I came online to express my grief, to cry for the demise of such a rare man. But the online space was fiery. Nigerians were talking about bad roads, poor supply of electricity and insecurity. Someone even mentioned the poor state of state-owned hospitals before the COVID-19 pandemic. I was devasted. Something again went off in my chest — I seriously need to get that checked. How can we talk about bad roads in the face of grief?
JolaadeLove me & mind not the colour of my skin,My age, class & naïvete. Love me wholeheartedly for who I…
i to be depressed is a sin in this nation where it’s name equals depression. the white’s man disease it…
COVID-19 is real; that I’m certain of. I’ve heard so many conspiracy theories I’m convinced these movies have done so…
You’d have to pardon me, I should have sent this in since Saturday. But Theatre Arts and laziness are two…
This particular story doesn’t start with this sentence. It doesn’t even start at the point I tell myself I want…
i. mama, these verses are stained with yesteryears’ distress, today’s tears and red- black ink of sorrowful solitude.…
Black Youth is now accepting submissions — short stories, poems, essays, critiques, photography and opinion articles from writers worldwide. All…
Her clothes smudged with dirt, and a hair awry as the chewed mango on her juicy palms. Lying face down…
Climate change and peace are like two sides of the same coin. When one is treated with care, tactically and…
You are in the elevator, crowded only by your thoughts and a reflection of you in the elevator’s mirror. Your…