Glad For Some

It has been such a magnificent year. I turned 30, and I matured like a fine bottle of insert your favorite wine.

I met the most charming little boy who lived inside me for months, came out and now laughs and eats and poops. Babies are a mystery to me. I can explain it physiologically of course—the sequence of the birds and the bees...


I have been working on a short story series which has somewhat grown into this colossal giant on me. It was supposed to be published weeks ago, but now I’m at this place where the protagonist is standing on quick sand in a river, shin-deep, with arrows pointed at her from the shore and crocodiles napping at her ankles and head

Twice Dead: A Short Story by Ike Adegboye

 Twice Dead


Ede, Osun State,  Nigeria

On this bright and sunny day— the day of my daughter’s wedding— we dance. Out in the soft morning light they stood, a sea of livestock. More gifts from Alao. A dowry fit for three queens. Yet, the dead watch us. Yes, they whisper dark secrets...

Reminder: Someone’s Got You

Three days ago, my son and I were in our living room. He was sitting on the floor playing with his new little truck, while I was cuddled up in a blanket, watching a Christmas-themed Rom Com(because already the weather outside is November, and it’s expected of me to spend my Saturdays watching these delightful...

Kokoka: A Short Story by Ike Adegboye

There was a song Aunty Lizzie loved to sing to us as children—it was a song about shoes. I didn’t know what it meant at the time, but we all got excited when she started clapping her bony hands to the rhythm. Folake, the most playful girl in class would bolt out of her seat, shoulders up, strutting around the classroom; David would drum; the rest of us swayed, following Aunty Lizzie’s lead, clapping our little eager hands to the beat of kpa-kpa-kpa-kpa. A song was always better than reciting the multiplication table anyway, and as much as I wanted to remain the sullen, unhappy little boy in class, I couldn’t deny the catchy tempo. It carried an enticing warmth of optimism and the syntax of the syllables would get any 6-year old bobbing and clapping in a second...