Muheez Olawale

I This story begins after the deed is done. Smoke clouds the afternoon sky. A naked body dances to the crackles of flame till stasis puffs away its final breath in defeat. The woman who made the first cry of “ole1” watches from a corner, tears in her eyes. She doesn’t know if it is the smoke or the guilt. A horde of street urchins disperses into backstreets, tossing cudgels in the gutter.