What do we really talk about when we talk about book piracy? You’ll find one answer in the seventh issue of Efiko Magazine. You’ll also find a noirish story set in the northern reaches of the continent, as well as probing poetry from a couple of Nigerian poets. In one non-fiction piece, a son about …
We will forget the death that now stinks up the city centre, dark hallways into the doors of offices
Contributors for our sixth edition are drawn from across the continent—and their subjects are just as varied. In one essay, a writer loses his religion. In a short story, a character falls in love, reaching, perhaps, for more than can be grasped. In another story, a woman is drawn to—and frustrated by—a noisy neighbour.
“Who even named you Jesus? Of all the names in The Bible, of all the names wey dey dis world so, na the name wey no fit you at all dem give you.”
Had I become a roaming syringe deployed by the federal government to inject pregnancies?
It saddens me to realize that everyone I know will die. I, too, will die.
I have never wanted to forget. But I have faltered in remembering.
