A girl named Melody

© Folakemi Emem-Akpan After four boys, I was tired, fed-up, sick of maleness. It screamed at me from every corner of our home; toy trucks, smelly boots, and discarded car projects. All of me ached for a baby with long dark hair, curly eyelashes, and pink gowns. She was a surprise. The scan prepared our... Continue Reading →

Posterity

Posterity (c) Folakemi Emem-Akpan My womb has never cooked babies right. Three times, it spat them out before they were ready to breathe. They would come, slick with blood, perfect little things, all ten fingers and toes complete, only that they were unable to take a first breath. They would present them to me from... Continue Reading →

Into God’s Kingdom

Into God’s kingdom © Folakemi Emem-Akpan   It is a decision no man should have to make.   Twenty minutes seems so trivial in the detritus of daily life. It is all that is required to take a bath, finish a meal, make a phone call.   It was also all that was needed to... Continue Reading →

A legacy of unremoved shoes

A legacy of unremoved shoes © Folakemi Emem-Akpan   The day had begun to shorten, the sun slipping behind the mountains of Sopot. Yet, the mourners would not leave. To one side, Djordje and Jovana held hands, forgotten by all.   The previous year, they’d lost their father and their lives had suddenly shrunk to... Continue Reading →

Choorile

  Choorile © Folakemi Emem-Akpan   Sanil sits at the entrance of his home, his eyes turned towards the sky which is dark and low, a sure sign of rain. Absent-mindedly, he wonders if it would actually rain, how long such a rain might last, and he is grateful for the stilts on which his... Continue Reading →

Early

Early © Folakemi Emem-Akpan   Four weeks doesn’t seem like much. For heaven’s sake, it is only but a full moon. You can’t build a house in four weeks. You cannot sow and reap in four weeks. You don’t grow much in the space of four weeks.   But your life can take a dip... Continue Reading →

A white day

A white day © Folakemi Emem-Akpan   I should have known, should have prepared myself for the happenings of the day.   Yi never wore white, yet he went to work that morning wearing white shoes, a white cap pulled low over his head.   I stood at the doorway, fought the melancholic pull in... Continue Reading →

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