The matters of the mind, perhaps, might be a more fitting description. The heart is often misconstrued as software; it is rather a fist-size muscle lodged in a rib-cage compelled to whip the body into inevitable exhaustion. The mind is the place of memories, the parlour of thoughts, the hacienda of imaginations, the bedroom of introspection, the bar room of puzzlement. The go-to place when confusion dares one’s sanity, when insecurities threaten, when decisions are to be made, when expositions are to be grieved.
Find here a cache of short poems and short stories from promising writers from Africa, writing in Africa. Follow them as they grapple with different phases of solitude: from avulsion of romantic partners to a search for solitude that leads to a brief stint in a mental institution. And in your solitary experience, while you grasp at the realities of others, ask yourself what it means to be alone.
Saddiq Dzukogi, “Solitude.”
Olajide Salawu, “End of Discussion.”
Rasaq Gbolahan, “Ajoke,” “Solitude.”
Paul Njoroge, “Lonesome Tree of Ténéré”
Kechi Nomu, “Other Valuable Angles.”
Sihle Ntuli, “Burn,” “March 4th.”
Ekweremadu Uchenna, “Swing.”
Yusuff Omoloja, “Fine Days.”
Mathias Orhero & Freeman David, “How does it feel to be a Problem?”
Efe Paul, “Memory on Canvass.”
Iquo Eke, “Yellow Slipper.”
Adebola Rayo, “When I was writing my bones.”
Dare Falowo, The Visions of Atanda Ekun
Arthur Anyaduba, “The Cinema.”