“My voice is pleading to be heard by a room crowded with people. It doesn’t care if their faces are frightening or happy. It just wants to engulf the room and be listened to.”
A LETTER TO AUGUST | a CỌ́N-SCÌÒ short story by Jola Praise Ademola
The letter was addressed to her. Written simply on the cover, in a bold script, was: ‘A letter to August’ and on the inside: ‘I know what you did’. She lifted off the lid from the box. Lying there was a bloodied finger wearing a wedding band.
SERENDIPITY | a CỌ́N-SCÌÒ short story by Popoola Ololade Aderemi
You see the barely noticeable smile on her face. Her face. In a split second, you sweep your gaze over it and rest your eyes on the birthmark above her eyebrow. You wonder if this is what love feels like.
THE DOLL | a CỌ́N-SCÌÒ short story by Brigitte Poirson
If this was what was lurking at the back of his mind, what was the point of taking the time to reflect on the situation? If you trust someone, empower this person with your loving care, accompany him/her along toil and dreams, and (s)he still looks askance in a quest for ‘other loves’, why should you stick to that person at all?
F/R/A/C/T/I/O/N/S | a CỌ́N-SCÌÒ poem by Chidera Udochukwu
The Ogas at the top just like Big Brother have an all-seeing eye,
If you dare say a word they will flip the switch, plunge us into darkness.
Esperance | a CỌ́N-SCÌÒ poem by Grace Orobosa
Am I a poetaster, finding solace in the sanctuary of poetry?
Or am I a poet, eccentric in style and yearning for peace?
Káṣìmawò | a CỌ́N-SCÌÒ poem by Owólolá Àjúlékún
Olúmọ etched an epitaph
She inked a testament of tears
For her son’s fate was annulled
Home Is Where Our Tears Are Stored in Big Barrels | a CỌ́N-SCÌÒ poem by Igbokwe Roseline
And I tell you again that this home
Of mine is a mischief/milkmaid; milking tears from citizens
Untitled | a CỌ́N-SCÌÒ poem by Ivan De Monbrison
he was like a sexless mummy
resurrected from the grave
a castrated Lazarus
Street’s Song | a CỌ́N-SCÌÒ poem by Osho Tunde Matthew
A poet sitting by his shadow, his empty
cylinder, nothing to fire his hope tonight.