Sticky post
-Nimi Wariboko Image Credit: Filipe Almeida On April 19, 2025, a cousin in the United States asked me for the Kalabari word for romantic lover. She believed there was no equivalent in the language. Below are the words I shared with her. Olosikiya: A Kalabari word for darling, lover, or beloved. Literally, it means the person who does not reject love or romantic relationship. The … Continue reading Olobo (Lover)
Sticky post
-Dayá»Ì AyĂlĂĄrĂĄ Image credit: Ahmad odeh It is the thinking that we have arrived when we are nowhere that made á»lá»Ìwá»Ì look á»ÌrĂșnmĂŹlĂ in the eye. The result was that yams no longer shot in their beds, small rivers wore garments of leaves birds’ songs hung in their startled throats. Like the striking of two red stones against each other in the birthing of fire that roasts yams … Continue reading It is the Thinking That We Have Arrived
Sticky post
-Dayá»Ì AyĂlĂĄrĂĄ Image Credit: Stephen Konev Sometimes, there are words but there’s no time. Sometimes, time converges like bees, while words escape through the hollow like ĂkĂ©tĂ©. But if we have words and time, let us sit down and break them. á»Ìjá»Ìgbá»Ìn said words are never finished in the house of á»lá»Ìrá»Ì. I took my journey to á»lá»Ìrá»Ì’s house on the hill of KĂ bĂŹtĂŹ. He offered me guinea corn-brewed beer, … Continue reading ĂkĂ©tĂ©
Sticky post
-Dayá»Ì AyĂlĂĄrĂĄ Image Credit: Alvaro Serrano BĂ ĂĄmi, I have walked the dusty roads where your feet once etched silence into the earth. I have tasted the harmattan and felt its wisdom blade my skin like the truths you carved into my ears with your eyesâ the only tool you ever needed to teach me reverence. They say time forgets, but I have not forgotten how you … Continue reading Letter to BĂ ĂĄmi
Sticky post
-Nket Godwin Image Credit: Emily Liang Once upon a life, at night or in the day, A frog may hop across the path in your choices. A bird may fall from the sky of your dreams. Isnât it funny how we still weep, Knowing whatever flies could fall? Sojourner, put your sorrows down, Rest a while, drink a cup of laughter. The road of life … Continue reading A Cup of Laughter
Sticky post
-Nket Godwin Image Credit: Kelvin Wang Your face has not touched my eyes, nor have my hands rubbed against yours. Yet youâve torched my dreams in many places. Your poems, before the road of my becoming, are fireflies guiding my art against wayside stones. I have not seen your mouth, nor sat where you ate, Yet youâve fed me full with crumbs of ancient root. I, … Continue reading Ogbowei
Sticky post
-Awodiya Funke Image Credit: Nicholas Beel I will tell your story Of farmlands and flourishing grassland I will tell the world about your flowing streams, Singing birds, on breadfruits trees A communal place for man and nature A hill of friendship you truly are Your heritage, my treasure On your river bank I found my peace Looking up at the blue sky to read the minds of my forebears Who saw tomorrow before it arrived And greened sacred heights with … Continue reading Hill of FriendshipÂ
Sticky post
-Akinola Sesan Image Credit: Luke Stackpoole The beginning is not the end … Continue reading The Beginning of A Biographical Note of Oluronbi
Sticky post
Emmanuel Olabiyi Image Credit: Hieu Do Quang (she is) a babylonian nile feathers of people shed bloods i dream about i walk past a lily heads figurined singing about happier moments at ten she actually is the sun inuring the waters for me to walk on i … Continue reading A Tribute To My Lost LoveÂ
Sticky post
Emmanuel Olabiyi Image Credit: Joseph Hoehne earlier today, the sun & my forehead contended: death is a walk to life, & two tiny brown ruminants, perched on iya roheemohâs hearth, still steal flamy glances; simmering, burning evenings on her inglorious grave. come; the Love of God & the Fellowship of the Holy Spirit drive unpigmented horses (in us) in diacritic circles like the idi ore mi … Continue reading Stoicism
Sticky post
-Daniel Yohanna Image Credit: Marcus Ganahl The night came without warning, thick, breathless, and bitter. In Damboa, the winds had whispered warnings, but no one truly listened to the wind until it screamed. That evening, it screamed with gunfire. The insurgents descended like locusts, swift, merciless, and loud. Aisha had been preparing dinner, her baby, cooing beside her, wrapped in an old blue blanket. The … Continue reading Daughter of My Sister
Sticky post
ArtisansQuillâs Issue 2 celebrates Black joy, heritage, and creative reinventionâold forms transformed into new worlds through poetry, prose, and reflection.
Continue reading Issue 2| Old Forms, New World| Editorial| Contributorsâ Bio
Sticky post
–Halima Ahmad He laid the long pipe to his lips and blew such sweet, commanding notes. We clapped, we danced, and ran like children after the wondrous sound. Alo alo, mu ci dadi! Like fowls in farmyards when the scattered barley hits the ground, Ku zo ga daula wa zai ki, Alo alo, mu ci dadi! Kowa ya bari, ta gota shi. Alo alo, mu ci dadi! And step for step we followed, dancing with a hopeful, laughing heart, … Continue reading The Pied PiperÂ
Sticky post
-Halima Ahmad Image CrĂ©dit: Julissa Santana Once upon a moonlit night,a whisper on her tongue, a wish, a fleeting fancy, sweet and young. In chambers draped with moonlit silk, she lies, Takitse, with fire in her eyes. To hold her breath, a captive of the night, and steal a moment, bathe in silver light. A haremâs secrets, her only shield, as dawnâs first light threatened … Continue reading A One Thousand and One Moonlit Night
Sticky post
Image Credit: Prince Akachi Ah, ah! So na she be your goddess now?I don see am well-well.That her skin wey shine like ebony and shea butter,E dey make my heart dey do yama-yama. Her mouth sweet like crimson flower,She dey waka like Queen of Savannah,She dey dance to music wey only she dey hear,And dey use am wound my heart. That her voice, wey sweet like honey,E dey mock my poor heart wey dey beat like drum.That her eye, deep like river for inside storm,E dey laugh as my hope con scatter finish. … Continue reading Na So She Be Your Goddess Now
Sticky post
-Halima Ahmad Matazu Image Credit: Eduardo Barrios I wasn’t sure what love was, exactly. But in the gentle rocking, the muffled laughter that sometimes vibrated through me, I felt cherished, and protected. It was a feeling so profound, so all-encompassing, that it filled the entirety of my tiny world. Mama. The word itself sent a warmth blooming in my chest, a feeling unlike anything else. It was … Continue reading It Spoke of Love
Sticky post
-Halima Ahmad The Kano sun beat down on my weathered face, its harsh glare meaningless to my sightless eyes. The ceaseless hum of the marketplace was my symphony, the rhythmic clatter of carts, the staccato shouts of vendors, the melodic lilt of Hausa greetings. Yet, amidst this symphony, I was often deemed a discordant note. I, Malam Idi, sat here every day, beneath the skeletal branches of a … Continue reading Gatangatanaku
Sticky post
-Grace EniolaLittle did I know⊠that the words my mother poured into my earsâthose strings of proverbs that sometimes sounded like jokes, exaggerations, or even liesâwould one day become the compass of my life. Many times, I thought them gibberish: the endless chatter of a mother who must always speak, a mother who refuses silence because she has children to mold. And yet, hidden in … Continue reading Little Did I Know the Wisdom in Her Whispers
Sticky post
-Adeniran Abdbasit Adeyemi Image Credit: Jacques Le Henaff If Ătá»ÌhĂșnrĂŹnwĂĄ could use his deceptive ĂwĂ© orin to cart way the belonging of your mother, let me use my poetic words to label your body a spice, and revive the definition of your body structure. If you come forth for me, Stay and permit me to ascend your pains to the wall of forgetfulness with my … Continue reading Beloved
Adeniran Abdbasit Adeyemi Image Credit: Samwel Francis I may not know the secret behind the language of OlĂłbĂčrĂł, nor have I seen how the stars set their eyes on you. I may not witness the dancing steps of AjĂłkĂ fĂ nsĂ , but I know the origin of water that outlives the river. And if AkĂ©wĂŹ chants, his verses  transcend the … Continue reading FisĂĄyá»Ì
Sticky post
Adeniran Abdbasit Adeyemi Image Credit: Klemen Vrankar In my mind,a candle burns, its flame your name, its light an altar of love. Smoke rises from my heart, a whisper of fire that time cannot quench. For they say no one can touch the oceanâs endâ so shall your loveâs melody echo from the north to the south, an endless tide washing over me. Come closerâ … Continue reading ĂrĂ wá»Ì
Sticky post
-Lovelin Kolawole Oh, river goddess, Your beauty illuminates the waves of the river. Your shining hair heals the blind, Your dark brown skin is like molasses poured from oak trees. Oh, river goddess, Yeye á»má» Eja, OlĂłmi, Your names cut across nations, Tongue carving them like stones on driftwood. Oh, river goddess, Awoyo (she who brings joy), Your level of generosity is unmatched through ages. … Continue reading When the River Sings
Sticky post
-Alfred Olaiya EkĂșndayo forced me to tell a story that evening. The others, intoxicated with palm wine, chanted along with him:âTell us a story!Tell us a story!â So I told them the story of that beautiful lady, AbikĂ©, the black beauty of Lalonpe; one of the king’s dancers. Blessed with a curvy body that glitters with the dangling of her full beads, swerving to the … Continue reading AbĂke
Sticky post
-Alfred Olaiya Mother, mother, send down the rope, alujanjan kirijan. Mother, mother, send down the rope, alujanjan kirijan. Night’s glints slit tendrils into hollow footprints on desolate playground. SáșčÌkáșčÌráșčÌ, termites-loam draped, will not indulge in this silenced chorus. Grandmother, passage of your tongue; sinuous labyrinth, buoyed me to crested currentsâplunged in flipping leaves; of the … Continue reading Memories from Night Tales
Sticky post
-Alfred Olaiya I once had a trance of joyous deities, clad in the white robes of Obatala, treading at the gate of heavens. With thier ĂŹrĂčkáșčÌráșčÌ swaying to the solemn rhythm, they sang the chorus of good fortunes: “May the treasure of our benevolent father seek after the upright humans and may his divine blessings shower on every righteous soul. Ire e.” And they danced with grace, like the áșžÌyá»Ìs, on the sacred passage of firmaments. Continue reading Ire
Sticky post
Valentine Chimenem Owhorodu, PhD Image Copyright: https://unsplash.com/photos/an-old-vase-sitting-in-the-middle-of-a-forest-Eu4R4zjcg0M?utm_content=creditShareLink&utm_medium=referral&utm_source=unsplash Listen!It is said in the wisdom of the elders: The plate made of clay must one day meet the ground. Yes! It is appointed unto breakable plate that breakable plate must break. But plastic? Ah, my people, plastic fears nothing. It falls and bounces. It drops and laughs. It carries food, yes, but it carries no memory, no legacy. No griot … Continue reading Eulogy for the Broken
At the backyardâ There is a convocation of potties with broken and happy Faces. On the lineâ There is a soaked wrapper that throws the fragrance of urine in the air. In the latrine roomâ The chickensâ cages breed mites with biceps. Thereâs a makeshift kitchen at every door- step. We know what our neighbors will eat for dinner. The passage of the roomsâ an … Continue reading Face-Me-I-Face-You
I understand love. I know it like I know my mother’s face. I know how love is exposed when trying to hide behind dark curtains. I could close my eyes to spot out love, even in darkness. Love doesn’t make itself so difficult to be seen. I know how love absorbs intimacy like cloths Do water. You wouldn’t wring it out, unless you were willing to face the dryness of a lifetime. Before love, I know how the longing & the absence feel like a thirst. You want to carry the jug & gulp to thirst no more, even though a little sip intoxicates. And then, after love finally comes upon you, your heart, closed like a tomb, opens to be filled. Opeyemi Oluwayomi is a Nigerian writer, an English & Literary student of University of Ibadan. His works have appeared or are forthcoming on Heart of Flesh Literary Journal, Ink Sweat & Tears, Art Lounge Journal, Brittle Paper, Shallow Tales Review, Ekstasis Magazine, Eboquil Magazine, … Continue reading Upon the Conversation of Love.
I am as brittle as a piece of broom, & so are you, & so are they. This is why we could be broken when not gathered. This is why our city is never clean when it is swept. I know I am a way to the sky. When hiked out of me, you are the next door, & they are the other doors. I’m saying the journey to the sky begins from you, to me, & to them. But I wouldn’t know if anyone has gotten to the sky all by themselves. Let them come, let’s see the measure of breath laced on his life. Let’s see the lives that have grown out of his life. Let’s see the windows opened from his heart to people’s heart, even when their bodies are away from one another, & their blood isn’t the same. Let’s see how poor he could be, that all he has is the riches of the sky, when others are tremendously gathering one another, needing one another. Not in a way a dog needs a bone, but in the way a human needs breath. Opeyemi Oluwayomi is a Nigerian writer, an English & Literary student of University of Ibadan. His works have appeared or are forthcoming on Heart of Flesh Literary Journal, Ink Sweat & Tears, Art Lounge Journal, Brittle Paper, Shallow Tales Review, Ekstasis Magazine, Eboquil Magazine, SpringNG, … Continue reading The Concept of Us
By the roadside, the aroma from a pot of stew overwhelms the pungent smell of the gutter whose basement offers the picture of two butchers struggling with a ballooned goatâskin the latest victim of searing water. Outside, there is an impatient queue of different bowls sizzling oil in a big pan squeezes the face of helpless bush- meat. A woman, with her jiggling underarms, sends … Continue reading At The CanteenÂ
Deadline: September 1, 2025Submit to: submissions@artisansquill.comEnquiries: info@artisansquill.com âž» âBefore the printed word, there was the performed one.â Praise songs. Proverbs. Dirges. Incantations. Lullabies. Folktales. These are the breaths of our ancestorsâoral forms passed from tongue to tongue, across generations. But what happens when these ancient vessels meet contemporary voices, truths, and tensions? For this special issue of Artisans Quill, we invite writers, poets, performers, and … Continue reading SUBMISSIONS: OLD FORMS, NEW WORDS
-Alfred Olaiya innocence a lake in her eyes; men drown. stars plucked from her skin dye the night, but she ate the ‘t,’ replaced the ‘y’ with ‘i’ till longings die nigh her tighs. yet, that’s not KĂČfĂł. she melts every ice cream before they get to her, you couldn’t blame her– she’s a sunshine to a dark world. she ate the moon’s yolk & … Continue reading KĂČfĂł
ArtisansQuill| Celebrating Wordcraft 