Hitching up her pants, Lizy led us out of the queue and marched along the line of classrooms to the end of the block. No one spoke, except the old woman, who continued to curse the mothers of those who wanted to prevent her from voting...

"Ethnic stereotypes are absurd to me because I was raised in a part of Lagos that was unusual in the sense that almost all my friends and family had parents who were from different ethnic backgrounds..." - Sefi Atta

I used to think that I was blessed to grow up in a family where I could celebrate both Christian and Moslem holidays and considered myself fortunate to have been spared the burden of choosing between the two. However, I have been conflicted occasionally...

He seeks to abide in hearts reaching for each other
Without the merging of marrow on corridors of retribution,
But with sacred torches coursing through interstitial planes
In search of a pre-eminent monument...

Under an African sky

Walks a boy who grew into a man

And a girl who grew into a woman

Dark as the same sky at night...

In all my teaching experience, in Suruleria University and elsewhere, I have never heard of the chronicles of an academic career to rival that of Andrew Zubair in its ability to inspire. It is the story of a young man who found out that doing what was just enough was never going to be sufficient…

They’d run off every girlfriend he’d ever had in his life, and had fought him valiantly each time he’d wanted to settle down. They’d failed when it had come to Danai. She had a strong fighting spirit of her own, and had fought together with him for their love and their life....

I trek in distress, the route to my roots
In search of my love, motherland most sweet
Where my spirit wanders in disguise
On the wings of my dreams...

He began to find love elsewhere, and not where he expected. She was still in Law School and she said she was unready for anything called marriage. She said she loved him, especially his perceivable diligence, but she was unready. He said he would wait for her to even start practicing her law, she said he should not bother. She did not know if she would be ready, then...

In 2002, Chinedu Ogoke, a Nigerian writer resident in Germany published his first novel, Under Fire. His second novel is being awaited. In this interview with Ugochukwu Ejinkeonye, Mr. Ogoke speaks on his work and the state of African Literature in relation to the still thorny issue of audience definition...

The light-hearted day drummed its way

     across the mighty savanna of the sky.

The earth rumbled with the gritty labor

     of the fabled fellow of animal town...

The polarization of the countries of the world into developing developed nations has brought in its wake a dichotomy in the perception of ideas, concepts and cannons by different specialists in these divides...

There are many things to like about this little book that purrs gently, ever so gently. The book exudes the quiet confidence of a writer properly centered in the beauty and challenges of his being...

Tokunbo Awoshakin has successfully brought the realities of being a legal immigrant in the United States to the doorstep of all of us...

Have you ever read a book that you could never put down because you feel this weird obligation to finish it? To relive that experience, buy Biyi Bandele’s book Burma Boy...

Sister Atta, you speak to me in your book. You speak to me from deep in the bowels of my ancestors’ coven. You speak to me howling, bawling, and soaking me in the song of our mothers’ grief...

He sat in his room in the hostel and wondered why he had sent that accursed email. It was all he could think of for it somehow suggested he was much sillier than he allowed himself reasonable leash. In those weeks of hurting emptiness, he wondered if there was anything wrong with his sending the email. Was the problem not that he detected a poorly concealed hostility...

My journey home was uneventful until I stumbled on a group of policemen. They had mounted a roadblock at a roundabout. I was sure the blockade was illegal because the group was so concealed, that I nearly walked through it before a voice ordered me to halt. I knew instantly I was in trouble...

I had been warned that city people were conniving. She absolutely couldn’t be one of them. Conniving people were rude and unkind. She had woken me up and offered to help me - that is a sure sign of kindness, right? Lamely I tagged behind…

I walked past my father's shrine

past Ikenga, shelter of gods stringed with amulets

i walked past the narrow path

littered with ant-holes...