Une Seconde Victime || Abdoulaye Hali Aboubacar
Mon mari est décédé. Il m’a laissé avec une grossesse et une petite fille. Que vais-je dire à ses enfants ? Pouvais-je leur dire que leur père était un assassin, un terroriste ?
Month: February 2022
The Price Of Patriotism || Musa Hashim
Ibrahim slumped. His fellow veterans rushed towards him screaming. The last thing Ibrahim saw before he lost consciousness was the waving flag of a country that had long ago abandoned the likes of him.
Rahima’s Return || Akumbu Uche
At least, Mallam Abdullahi conceded, God had been kind to him. He had lost his first daughter, but he had lived long enough to see his second daughter return to him. Her mother had not been so lucky.
Modu’s Resolution || Abba Adamu Musa
When Constable Ali was murdered, every commercial motorcyclist in Lamari, a community in the town of Damari, celebrated. There was wild jubilation, for they thought that his demise was the end of their problems.
Kisasi by Sonnia Gitome
“I don’t know why my father chose the path that he chose. I am his daughter but nothing like him. I have carved my own path. I value human life; I respect the law and I’m here because I believe I can safeguard the constitution and the citizens of this country.” As she said the last words, she saw several officers exchange looks. The answer seemed to satisfy them because she got the job.
By a Whisker || Janet Nnenna Anosike
I also believe that you and your counterparts from the northern states and indeed every state in the country should dialogue to arrive at a favourable means of peaceful coexistence.
All in a Week’s Coincidence || Margaret Chimea
But Gadafi, if indeed you are involved in this attack, I will be mad at you and the mess you have created. How will you explain this to the youth who look up to you?
Weaponized || Muse Daniel
Mornings were usually hectic. He had to do everything hastily so that he could catch up with public transport. In case he missed one of the shuttles, he would be forced to use a motorcycle, which was not only expensive but also required battling with dust. The bus station was empty, except for two matatus parked opposite Mama Watoto Shop. He quickly entered one of them, joining two other passengers. As he sat quietly behind them, their conversation caught his attention.
Voices from Kira || Moses Adie Uyang
The village head spoke first. “My dear people, this is one of the methods of these people. When they see we are living in disunity, they find it easy to attack us. I know, some of you know, that even with our different beliefs or backgrounds, we have lived in Kira in peace for a long time until many of our young people started believing in emptiness. Their promises are empty. I have seen seventy-nine years on earth, and with the privilege of being your leader, I can tell you this. They are empty promises.”
Dance to the Whirls ||Daniel Jaja
Kareem woke up to the beep-beep of a heart-rate monitor. He was in a hospital ward. In the intensive care unit. The lights flickered on and off for a while before stabilizing. Kareem’s eyes hurt and his head hurt even worse. He remembered.