Short Fiction

Ojuri omo Afefe



When Ojuri was ten years old, his true mother took him. She was Afefe, Mother of All Sylphs and Wind Essence Itself. Ojuri had been with Fila, his black goat when she arrived. Ojuri despised his farm boy life with Kolari but managed to make the surrounding wild bush into grounds for great adventure – catching rabbits and chasing streams and dodging bats and exhuming glassy rocks.

It was during the okra harvest that Afefe came down. Fila had bleated furiously with alarm as he sensed her presence, knowing what was coming when she descended into the drying leaves, rustling them softly with her fingers before becoming a sinuous wave that slipped under Ojuri’s feet, then around his body to fling him up into the sky like a puppet made out of dried grass.

The last thing he saw was Kolari’s large farm and Fila being left behind, leaping on his haunches. Continue reading

Short Fiction



Mary Had A Little Lamb (July 6, 2019: 12:08am.)

Hello! This is Osi.

I hope you can hear me.

Mary is dead.

She died less than twelve hours ago. She was standing under the shelf. Baba Sumbo had warned me about that shelf more than twenty times. About ten times after he started warning me, Mary and I shared our first kiss. It tasted like gbegiri but it was all soft and Mary smelled like Hair Wonder. Under the shelf. She died under the shelf. I did not mean to get anyone killed talk less of Mary. The whole shelf fell. Please help. How do I untangle time? Whom do I ask for help? I need to see Mary again. I must undo this or I die, by my own hand or by letting another man be my savior.

I beg. Please.

I love her too much to let her go without me. Continue reading

Short Fiction

Sista Taiga

“…today we bring una one special ‘tory about one sisi for Ibadan wey den dey call orisa, den call am witch, call am devil, even call am Superwoman….”

“…na so de woman dey waka for road with new pikin for back dey sell im moi-moi, dey shout “Moi-moi gbona re!”. As people no con call am, she waka fast fast make she take reach de street wey den dey chop de moi-moi wella…”

“…one small truck wey carry many pure water bag for im back dey comot for the same street wey de aunty de go sell im moi-moi, and the road of the street no good na so so mountain and valley, sha, the truck con turn one jagajaga turn, fall yakata…”

“…dem strong uncle and bobo wey dey do correct gym for de area see de accident con dey try remove de pure water make den take remove driver make den fit comot de truck for road. Na so den con hear pikin dey cry for inside de pure water. Den con begin dey dig fast fast make den take fine de pikin wey dey cry…”

“….de no reach de pikin before de truck begin do jim jim, jim jim, con dey raise by insef. Den watch as de truck raise insef finish. Na so den con dey run wen den see wetin den see, some of de bobo even fall for ground…”

“…na de mama carry de truck for one hand like carton wey no get indomie for inside. In carry de pikin we dey cry for im other hand con push de truck throway. Den say im eye red die but no be cry she dey cry. Dem bobo say she look dem like say she fit chop dem. She con run like horse, she run far go disappear inside bush.”

“…dem no see am again. De uncle wey call our station to give us dis tory say na de world wey wan end dey make all dem devils and ogbologbo aje dey get mind dey show for street. E say make we tell una bobos wey like woman wella say make una dey try take de woman go church for deliverance before una begin dey chook unasef.”