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Recent Articles

The bee's wax


I like to say to people that I’m hood. In fact, when Ezra recently told me ‘Hood Morning (that’s how we greet in the hood)’, I felt quite happily gangster. But I must say – I’m not hood. Neither am I gangster. Neither am I street. I like to believe that the reason I try to associate myself with being ‘tough’ is because I never really experienced hardship. I never

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Bolu isn’t Gay… Indeed

When I was younger, I misconstrued a lot of things, and I grew up with a lot of misinterpretations. This was partly because Nigerians, generally, are sarcastic people and partly because I was a little awkward as a child. For instance, up until I was about 12 years old, I honestly thought the word ‘indeed’ meant ‘you’re lying’. Because, if I said ‘I’m serious, I didn’t do anything’ the reply

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I wrote this last night. ‘It’s 1:25am and I’m awake. I’m up for two reasons. • My friend, Modupe, just woke me up with a call. • I’m plotting Ahmed’s murder. Modupe is my beautiful, unassuming best friend who would never hurt a fly. She is however married to an imbecile of a man; Ahmed. I have gotten countless calls like this in the past two years they have been

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Hey Babe

                                                                                                                 12 December, 2013 Hey Babe, I can’t believe I’m writing this letter. Two years

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Definitely Unsure

How did I get to be in this place, at this time, for this reason? We are about 6 girls now. We are basically girls. The oldest of us would probably be that girl sitting at the far end of the bench opposite mine, reading a Joyce Meyer book (very inappropriate for the moment except she’s desperately looking for some conviction and last minute excuse to get out of here).

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I’m Back!

I’M BACK! Yes! I missed this blog terribly. So… after the strike, we all resumed and there was just a lot to take in. People had grown taller, some finer, some had cut their hair :O, some were carrying babies , plus everybody became so serious. It was like I didn’t get a certain memo that instructed everyone to go to the library. Anyway, to avoid judgment, I had to

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I Hated my Childhood

I hated my childhood. I did. When I think back to my childhood days, I shiver a little bit. Sometimes, I even semi-yell out an ‘arrgh’. I was dyslexic – Simple. Or was it? I didn’t start speaking until I was three years old. I could speak in my mind though. But it was really hard producing what I was thinking into spoken words. I wrote my ‘d’ as ‘b’,

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Just Shut Up

My name is Jane and I am a karateka. No, scratch that, I am a black belt karateka. Most karate fighters have heard, a least once, that ‘Your belt does not show how good you really are at karate. Your skills define your karate’. But I must humbly say that I am good. Very good. I started karate at the very old age of 15years old. I had just started

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Our Leaders are not Sincere

*Hello! This is a post that was sent to me by my 50+ year old friend. I read it, thought some good issues were raised, and I’ve decided to share. Enjoy!* Recently, I attended the 50th birthday party of a Secondary School mate.  At the well-attended party which had Ebeneezer Obey on the band stand, and while gulping down his expensive red wine, it suddenly occurred to me that if

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