Afritondo — Afritondo

Purity and the F Word

Christina Purity bought a bottle full of curry spice and thyme and stuck it deep into her vagina so she could spice up her sex life

FictionFestus Obehi DestinyAugust 15, 2021Short Story, Boarding School, bullying Comment

Audio: Collector of Memories

A story from The Hope, The Prayer, The Anthem. Written by Joshua Chizoma. Read by Amanda.

Podcast, AudioJoshua ChizomaAugust 14, 2021short story, AudioComment

Collector of Memories

Shortlisted for the 2021 Afritondo Short story Prize

FictionJoshua ChizomaAugust 8, 2021Afritondo Short Story Prize Comments

NOT FOR SALE

A poem by Muyiwa Adesokun

PoetryMuyiwa AdesokunJuly 25, 2021Poem, Child marriage, Nigeria Comments

Confessions of a Third World Peace Merchant

I get a wonderful greedy feeling in my stomach that POOP Matters will be back here once the opposition leader gets into power and gets drunk with it and morphs into another problematic dictator.

EssayJames KarugaJuly 24, 2021Satire, DictatorComment

Ashes to Ashes

The first thing we saw was a big chimney that expelled the soot of lost brothers and sisters that couldn’t breathe anymore.

FictionThabo Clive MathonsiJuly 23, 2021COVID-19, Short Story, ZimbabweComment

My Abroad Husband

I don’t understand why a man should not once in a while prefer the natural feminine scent of his woman. All this fake fake perfume lifestyle is not my thing.

FictionJessica NwosuJuly 19, 2021Short Story, Pidgin English, Jessica Nwosu Comments

Farmer’s Boy

He was called farmer’s boy within the household, he said, because of what his fingers could do on a piece of farmland.

FictionMichael EmmanuelJuly 10, 2021Michael Emmanuel, Rape Comments

No Better Way to Recollect

But then the war came, and they rapidly became adults, people who could make their own decisions.

FictionOrji Victor EbubechukwuJuly 2, 2021short story, Biafra, Biafra War, Orji Victor EbubechukwuComment

I Am Not a Machine: Thoughts on the Limits of Human Productivity

We don’t stop to ask why everything we do must be in service of a goal. Some things do not have a point, only existing for pleasure and delight, and that is part of the magic of being alive.

EssayMichelle ChepchumbaJune 26, 2021Michelle Chepchumba, work, NairobiComment

‘living next to the woman on the mat'

A poem on Liberia by Edwin Olu Bestman

PoetryEdwin Olu BestmanJune 19, 2021Liberia Comments

Encountering Homecoming

I can imagine him, my father, some pride in his voice, informing his friend that his son, a boy they had watched grow up, had left home.

EssayNzube NlebedimJune 18, 2021Caine Prize, Remy Ngamije, Home Comments

Of the people, by the people

They will forbid their people from voting for anyone that is not Musa. The subjects will take the news to their four wives. Their wives will tell their neighbours. The neighbours will tell their children, and the children will write ‘Sai Musa’ on every wall they see on every street.

Essay, PoliticsSa'id Sa'adJune 12, 2021Nigeria, Satire, Election, Sa'id Sa'ad Comments

Area Boy

When you give him rice, he barely eats a spoonful. You don’t know if it is because the rice is plain even for your standards or if it is because pain has filled his stomach.

FictionEwa Gerald OnyebuchiJune 9, 2021Ewa Gerald Onyebuchi, short story, Area boyComment

For the sake of what burns

I just remember that he looked like a man in no hurry, like he owned time.

FictionRutendo S MaturureMay 29, 2021Zimbabwe, Rutendo Maturure, short story Comment

Elegy for my mother

A poem by Ayooluwa Olasupo

PoetryAyooluwa Olasupo (Imisi)May 27, 2021Ayooluwa Olasupo Comments

Okukor

there was a breeze that day. / The day the Oba’s artisan / began to model Okukor / using his fine metal comb.

PoetryEfua BoaduMay 22, 2021Efua Boadu, AfricaComment

When The Flutist Burns His Pipe: The Rise of Queer and Emigration Literature in Africa

Morality, then, is a weapon, and generations of Africans have been indoctrinated into its famed cult. You should then be far from startled that the mere mention of homosexuality, although practised in veiled quarters for traditional, spiritual, or aesthetic purposes, is never given a fair hearing

EssayNzube NlebedimMay 15, 2021Queer, Literature, Emigration, Africa Comments