Kiano stood frozen beside me; his young face became a mask of horror. At that moment, I saw him transform from a child into something else – a survivor who had witnessed too much death.
A Dark Quinquennial | a CỌ́N-SCÌÒ short story by Ibrahim Oga
Kiano stood frozen beside me; his young face became a mask of horror. At that moment, I saw him transform from a child into something else – a survivor who had witnessed too much death.
An Ehi Speaks | a CỌ́N-SCÌÒ short story by Adesuwa Agbonile
And then one morning, the ground on top of my grandfather softened into a mouth, and from it came a wheezing laugh. I had done it. I ran to my lab and saw that my computers were tracking the movements inside the glass box. They told me that the ions in my box were spinning. They were spinning, and they would never stop.
These Simple Salts | a short story by Emmanuel Olabiyi
Mother sits beside me, I do not know where her mind revels. Then she flings herself up, eating air, muttering words. Women amongst the sympathizers had followed her into the kitchen. Where they held her by each arm, retrieving whatever thing was in her right palm.
The Distance Between Truth and Falsehood | a short story by Imemba Emmanuel Ikechukwu
To be an elder brother is to never be fully prepared of what circumstance would require breaking principles, of what sacrifice you would have to offer in the next waking moment.
A Dog For The Butchers | a CỌ́N-SCÌÒ short story by S. Su’eddie Vershima Agema
But Captain wasn’t done. The dog gave chase, its paws barely kissing the ground as it streaked after them like a demon released. The men glanced back again and again, hearts pounding, as though their gaze alone might keep the animal at bay.
Owuro’s Hunter | a CỌ́N-SCÌÒ short story by Michael Olugbenga Olobadola
Owuro was a place rooted deep in doctrine. Here, witches weren’t figures of myth but threats prayed against from the pulpits and minarets. If the truth broke the surface, there would be blood.
Red Flag | a CỌ́N-SCÌÒ short story by Haské Madabe
The kiss came slowly at first, exploratory, then deeper. Her hand slid up the side of his neck, drawing him in. The warmth between them swelled
Saving Adanna | a CỌ́N-SCÌÒ short story by Amira Abdul-Azeez
It all comes trickling back in slides. All you see is red – there is blood everywhere, lots of blood. Your blood. There is pain. Obliterating pain that rips your insides open. The type of torment that leaves you writhing and begging to die because the agony of death is far more honourable than this torture.
The In-Between | a CỌ́N-SCÌÒ short story by Gloria Ogo
I remember the weight of the odikro’s hand on my shoulder, how I flinched when he squeezed and said, ‘Your life is ours.’ I thought he meant, ‘You’re a part of us.’ I felt I belonged. But five seasons later, I understood the true meaning of his words.