A Clockwork

Photograph by Obuh Christopher Nelson

He begins his day by opening and closing his laptop. Slapping the laptop close brings a certain kind of pleasure. The pleasure of performing frustration. Of an inability to write. The kind one sees on

Turning To Look Back

Photograph by Ladan Osman


Once in Madison Square, I stopped a woman with a pram and she took a photo of me next to a sculpture. I was wearing my big jacket and I had to put my bag …

What is there to Say?

Photograph by Ladan Osman

When Ivie Idemudia begins to sneak into the boys’ room at age twelve to watch DVDs with naked women on the covers, she does it sloppily, sometimes forgetting to lock the door, sometimes forgetting the disc …

Pretty Bird

Photograph by Ladan Osman

She met him at a makeshift healing centre not far from a wrecked village. He had been wounded from the war against the machines and that was good enough reason. He said her eyes were his …


Photograph by Ladan Osman

The man who brought a miracle to the small town in northern Mozambique was both remarkable and ordinary. As an albino, he wasn’t an unfamiliar sight although other things indicated he was different; he walked with …

Call Me an Infidel

Photograph by Ladan Osman

You had never paid attention to your wife’s writing. You knew it wasn’t bad but you also knew she was too brilliant for you to question why she was so celebrated. All this would change after …

“We Deserve A Share Of Our Kinsman’s Money”

Esther Tabki arrived early in the evening, nine minutes after 8 o’clock, and was surprised to find the metal gate to the house locked. To check the address written on the back of a business card, she searched her handbag …


Hawkers, hustlers and beggars pressed their weary, weather-worn faces against the car’s tinted windows as Tijani told his madam the triplets could be bought and offered to a charity. Earlier, as they snailed along in the traffic jam near Magboro …

Stop It, I Like It

Credit: Serubiri Moses, from the Africa Issue (c) 2013


Tequila induced dreams always go the same way. Three shots, two shots, one shot, wait for my brain to get warmed and let the heat spread below till my fingers …

Credit: Issa Benn, used with permission.


Aunty Aggy swatted flies from the pyramid of tomatoes she was trying to sell, the ones at the bottom resting in a soupy mess of imminent rot.

“Ah, madam! This one kaa worry! Everything is fresh, just for you!”

The …

Saraba is a literary magazine focused on the work of new writers in Nigeria and other parts of the African continent. Since 2009, we have published several issues of a magazine, editions of poetry chapbooks, and online-only work.
Our ongoing Manuscript Project supports the publication of long-form fiction and nonfiction by ten new Nigerian writers.
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