In every leaf, in every stone,
The world’s reflection, deeply shown,
To change the world, we must rehearse,
The change begins within our universe.
‘BOYS TOO WERE RAPED’ / ‘SUBDUED TONGUES ON THE BENUE BRIDGE’ / ‘TALES CAUGHT IN MOTHER’S BREATH’ / ‘CROSSING THE BORDER’ / ‘MEMORIES’ | five poems by Daniel Aôndona
The first time my eyes saw a girl’s nakedness
was at sixteen, when my body became an altar
for a forceful ritual of iniquity by a girl
Announcing the Esteemed Panel of Judges for the Brigitte Poirson Literature Prize 2023
The esteemed judges for the 2023 Brigitte Poirson Literature Prize are Iquo DianaAbasi, [Su’ur E.] Su’eddie Vershima Agema, Brigitte Poirson, and Kukogho Samson, each bringing their unique contributions and expertise to the literary world.
CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS: ‘MIGRATION’ — CỌ́N-SCÌÒ MAGAZINE ISSUE 3, VOL 1, DECEMBER 2023
CỌ́N-SCÌÒ MAGAZINE invites submissions exploring the theme ‘MIGRATION’ for Issue 3, Volume 1, to be published in December 2023. The submission window is from 25th October to 25th November 2023.
Call For Submissions: The Eriata Oribhabor Poetry Prize 2023
The 2023 edition of the annual Eriata Oribhabor Poetry Prize (EOPP) is now receiving entries focusing on the themes of Unity, Truth, Justice, and Change..
Introducing The Brigitte Poirson Literature Prize (BPLP): A New Era for Nigerian Literature
After 8 years of consistently rewarding poetic excellence and with 76 cash prize winners, this literary odyssey has now evolved into something even more profound—The Brigitte Poirson Literature Prize (BPLP).
Call for Submissions: The Brigitte Poirson Literature Prize 2023
We are now accepting poetry and short fiction submissions for the 2023 edition of the annual Brigitte Poirson Literature Prize (BPLP).
My Name Is Grief | a poem by Mohammed Taoheed
i know this eventual
oneness is my grief & i cup my hands around it.
neck-deep – the mire yet yielding and yielding around me.
Ọmọ́túndé: A Bond Broken & Renewed | a short story by Michelle Adegboro
Even as a newborn, you could see Iris’s eyes, ears, nose, and hair in hers. It was a beautiful reminder. I held her in my arms, played with her, and sang her the songs I used to sing with my sister. I named her Ọmọ́túndé because I believed she was my twin returned again.
TODAY IS NOT THE DAY WE DIE ‘ / ‘ALONE IN THE CROWD’ / ‘THE EXECUTIONER ‘ / ‘CAN I TAKE A DIP? ‘ | four poems by Olumide Holloway (King Olulu)
One day I will write a poem about the tears,
That stain my face throughout the years.