“Modern Girls”. Brilliant short story from Teju Cole. There’s a downloadable MP3 at the bottom. The reading is okay. Effective. Do read.

– Ra.

qarrtsiluni

In those days, the trucks came by a dirt road that branched off the expressway. The road was fringed by forest. By the time the trucks arrived at the school, they were covered in dust. On the first day of each new term, we saw men unloading baskets of tomatoes, bunches of unripe plantain, rice in sacks, and bitterleaf. The men, too, were covered in dust. We stood in our freshly-starched uniforms — blue and white check blouses, dark blue pinafores — and gossiped about what we’d done and who we’d seen on vacation, watching them work. The loads of food passed from hand to hand, as did boxes of school supplies: exercise books, ink, blotting paper. The men were dark and thin, and they had bodies made muscular by long manual labor. When they finished working, they clambered into the backs of the trucks, and left us in our…

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Moonchild's Temple

By Kalyani

Indian writing, like Nigerian writing, came under the umbrella of Commonwealth literature on account of its status as a member of the Commonwealth, and as a former colony of the British Empire. The broader label of postcolonial literature has also been used to describe Indian writing in English in more recent times.

Indian writing dates back to the period 1500- 1200 BC when the epics Ramayana and Mahabharata were written. The earliest known Indian writing is in Sanskrit. Modern India has twenty- two officially recognized languages. Each of these languages boasts of a considerable body of literature. Indians are very proud of their writers. There is plenty of writing going on, in the various genres of prose, poetry, and drama. It is a vibrant writing scene. The major publishers are Penguin, India, Oxford University Press, Macmillan, and Orient Longman which changed its name to Orient Blackswan in the…

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Blogging for this Dummy

Image

So, I am sitting in front of my computer in my typically disordered room and I am quite terrified. Some music is coming in from God knows where, the beat sounds cheap and toxic and does not help calm me in anyway. Over the fence at the Plateau Polytechnic, the women who run the bukaterias continue their noisy rivalries—someone says something about a girl who got pregnant. Another asks if someone else is not coming along. And here I am, arbiter of all this, a guy with a receding hairline wearing glasses and little else, who has decided to set up a regular blog. Yes, I’m that sort of dummy and the rant so far is to mask my cluelessness about what to write here.

I can’t say that this blog will always be about literature and women, as my cousin Gimba Kakanda’s blog [or politics and commonsense], especially because literature and women interest me only some, scratch that, most, of the time. But at those times when I am unliterary and un-womanizing, I may attempt to blog funny posts, like my friend Elnathan John. Thankfully, I won’t ever know if you laugh at the funny posts or not. So, that’s good. Ah yes, but I have a page for my Current Crusades.

Current Crusades will be where I share my great wisdoms with you as they reveal themselves to me—like the realization that moon is made of cheese and that the Italians have blocked thsi knowledge. Or it may be something about reproductive health. Who knows? I’m a prophet, you see.

I will sometimes post short stories, sometimes poems, sometimes the news that my girlfriend is pregnant or that she has left me. Again. I may write about pretty flowers named Neemata or my fear of injections.  Ey, who knows, I may even write about food—I love food, but cannot cook. I hope enthusiasm counts for something.

Well, in my country, we call doing stuff while you are terrified “freestyling”. So, the Richard Ali blog will do this for who am I to challenge the wisdom of my country? I will freestyle, and try to steal 500 words in minutes of your time every now and then. Dont forget to hit the #like and #share buttons every now and then.

 

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