youth

Funmi

I first met Funmi when I was fifteen, in my fourth year of secondary school. My parents had been separated for two years by then, and I’d returned from London with my father the year before—someone I hated with fervent intensity. I loved my mother dearly, however, and I didn’t want to burden her with…

The River

There’s a river beside the trees that flows around the broken glass and hurries through the trays of ash that choke the birds, and hush their words and dull the budding roses. It winds around the crumbling brick, surging past half-painted walls and echoing through empty halls to wane and crash, break back and splash…