Fiction

Memory on Canvas

He throws his frustration at the canvas, and with every stroke he makes a stab at forgetting; forgetting what she looked like; forgetting why he failed her.

There was such a time when he took pride in the decision he …

15 Shares

When I was writing my bones

ABEOKUTA

I’m sitting on the cold floor of a hotel room in a strange town, crying. I’ve finally figured out why I came here. It wasn’t for solitude, as I had convinced myself and told my sisters when I left …

41 Shares

Strangers

 

by TONI KAN

 

 

NOBODY saw them arrive.

But believe me when I say that everyone knew when they left; none of us on that street will forget even if we lived to be hundred.

They were two …

59 Shares

Spiritual Attack

NNEKA WENT to work in spite of what happened the previous day. Yesterday, she arrived at work and stared blankly at the Finacle software after she tried to log in for the fourth time. The veracity of the whispers she …

157 Shares

Deletion

I HAVE given much thought to dying since I discovered my fate. I try to get used to the idea of death, to resign myself. Thoughts of the last minute, of falling into darkness, intrigue me and cause a shiver …

18 Shares

Red Lace

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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