Someday, Cletus will become ‘the Shoulder’ you lean on. He’ll express his affection for you, desiring more than just friendship. Because in your last skin, you have learned what he meant, you’ll accept it. He’ll tell you to meet him at his home. You’ll go and he’ll smile when you arrive, groping you, pulling off your clothes from the door.
It Happened In February | a short story by Olajesutofunmi Akinyemi
And despite her fear that he had seen what she’d been up to, a warmth spread across her chest. This was her husband who laughed like Goofy from Mickey Mouse; her husband who, while they were dating, once came to her house by midnight with small chops because she couldn’t stop crying. Her heart clenched; she had to know if there was another woman.
The Passing of Time | a CỌ́N-SCÌÒ photo speak by Kukogho Iruesiri Samson
The first image shows the effects of the Fall/Winter, when trees shed all their leaves, revealing naked trunks and branches. With the passage of TIME, and the coming of Summer/Spring, the trees are dressed up in glorious green again.
Subtle Signs | a CỌ́N-SCÌÒ photospeak by Adedayo Agarau
The signs are subtle, yet, they are deafening & blinding.
Roving Bodies | An essay by Edwin Mamman
One of the difficult parts of moving was having to explain to friends and neighbours why we’d no longer be living ‘here’ next year. Saying goodbye and ending friendships you had forged. It was always sad to leave people behind.
‘Left Behind’ & ‘Everywhere, Anywhere’ | two CỌ́N-SCÌÒ art by Grafreaks
So much is said about those who leave, but no one spares a thought for those who are left behind to pick up the pieces of nations broken apart by decades of greed and corruption
The Nomadic Entourage | a CỌ́N-SCÌÒ art by Ibrahim Ajani Lawal
One of the defining characteristics of the Fulani people is their strong sense of community, evident in their custom of never walking alone and always undertaking ‘work and walk’ collectively.
Migrant | a CỌ́N-SCÌÒ poem by Oladosu Michael Emerald
the waves
that brought
you here
say the shore
is not your home
The Need To Be Warm | a CỌ́N-SCÌÒ poem by Sadiq Abdulsalam Adeiza
we who tiptoe around the light
taking shadows for duvet
artful dodgers
wary of being razed
A Night Full of Imaginations | a CỌ́N-SCÌÒ poem by Sa’ada Isa Yahaya
I want to tell him that I have no prayers left to render,
that my fingers are strangers to the Tasbeeh.
But I roll my tongue towards forgiveness before I sin again.