Should you read the latest edition of the free graphic e-magazine Klorofyl? I think you should.
I was worried when I was asked to write a review of the magazine because I thought I wouldn’t be critical enough. But now I fear I may not be accurate enough in highlighting its good points. Let’s just dive in anyway.
My first impression of the magazine was a mixed one. So many colours, so many pictures, so many contributors, so many things to see arranged in no particular order. I wasn’t sure I enjoyed being taken on a journey to an unknown destination by people I had never met or encountered in the artistic sense. But my curiosity was sparked and I could not stop flipping the virtual pages till I got to the credits at the end.
The articles are well written and edited (about twenty seven of them). Their most striking feature to me was the desire to communicate and not confuse. I’d be happy to see this in the hands of bored pre-teens nationwide but the medium of the magazine is not one easily accessible to kids (internet access is a problem even for adults here). The links at the table of contents take you to any of the articles or photo rooms you are immediately interested in. This feature I found very handy and thoughtful.
The pictures of Nigeria made me wonder how I had walked past these moments of greatness and significance everyday without taking note. Photography is no longer just a hobby for young people in Nigeria. It truly can be a window to the soul, as these photo shots showed. So if you have a great camera I hope you can be inspired to start taking photos of what you see around you. Who knows? These may be a valuable record for future generations of “the Nigeria of those days”.
The magazine has a Christian tilt, which is difficult to notice even if you’re used to Christian expressions. It would have been very possible to be preachy with the City theme, but when I finished reading I was unable to point to anything remotely religious or suggestive about Klo City.
I’d like to see the back page profiles of contributors removed in future editions of Klorofyl. They were repetitive (they appear at the articles and photo pages already) and implied a board of editors or contributors not open to additions from the public. I can think of no better place to welcome entries from aspiring writers and photographers than on the credits page.
If I don’t stop here I’d fall into the category of the Nollywood film marketers who practically tell you the entire story before you have a chance to buy and see for yourself. Why would I want to do something so criminal?
When you read The Klorofyl City issue, think about the artist in you and the beauty in your city.
P.S. There are exactly five hundred words in this magazine review.