It was one of those Friday nights- around past 10pm, Vic had dragged me out to get “Turkish Shawarma” and meet his new friend Sal. I did not feel like going out initially but no sooner had we driven out and started to see the Aminu Kano streetlights of the famous Wuse 2 that I began appreciating being dragged out. It gave me Lagos vibes that was good enough for the night. As we went round and round trying to find a place to park I was intrigued by the pick-me-up girls on the streets. How well dressed they were and how beautiful they looked. I wasn’t judging but started to think about what the stories of each one might be. My imagination was cut short when we spotted a lady with a really really fat a$$. We will call her Lady E. She had those behinds that you cannot deny and she cat-walked the road as if she was on a runway. A couple of minutes after with shawarma in hand, Vic, Sally and I went back to where we were parked just close by ...
It was one of those typical Sundays as a Nigerian living in Nigeria. If you are Christian, you will typically have gone to church and attended a church service for at least two hours. Depending on your age bracket and your family’s style, you either stop by at the market to buy food items and head home to clean and cook or you stop by at a local restaurant to have lunch. From statistics, the former was usually the case as a teenager. If you have become an adult fending for yourself, then you probably think Sunday lunch should either be made at home except you are invited over to a friend’s or relative for free food or have plans to eat out and never to be ordered. Let us assume you are a working adult, privileged enough to own your own space and have the food items in your fridge to make that Sunday rice that you can eat over and over again. The weather is hot but you are grateful for electricity, cold water in your fridge and the opportunity to “balance” with that rice, turkey and a v...
I can’t be here for you today, Kamsi, no. I know he left you without words and your tummy hurts. Kamsi, today, I want to put on my finest jewelry and cook for my man. Did I also tell you I have to pick up the kids from school? My manager called. I just might get that promotion I had mentioned over and over again. Kamsi, look, you must get a hold of yourself. I have many more important things to do today Kamsi and none of your rants will take us anywhere or put money in our pockets. Today, Kamsi, only today- let me be the star of the story; talking about how I’ve made all this money and how the men can’t get enough of my body. Kamsi, today I do not want to hear your advice. How my waist can be slimmer, my breast fuller or my bums wider-no Kamsi. Kamsi, I say all these in my head even as I swipe my phone to the right as your call comes in the second time. I exhale as the words finally roll from my now open mouth. “Kamsi I’m so sorry. I saw your message. Tell me all ...
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