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Me and My Strength 

We used to be best pals before; me and my strength. I would wake up in the morning and I didn’t even need to tell it –  it would already be coursing through my mental, physical body, gearing me up for the day.  If I wanted to resist eating something I realized I was getting addicted to, I’d just tell my strength to get it out of the way for

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Love is (automatically) Supportive

  On the 27th of July 2015, at about 10:30pm, I climbed Kevwe’s bed on the top bunk, pulled out my laptop and started typing an article for which I had gotten an inspiration to write during the day. Intermittently, I would pause, pick up my phone and reply Yinka’s chat or I would crack a joke for my roommates and we’ll all laugh.   Leave me in a desert

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Red Means Hot

I am a literature teacher in a deceptively tacky school. I don’t care much for my job and trust me, my job doesn’t care much for me. The students I teach? Average. Okay English. Okay Diction. Okay willingness to learn. Just Okay everything. Sometimes, I think my average unprogressive life might actually be rubbing off on them. But hey, I’m not here to talk about my trials, tribulations, worries, sorrows,

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