June 26, 2019

An installment in our weekly series, The By and By. 

To him, my life as an eager, emerging writer was entertaining—inspiring maybe—and our excursions were his break from mind-numbing corporate life. For me, it was fun to test my knowledge of the dining scene and be celebrated for it.

May 09, 2019

An installment in our weekly series, The By and By. 

Auntie B doesn’t eat out on her own much because the cost to live in her residence includes food. She doesn’t miss cooking, cleaning, or grocery shopping. But after thirty minutes, she hadn’t described any meal that satisfied her. She hadn’t told me how anything tastes.

March 21, 2019

An installment in our weekly series, The By and By. 

Dining out was not something I got to experience every day, but when I did, it was special and I wanted to participate in the way that made sense to me. From my point of view, the best gig in the restaurant was the person who brought me my food. How could I not want to be her when I grew up? You spend the day making people happy with giant plates of dinner they couldn’t have made better at home!

 

June 12, 2018

A Points South story from the Summer 2018 issue

In our collective memory, this land made it possible to take from so many. Now, I want it to give something back.

June 12, 2018

 A Letter from the Editor, Summer 2018.

Sometimes we go on journeys just for fun, and sometimes we go because we have to, even when it’s hard. In our third annual Southern Journeys summer feature, five writers travel far and near in search of understanding: about their personal histories and roots, about our neighbors and changing landscape. Lucas Loredo, a Texan whose family escaped Castro’s regime in 1960 on the second-to-last boat allowed out of Cuba, visits Havana and the town of Nicaro in an effort to heal a painful feud. On the Cumberland Plateau, Lisa Coffman trails an infamous historical fugitive as she forms an unlikely friendship born from a love for “the peculiar character of the land itself.” 

September 05, 2017

A kind of connective tissue linked my country’s most African city with an African moment that seemed stunningly American. The pallbearers danced, the band played, the mourners walked and swayed alongside while men and women pressed yet more naira bills on the sweat of our bodies—a symbol of respect and goodwill.