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This is why in Lamu I/we dance to the grumbling fable/s of my/our history & loving becomes a prerequisite of the inconsolable— Self-portrait as plurality by Frank Njugi. Frank Njugi ibadanarts.liveblog365.com/2023/09/01/sel…

Waiting For Five O’Clock— Chinonso nzeh Chinọnso Nzeh medium.com/@ibadanart/wai…

ÌBÀDÀNarts thank you for beauty.

You push yourself to that cataclysmic spectrum. When the first moan escapes your lips, when your mind is sheathed in that vicious haze of pleasure, your phone rings... Read "Today, You Will" by Cole Olasubomi @subomicole. ibadanarts.liveblog365.com/2023/09/01/tod…

The place boasts a distinct something- a soul, if one’s being prosaic- that I never noticed until now, is lacking in Abuja. This is the incongruous, seemingly irreconcilable oddity that is Ibadan- Read "Returning" by Muti'ah Badruddeen Muti'ah Badruddeen ibadanarts.liveblog365.com/2025/04/08/ele…

Read my lil’ love letter of a story to Ibadan, the hometown of my heart

It’s worth reading just for the prosaic bio at the end of the story “Look how far we’ve come!”

I scream into a valley/ and it returns a flustered echo/ lost in a congregation of voices/ my body is a church of languages/ worshipping the etherealness of a formless god- Read "Rhapsody" by Adesiyan Oluwapelumi LUMInescence ibadanarts.liveblog365.com/?p=884

You scroll through his contacts; his gallery: floozy pictures of half-naked women, posing. You scroll: cherry-cheeked girls, crimson-lipped, at the last, when you’re almost tired of scrolling through, you find her- "The Colour of Freedom" by Nwabuisi Ken ibadanarts.liveblog365.com/2023/09/01/the…

This is why in Lamu I/we dance to the grumbling fable/s of my/our history & loving becomes a prerequisite of the inconsolable (a) boy/s & his /their mirror/s is/are the sight of Anne Sexton- Read "Self Portrait as Plurality" By Frank Njugi Frank Njugi ibadanarts.liveblog365.com/?p=799

Sometimes memory is a thing to be liberated from. Forgetting means letting go, becoming new. Reinvention. Possibility. Clean slate. Dew on the grass. — Freedom of Forgetting by Michelle Chepchumba. @chepchumba_m ibadanarts.liveblog365.com/?p=1074

Over here, there’s you and I, on the opposite edges of our bed— two countries bordered by an invisible river- Read "Something Beautiful" by Abu Bakr Sadiq Abu Bakr As-Siddique ibadanarts.liveblog365.com/2023/11/12/som…

your teacher taught you a metaphor – maybe it is irony – by calling your country a tomb – outside, beautiful. inside, dead man bones. you now know how to pray in a new way- Read "Portrait in the Lonestar" by Emmanuel G. G. Yamba @emmanuelgyamba ibadanarts.liveblog365.com/?p=626

Must I enter? I do not wish for anyone the progression of time — not the cock nearing orgasm, not the cock with a knife to its throat in December- Read "Nocturne For Solitude" by Pamilerin Jacob pamilerin jacob ibadanarts.liveblog365.com/2023/11/13/noc…

Beloved, do you remember the ache that wrung your tongue dry & empty of psalms. isn’t that a kind of silence? isn’t that a pestilence, too?- Read " Portrait of a Lily in Spring" by Chinedu Gospel Chinedu Gospel ibadanarts.liveblog365.com/2025/04/15/por…

Congratulations, congratulations, congratulations to Arike Pre-order, Oga awon olosho. , winner of the 2025 Evaristo Prize for African Poetry! 🥳🥳🥳 Read more here: africanpoetrybf.brown.edu/ameen-animasha… The APBF sends gratitude to all the wonderful emerging poets who shared their work with us!