Your mother was still pregnant with you when she left the tranquillity of Port Harcourt for the fireworks of Onitsha with your father, in a truck loaded with all their property – a standing fan, two plastic chairs and a wooden table… [16mins]

Mother says there are locked rooms inside all women. Rooms where the sound doesn’t travel because it doesn’t know how. Shelters for all those things we think we shouldn’t be. [2mins]

This story was published as a finalist of the AFREADA x Africa Writes Competition.

A few weeks before we found Ma dangling by her neck, the same year that an airplane vanished, she had told me of the first time she had seen solid water… [2mins]

This story was published as a finalist of the AFREADA x Africa Writes Competition.

I’m sitting on the floor as my mother plaits my hair. I always think of myself as a canvas, my mother the painter… [1min]

This story was published as a finalist of the AFREADA x Africa Writes Competition.

I read this story once, of this man, bed bound for so long the sweat from his head left a lasting yellow halo on the wallpaper…[2mins]

This story was published as a finalist of the AFREADA x Africa Writes Competition.

We haven’t seen Nana; not since the fire. I told friends at school it was a blaze, but I lied, like always. It was just a fire, spreading quickly and evenly throughout our kitchen… [2mins]

This story was published as the winner of the 2018 AFREADA x Africa Writes Competition.

You should bang on the wall a few times,” Anika suggested, propping herself on her elbows and leaning in to his side of the bed. “Not too aggressive – just enough to let them know that they’re keeping us awake… [12mins]