Baaji Joseph Aondoakura My first episode occurred nearly seven years after Katoro. Afterwards, I would
Gospel Okoro // Winner, The Leonard Ugwuanyi Prize for Flash Fiction, 2024. …every now and
Mother says to pluck bitter leaves from the garden in the backyard, to make Ofe
In the cold silence of the starless night, the bed creaks slowly—almost wearily, as Ife
We’ve gradually fallen into the habit of patching things up, Mother and I. Like nodding
The love I have for Doremi is a watermark, not a pencil line. I tell
We gathered together and watched hungry solicitors; our spirits reaching for the skies, dragging it down to us, begging it to fulfill its promise, so our crops could grow, so our life could have new meanings – better ones. But the skies withdrew its promise with a malicious smile…
You were both crossing the grounds next to the Faculty Hall. A slight wind rustled the leaves and the low grass, bending and shaking them, filling the night with eerie whispers. Branches creaked. Looking up, the moon’s dull luminescence seemed a bit ominous to you. The stars, as always, were innumerable.
Last night, I called Ikem and got the answering machine. His voice was curt and
She tells him he drives like a woman and he says nothing and she says