The rope almost loops / in an obvious feast of beheading.
Without a doubt, my friend has told you the tale about my parents, and about the various things that I experienced when I visited the Forest of Irunmale.
Nothing could prepare me for America.
“Don’t worry, it will be okay, these things happen for a reason,” Ma Bille said. “As I always say: the worst thing to happen to you is for the best—”
Names hold culture and history. They defend or surrender their bearer to the prejudices of the world. So what does it mean when your name doesn’t mean anything?
He takes her hand, careful to keep his eyes away from her dominant breasts, her full pouty lips, and they begin in the living room.
A massive collection of pre-digital photography shows a nation in transition—and manages bring Facebook-level connectivity into a gallery space.
Young Lagosian photographers examine the corners of their city that often go unseen.
In an excerpt from his long-awaited memoir, the inventor of the post-colonial African novel in English discusses his origins as a writer and the seeds of revolt against the British Empire.
If you must travel, travel by Amtrak. Trains are safe, buses are not. I mean safe from raids by the INS.
Photos of empty performance spaces in Lagos capture the spirit of Fela Kuti’s famous nightclub and strip back the chaos of one of the world’s busiest cities.
A selection of work from the 2011 Lagos Photo Festival by forty photographers from around the world.
Lagos Photo Festival founder Azu Nwagbogu on combating Afro-pessimism, the dialogue between Africa and the West, and depicting the “other Africa” of industry and intellect.
“It is bad that a man who has swum in the great River Niger should be drowned in its small tributary.”
Sochienne called her a fat bourgeois, a dilettante dancing while Nigeria was failing, as though she could somehow solve the country’s problems by depriving herself of a manicure.
My friends in the camp are known by the inscriptions written on their t-shirts. Acapulco wears a t-shirt with the inscription, Acapulco. Sexy’s t-shirt has the inscription Tell Me I’m Sexy. Paris’s t-shirt says See Paris And Die.
The sergeant dealt him a series of rapid-fire slashes across the face with his whip, and then dragged him to the edge of the flooded pit.