The street is littered with empty water bottles, styrofoam cups, nylon bags, squeezed serviettes stained with oil, glass pieces, food particles, cigarette stubs, drink caps, and plastic plates. Gutters lay on both sides of the street like two gray strips. Cement blocks are stacked across the gutter by my right. Some canopies stand a few ...

If one prods the origins of most great works of art, one will find they were created to exorcise or archive a memory. Okigbo does the latter for Kepkanly, a school teacher. Adichie, it can be argued, wrote Half of a Yellow Sun (at least in part) to re-exorcise the collective tribal memory of the ...