Fiction and Articles

A few years ago, my mother would look at me in disbelief as I ate voraciously like a cocoon at late hours of the night.   She would and still say things like “you shouldn’t eat that heavy before bed” and go on to list a million reasons why. It didn’t make sense to me then. As a matter of fact, I needed the heavy meals to throw me into deep night sleep and like clockwork 10minutes after eating I will fall asleep waking up maybe once or twice during sleep for number 1. Good times, I guess. A few weeks ago, I started to notice something different. After “inhaling” my heavy meals and hitting the bed, I will start to feel a funny sensation of my food wanting to go back to my throat-a form of self-regurgitation. I didn’t think too much of it until I started to observe that the nights when this happened were nights when I went to bed just right after I ate. I do not know what to make of this. I wonder if my metabolism slowed down. I wonder if I got old. Did I get old? I hope that’s a good...

I heard lately it's been about who said what and what who said. Other people’s lives and choices have become our primary occupation as we analyse, dissect and even make up the stories as if they happened right before our eyes. Dear Nigerian Youths, who blindfolded us and turned off the lights? This is a call to action. A call to realise that the hourglass never stopped. It is time to leave that room; enough of judge and jury. It is time to build nations, invent, innovate, break grounds and groundbreaker in humanity, politics, science, fashion and art. We are in the era of slavery that is not by chains and shackles but by data bundles. Set yourself free before you are long lost and forgotten. We are the masters of our fate, the captains of our souls.   P.s: men invented cars including lambos. Spread the word.

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...

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 ...