Date Archives → April 2018

…Bad Trip…

…Bad Trip…

By: Ikay Chimere

Level: 1

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Nnadi had just finished snorting three lines of cocaine when he heard a riotous noise outside. He sprang up from his slim mattress that reeked of assorted smells and wiped his face with his right hand. He made an attempt to walk a straight path to the door, but the narcotic substance coursing furiously through his veins made him stagger.

He made it to the door at long last after he had knocked down the standing fan, refrigerator and rechargeable lantern that stood in his way. Before finding the locks on the door, he impulsively turned back and beheld his unruly mess which made him giggle with a satisfactory look on his face. Continue reading →

…Distance Between Wealth And Apocalypse…

…Distance Between Wealth And Apocalypse…

By: Arc & Kay Kay

Level: 3 & 1

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Wealth

The world is worth a specific amount of billions;

Wotcha say? I mean trillions;

New money ain’t coming in;

At least not without breaking IMF laws innit.

 

To make money, u’ve got to use money;

Now where the money would come from I wonder;

Cos all monies on earth are owned by some man or the other;

Basically to make money you have to redirect someone else’s Continue reading →

…Mad Rhythm…

…Mad Rhythm…

By: Nkoli Os’kar

Level: 1

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Mad Rhythm

Knees to chest, he sat rocking….affront sand and stones that gave her a pathway to rubies and gold.

Her hand made harp played him chords only grief would hear through scorch and cold.

For every chord, he sat a little higher on a new memory she “piled” away from his sore core.

Yet for everyone of her recess in tune, he rocked; a duet in steadfast defiance through heat and pour. Continue reading →

Obongawan Okoyong: Mary Born of Robert Slessor

Obongawan Okoyong: Mary Born of Robert Slessor

By: Arc

Level: 3

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They didn’t all come to kill and destroy; some of them came with good intentions. Some came to share in our humanity, to speak in our tongue, to share in our pain.

Mary was born on the 2nd day of December, 1848 to alcoholic cobbler Robert and skilled weaver Mary Slessor. Mary Slessor The II  or Mary Slessor Jr. if you like grew up in the slums of Dundee and learned to work at the early age of eleven. At a time when there was no penicillin, Mary lost her father and two brothers to pneumonia. By age fourteen she had mastered the art of turning jute into mats and clothing, doing her best to support her mother and sisters. Continue reading →