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Read the current publications on the SprinNG website for April 2021. Write a comment on 2 or more of the publications posted on the website for April 2021. Please add your name and email address when filling the comment box. Note: Email address will not be made public. See the guide to providing good feedback below TIPS FOR WRITING GOOD FEEDBACK The goal of providing feedback is: 1. to invite another reader into the world of beauty you have seen in a work 2. to provide a very brief summary of what you read 3. to give your interpretation/perspective of what has been written 4. to provide suggestions for improvement We encourage that your comment meets at least 2 of these goals. The SprinNG team will evaluate the comments and select the winner of the book at the end of the month. Note: Comment on the poems, book reviews, articles, interviews and guest posts.
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Mbanefo Chibuike is a native storyteller and poet who graduated from the Federal University of Technology Owerri with First Class Honours. Most of his work centers on darkness, sexuality, and death. His story Desolate Room which explored sickle cell anemia in the prehistoric Nigerian family, was published in Dwarts Magazine of African and Mainstream Literature Issue 6. His short story titled Burying Memories recently was longlisted in the 2018 K & L Prize for African Literature.
To heal from these things he cannot name, he began to live them in poems. His poem Eleven Forms of Death was shortlisted for the 2018 Creative Freelance Writerz Biannual Literary Award. The same year, he appeared in multiple shortlists such as the Christopher Okigbo Poetry Prize, Eriata Oribhabor Poetry Prize, Poets in Nigeria Food Poetry Contest, Great African Poets Award, Samson Abanni Poetry Contest for his poems Man in the wind, Stripping a river its name, A Lagos of burnt boys, My father's burial through his body and Be home to our memories. Chibuike hopes for the blessings of writing stories and poems that dispossess and malign people. Some of his other works have appeared in Kalahari Review, Brittle Paper, OkadaBooks, Creative Freelance Writerz magazines, Poets in Nigeria Journals, and other online platforms. Your body is a house of god. Or a collection of boys.
By Mbanefo Chibuike & you were twelve when a boy first called you baby - & you ran into the eye of the night. Your body learns how to hold names on Fridays and whip them into the confession box two days later. Your body wishes coyness isn't flirtatious - how a house of god is a good girl & a bad girl is a collection of boys. But Handel's Hallelujah is a god’s song you hum before giving a lover this body. The first time you picked pieces of your heart, ducking on your tears, your fingers wandered towards your vulva & you watched the emptiness fill you. Mother could be right -
Spanning across four decades, Cheluchi Onyemelukwe-Onuobia’s debut novel, The Son of the House, is a compact tale of two women of different ages and opposite social class. Nwabulu, a fifty-something-year-old fashion designer, who spent her early years serving as a housemaid is kidnapped in the company of Julie, the septuagenarian, who has lived a life of glamour. They exchange stories to while away time, and there, Julie comes clean about the gravest deceit of her adult life leading to the realization that they have, in the past or present, held strange comforts for each other’s aches.
Graffitis
By Mbanefo Chibuike again. & again everything broken heals as a reminder of scents left behind. the night is held in fragments of prayers & this is how darkness falls off your mouth your unfurled tongue knowing the taste of tequilas & the language of grief is a boy emptying himself into you your fragile body is a lean canvas where he tries to paint Christ just before an angry mob resurrects on his bare skin. your arms are not wide enough to hold photographs of city walls defaced by the ghosts of your lover - denial eases grief, here's what it means to love to return & live in the skin of another boy - darkness teaches the night holders to become inscriptions. Read More about the Author Here - www.nigerianwriters.info/mbanefo-chibuike Be Home to Our Memories
By Mbanefo Chibuike The morning we decided to leave home you spoke the language of the legs, turning our bodies into the ravenous night - from watching the sun rise into mother's face to our eyes feeding off the lush vegetation. You fold our memories into this emptiness my mother's hands - in us, you paint a picture of sojourners whose shadows remain erased in the sun - and you this mournful recollection stranding our new beginnings between trees. |
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