Skip to content

Author: Nnaemeka Nnam

"The last time I tried to be happy, I died. Now, I wear my sadness like a crown, and like a cape, even like a lipstick."


He was walking down the un-tarred road of Ishieke, this boy with a neat afro cut and chalk-white shorts. If there was someone walking along the street at that time, perhaps a teenager, said teenager would see him; this boy on chalk-white shorts and ripped…


He handed you a gun, “Shoot anyone that comes through that door, reserve one bullet for yourself, just in case.”   Shoving the black pistol into your grip he grabbed you by the neck and kissed your forehead first, before your nose and then your lips.  The kiss barely lasted a minute,…