FORTUNATE TRAVELLER
The wish to travel seems to me characteristically human: the desire to move, to satisfy your curiosity or ease your fears, to change the circumstances of your life, to be a stranger, to make a friend, to experience an exotic landscape, to risk the unknown, to bear witness to the consequences, tragic or comic, of people possessed by the narcissism of minor differences. — Paul Theroux; The Tao of Travel.
Non-fiction

An Artist’s Diary I: Negotiating West African Borders by C. Krydz Ikwuemesi

‘Halte!’ It was the voice of a leather-faced Beninois policeman, shocking us to a sudden realisation that we were at the border once again, the Benin-Togo border. We had crossed the Nigeria-Benin border unchallenged. In fact, it had been like a VIP. affair. The place had been busy with Nigerian and Beninois policemen standing on either side of the road. And they had waved us on without stopping our Toyota…

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News & Announcement

Government Pikin: An Anthology of NYSC Travels

The National Youth Service Corps is a scheme that was created by the federal government of Nigeria to foster national unity amidst the country’s ethnic, linguistic and religious divides. Since 1973, after Nigeria’s civil war, tertiary institution graduates under the age of 30, have been participating in a compulsory year of service to the nation. They are usually posted to cities and towns far from their state of origin. The…

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Poetry

a road’s tale and other poems by tosin gbogi

a road’s tale the road is a riddle with a thousand answers                                                                   —Niyi Osundare the road is one trickster of an angel divining destinies at a deserted holy-trinity round: to dawn’s hope a path to noon’s heated light another and the last, to night’s final cry – silence when i wake up in the morning the road lies ahead of me in wait full of prayers – answerable and…

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Non-fiction

Netherlands: My Second Love by Fiyinfoluwa Akinsiku

An early drizzle made a pitched percussion on the airplane window that morning. Dressed in a mid-thigh red gown, black leggings and a jacket of excitement, I smiled to myself as I remembered a friend called it a short, hot, red dress. It must have been the hotness of the red dress, then, that made the immigration officer, seated in a cubicle beyond the area demarcated by a large DEPARTURES…

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Interviews

I Have Always Depended on the Kindness of Strangers: An Interview with Kemi Falodun

Invisible Borders is a travel collective of writers, photographers and filmmakers. In 2016 they embarked on a trans-Nigeria road trip. The aim was to map the diversity across regions, states and ethnic formations in post-colonial Nigeria. They produced images and writings that interrogated both the elusive and apparent borders within Nigeria years after the amalgamation of its Northern and Southern Protectorates. To complete the work begun last year, another group…

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Non-fiction

Of Secret Loves and Gods of Flesh by Tope Salaudeen-Adegoke

      The loves we share with a city are often secret loves. – Albert Camus; ‘Summers in Algiers’ from The Myth of Sisyphus and Other Essays. The beauty of a city is ascertained at night; a night is a beautician which costumes and, most of the times, prettifies its landscapes. When the fussiness of transaction is laid to rest somewhere in the pulse of a city and the last spatter…

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News & Announcement

BORDERS WITHIN II: THE TRANS-NIGERIAN ROAD TRIP OCTOBER 8 – NOVEMBER 16 2017

For 46 days in 2016, Invisible Borders travelled across 14 states in Nigeria. The aim was simple: to map the diversity across regions, states and ethnic formations in post-colonial Nigeria through photographs, video documentaries and travelogues. The group of artists and writers involved in the itinerary, through images and writing, interrogated both the elusive and apparent borders within Nigeria years after the amalgamation of its Northern and Southern Protectorates. With…

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Non-fiction

Our Bell Boy by Femi Oyebode

Our Bell Boy, Raymundo, was not a boy at all but a full-grown man. He was a small, that is to say, short man, of slight build and weathered oak complexion. He was a Philippino. He carried our luggage up to our room on the first floor of the Atlantic Hotel. We are in Florence for a few days. He talked about Duterte, condemning Duterte’s vulgar language. I talked about Trump….

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Poetry

Addis Hot Box and Other Poems by Amanda Leigh Lichtenstein

ADDIS HOT BOX Two Addis sisters locked shoulders in a jello mould of jazz. The club was a hot box of twinkly stars and loose laws of rain. Smoked a pack of Nyala hoping for a husband that night. Spent decades in the bathroom, zipping up my past. It was midnight when I left, street dogs were falling in love, Howling commitments far exceeding any I had made In my…

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Non-fiction

Welcome to Abuja by Uche Orjinta

Because of the course I studied in university, I had the privilege to choose where to apply for my Student Industrial Training and Internship Programme. Well, my options were not varied. So I applied to the Nigerian National Petroleum Corporation (NNPC) Abuja. And so began my love/hate relationship with Nigeria’s federal capital territory. Abuja is quite a distance from Lagos by road. Initially I had my reservations but being the…

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