The sun burns brightest on the morning after a night-time rainstorm. That Thursday in June, when my partner and I awoke to find our Surulere apartment windows washed clean by rain, with the glass slats sparkling in the sunlight and the floor tiles as dry as an ark’s insides, we decided to celebrate our good …
Èjìrẹ́, Aráìsokún, ẹdunjobi, Ọmọ ẹdun tí ń ṣeré orí-igi. Ọ̀kan ni mo bèrè, èjì ló wọlé tọ̀ mí wá. You were asleep when you were born, in my hand, your reflection split into two. The men who were hired to forsake your silence brought drums & took you out to it. I looked back at …
