Many years after the beginning of time, Ajja, after years of childlessness and ridicule, had gone to the gods of the forest to ask for a child to brighten up her old age.
One afternoon, I found a note under my door. Scribbled in pencil on torn paper. No name. Just the words: You cannot lie to a city that knows your footsteps.
Your sight isn't playing tricks,
I really do want to.
Featured Stories
The Quality of Mercy is one of the finest books from Africa, and with it, Siphiwe has positioned herself as an important [African] writer
This book blends the fabrics of living the American dream, African (Ibibio) spirituality, and modern Nigerian reality to create a novel that captivates and leaves a lasting impression long after the final page.
Lagos is the largest city in Africa. In this photo essay, Photographer Taiwo Shonowo reflects on living in Lagos.
The Lives We Live
The connection between my identity as a Black woman and my relationship with my hair goes deep. It means acknowledging the history of my hair and why perms and wigs even exist as hair styling options.
It was too late. We had tasted sin and seen that the repercussions were unclear and improbable.
Then I heard blog posts made money for writers. Like every click they got converted to money, like Linda Ikeji's blog. “When Google Ads enter your blog like this, you will blow.” So I tried blogging. I didn’t blow.
I was a simple child then. Intelligent, but simple. I knew I wasn’t like most boys my age. I didn’t like football, nor did I enjoy fighting. I was called a girl so much I’m surprised it didn’t become a nickname.
I was surprising even myself with all this wisdom. I guess beauty has a way of bringing out the best things in us.
New collection.
It all begins with an idea. Maybe you want to launch a business. Maybe you want to turn a hobby into something more. Or maybe you have a creative project to share with the world. Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.
Author’s Voice
That was the first time she learned that she had to set herself on fire to make other people happy.
When the sun came back/ I was a full tree/with all the room in the desert to grow,
I hope when they take my picture/I am filtered with bright exposure
The Quality of Mercy is one of the finest books from Africa, and with it, Siphiwe has positioned herself as an important [African] writer
She sighed. “Everything grows here,” she said, pulling out more weeds. “If it’s strong, it lives. If not, then it dies.”
She leaped from her window and became a swarm of bats.
Latest Poems
Your sight isn't playing tricks,
I really do want to.
When people see this on the news, they feel sorry that this is the place I call home.
but look at the sky! how it
spreads! a thing in vastness
A woman leaned her back on a broken wall/ her face a deep secret in her hijab
That was the first time she learned that she had to set herself on fire to make other people happy.
I’ve watched mothers / Break into rivers / Before their children’s / Sprawled bodies.
Once my life was brilliant with you in it
We’ve seen it all, really. Yet, we still fall into the trap of a single story—every single time. We still think that we are either this or that; we can’t be both; we can’t be everything all at once.