Gideon Chukwuemeka Ogbonna

  • HIM

    A sickler fettered to pain. Fought his pain with opium—vials of pleasure and peace that swam in his blood. Then he became chained to it. And on days when he couldn’t get it, he’d take out his frustration o […]

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  • Ike, Seyi, Hassan are running with blistered foots; panting. Their tattered clothes dampened with blood and sweat. Johannesburg is on fire, they are after their lives. They did nothing wrong save to desire a […]

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  • Udoka saw Babajide’s Facebook post, and knew it was time to act. She had worked hard to get to this point: Her pitch had been accepted; promotion came with thrice her salary. Also, her commissioned scripts fetched […]

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  • You run, a child in your arm. The child’s cry, a response to the commotion he doesn’t understand: The air is rent with the grisly sound of guns and grenades and death. For the first and only time, you understand […]

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  • ‘You hear of the thief wey dem catch for mosque last week?’

    ‘My sister, I hear o. I hear say dem been burn am.’

    ‘Remain small. Dat pastor wey de always preach for street na im bring fuel come for the […]

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  • This was when you killed a boy:

    The day you snuck on him in the yard finding peace and pleasure in the lips of another boy. You had screamed, and the neighbours shook their heads in pity.

    This was how […]

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  • Okide, do you remember that evening on the beach when I told you of my father I never met; of my mother overpowered by the lump on her left breast; of the tender ridges of my femininity ploughed when I was […]

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  • Every day, for fifteen years, I drove a rickety, yellow taxi round the crowded streets of Lagos, while my wife sat in her shop hiding away her tears from customers with “I am fine.” We didn’t have a child. Then […]

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