The Coming Battle

Our nation has entered its harmattan, at a time the season has not reached its own cycle or begun the cyclical journey around itself. The harmattan, as we know it in our part, is that dry and lean period of the year when men, women, plants, and generally nature itself, give in to the hardships…

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The guise of strangeness

Until his sudden demise in a plane crash two years ago, my friend and kindred poet, Professor Pius Adesanmi, had a way of prodding me back to memory – that uncontested space where reflections become a burden and a necessity. A few years ago, during our telephone conversation in which we threw banter at each…

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