Written by Oladoyin Alana Music has the power to make you express, feel, be heard, be relieved, be charged and be entirely yourself. And when music is in the hands of some, it becomes a weapon to dismantle structures that have long suppressed their voices. For Black people, music has and continues to serve as a tool of memory and to preach, resist, remember and question systemic oppression wherever they find themselves, and many times enjoining others in the movement. …
Written by Precious Nwosu Just like I do before writing any piece, I typed “safe sex” into Google’s search bar and as if in a race, widely cited definitions popped up on my screen within seconds. …
“Your destination is on the left,” the Google Map voice told her fifteen minutes later. As she stopped the car at the black gate in front of the lovely one-storey house, her hands began to shake …
The call came at exactly 6:32 in the morning. She was already awake, counting down the minutes as the time drew closer. She had not slept well the night before; she was anxious and shaky, wondering …
Valentine’s Day does not start in February; it starts at the beginning of the year. From the first week of January onwards, you start to see memes, quotes, tweets, countdowns, suggested Spotify playlists and the whole …
After we broke the kiss, we gazed drunkenly at each other. “You smell so good,” he whispered, kissing my neck and jaw and then the curve of my breasts above the neckline of my dress. While …
The text came at 8:40pm as I was just getting ready for bed after having my evening shower. Hoodlum: Hey, Tracy! I’m in town. Just landed at the airport. Just like that, I felt heat rush …
Rama looked nervous again when she asked Nafisa, “You want to tell her everything, then? All of it?” Nafisa nodded. “I do. The time feels right.” I wondered what other disclosure would have Rama so anxious …
I was still reeling when Nafisa inevitably found me in her garden twenty minutes later. She sat beside me on the bench – the one we had brought from our old garden – for a few …
At one point, in the evening of the day of the funeral, when most of the guests had left and only mostly family remained, lounging in the sitting room with their 4th or 5th bottle of …
My teacher came as promised. She was a young woman in her early twenties called Miss Jenny, and although she was very sweet and patient, it was rough at first. I couldn’t grasp what she was …
