African Erotica

Guerrilla Post


‘My grandmother always prayed let a storm not visit a hut, else broomsticks will fly in the wind and blind the sun itself.’

I finished reading this drama during my flight to Abuja from Yola for the Nigerian Law School 1st term Christmas Break last month. It was a humorous but thought-provoking play.

***Description/ Spoiler Alert

It follows the story of three friends who are poets and run a poetry blog, Guerrilla Post. Kafka, Best and Pake decide to host a poetry reading for Kafka’s newly released erotic poems collection. The reading goes askew when two men in the audience disrupt it. Kafka is arrested later that night and charged with treason my Supon Maden. While his fiance and friends enlist the help of Prof Mante and Rosa to speak with Supon Maden. The story unfolds to show there is more to the false arrest. It would seem Supon Maden believes the erotic poem’s manuscript was evidence of an affair with his wife Rosa. Everything quickly escalates as the blog is hacked to plant treasonable posts, guns are acquired and the drama ends bloody.

****ENDS here

The consistent plot twists and reveals were exciting. Bold characters who critiqued the Nigerian political reality and were persecuted for it. I really like Prof Mante, Best, Kafka the main character. The book had strong female characters who were intelligent, walked away from domestic violence, worked and actively influenced the plot( both positively and unknowingly negatively). Pake was one of my favourite characters.

The bits of poetry were enjoyable. Each Scene began with a quote from one of the characters words. I didn’t like that rape was a feature which added no plot value nor admonished the perpetrators in the drama. This makes me remember (not in her exact words) what Lara Kareem said about Nigerian male writers and how they add rape to their books for the sensational power play and not for social justice even helpful lessons.

The themes of sex and power, police brutality, creative writing, political persecution, institutionalised corruption, domestic abuse, sexual violence, drug abuse, the effect of war on terrorism, cybersafety, problems creatives and writers face–made it a bold, honest, thought-provoking read. I didn’t like the abrupt end. It felt like an action film’s last scene without the ambulance door victory chat. But I feel this was also a metaphor for how the villain and hero’s crossed paths end. I’ll give it 3.5 fireworks and highly recommend it.

I talk about it in my Bookie Life Update video on my booktube channel.

More info..

Obari Gomba(PhD) is an award-winning poet and writer. This play is 98 pages and has been premiered at The Crab, an iconic theatre of the University of Port-Harcourt on 13th December 2017. Its published in Nigeria 2018 by Narrative Landscape Press.


Bookie In Yola


Curled eyelashes fluttered close like delicate butterflies.

Nature dainty in the wind swaying, buzzing, green growing.

Me, 2018, Life’s Lemons and Depth.

I’m at peace with myself as the new continuation of days float in.

Greetings from sunny, chilled Yola! Welcome to December. Please be content, positive and safe this month Gem.

My law school campus is located at Yola South of Adamawa State. Hausa, Pidgin, English are mostly spoken and other Nigerian languages. Fulani people live here and they’re calm, welcoming and humorous. There is electricity and clean, running water all day long. Yola’s weather is unique. Its radiant sun is the ultimate glow filter. The air is dry even with the billowing winds. Giving the weather a sunny, harmattan feel. Daytime is longer here; dawn before 6am and dusk before 7pm. Truly amazing because the sun rises in Lagos around to 7am and sets past 7pm. My body is still trying to adjust.

I’ve spent this week doing my registration and settling in on campus. Lectures commence next week and I’m excited but anxious. I might have a new post schedule for stories and reviews once they commence. I’m really enjoying the serenity. Two white butterflies kissed my fingers on Wednesday. What was your last week of November like?

What I Am Reading

I talk about my November reads here. I’ll still publish reviews of some. You can check out other book reviews here. Catch up on all my published stories in November

This December I want to finish reading some books on my DNF list. Guerrilla Post by Obari Gomba and Kabu Kabu by Nnedi Okorafor. Then start reading new books like Tender Moments by Niyi Osundare(poetry collection), From Caves of Rotten Teeth by A. igoni Barrett(short story collection) and online fiction I discover.

New Booktube Series

I uploaded some videos on my Booktube Channel, SARF Uncut. Steamy Storytime is a short video series where under 10 minutes I read erotic stories I’ve written. Episode 1: Sunny Views of Us is up. Click here to watch it!!

The first two were playful, text videos. But they helped me work on my camera shyness. If you enjoy my videos, like and subscribe Gem.

Don’t forget to breathe and glow!

Sunny Views of Us

There are views.

There are views from a airplane window of bright pink, peach, red, purple and mint blue skies filtering through two layers of clouds as the sun sets.

Then there is the sight, sound and sensual feel of you sucking my yellow painted toes. As you kneel in front of my heating vulva thrusting warm pleasure into me with your dark chocolate phallus. What a view.  I moan arching my back, feeling your scrotum tickle my butt cheeks. Your full lips trail kisses from my big toe to my bronzed left calf. Your thrusts quicken making me moan and gasp louder. ‘Ifeanyi!’ I almost scream smiling. You bend on me to kiss my pinkish brown lips and I wrap my thick thighs around your muscled back. From our lustful embrace on the damp dinning table in the stuffy spare room. It was shoved here by you, my elder brother and two cousins under the direction of my Mum. She felt the caterers needed more space to set up the wedding party buffet. We shouldn’t be here licking, sucking, moaning, gasping nor having orgasms on squeaking mahogany. Yellow streaks of sunlight beam off the white walls caressing my blurred vision. I gasp from the realization that the sun has risen and uh intense pleasure. I should be bathed and seated with the make-up artist and my excited bridal train.

‘You are so beautiful’. Each word you say is punctuated with quick kisses. One to my erect left nipple then two kisses on my glistening brown right nipples. I giggle then whisper I’m so happy. You smile that smile that made me say yes to a private, extended kayak session the day we met. We watched the rosy sunset together as traffic crawled on the impressive Eko Bridge. Afterwards we ate the largest fresh fish barbecue with creamy coleslaw, plenty fries and sweet frozen yoghurt and chilled citrus beer.  Our moist lips separate then we nuzzle our noses against each other. We both chuckle at our ability to find time for ourselves, no time for sex, amidst our families and weddings craziness. I was whispering that I love how he moaned my name when I took his pulsing penis in between my lips. How I enjoyed him asking if he could give me head. His long fingers that make clicking taps on keyboards, engineering dark back ends like a tribal drum beat. How those long fingers with dark knuckles had popped open the  three metal clasp of my bodysuit. Then he’d hoisted me onto the table surface, spreading my thighs to kiss his way down my inner thighs, further down teasing my delicate folds, sucking my clit. Oh, what an erotic view! My whispering would have continued when we heard my mother say at the door, ‘Aisha nko?’. Where is she? Why isn’t Ifeanyi picking his calls, where is the groom?’ We froze blinking as birds chirped.  Quickly yet quietly we sat up, got off the table and began dressing. My mother’s voice moved away from the door while we shared our last kiss at our hideout.