhere, walls and doors, streets, and even people. This was the weight of grief, that when she heard it her cloth loosened first, then she fell to the floor. And at that point, her nearby son did not care what he saw beneath her cloth, for in grief there is no shame... Full Story
What is wrong with putting a penis inside a girl who badly wants you to? This was the question that occurred to Dennis as he realised that he was going to have sex with this girl he had just met. It was a question that he knew the answer already (sheer professional integrity, she could get pregnant, she could be a lot younger than she looks and you could get done for statutory rape and end up in that place where you came to know all about a very different sort of rape... Full Story
Sarudzai squatted and felt between her legs for what she hoped she had not imagined. Ordinarily, she was not prone to hallucinating, yet she understood what tricks an anxious mind could play on a person of a nervous disposition such as her own. But she wasn’t willing to believe that the moistness squelching into her underwear, as she walked along, had been such a figment of her imagination. And so she had stopped - expectant and fearful - at the public toilet... Full Story
On Monday morning Rachel called for a board meeting and informed everyone that she had managed to acquire a goodwill loan. She did not disclose the source but she knew that they guessed it was from Noel. Geoffrey had insisted on knowing the source but Rachel had emphasized on the source’s insistence on anonymity. She also proposed some changes and confidently answered their questions. They were obviously stunned by her new assertive attitude and she could sense that she had earned a grudging respect from them... Full Story
Six feet of polished oak separated them. Nduesoh’s eyes travelled the length of the oval dining table, marvelling at the sheen, the way young lovers marvel at the contours of their naked limbs. She knew all too well that the housemaid would have polished every inch of the surface repeatedly so that the result would be the flawlessness that her eyes now beheld. The floral arrangement at the middle of the table was almost an intrusion—tulips and golden daffodils... Full Story
I stepped back, closely observing Moses' face. The body language suggested that something was not right. The woman came closer, she had seen us and was coming straight towards where we were standing, now a few feet apart. They greeted each other but the greeting was short, as of two people who know each other well and spend a lot of time together. Later on while thinking about this I thought Moses had handled it quite well, as he had calmly introduced me to her as a friend. This woman was his wife... Full Story
Africa reigns forever, children shall still form our future. Our tales shall live at all odd times. It shall live from generation to generation; in the moonlight, beside the fire, beside the bed, in the media, amidst whispers, with scoundrels, with moralists, and with all... Full Story
I am standing at the edge of the Lagos Bar Beach with the waves roughly beating at my feet; hard and fast. The sea looks stormy and I half turn to catch a glimpse of one of the warning flags - that tiny piece of cloth on a stick - which has been put up to inform people about the temperament of the sea. The flags could be the difference between life and death if heeded... Full Story
Solid high heels clicked against the hardwood floor. Tall and curvy, she smelled like meatloaf, with a dash of mustard. She had just glided by. Now she stood in front of the table which displayed assorted wines, spirits, lemonades, and mineral water. Curtis, the host, had assumed the role of unofficial barman behind the table mixing drinks; his smiles seemed too generous you wondered if he was familiar with melancholia... Full Story
We used to play hop-scotch (pada) in our backyard watching the sun steal away where the earth ends. Our noises would sink into the early evening breeze like the lovely voice of cheese in our little mouths. Girls tugged their size one skirts into their innocent under-wears as they hopped with spread legs on the boxes marked on the ground. Their whole front look was almost as plain as ours just that their pretty faces used to keep us on the edge of our juvenile curiosity and the ribbons on their young hair would radiate our semi-ignorant hearts. We were never love-slaves, just passive artists... Full Story
Willie fingered the small packet in his side pocket. He had opened it several times these past three days to look over the small pink tablets inside but each time, he had suppressed the urge to throw two of those pink things down the throat. Perhaps this Viagra business was really meant for old white men who live in cold places and could really damage a tropical African like him in the long run. And what if he became one of those users who ended up with a stubborn erection for more than 24 hours?.. Full Story
Tellam raised his head when he noticed the movement. He moved to the bedside and the horror he had worn on his face for a few days melted away as a smile burst through the same face. The lady on the bed blinked continuously as the muscles in her eyes were trying to readjust because she had laid in coma for some days now. Her eyes were trying to contain the intensity of the light from the rising sun. Tellam moved closer to her and touched her hands, they looked into each other’s eyes and tears broke through the tired eyes of the two of them... Full Story 
