About Me
I am Chuma Nwokolo, writer, advocate. If you like poetry, you should read my Memories of Stone. If you are into fiction, try my Diaries of a Dead African or The Ghost of Sani Abacha.
If you don't read much, beyond blogs and stuff, you'll probably love my Extinction of Menai, Diary of a Witch-Doctor's Writer-in-Residence, and a dozen other novels of that ilk, because they're not yet published.
Welcome to my blog.
New:
Kindle version of The Ghost of Sani Abacha.Kindle version of Diaries of a Dead African
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inspirational Archive
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The Mongrelisation of Nigerian English
Posted on April 15, 2013 | 1 CommentThe Nigerian accent is a valid, beautiful variation of the spoken English. -
Cat v. Tale
Posted on January 4, 2013 | 1 CommentA tale is very like a cat, don't you know? -
A Day in the Life (12 of 365 – Phone Etiquette)
Posted on November 10, 2012 | 1 CommentWe should make the mobile phone more tool than master. -
Day in the Life (10 of 365 – The Fear of Growing Things 2)
Posted on November 8, 2012 | No CommentsPlaying on Fears vs. Bolstering Reason -
Day in the Life (9 of 365 – The Fear of Growing Things 1)
Posted on November 7, 2012 | No Commentsthe fear of growing seeds wars with a love for oranges... -
A Day in the Life (4 of 365 – Emotional Geography)
Posted on November 2, 2012 | 11 CommentsOnce, a perfect stranger greeted me confidently in a strange language and I smiled, I am not Tiv, I said, I am just wearing our national dress. -
A Day in the Life (2 of 365 – The Metaphor of the Flying Bonnet)
Posted on October 31, 2012 | 1 CommentWisdom wears disguise for fear of mobs, is not too precise: did he prophesy the man's death… or did he kill the man? -
Upon Writing into my Father’s Notebook
Posted on April 2, 2012 | 6 CommentsTo see that humanity is a collaborative work in progress, where everyone writes their lives in a book that no one fully owns. -
This Land is Mine
Posted on January 16, 2012 | 5 Comments(and you can take this how you will, but) these double-breasted hills, bronze fields of windblown corn, this scarpland north of Udi Hills, these are my mother’s arms & the...






