Short Stories

African themed short stories by the best bloggers in Africa.


For the next couple of years, I won’t hear anything from Ife. Even when I go home, his parents will simply tell me he said he didn’t want to be in touch with anyone. I was angry; how could my childhood friend just ghost out on me? I began thinking it was something I said when we spoke last. Whatever pursuing he did only becomes clear when I run into Mary one day at the bank in Abuja.


There was something in the way she called his name. She was like a drug and he embraced her aura like an addicted submissive. He was ready to do anything she asked. Before long, he was zooming past cars and buses, some of the drivers rained abuses at his reckless driving.

Lunch Break

My heart was beating frantically and worst of all; I couldn’t quite control the twitch in my left eye. “Hi, can I join you?” He asked, and I looked around to see to my dismay that all other tables were occupied saved for the lone seat at our table. It got awkward for a moment as we stared at him, surprised by the sound of his voice. It was like pure honey. I felt the core of his manliness rain in my head.