Evi Edna Ogholi - No Place Like Home Info

But Ebiere wasn't thinking about spreadsheets. She was thinking about the photograph in her hand. It was creased at the edges, faded into sepia. A girl of about nine, wearing a yellow plastic bangle and a torn dress, stood in front of a thatched hut. Behind her, an oil rig burned in the distance—a flaring tower of eternal fire against a mangrove swamp.

“Ma, you sure about this place? No network there. No light since 1998.” “I know,” she said. “Drive.” Evi Edna Ogholi - No Place Like Home

The Echo of Red Earth

She looked out at the children playing in the red mud. They were laughing. Their feet were dirty. Their bellies were full. But Ebiere wasn't thinking about spreadsheets