Glissade

After the ambush you still hear whispers of his songs

Familiar slogans clog social media pipelines. The red river swells with braids undone.

To escape from fire is to die by water.

I sit with the inconsolable soul of the dark— The voices of pleasure in the deep woods

He smokes until he sees something moving in the smoke, remembers Joy like blindness: swimming at Jazeera Beach, gorging on belonging, barwaaqo, iftiin. He remembers riding through Suuqa Bakaaraha on a motorbike, held onto by women with hair trailing behind them like black smoke. It’s raining in London again, Hassan Aden Samatar sings from a …

Chika thinks Achebe’s thought process unique. Esomnofu believes Iduma is grossly underrated.

ISSUES

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