Category: Wndrr Collection

A collection of creative pieces from young Nigerian writers. These pieces were submitted for the Wndrr Writers’ Block challenge on the Wndrr Instagram Page.

Encrypt

In Dev, memories aren’t just thoughts—they invade, overwrite, and reshape. Brea doesn’t know you, yet she remembers everything about you. But when the AI Rita whispers, “Welcome back,” the truth hits—what if she isn’t Brea… but you?

The Clockmaker’s Secret

Lila sought the great clock to change her past, but time had a lesson of its own. When given the power to rewrite history, she realized the truth: some memories must remain untouched, for they shape the very soul.

I Miss Trees

I came to Dev 2.0 chasing whispers of trees, of life before steel and artificial air. But all I found were hollow imitations. No scent of rain on leaves. No shade. No roots. Just the ache of what we lost.

A Paradise Apart

My heart is at peace knowing you are safe in paradise. This knowledge should comfort you. I am where I belong—barefoot on my native soil.

Letter from the Future

In a world where the internet vanished overnight, Negasi returned with a choice—fight for a dying Earth or escape into a digital utopia. But was it salvation or surrender? One survivor writes a letter to the past. Will you listen?

Waiting

Everyone left. They uploaded themselves into the Cloud, abandoning the Earth to silence. Eunice stayed behind, waiting, writing letters to Dev—the one she loved, the one who left. But in a world without human voices, does love still exist?

From the World of Perfection

What happens when your happiest moments are stolen, replaced with sorrow? Trapped in Negasi’s creation, one soul realises Dev isn’t heaven—it’s a prison. And time is running out.

Dear Kael

Lia traded her dying body for digital eternity, but in Dev, memories are filtered, emotions optimised, and imperfection erased. When she discovers a glitch—Kael’s fading voice—she faces an impossible choice: stay in Dev’s cold perfection or risk everything to feel human again.

Dissonance

We fled Earth to escape its ruin, but who mourns the lives stolen by nature itself? I built this world to forget—where rivers don’t haunt, hunger is a myth, and grief is just data. One tap, one word: confirm. I erase you, yet Earth remembers.

My Dearest Ancestor: Enewan

A desperate message from a digital future—one where humans exist as pure data. A virus, a creeping darkness, threatens to erase them all. Their only hope? A warning sent through time, begging the past to stop their inevitable doom.