The Arts-Muse Fair

  I was having a conversation with a friend recently about mentorship and I realized that some of us have the idea of a mentor screwed up such that even when we have one in our lives we are unable to recognize them. Let me buttress my point with a story.   I met Ishaya Bako sometime in 2011, at Nicon Luxury Hotel in Abuja and I knew that we were going to work together. I was already learning by that time to trust my intuition. So I followed him on Twitter and later added him up on Facebook. Once in a while I'd tweet at him and he'd respond. So I told him that I look forward to us doing stuff together. One evening, he called to ask if I was in Abuja and free to see him the following day. Of course, I was. We met and he told me about a project that he wanted to work with me on. It was a TV series about the Nigerian Police Force, produced by Oliver Tambo. It was my first TV gig. He called to say that the producer loved the first episode that I sent in, so I was going to write

BY AMINU S MUHAMMAD The second edition of the Niger state Photography contest for secondary schools held last weekend with three winners going home with cameras and total cash prizes of one hundred thousand naira. The contest, sponsored by Mal. Abdullberqy U. Ebbo and organized by the Hill-top Arts Foundation, seeks to introduce students to the art of photography and encourage them to build a career in it for economic and recreational gains.   Abdullberqy U. Ebbo, sponsor of the competition               BM Dzukogi, Founder, Hill-top Arts Foundation This year, eleven schools participated with each presenting three participants to compete for the prizes. All participants took candid, outdoor shots around the themes of Chaos, Climate change, and Infrastructural decay . The photos were exhibited to the audience before winners were announced by Mal. Aminu S Muhammad, the chair of the jury. Wada Muhammad, an SS2 student of Model Secondary School, FUT Minna, won the first place of prize and

  T R A V E L L E R S What if There were no canons?  Never were there; countries  What if there were never wars?  And one another, we genuinely adored    What if There were no plagues?  There were no flags  There were no regions  There was no hatred  Eating deep into our hearts?    What if Between us, there were no oceans There were no seas And the humanity within us  Is all that we see?    What if There were no colours Neither white nor black  And love was the only feeling  That took us all aback?    What if We are here for a while And only the smile on our lips And the joy in our chests Can take us far miles?    What if Just what if We are all travellers Sojourning to a place  We know not a thing about?    ************ Shehu Mubarak Sulaiman is a Kano-based poet. Currently a final year student of Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria, his works have appeared on Konyashamsrumi, Sebuleni and Dailytrust. He is a winner

  The first night of lockdown, Aliyu and Hafsat sat together and talked, for the first time like husband and wife. Since their arranged, brief wedding in January, they had been living in their 3-bedroom flat, like tenants from different ethnic groups, avoiding each other, saying only salam with stoic faces whenever they ran into each other. Until today. Usually, she stayed in her bedroom when he was in the living room, watching TV or relaxing and he did the same. But this night, the brief power cut forced her out of her room when the heat of March became unbearable. She found him sitting on the couch, pressing his phone and fanning himself with a book. She wanted to turn back but she decided she wasn't ready to be suffocated by the heat because of a husband that was forced on her. She said salam, sat on the sofa across from him. From the glow of his phone, she could see that he wore only a singlet and sweatpants. She stood up, adjusted the curtains to let in more breeze and got

  Although I have been to Ghana by air several times in the past, the last time I travelled to the country by road was in 1975 when I went to the country as a member of the University of Ife Hockey Team (now Obafemi Awolowo University) Ile Ife, Nigeria to participate in the West African University Games. While the details of what transpired during the approximately 12- hour trip from Ile Ife to Accra are now foggy in my memory, what was crystal clear was that it was an enjoyable trip. As students are wont to be, we were a merry lot in our ‘Luxurious’ Mercedes Benz bus filled to the brim with our clothes, jerseys, hockey sticks, boots, stockings and of course, some foodstuffs. We had been warned about the dicey economic state in Ghana at that time and so the need to go with some gari, yams and plantain with which to supplement any likely gaps in our culinary needs. I also recall vividly that the final Hockey match between the University of Science and Technology, Kumasi and the Ife

REVIEW BY  ISMAIL BALA Guitarist on the Landing By Uchechukwu Peter Umezirike she strums her Cellotaped guitar, slight woman who sings on the landing at afterwork hours; her jacket bleached, sneakers frayed, hair jumbled, face rucked, eyes a hint of distance, & voice like sand but –   you rarely pause to hear her sing, always in a dash against the push of bodies, until forced this evening to idle on the landing a moment; …train momentarily delayed the loudspeaker voice chafes your ears, sighs of commuters like gnats, odours treacly you nearly spit; should you Facebook or Instagram? her song is what grips – energy of the wind on which a hawk glides, your body unclenches to its currents, prodigious in their sweep; outspread as the hawk, you climb past the arc of sight,   above what she sings about: a father whose mind is a raft on the sea mother who sees shrapnel in her sleep      daughter who seeks love in syringed arms son wh