A dog that lost its home came back to bite its owner –
they say it is because the owner did not make any attempts to find it.
‘AN EXTRA NOTE ON THE NAIRA NOTE’ / ‘HOW TO HELP YOUR CORNTREE’ / ‘LIKE 20 NAIRA NOTE, WE SQUEEZE NIGERIA INTO YOUR PALM’ / ‘THE COOKING POT’ | four poems by Noble Alobu
Tonight / i fall on my knees / my face to the setting sun / beseeching
the old man / who the earth is his footstool: / lord / like 20 naira note / we
squeeze nigeria into your palm / oyigiyigi / keep it for us!
Rivers In the Desert | a short story by Mohammed Taoheed
The whirling wind whispered his sagacious sapience in books, and plethoric eyes pleaded assertingly that he dabbled into politics. Like all misologists, he leapt pronto, and he was made the mayor of a state in his sod, UAR.
‘STORM’ | a poem by Mubarak Said
in search of a tug of war, you blindfold the sky. like a cabbage. like a seed. like a fold of clothes beneath the loin. nothing marches the universe of wildfire like a tongue of stones.
‘FIRST…WITHIN’ / ‘BEYOND CONFORMITY’ / ‘JUST A JOURNEY INTO THE DEPTH’ / ‘ODE TO THIS BEAUTIFUL SPACE’ / ‘THE LINE’ | five poems by Obinna Emmanuel
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
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.
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.
‘I’M ON A HIATUS FOR PSALMS‘ / ‘FURLONG‘ / ‘ON DAYS WHEN THE AIR IS GRIEF‘ / ‘TO KISS ATAVISM‘ / ‘EXILE’ | five poems by Olayioye Paul Bamidele
here, the only ode is a receding
of insult. instead of pillows, my guardian
uses a slab, nets it on my nape & calls it
discipline. yet, that same night, cracks open—
like an egg—a psalm with my name.
GRACE (a poem by Blessing Omeiza Ojo)
I asked a boy, an orphan, bathing the street with waters
from his body, what led his pedigree to rest.
He said it was a bullet from a drunk policeman’s riffle.