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The dead never quite leave us, and we never quite leave them, so we invite them for dinner. Here, sit, we say. Have a morsel. We ask them for help with an unruly child or an aching knee. We ask how to make sweet a sour relationship or...

In the Name of Everything: Notes on Altars, Prayer & Praying

Egrets presaged the start of harmattan. Then, when the children laid out large mattresses side by side on the rooftop of their incomplete new house and told folktales about cunning tortoises and proud lizards, they did not know to call the birds egre

The Sound of a Thing Carrying Doom

The first time I taste God, he is a small circle of unleavened bread and tiny cruet of mildly diluted red wine. 

Tasting God

Is presence ever enough? Or are we constantly aching for memory jars to hold moments like this for as long as we can? 

Kosisochukwu W. Ugwuede

Selected work (5 publications)