• DIARY

    What it feels like to be me

    I’m lying on the bed, having the worst of cramps, trying so hard not to snap or yell at my roomies who are preparing for lectures. It is 8:14AM and there is just a shaft of sun ray in the room, fusing with the electric light to give us illumination. I have been thinking a lot since I woke up. Of childhood. Little beginnings and once in a while surprises. Growing up, I had wanted so much to be an adult within a twinkle of an eye. I wanted to wear pretty dress, have boyfriends and paint my lips a screaming red. No one told me to be careful of…

  • Uncategorized

    Memories

    Sometimes I can not differentiate my past from my dreams. They come in  same shade of sepia, fusing into one body. One. I’m falling into a bottomless pit. Down, down, down I go. My voice stretched so thin as I call my mother. ‘Mummy!!!’ ‘Hang in there’ her voice reverberates. ‘The pastor will soon be here’ ‘Mummy!!!’ ‘You’re covered by the blood of Jesus. Nothing will happen to you’ ‘Mummy!!!’ I fall into something hard and soft; my father’s chest. ‘Why didn’t you call me’ he asks. I wake up panting.   Two. Mother is heavily pregnant. I meet her in labour pains after school. ‘Get the baby bag at…

  • RANDOMS

    Waist Training! Are there lurking dangers?

    Whether getting the much craved hourglass figure, losing post-pregnancy bump or losing abdominal fat, waist trainer dangers cannot be overemphasized. Yea, many people want to get a banging shape. We want to look attractive and make jaws drop. No wonder the hour glass shape is trending. And those people many of us look up to fashion- wise, keep flaunting it across social media platforms. The danger that lurks within, is that many people buy into it and are misled with their eyes blind to the dangers of waist trainers. It is good to lose weight and be in shape, but we advice you do it in a healthy way. You…

  • DIARY

    Dear Diary

    I saw a question on quora today. ‘What bothers you about Nigeria’. The answers were the usual; corruption, poor economy, terrorism, over population etc. I found myself engrossed in these answers, reading and shrinking in shame. Wondering when it would all get better. When we wouldn’t have to answer silly questions about the country. The sight of a madman having breakfast of stale bread dunked in a puddle by the roadside reminded me of yet another problem in Nigeria. And yes, one of the things that bothers me most about Nigeria is the way mental issues are sidelined and tagged spiritual. In secondary school I had a classmate who sometimes…

  • MUSINGS

    Becoming A Lady

    Of all the things I have to battle with as a young lady, skin reaction is the worst. It comes in all shades; red ringlets, rashes, eczema, pimples and what have you. Change of cream- skin reaction, change of soap- skin reaction, two days perspiration- skin reaction. Even using a different powder gives me skin reaction. I had thought I was a lucky girl. While my peers had their fair share of whitlow, “craw craw”, chickenpox and measles, I had escaped those. Free as a bird, assuming I was immune. But then adulthood taught me different. That I was but a butterfly that thinks itself a bird. No one told…

  • FICTION

    Mad House

    A man is never ugly, mama had said. And that was how I  ended up with Kibuku -the man that calls himself my husband. In the early days, I couldn’t stomach the ugly look. I couldn’t stop wondering how God had made such an ugly being. I couldn’t sleep beside him at night without cursing him a million times for his snores that shook our small flat. But with time, just as mama had said, I had reconciled with the fact that it wasn’t all about good looks and body. It was about the heart. Matters of the heart. About having someone who adores the very ground you step on.…

  • FICTION

    I Am In Love With A Married Man

    I am in love with a married man. He calls me baby. He says his day begins with thoughts of me, and that each dawn heightens his feelings for me. I am in love with a married man. We had dated for two months before I discovered he is married. That this man I call lover is a father to two teenagers and a husband to a petite woman. But it didn’t change anything. It didn’t. Rather it made me love him more. The excitement and secrecy was like pumping adrenaline. It drew us together like magnet. And before we knew it our passion soared above skyscrapers and became too…

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