Thelma, Tell Ma

Thelma, tell Ma, your mother. Say you want to be her transparent lip gloss next Sunday. No one will care about the size of the lips, your ebony skin wouldn’t be sin. Home would not call you an outsider. Thelma, Read more…

By ife, ago

A festival of fire

Google does not answer every question. A fire outbreak nearly does. Or at least tries. On Otedola Bridge, the explosion is a bridge into five songs: Geometry Parabolas of anxiety. A woman who hated math recalls her math teacher’s voice: Read more…

By ife, ago

Supposed to be

This is Nigeria and so your name, though common, is pronounced Samweh – not Samuel. On a sweltering afternoon, after an hour of street football where, with your neighbours, you pride in a jersey of the bare chest and boxer Read more…

By ife, ago