Evelyn dragged her feet as she approached the green-and-white house. She could see her mother seated in front of the house on a white plastic chair, legs spread apart, digging dirt out of her fingers with a splinter of a broomstick.

Evelyn tightened her hold on the arm of her school bag. She had failed the term’s exams again. 23 out of 24 was written in red ink on the bottom left of her report sheet. She wondered how she was going to tell such news to her mother who was already convinced that her brain was not good for anything. Not like failing her exams was news anyway.

“They did not teach you at school to hail your elders when you see them?” her mother snapped even before she could say anything.

“Good afternoon, ma,” she greeted, tight-lipped.

“What was your position this time?” the latter replied, ignoring her greeting.

“She took last,” Gbubemi, her younger sister interposed.

Evelyn eyed her menacingly. Gbubemi winced.

“Is it today?” Her mother turned her lips at her and shook her head. “Your brain is not useful for anything. Nothing! If I talk now, they will say my mouth is smelling.”

Evelyn sucked on her lower lip and ... http://syncityng.com/2018/07/10/save-these-juices-with-tosan-tarre-3/

It's #SyncityNGLLLJuneCatchup!

Like we always do at the end of every month, we bring you up to speed on all the interviews held that month. We couldn't do this last week because of the memorial day set aside to commiserate with the victims of the Lagos and Plateau massacres.

Today by 7pm, join us on Twitter @syncityng as we play catch up!
Did you miss Frankie Edozien, Hadiza El-Rufai and Azafi Omoluabi-Ogosi's interviews? Follow @syncityng on all platforms and hang on for the June ride!

The Brittle Paper Awards is back for the 2018 edition. We are opening up the nomination process to the public. Anyone can nominate works of fiction, nonfiction, poetry, and essays or think pieces for consideration by our editorial team.

ELIGIBILITY

1. All kinds of essays and think pieces, poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction by Africans, or about the African literary scene, are eligible.
2. Such works published on any platform, literary or pop culture or otherwise, are eligible.
3. Eligible works must have first appeared online between 1 August, 2017 and 31 August, 2018. Works published in print before this window but which appear online within it are eligible.
4. Eligible works must be available for free online. Availability is necessary as the Awards are an invitation to the literary community to consider nominated pieces.
5. Works in online anthologies can be nominated provided the anthologies are accessible for free.
6. We can only consider works in the English language.

HOW TO MAKE A NOMINATION

Send an email to brittlepaperawards@gmail.com with the header “BPA 2018 Nomination.” The email is to contain only the following:

1. Title of the nominated piece.
2. Name of nominated author.
3. Category for consideration.
4. Link to nominated piece. In the case of an anthology, include the link to the anthology.

A nomination email can contain more than one nomination.

The nomination period is from 9 July, 2018 to 31 August, 2018.

The shortlists will be announced in September. Visit https://brittlepaper.com/2018/07/nominations-open-2018-brittle-paper-literary-awards/ for further details

“A Letter To What Was Once Mine” by Matilda Uchegbu

“Hello there,

it’s nice to hear from you again,

it’s been years, I fell into hate and felt drained, but now it’s all a facade because I can say and I do mean it

It’s nice to hear from you again.

Things changed like the weather, the time, trends and cloths changed but one thing remained the same,

how I feel about you, it’s so nice to hear from you again.

You sound happy, I don’t know how I feel about it, not sure if I’m sad or if I should be,

I almost cried when I heard the sound of your voice

still so smooth and encouraging as ever, not sure

why I feel these emotions,

I thought I hated you, so why is it so nice to hear from you again?... http://syncityng.com/2018/07/09/a-letter-to-what-was-once-mine-by-matilda-uchegbu/

That very evening as I made dinner of rice and fried meat stew, he came to hang around with me in the kitchen, talking of so many random things that I didn’t give a damn about. But I knew the drill, he was the one oblivious of what was up.

The aroma of my fried meat stew was to die for; it filled the whole kitchen and traveled into the passage and out of the house. A few of my other neighbors, while passing by joked that that food was one I washed my hands well to cook. My irritating neighbor also threw in a few comments on the smell of the food.

All of a sudden he was back to Extra Kind Mode. He helped me wash my plates, throw dirty water out into the gutter, clean the messy kitchen slab… things he never did when I squatted with him. All I did was say, “Aawww, thank you,” every now and then while I cackled inwardly... http://syncityng.com/2018/07/07/save-these-juices-with-tosan-tarre-2/

For years, she cried. She buried her heavy head in a basket of gloom and wrapped herself up in a blanket of doom. And then she began to do what depressed and broken people did; she started listening to songs. She would listen to Sia and Adele for days on end and she would cry. She cried with joy, with happiness. For her, crying was therapy. She felt as though she was emptying all the pain within her and it felt really great.

And then the time came when music lost its flavor. Adele stopped behind emotional and Sia turned out to be too happy. So, she quit music. And then she fell in love with the master of art. She fell in love with literature.

It was not just with literature. She fell in love with a particular story. She would wake up early in the morning every Tuesday and Friday just to read this series on the blog of this unknown writer she had come to adore. The series was about a group of ... http://syncityng.com/2018/07/06/for-he-could-not-die-a-short-story-by-michael-inioluwa-oladele/

"It Started With A Slap" A Short Poem by Temisan Dudu

It started with a single slap

Back then during courtship

And I vowed I was going to leave him

He begged so much it became embarrassing

“Baby I am sorry,” he pleaded

“I will never lift a finger to hit you again,” he vowed

His friends begged claiming it was work pressure

What could I do? I loved him so much

I went against promise to self

I took him back

That was my undoing

It happened again in the second year of marriage... http://syncityng.com/2018/07/05/it-started-with-a-slap-a-poem-by-temisan-dudu/

Irecall the day when a friend of mine was beaten blue and black by a girl in school. He came back home and told his parents what happened. It was a mess.

His father was as mad as a scorned masquerade. He shouted, danced here and there to his ability. He asked my friend where his hands were when the girl beat him up. I was there. My friend couldn’t speak because he was too afraid to.

His father went into his room, got a rope, tied his hands and legs and began to beat him. His mother did not help the matter.

As I grew older, I constantly related this experience to being an inhumane one. A wife beats her husband and people laugh it away. A man beats his wife and it is tagged violence against women. It makes the headlines in the dailies.

Culture, tradition and the society as a whole constantly comparing the boy’s strength with the girl’s. It doesn’t matter who is older and physically stronger... http://syncityng.com/2018/07/04/the-boy-child-voice-with-john-chizoba-vincent/

Unfortunately, as the days went on, I noticed that he would “think” that I was not using my own stuff and take them freely. My sugar, my groundnut, my chin-chin, leftover from the rice I had cooked in the morning… nothing edible was spared from his greedy eyes and that large mouth, ever looking for something to devour.

All these without so much as a “please, may I have it?” or a “thank you”.

Now, I may have overlooked it if he was a giver himself but I had never met anyone so stingy. He would cleverly wait until I was sound asleep before he’d cook his food. The sounds of him scraping the bottom of the pot kraa-kroo-kraa would wake me up and I would watch, unknown to him, as he greedily ate his food like there was no tomorrow... http://syncityng.com/2018/07/03/save-these-juices-with-tosan-tarre/

Congratulations to Makena Onjerika! Her short story "Fanta Blackcurrant" won the Caine prize 2018!

Read Pa Ikhide's thoughts on the Caine prize shortlist:

"Those who write should write, those who read should read. There are lovely pieces that have been written that are filled with misery. It’s not about the theme, it’s about the writing. It’s awful, and poorly edited. These stories were not ready for prime time... https:///MmCQfpXNlI

Dear writer,
What do you write? Fiction? Nonfiction? Poetry? Essays? Listicles? Rants and reviews? Or any other literature-related piece?
.
Interested in Guest Writing a weekly column on our blog? Here are the guidelines:
1. Send us a synopsis of not more than I,000 words. All articles must be original and save for personal blogs, must not have been published on any other literally site.
2. All articles may be centered on personal musings, literary comments, literary rants and reviews, opinions on anything literatute-related.
.
Let us be the platform through which your voice is heard!
.
How to get published: Send a synopsis of not more than 1,000 to syncityng@gmail.com along with a short bio and a picture of yourself.
.
Come on writers!! Let's go! ��

Our guest on this Monday’s episode of SyncityNG Literary Lords and Ladies is the beautiful Amaka Azie! Her book Melodies of Love was a finalist for the Book of the year at the first ever Ufere Award.

#Synner a round of applause as we welcome Amaka Azie to the show!!

Let’s begin. Please tell us, how long have you been writing to have amassed so much accolades?
.
I have been writing since I was a teenager. But only begun publishing since 2016.
.
My debut novel Melodies of Love was a finalist for the Book of the year at the first ever Ufere Award. I’m exceedingly proud of that. To be in the same category as authors I admire like @KiruTaye and @empibaryeh … Humbled is the word.

A lot of people see romance writers as unserious ... http://syncityng.com/2018/07/02/an-interview-with-amaka-azie-author-of-melodies-of-love/

June 15, 2005: A Day To Remember.

My first love Ginny said, “No!” The date remains resolute for these reasons:

1. It was her birthday.

2. I was crying as I walked aimlessly through the night’s busy streets.

It was Ginny’s birthday and I had waited for a year to ask her out.

She became my neighbour in December, 2003. She had it all; charm, looks, manners and beautiful innocence. We had many fleeting encounters while fetching water. Silence was our music, loud and deafening silence. I was silent because, like the lion in the savannah, I don’t get many chances at success. She was probably silent because she was super shy.

After months of observing the target like a hapless lion, the chance to move in came on her birthday. Kudos to Ibby for stirring up my creative juices! I went poetic on Ginny. I believe it was a diary of events about our meeting that I managed to conjure up. It was so exquisite Martin Scorsese would love to adapt it into a movie.... http://syncityng.com/2018/07/02/the-love-travails-of-brother-w-iam-wilzspec/

Hello Saturday! It’s Another Wedding Party” by Tosan Tarre

Every Nigerian loves wedding ceremonies, no, that’s not right, every Nigerian loves wedding receptions and I am not afraid to generalize. You see, no one really likes to sit through three boring hours listening to the officiating minister drone on about cliche marital vows; no one and I daresay not even the couple because if you have very sharp eyes like mine, you might catch the groom dozing off every now and then.

There are two main reasons Nigerians love wedding receptions; one, everyone gets to show off their own style of the uniform asoebi on the dance floor and two, the food. We all look forward to the food. Jollof rice in particular.
On this day, my best friend and I were already seated at the reception hall. It was at a restaurant a stone’s throw from the church so the couple would have no difficulty or delay in getting here early.

Women in geles the color of grape juice were laughing and gisting, their voices blending with the noise from the speakers, men in filas greeting friends or typing something on their smart phones, little boys and girls dressed up in their very best running about with happy faces. It was the perfect ambience of a Nigerian party... http://syncityng.com/2018/06/30/hello-saturday-its-another-wedding-party-by-tosan-tarre/

For Boys Like Me Who Have No Father by John Chizoba Vincent

Dear Boys:

“I know how much it hurts and how much it feels to live in this world without a father but in the merciful hand of a single brave woman who stands a mother to break herself, arrange herself and disguised herself so that you can live. Yes! I know how the pains run straight into the vein to torment you daily.

I know how it feels wearing the same shoes with you but I have dusted and dried my tears many years ago. I just have to live and leave the scars that fatherliness has printed in me. We may bark from the ocean of sadness to ocean of sorrow trying to hide ourselves into the album of disgrace and shame. We may leave our glory to be downcasted by the thought of how to make it in life but, have it in mind that the same heat that drives home confusion is the same heat that cooks the food we eat.

I have watched the glory of boys trampled upon by strangers... http://syncityng.com/2018/06/29/for-boys-like-me-who-have-no-father-by-john-chizoba-vincent/

An Interview with Frankie Edozien 2018 Lamba Literary Award Winner

Growing up in Lagos, Nigeria, Chiké Frankie Edozien learned to read from the newspapers his father brought home daily. He grew up to become an ink-stain scribbler telling the stories of others in service of a greater good. Edozien currently teaches journalism at New York University. Prior to that, he was an award-winning metro reporter in New York City.

He is the author of the groundbreaking memoir ‘Lives of Great Men:’ Living & Loving As An African Gay Man which won the 2018 Lambda Literary award for biography/memoir.


Ladies and Gentlemen, let’s usher in our guest for today: Welcome sir! Nice to have you on the SyncityNG Literary Lords and Ladies show

Thanks so very much!



First question: What made you release the book? Any reason why you felt it was time to put the book out?

The impetus for the book was simple. As a journalist I had seen the swift changes in mood, and tolerance of difference all around the continent. It seemed that in many countries it was becoming fashionable to demonize brothers and sisters who are a little different.

And so, when it became more a case of the brute force of the state going against its own citizens and the excuse was always, that sexual diversity was alien to our culture... http://syncityng.com/2018/06/29/an-interview-with-frankie-edozien-2018-lamba-literary-award-winner/

Kerete sat on the low wooden stool, chopping vegetables on a tray that he balanced on his laps. The knife went chop-chop; he had to be fast or when his madam came into the kitchen, she would yank his ears and give him a blow on the back.

Tried as much he could to concentrate, his mind kept replaying the phone conversation he’d had with his sister the day before.

“Brother Kerete,” Aniema’s voice had sounded frantic and teary, “doctor say if we no do the operation fast fast for Mama say she go die. Abeg, brohda send us some money.”

Kerete had never felt so helpless as he did when he talked with his sister. He wanted to blurt out the painful reality; that he had no money, that the highest amount of money he had ever received from his boss was a fifty naira note and that was to buy beans for his breakfast.

Instead, he said, “No worry, I go soon send money to una... http://syncityng.com/2018/06/29/the-houseboy-a-short-story-by-tosan-tarre/

Our guest on today’s show has been published in Ebedi Review, Brittle paper, Afridiaspora and Wawa Book Review.
He is none other than the amazing Troy Onyango!!!

Let’s usher him in with a round of applause, please. Hello, Troy. Welcome to the show. Nice to have you here.
Thank you.

Let’s get started. Please tell us how fulfilling it is to be a writer. If it is not, please state same.
In every way imagined, writing has been the very fulfilling. I move around every day and take the world in through writing.

A couple of my previous Nigerian guests have said writing is not lucrative... http://syncityng.com/2018/06/11/i-dont-write-for-money-i-write-for-my-perception-of-the-world-troy-onyango/

“If you tell me, I won’t beat you.”

One of the greatest scam of all next to, “Go and put on your shoes, I’ll wait for you,”

Lol.

Let’s go a bit legal: Privileged Communication protects the client from having his information disclosed in a court of law unless he waives it. Such privileged information exists between a doctor and a patient, lawyer and client, between spouses and you can bet that it exists between teachers, parents and the children.
Hold up! It happens between siblings too.
Especially when one has done something wrong.

“Tell me. I won’t tell daddy or mommy.”

You spill and the next thing you hear right... http://syncityng.com/2018/06/28/my-children-and-i-with-abigail-adetokunbo/

“Darling Sister” by Light

Darling girl, come here, I have a story to tell

of when you were a little tot into a well you almost fell

Your elder sister went to take a leak

One minute, you were at the door, the next you were not

The thoughts that ran through her head made her weak

To think that you were lost

She searched here, she searched there, cried your name
http://syncityng.com/2018/06/27/darling-sister-by-light/

I usually developed a sickness whenever I was about to write any exam; the first time it happened was before my Common Entrance Examinations into the Junior Secondary School. When it started again a few days to my Junior Secondary School Examinations and it was starting to look like a very serious condition, I had to be taken to the hospital, and there, the doctor told my parents that it was nothing more than an anxiety attack.
Unsatisfied with this report and being the over-spiritual people that they were, they concluded that I had to go for deliverance.

It was a dry fasting; I wasn’t allowed to eat anything until the third day. They said I had evil spirits in me that was against my promotion to a greater level and so I was to spend the three days and night in church. I obeyed, and left home for church.
What happened on the night of the third day will forever be fresh in my memory... http://syncityng.com/2018/06/12/to-pieces-a-short-story-by-samuel-olayiwola/

Yejide Kilanko was born in Ibadan, Nigeria. She is a writer of poetry, fiction, and a therapist in children’s mental health.

Her debut novel, DAUGHTERS WHO WALK THIS PATH, was first published by Penguin Canada in April 2012. Her novella, CHASING BUTTERFLIES, was first published by Worldreader in March 2015. A lover of good music and laughter, Kilanko and her family live in Ontario, Canada.



#Synners, let’s welcome on @yejidekilanko on the #SyncityNGLiteraryLordsandLadies show!!

Thank you for having me.



Please tell us about releasing your debut novel in 2012 after being on the scene for a while. Why the wait?

I started my first novel manuscript in 2009 and published in 2012 http://syncityng.com/2018/06/25/4075/

Whenever my lips stretched out for a kiss, you looked left and right and left again, making sure no one was watching. Then you would lock your lips in mine in a rush and we would both laugh and laugh and laugh.

Our love was young, blooming into the future. I was going to be the father you never had and you promised to replace my mother who had died years ago.

One day, we sneaked out of school while others practiced for Inter-house sports. We tiptoed into the house through the backdoor. We lay on my bed, clothes carpeting the floor.

Seeing your unclothedness was like a dream come true. Your beauty beneath marched the one outside, you were perfect.

Your waist was full of flesh... http://syncityng.com/2018/06/18/to-love-her-forever-or-not-a-short-story-by-darlington-chibuzor/

If you missed the twitterview with Azafi, good news! you can catch up on the blog.

Our first guest on the #SyncityNGPublisherseries is the CEO of Parresia, a publishing company established to publish and promote books of first time Nigerian and African authors.

Before the establishment of  Parrésia, she worked as an Editor for Kachifo Limited publishers of Farafina Magazine.

She loves to read and dedicates her self to the promotion of Literature and is married with 3 children.

Ladies and gentlemen, make some noise!!
Let’s begin. Why do publishers publish just a few books out of the thousands of manuscripts sent in annually?

Well it boils down to finances. We live in an unfriendly economy. Although we’d love to publish a lot of the excellent stories we discover, we honestly can’t.


Basically, it’s a money situation... Continue reading at https:///2tvai0C

Born in Kano, Hadiza Isma El-Rufai holds BSc and MSc degrees in Architecture from Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria, Nigeria, and an MBA degree from the same university. She also has an MA in Creative Writing from Bath Spa University, Bath, UK.

She is the founder of the Yasmin El-Rufai Foundation which aims to awaken and nurture creativity in children, and improve the literacy skills of disadvantaged young women in northern Nigeria.

Hadiza currently lives in Kaduna with her husband and children. An Abundance of Scorpions is her first novel.

This Monday, Hadiza El-Rufai will be our guest on the #SyncityNGLiteraryLordsandLadies show!!
If you are excited for this, let me hear a "whoop! whoop!"

If you would like to be tagged, kindly drop your Twitter handle in the comments section ���

Growing up in Lagos, Nigeria, Chiké Frankie Edozien learned to read from the newspapers his father brought home daily. He grew up to become and ink-stain scribbler telling the stories of others in service of a greater good. Edozien currently teaches journalism at New York University. Prior to that he was an award winning metro reporter in New York City.

His work has also appeared in The New York Times, Quartz, Time Magazine, The Times (UK) GlobalPost, Out Traveler, Edge, Colorlines, Vibe Magazine, the New York Amsterdam News, the Advocate and more.

He is a contributor to the 2016 Commonwealth Writers anthology, Safe House: Explorations in Creative Nonfiction and in 2017 his ‘Last night in Asaba’ was published by Jalada Africa/Transitions.

He is the author of the groundbreaking memoir ‘Lives of Great Men:’ Living & Loving As An African Gay Man which won the 2018 Lambda Literary award for biography/memoir.
He is our next guest on #SyncityNGLLL.
Keep a date with us.

Tonight Monday 11/6/18
Time: 7pm.
Venue: Twitter @syncityng.

If you wish to be notified, please follow @syncityng and drop your handles.

On June 12th 2018, Nigerian author and lawyer of repute, Dele Ogun will be launching his book, A Fatherless People in Lagos. We are pleased to announce that we are a part of the publicity tour as we know this book will resonate with you, our audience.

Anyone interested in British colonial history, and how as the result of this, Nigeria became effectively one nation to the outside world, though internally riven with strife among its multitudinous ethnic groups–the main of which are the Igbos, the Hausas and the Yorubas – should read this book. It outlines in graphic detail – and without mincing words – how the colonial British rulers played a duplicitous role, not keeping promises made, and pitting one ethnic group and one region against another.

Continue reading at https:///2M2B5Jv

When you have been abused, when you are a victim of constant sexual abuse, do you hide your scars or tell your story?

@idonthidemyscars is a writer whose book is about her sexual abuse.

She was abused by her father, different pastors, gang raped and shipped off to prostitution. Sexually abused by nothing less than 20 men.

Continue reading at https:///2kKbx7w

When young poet Romeo Oriogun began his writing career, it was mainly to express himself how he wanted it but that would prove a difficult journey as many people who read his work found his themes too dangerous for society standards.

....................................

In his words, "I had someone who wanted to censor my voice and wished I wrote about 'safer' themes. While it may have come out of place of concern, it affected me and made me doubt so many things about myself and my poetry."

.....................................

Refusing to pay heed to society conform to the norm, Romeo would go ahead to write an LGBTQ-themed poem which went on to win the 2017 Brunel Prize for poetry.

"Is being vocal stupid? Audre Lourde said “your silence won’t save you” and if people chose to be vocal about their struggles it’s their lives, let them fight the way they know how and trust me, we know what we are getting into..."


Continue reading at https:///2Jdvan6

Pa Ikhide's thoughts on the Caine prize 2018 shortlist:

"Those who write should write, those who read should read. There are lovely pieces that have been written that are filled with misery. It’s not about the theme, it’s about the writing. It’s awful, and poorly edited. These stories were not ready for prime time.

Wole Talabi’s Wednesday Story needs an editor and a weed wacker to prune it into a disciplined story. Still, I’ve seen more creative stuff on social media. SMH!..."

Continue reading at https:///2kLtYbH

I have managed to squeeze every bit of my body

inside a green colored suitcase and I am going to
find home in the mouth of

a place whose fire has long eloped with the wind.

I remember holding my sides with my fingers as laughs nearly

ruptured my body but now that place is a shadow, a redundant
figure of once it once was.
.
http://syncityng.com/2017/11/27/poem-touch-home-michael-ifeanyi-akuchie/

I have managed to squeeze every bit of my body

inside a green colored suitcase and I am going to
find home in the mouth of
a place whose fire has long eloped with the wind.

I remember holding my sides with my fingers as laughs nearly
ruptured my body but now that place is a shadow, a redundant
figure of once it once was.

To touch home is to hurry towards the sun and try not to
succumb to the death that kills bodies after donkey hours on
a non air conditioned bus where Tekno is spitting rubbish that your
countrymen revere and welcome with outstretched arms.

You should be welcomed too.

To touch home however is to meet
faces changed by time, the economy and other demons.

Continue reading at http://syncityng.com/2017/11/27/poem-touch-home-michael-ifeanyi-akuchie/