Explore unfettered expression for CỌ́N-SCÌÒ's Parrhesia Issue. We welcome diverse expressions, including poetry, short prose, essays, artwork, and photographs ..read more

This is a journey through the pitch dark of loss with the torch of language. Grief has never been this soft! The 53 poems in this collection are reels of heartbreak with the mercy of metaphors ..read more

Are you an emerging African writer? Apply to the Sprinng Writing Fellowship today! You don’t want to miss this opportunity ..read more

The gods play a dangerous game, tempting us with their gifts while slowly but surely eroding our minds. And as we spiral deeper into madness, we must ask ourselves, "Is this really what we desired ..read more

Someday, Cletus will become 'the Shoulder' you lean on. He'll express his affection for you, desiring more than just friendship. Because in your last skin, you have learned what he meant, you'll accept it. He'll tell you to meet him at his home. You'll go and he'll smile when you arrive, groping you, pulling off your clothes from the door ..read more

Tonight in Kampala, you turn off your light but open the eyes in your head: to see Liz finish her life in a struggle. You see her flapping her hands as the waters lap on her face, helplessly as you yelp for any help. None comes and so she dies.  You wish you had contained her spirit before it migrated to a different realm, leaving her body—lifeless ..read more

You see, the migrant’s tragedy is not merely displacement, but also the denial of their potential. Opportunities—once alluring mirages from home—vanish at the point of need, leaving only the echo of the cruel refrain, "Go back where you came from." Each rejection carves another notch on the tally of our exile ..read more

Your foot collides with the brakes and your car screeches to a halt. You lean your head on the steering wheel and begin to sob because, today, you don’t know where you’re going ..read more

Mama will send you to school, and you will return to your room each day and hide because the other boys threaten to stick their hands down your throat and release the poor toad you swallowed. She will say, Touch this world a little bit; it might answer us. You cannot sit beneath your window and cry forever. You will try to obey your mother, but you cannot recognize your hands or this place ..read more

Mfe, my brother now offers me stories and laughter in a desperate plea that I remember him, that in the upheaval of a new life, I should not uproot him from my mind or forget the memories that bind us ..read more