The sun in Agatha no longer felt warm and welcoming; it bore down on the travelling youth, glaring sullenly as if in spite. Uloma felt every shadow cast by the glare of the sun, but what she could not feel was the attention of the things, and that was all
Swaying, Oma jolted back to consciousness. She felt the stillness surrounding her long before her eyes shot narrowly open. “Uloma?” She said out loud to herself, as if tasting the word. What a queer name, she thought, but the name felt familiar; had she known an Uloma? Oma wondered as
Standing on the hill that overlooked the realm of Agatha, Uloma felt darkness temporarily fill her, but she shook it off consciously, not wanting Abali’s keen awareness to notice how affected she was from travelling this far with him. The darkness felt different from Abali’s, but she refused
Morning fell around the Cosmics; the sun filtered through the trees, flirting with their eyes and leaving them disgruntled. “Your lot cannot stand this little sunlight; how would they survive heaven?” Abu asked no one in particular, to the annoyed hiss of the people around him. Eligwe gave him an
The crescent moon poured through the night, showering the scenery in silver lighting. Glittering light floated ahead of the Cosmics as if shavings from the moon were falling around them. “I am uncomfortable.” Ekama laughed, still intoxicated from the enchantment. The crowd of Cosmics with her nodded enthusiastically, grumbling about
Oma pulled on her clothes, uncomfortable with how they made her feel and how they exposed her. It was not because people could see her thighs and stomach, she thought, trying to fold into herself; it was more that everyone could see her, and they were seeing her in a
Oma pulled on her clothes, uncomfortable with how they made her feel and how they exposed her. It was not because people could see her thighs and stomach, she thought, trying to fold into herself; it was more that everyone could see her, and they were seeing her in a
The excitement wafting from the crowd of waiting students could be harvested and sold for immense profit. Uloma sighed and looked over to Ekama; their conversation from the night before sat heavily on her mind. Ekama winked at her, smiling broadly, and holding on to Ogba’s muscular arm, she
The vibrant night carried smoke and dust as children kicked the earth in their exuberant dancing and wrestling. Children chattered to each other, giggling and laughing over new crushes and other children making fools of themselves. The festival of youth was a yearly event that Amara had only attended once.
Amara placed a drinking cup in front of her grandmother, kneeling with one knee in respect. Her grandmother gave her a barely perceptible nod and returned to her conversation with her daughter-in-law. “I am not saying that I have not come to terms with it.” Oge argued with a vigorous
Uwale rustled through the sheets and everything with the capacity to make a sound. Ekama’s wobbly dresser, a dark blue anthropomorphic shape shifter, stood in the middle of Ekama’s room, offering a display of everything Ekama would need to be fully dressed for the day. Ekama was telling
“I told you it was going to rain.” Nkemu said, scrambling up a pear tree, his thin hand unable to wrap around the thick trunk, held on to the sides in a way that made him appear to stick unnaturally to the tree. He moved like a frog through cocoyam
