Author: tampered_press

Food for thought

Poetry by Maame Agyeben Food for thought   Would you have only me as your morning waakye your evening jollof Sunday fufu light soup spooned fresh from the pot?   I miss you, you know but you are thinking of food perhaps for times you could not eat the years...

God Loves The Unbeliever

Fiction by Tim Banks                  They called him Mr Glenfiddich because that's all he drank. Nobody knew anything about him except that everything he owned was expensive and new. The people in his neighbourhood would suck their teeth when he drove past in...

Free

Poetry by Grace Louise Wood Free (In loving memory of George Floyd) Red grinning mouths said we were free, through gleaming teeth set in polished skulls; though we still felt the bite of dogs, chains, nooses kneecaps on necks, devouring our air before we could breathe. Free shouldn’t feel like...

men like you.

Poetry by Kuukuwa Manful men like you.   we have buried men like you There and there. And perhaps, here too we shall bury men like you Again, and again Ah. The way they break us and how they laugh when they whip us More times dem zook wanna necks...

Piloloo

Poetry by Eamy Mireku Piloloo This love thing check like piloloo I search saa but I no dey find I no go look again oh Chale I really make tired.   I no find for work or school I no find for church I go club too—but no where cool...

CHEW THE MAZE

Poetry by Ewoenam Akahoho CHEW THE MAZE   your dilemma is deathless, because you know what is right. tread the path that gifts dodgy ballyhoos, and you will inhale shame to catch your breath.   you can chew the maze, without the confusion getting stuck in your teeth. so when...

Our days are Jazz

Poetry by Sarpong-Osei Asamoah Our days are Jazz   It's 28th April, 2020 and it feels like we never left march, and February, and January; three million confirmed cases, 211,065 lost and they say we must mourn our dying now and our dead later. We do this together, from a...

Lately I think of my father a lot

Poetry by  Lemeul Nortey Lately I think of my father a lot, I don’t know maybe Partly because I’m beginning to go bald at 30 It’s undetectable, But that habit of passing my hands through my hair Confirms it enough times to equal the denial, Or the fact that at...

Riding with the Witches

Non-Fiction by Augustine Onyechi Riding with the Witches – Augustine Onyechi I grab my phone and type out the words “sleep paralysis” on the Google search bar. I have recurring dreams that feel like a real-life, physical struggle with demons. I’m trawling the internet for an explanation for this phenomenon...

Guillotine

Poetry by Jay Kophy Guillotine in January 2002. the national reconciliation commission was formed to ask us to remember what our blood won't let us forget                 about the bodies that men walked                                          on to grow into gods over here the sea is anything that streams down from the eyes...