“The Whisper Beneath the Locust Tree”



Beneath its thorned branches, griots say, the first vow was broken — and the wind has never been silent since.

I’ve spent years chasing the roots of that legend, not just as a storyteller, but as a seeker. Every tale I write feels like a conversation with something older than time, something that hums when I listen closely enough.


This space — this blog — is my grove of whispers. Here, I’ll share pieces of lore from my novels, untold verses, and the ghosts that live between lines.

May each story you read here plant a seed of wonder in you.


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