Dani is sat in a train unsure of whether he is doing the right thing or not. You see, the thing is that Dani never does anything merely half thought of or only one foot in but recently he has been possessed with the spirit of trying to reach for something. Three days ago, his world started to spin and felt so small and claustrophobic. He was confused because he had had this life for eleven...



PICTURES OF STONY FACES BY URHURU “See this picture” Kamsi handed it to Gold. Gold took it and went back to the wardrobe, her eyes fixated on the picture. She studied the people in it, each face glowing with happiness. Suddenly, she tossed it aside, she wanted to make a remark to counter any impression that she was interested in the picture but decided against it, there was no need to...

Image by Omowero Agbor


“There are many pivotal aspects of your life that have made you who you are, my Ogiemwḗnva. It has not been easy, but you and I know you held pain by the hand in a vice grip. You were determined to answer questions that would not only wound you each time but take bits of your will to enjoy life. Ogiemwḗnva, like your name, you are in two versions. There is me and there is you. I believe...

Announcing Grief by Victory Adewoye


On Thursday, we smelt a heartbreak coming and we thought we sheltered you. It was coming and you didn’t pay much attention to it, but you knew. You saw an RIP on a friend’s reel on IG. The first thing you said was “God please don’t let it be someone I know”.  You found out that that prayer was answered. Later you asked what kind of prayer it was.   ...

Promised Land by Nnamdi Vin-Anuonye


CHETA: You spend weekends tasting bliss off each other’s bodies. But this weekend, like the last, you are alone, surrounded by an eerie silence. Davido’s Ekuro is blasting on your boom box: Eh when I look into your eyes. You are a blessing in disguise. You make me wanna do the ring around the roses… Forlorn, you log in to your Instagram. In the reels you watch, the Nigerian couples are...

My Little Bird by Nwadinma Chizalum


❦︎ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 of belt buckle meeting flesh rang in her ears so loudly that she didn’t have time to fully register the pain, coming from her back, travelling down her arms and fingertips, up to her head and back to the tip of her toes. The buckle of the belt met her skin again, the sharp cold metal digging deep and tearing out her flesh and the wielder of the belt swung it back...

Laughter,Tears and Family by Wani


Weeks after the breakup, I find myself back on my feet. Each morning starts early with a run, providing the much-needed peace and solitude.As I get ready for work, I’m confronted by my own reflection in the mirror. My eyes are brighter, my smile is a little more genuine. “I’m okay,” I assure myself. Every car ride is dedicated to God, filled with intense worship. This morning as I sing...

That’s how it should go by Mimi Lola


This is how this thing goes. And I will call you as it settles, just as my toes sink into the wet sand and water recoils from me. I just hear you breathe cause you always wait for me to speak. I called first. I say, oh god, it’s coming. I feel it in my head this time and I think it’s going to kill me. You hum and I just know you are laying on your bed, back pressed flat to it with your eyes...

The Last Office by Chinedu Adaora


THE LAST OFFICE. This is how to eat your cake and have it: (1) Wear your father’s old coat to a job interview on a monday morning, in a pair of a brown shiny texudo shoe. “You better have an explanation for your dressing, Mr, Scumbags, are not welcome here.” (2) Tell him today made the 10th year he passed, survived by your sickler mother whose future is as bleak as yours, or black, Suit you. And...

Sins of the Father by Riian


  “Reverend Father, I have a confession.” He motioned me towards the cubicle and went in. I sit cross legged on the floor, avoiding the chairs and breathe deeply, trying to calm my nerves. I should have opted for the usual way of confessions at the cathedral, but today was my last day on earth so I figured it would be meaningless to leave such thoughts behind without a face to it. I...


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Pencilmarks and Scribbles Magazine was founded in 2017 by Clara Jack to be a home for African writers, asking them to come as they are and giving them room for growth. The publication aims to give back to the Nigerian Literary scene for the things it has given us.