Glissade

I believed, for once, that God wasn’t responsible for anything.

She imagined that she was Mary on the run to Egypt to save Baby Jesus.

The phone rang. I picked it up at the first beep. “Waziri, how are you?” “Fine sir. And you?” “Have they called you?” “No sir.” “These people! Don’t worry, I will sort it out.” The conversation ended within thirty seconds. This was around noon on Tuesday, 23rd February 2016. I did not have to probe. …

You’re becoming an angry feminist and I’m worried for you.

But these precautions didn’t stop Ekene from dying in his sleep.

I mean, there’s stuff here to be forgiven of, not merely accidents.

ISSUES

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