Explore unfettered expression for CỌ́N-SCÌÒ’s Parrhesia Issue. We welcome diverse expressions, including poetry, short prose, essays, artwork, and photographs.
SO, WHEN DID YOU DIE? | A review of Tolu A. Akinyemi’s ‘On The Train To Hell’ by Jide Badmus
This is a journey through the pitch dark of loss with the torch of language. Grief has never been this soft! The 53 poems in this collection are reels of heartbreak with the mercy of metaphors.
“Whom The Gods Would Destroy, They First Make Mad” | an essay by Temi Tayo
The gods play a dangerous game, tempting us with their gifts while slowly but surely eroding our minds. And as we spiral deeper into madness, we must ask ourselves, “Is this really what we desired?”
A Distant Elegy | A Memoir by Akal Mohan
Tonight in Kampala, you turn off your light but open the eyes in your head: to see Liz finish her life in a struggle. You see her flapping her hands as the waters lap on her face, helplessly as you yelp for any help. None comes and so she dies. You wish you had contained her spirit before it migrated to a different realm, leaving her body—lifeless.
Roving Bodies | An essay by Edwin Mamman
One of the difficult parts of moving was having to explain to friends and neighbours why we’d no longer be living ‘here’ next year. Saying goodbye and ending friendships you had forged. It was always sad to leave people behind.
‘Left Behind’ & ‘Everywhere, Anywhere’ | two CỌ́N-SCÌÒ art by Grafreaks
So much is said about those who leave, but no one spares a thought for those who are left behind to pick up the pieces of nations broken apart by decades of greed and corruption
In This Poem, I Am Biafra | a CỌ́N-SCÌÒ poem by Fortune Simeon
This body is Biafra. I want to be Ojukwu. I want to secede this flesh. Let me break out.
THIS LOVE | a CỌ́N-SCÌÒ poem by Salami Alimot Temitope
What is this tingling sensation in my stomach? Your name,
hibiscus in my mouth. Your voice, a star in the night
of my body. This love scintillates the orchid of my core.
“The Craft Of Poetry Writing Is Rooted In The Pursuit Of One’s Voice”: A CỌ́N-SCÌÒ Magazine ‘Migration’ Issue Interview with Ayomide Bayowa
The craft of poetry writing is rooted in the pursuit of one’s voice, an elusive element that can be found within oneself, whether it be deep within the vocal cords or buried within the pits of one’s impressions.
Burning Dirt | a short story by Urhuru
“So, you….” Alex stares at his hands “… you don become my padi abi?”
Timi laughs as he walks towards Alex, “Ehen na’’. And they shake hands, in the weird way that guys do.