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B.N Wendo We always joked about dying before our twenty-seventh birthdays. The disillusion haunted us. The five of us. We always did what typical campus students did. Wake up late. Scroll through the class whatsapp group to find out whether the scruffy middle-aged lecturer would make it to class. And decide how the day shallContinue reading “27 Years Old”

By B.N Wendo It has been over an year now. And there is still that horrid memory lingering in my mind. It never goes away. It never dissipates. I have moved from that town. And discarded the ardor for my craft. Reinvented my life. Booked therapy sessions. But the memory still won’t go away. AndContinue reading “THE CREATURE ON MY CANVAS”