maya angelou

On the third anniversary of Maya Angelou’s death, here is a poem of hers that is not so widely known. Enjoy. Because we have forgotten our ancestors, our children no longer give us honor. Because we have lost the path our ancestors cleared kneeling in perilous undergrowth, our children cannot find their way. Because we have banished the God of our ancestors, our children cannot pray. Because the old wails of our ancestors have faded beyond our hearing, our children cannot hear us crying. Because we have abandoned our wisdom of mothering and fathering, our befuddled children give birth to children they neither want norRead More →

Look at her, face set in serious lines as she types words that you can barely make out on her computer. You’re close enough to read, but as always, your mind is someplace else. She turns to you and points at a word on one of the stapled sheets on the desk. “Qualities,” you say. She is writing your book, typing out previously printed chapters so she can flesh them out. The bulk of it is copied from the internet, but she doesn’t know that yet. She’s pretty, but she’s no Jane – no one else is. Everyone knows she loves you; you’d have toRead More →

Jowhor Ile

I first heard of Jowhor Ile when the orisa herself, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, mentioned his name in an interview and said we should look out for his debut novel. An endorsement from Adichie is not something to be taken lightly, so I immediately went on the hunt for the novel. It also made me very happy when I found out that the novel was set in Port Harcourt, which is one of my favorite cities ever. I finally caught up with Jowhor and we chatted over chilled beers. I found him very warm, eager, and completely without the airs typical of some writers. He agreedRead More →

Abandonment

  By Buhle Khanyile For three years after my father died I occasionally experienced what, in retrospect, were fleeting psychotic episodes. Without ceremony, a touch of light headedness would swirl in my forehead and spread, like fog, towards the back door of my brain. A feeling of urgency to call my father would overcome me. Reaching for my cellular phone I would stare at it for what felt like an eternity while I tried to recall his office number.  I ransacked my contacts list in a desperate search for a number that did not exist. At the time of his death, my father had been longRead More →

First of all, I am a huge fan of Toni Kan. Have been right from his days at Hints, when I religiously read his column week after week. Hints magazine was my guilty pleasure and I would indulge in my favorite writers; Helon Habila, Toni Kan and even Chidinma Awa Agwu. I was very excited when The Carnivorous City by Toni Kan was published by Cassava press this year and I really looked forward to laying my hands on it. I previously purchased Nights of the creaking bed by the same author, but it has been sitting on my TBR shelf for a while. ToniRead More →