Khosa J.K. Chambalo | Memory Lane

The red earth of Malawi does not forget the footprints of its children. Even when the rain washes the surface clean,...

Cliff Burns | First Meeting

First Meeting You are the Otherbut from your pointof view so am I Inside Schrodinger’s Boxstaring at each otheruncertain what happens next Tribal peoplemeeting...

Abigail George | Black Vulnerability, Black Stigma

Black vulnerability, black stigma There's a swamp in his breath, swampy breathvolcanic ash in his pink nostrils, dragonThe red light from the...

Michael Barrington | A Toast to Africa

The message from the Regional Director was sparse and uncompromising—no explanations, only urgency. He should leave at once. His destination lay...

Yagazie Chinekotam | The Old High Gate Hotel

The set of apartments sat like the last twelve cubes in a St. Louis sugar box. I could smell the aroma of...

Mark de Klerk | Playing Golf with Nelson Mandela

Playing Golf with Nelson Mandela Once again, I am in the roughfeeling inferior to the guy behind mewho keeps hitting holes-in-one.After a...

‘Shèun Ominira-Bluejack | “Uneasy Lies The Head”

“I am an African! I owe my being to the hills and the valleys, the mountains and the glades, the rivers,...

Newpanther | Chapter 9

Chapter 9 yesterdays agoI saw long haired hippies in black and whitereligious groupies squatting everywheretelling fortunes under Shaman trancedrop a bit of...

LAST MONTH...

B. Guserwa | A silent affection

My old man loves his wife, but you would never know it. You wouldn’t know it from the way he never says her name, from...

The Permanence of Loss | A Conversation with Ìfẹ́olúwa Àyàndélé

Ìfẹ́olúwa Àyàndélé’s debut poetry collection, My Father Paints His Dreams on My Body (2026), was published by Moon City Press at Missouri State University...

Abigail George | Old Brown Sherry lullaby

He beat her black and blue when he was drunk (or) Old Brown Sherry lullaby On Friday nights, we would go to Spur and order steak,well-done. His...

Tarius Montayj Jones | Pain

“Pain” It comes every year, like the passing of tradition;there is no February’s leap year,nor is there any grey area in betweento separate Black from...

James Joy | How I Met My Kitten’s Father, and Other Lessons in Love

Our neighbour's stray cat is a patchwork of colors: white fur coat broken by a round grey spot on her back, and pointy orange...

Brian Obiri-Asare | in pure moonlight

in pure moonlight +++over at the chop bar, where they’re still palavering & holding onto the promise of this world, her sighs return +++from the abyss...

RANDOM CONVERSATIONS

Prof. Monica Mweseli: Okot P’bitek’s Call Still Relevant to All African Writers

Political turbulence following Idi Amin’s 1971 coup in Uganda...

Harry Garuba: In Praise of “the Thursday People”

Harry Garuba who passed in February 2020 was a...

The Mystique of Maxim

(for Uzor Maxim Uzoatu, Boroja I, Obi of Ikate,...

Uzor Maxim Uzoatu: The Legend of Ben Tomoloju

The arts scene of Lagos, nay Nigeria, owes a...

“My repression is as legitimate as your freedom”: A Conversation with Yẹ́misí Aríbisálà

Yẹ́misí Aríbisálà, formerly Yẹ́misí Ogbe, is a food memoirist...

Titilope Sonuga: I believe in truth-telling as a pathway to healing

Títílopẹ́ Sónúgà (she writes it as “Titilope Sonuga”) is...

Uwem Akpan: On Bullets, Bestsellers and Bedbugs

Uwem Akpan In conversation with Sola Osofisan. In 2008, Uwem...

Ogaga Ifowodo: Slipping a Stone in the Sling of Prose and Poetry

The name Ogaga Ifowodo, PhD., is familiar to many,...

Kọ́lá Túbọ̀sún: Renaissance is Badly Needed in African Language Literature

36-year-old Kọ́lá Túbọ̀sún is a poet, blogger, linguist and...