This is the writer's voice, new fiction from the New Yorker. I'm Deborah

Treisman, fiction editor at the New Yorker. On this episode of the writer's voice we'll hear Muhammad Nasihu Ali read his story

Allah of Mercy from the April 1st 2024 issue of the magazine. Ali is the author of the Prophet of Songo Street, a story collection which came out in 2005.

He teaches undergraduate fiction in NYU's creative writing department.

Now here's Mohammed Nasiyu Ali.

Allah have mercy.

Allah have mercy. A huge hand grabbed the back of my neck as I stepped out of the

rack cinema and instinctively I knew whose hand it was.

I beg you, forgive me in Allah's name, I pleaded.

Uncle Samo's white palm came down across my face,

the force of the blow nearly capsizing me.

Shut up, you bastard child, he shouted.

With squinting, teary eyes, I watched the two friends I was with flee the scene, merging into the trunk of cinema goers.

Uncle's long fingers gripped my neck again, creating a nose of flesh and bone.

And Allah's name, I beg for your pattern.

I wouldn't do this again.

I managed to say amid dry sobs. I felt a throbbing pain in my head and my legs began to buckle

under the weight of his hand pressing down on my neck. Uncle must have noticed this.

He released my neck and quickly grabbed my elbow,

yanking me alongside him.

I labored to keep up with his long strides, but kept falling behind

and stepping on the back of his flip-flops. He gave me a slap each time this happened, then continued to drag me forcefully, the way

...