The bee's wax
Nestled in the comfort of my extremely comfortable and humongous pajama; while struggling with two exaggerating and attention-seeking sleepy eyes; and with so much joy and relief in my heart, I click on the button that took ChapterIV.ng live today! If you don’t know what ChapterIV is, read my post on it here and/or simply visit the site here. The first time I announced the existence of ChapterIV as an idea
FINALLY! Finally, I’m doing something more intentional about human rights in my society and I’m really excited about it. When Uka Eje (Yesss, the guy who the Vice President spoke about at The Platform—- I know people, guys), called me and gave me this idea, I thought, ‘WOW! Why did I never think about this.’ And as it ran it through my mind all day, I could barely sit still.
For the first time since I could put pen to paper, this year I did not write a list of ‘New Year Resolutions’. Why I did not do that is story for another year, but given that I am not feeling very ‘resolutionary’ this year, I decided to just be more intentional in my everyday living. This was probably why I overtly boycotted the default CDS* allocation system of NYSC
When my kids grow older and ask me the inevitable ‘How did you and daddy meet’ question, I’ll leave it to my husband because he tells the best stories (and also because I tend to mix reality with fantasy so I might actually end up telling them, how I *wish* we met instead of how we met). When they ask if it was love at first sight, I’ll rush in
Hey, Let’s play the most illogical game on planet earth! It’s called the ‘Blame Shame Game’. Follow me closely as I take you through its equally illogical rules. First, there has to be a victim of sexual violence. Now note that this character will not be a player of the game but the subject of it. Character should preferably be female, but can also be male. There has to
LOL! I was looking through my old mails and I stumbled upon this letter I had written on behalf of my friend, to her boyfriend in 2015. I was a self-proclaimed expert romantic-letter-writer and was, based on that, contracted to help wish her boyfriend ‘Happy Birthday.’ (I have excluded names and other information that may give clues about said couple). Enjoy! ______________________ ___ July 2015
I have always loved to kiss my son’s head ever since he was born. It was such an intoxicating thing to do; I would gently place my entire face on his little head and inhale deeply (sometimes, drops of baby oil will zoom their way into my brain – but I did not care). I would stay there and just breathe; inhaling his natural baby scent mixed with man-made products.
Just some days ago, I was talking with my friend Dayo, and we were gisting about how 2017 was. I was going on and on about how I had already started writing a depressing article about it and how I will not post such negativity on my blog, but will send it to him (because obvs, I don’t care very much about him). But then I went to church
… albeit with Lethargy A couple of months ago, I quit a good paying job simply because I was not seeing the proportional result of my input. This was not my first time of doing this. I have realized over time that I get super weary in situations where I cannot refer to a tangible outcome of what I do – whatever that is. In my head, it should