Post has attachment
"I don't set too much store by dreams, but it's probably unwise to ignore this kind. These are the kind of dreams that show you you're not doing so well, that you haven't accepted what you thought you'd accepted, that you're a mess, lying there like you've been hit by a bus, your heart and mind standing over you tutting and trying to figure out what even happened, never mind fixing it." - Boy Novak in "Boy, Snow, Bird" by Helen Oyeyemi

Post has attachment
"Such great potential. You people could easily become the Japan of Africa, the USA of Africa, but the corruption is incredible." - Floode in Oil on Water

Post has attachment

Post has attachment
"Isn't it brave to be dutiful?" she asks, because it is what she believes. "Doing things because they're right, even if you don't really like having to do them."
"Not always." He is silent for a while, watching her spread a clean sheet of paper over the cage's floor. "For me, I think being brave would be pleasing myself. But I'm scared..." - Flight by Jayne Bauling

Post has attachment
"'Go,' she said, standing up, 'and always remember, our land is a land of pygmies. We are like crabs in a basket; we pull down whoever dares to stand up for what is right. Always remember that.'" - Aunty Rachael in Waiting for an Angel by Helon Habila

Post has attachment

Post has attachment
"When I saw him, I knew he was at the university not because he was supposed to be, but because, like me, he felt that was where he belonged, among the bright, future generation. Like me, he had told everyone he knew and met that he was a student, and at that time both of us were convinced that someday we would be. It was with this understanding - that we were both liars and frauds, poorly equipped to play roles we had chosen - that Isaac approached me... In the province of the slums we meant little to each other. Here we were everything." - Isaac in All Our Names by Dinaw Mengestu

Post has attachment
"'Again! I want to go again!'
'Me too!' his brother cried. 
They both dipped their heads back and there was no more noise. She held them there, quietly, beneath the surface, as they looked up at her. They were smiling, but the mother could no longer smile. There was a thin film of scum around the edge of the bath. The extractor fan labored to remove steam from the windowless room. She sighed and closed her eyes. If she screamed no one would hear. She knew this; she had screamed before. She looked down at their smiling faces, their wide eyes, the brown skin against white enamel. She wondered how a person could live, yet not be alive..." - A Life Elsewhere by Segun Afolabi

Post has attachment
"The boy is eleven, but has eaten poorly all his life and looks much younger. He is crying. He is trying to explain something. Someone told me to do it, he says... The tire is flung around the boy. He is losing consciousness but revives with sudden panic when he is doused with petrol... He glistens. The begging stops... The whites of his eyes are bright as lamps. And then only the last thing, which is soon supplied. The fire catches with a loud gust, and the crowd gasps and inches back. The boy dances furiously but, hemmed down by the tire, quickly goes prone, and still... The crowd, chattering and sighing, momentarily sated, melts away... Traffic quickly reconstitutes around the charred pile. The air smells of rubber, meat, and exhaust." - Every Day Is for the Thief

Post has attachment
Wait while more posts are being loaded