I am concerned. The city is stirring rather slowly. The weekend activities...
In this 24th year of Time of the Writer Festival as we...
Crickets are chirpin’ the water is high There’s a soft cotton dress on the line hangin’ dry Window wide open African trees Bent over backwards from a hurricane breeze Not...
You will write long letters home, letters that will never make it home, because if your mom ever reads them, she’ll tell you “come back home, omo mi, at least there is food in your mother’s house ”. And she will nag you until you do, even though you do want to.
Writing has always been a pleasure. Even as a boy at school...
Tam lived in his soul; wholly, for the cackle at the end of his laughter. Those who heard it knew it. He lived for the sheer joy of his work and others. Oh his work, for which he suffered, for which he tortured himself. He did not quite believe in how f-cking good he was. He sought perfection that did not exist. He discarded what others would keep and he had a great fear of success; of the opulence and attention and grief it brought.
The news that came from Johannesburg, South Africa on July 19 was...
My father left me everything: his library, his Christian Women Mirror magazines, his face and the memory of his disappointment the first time I told him I wanted to be a writer. I remember the evening well.
Members of the African diaspora last week transformed USC’s Bing Theatre into a showcase of traditional Nigerian music, culture and folklore as they gathered from around the world to watch...
Dr. Stanley Nkwachikwelumamaya Macebuh was a rare breed in the freshest sense...
thelagosreview.ng is seeking insightful, poignant, detailed, and well-written essays in which the writer expresses his/her/their motive for relocation or migration and the effect of that movement on their craft.
Most of the art, writing and other major forms of creativity being produced today are simply worthless. These forms merely cater to the imperatives of capital or else uncontrollable impulses...
