A Nigerian poet builds a short, devastating poem around the ṣẹ̀kẹ̀rẹ̀ — the beaded gourd rattle — as an instrument of buried grief and inherited hatchets, love professed like an oath nobody quite believes. Ahmed writes toward memory and scar-tissue with a precision that never once reaches for a bigger word than it needs.
Read it on Guernica Mag.


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