Author Archives: Dang

Movie Review: Acrimony: A Woman Scorned Must Never Blow Her Second Chance At Happiness

In ACRIMONY, Melinda (Taraji P. Henson) is on the receiving end of a restraining order filed by her ex-husband, Robert (Lyriq Bent). The court orders her into therapy, and her story unfolds in flashback. She meets Robert in college, and they quickly fall in love and marry; Melinda uses money from her mother’s life insurance to finance his dream project, a self-charging battery. Years go by, and Melinda continues to support Robert, with no hope on the horizon. Their marriage disintegrates, partly due to the re-emergence of Diana (Crystle Stewart), a former flame of Robert’s. After Melinda and Robert’s divorce, Diana helps him sell his idea, and they become wealthy. But despite Robert paying Melinda $10m and buying back her mother’s house, she still believes that her life has been stolen from her — and only revenge can quench her ferocious rage.

I had fun hearing different perspectives from people about this movie but this is what I’ve always preached, don’t turn into an angry person because you can’t have the man you want. I really do not like how the black woman was portrayed like she’s always angry and would rather destroy what she cannot have. The movie is also real in the sense that women sometimes sacrifice too much and end up blaming the recipient when they end up with less than expected. I cannot deny the fact that Robert was a parasite, he didn’t care if Mel was working endlessly to keep them, he just wanted to survive, while he worked on his dream. For 18 years, Melinda kept supporting her home and losing herself and her youth in the process

Melinda went too far in trying to get Robert back, which to me was very unnecessary. Definitely, movies like this should be made, that when it comes to obsession and betrayal, both parties never walk away unscathed… As adults, we make our own decisions, we are well capable of moving on and finding our happiness but the moment we assume our happiness is hinged on someone or getting married to someone, it is only downhill from there

I don’t think there’s anything wrong with going after a man you want but if he doesn’t want you, move on. We must also take responsibilities for our actions as I’ve seen and heard ladies blame Robert for Melissa’s tragedy. I do not like Robert but Melinda was a woman scorned who didn’t take the second chance she was given but chose to go back to the past and deny everyone of what could have been. The ultimate revenge at Robert would have been to live her best life but she chose rage and revenge over a second chance at happiness.

This movie leaves one feeling awful and hopeless, but I must say, it made me more determined to live my life on my own terms and not tie my happiness to a circumstance or human. That way, moving on will be easier and expecting new opportunities will be my motivation.

Tolu Toolz Oniru-Demuren

“This is My Work Ethic: Get the Job Done by Any (legal) Means Necessary! I hate Excuses.”- Tolu “Toolz” Oniru-Demuren, Assistant Director of Programmes Beat FM

DANG: In this day and age, most OAPs try to blend in and few end up with mixed / fake accents. As the director of programs for Beat FM, what makes a great OAP? Content, accent, voice?

Toolz: I think what makes a great OAP is their ability to relate to and engage their audience. The most important thing is to know your audience and make sure you give them what they want. Have your own identity, know your music and know what makes you different. I have an accent because I spent my formative years in the UK, but I don’t believe you need to have an accent to be a great OAP. In my opinion, it’s always better to speak properly than to have an accent.

DANG: The Media moves with trends to stay relevant, evolving is inescapable. As one of the leading OAP/TV host in this part of the world, how have you managed to incorporate the ever-changing trends?

Toolz: I’ve been lucky to have some amazing opportunities come my way, but I’ve also realized the importance of deliberately building a brand. Know and maximize your strengths. Also, know and maximize on current trends. In this day and age, you have to make sure you have exposure on all or most trending platforms. Social media is massive now, so as someone that’s in the media/entertainment industry, even if I’m not a fan of social media I need to make sure my brand is visible there.

DANG: As the Director of programs/decision maker, how well do women support each other in the entertainment industry?

Toolz: The entertainment industry is still very male-dominated, which is a big shame, but it is gradually changing. Women definitely support each other, but I find that we are often pitted against each other. With regards to artists, for example, it’s almost like there’s an unwritten rule that there can only be one successful female artist at a time which is ridiculous. There’s room for plenty.

DANG: What is your work ethic?

Toolz: Get the job done by any (legal) means necessary! I hate excuses, and I hate being in the position where I have to make excuses.

DANG: What makes ‘Toolz’ Toolz?

Toolz: I try to be unapologetically true to myself. I have moments when I want to be silly, I have moments when I prefer being sophisticated. It’s important to me to go with whichever emotion I’m feeling at that point and to not let anyone dictate that part of my life to me.

DANG: What most people see is the glamorous life of every OAP. What piece of advice would you give undergraduates / fresh graduates out there who crave for a career on the radio?

Toolz: The glamorous side is perhaps 10% of it. I tell graduates/interns to be prepared to be fully committed to the job, even when it’s not fun. I’ve been at Beat FM for almost 10 years now, and I’ve only had 2 Christmas days off… because they fell on weekends.

DANG: What would you say are the top 3 skills required of an all-around entertainer?

Toolz: – Knowing and mastering your craft
– knowing your audience
– Knowing how and when to reinvent yourself

DANG: Through trying times personally and work-wise, what has kept you grounded?

Toolz: God, family, and friends. Last year was particularly trying for me, and I’m thankful for my relationship with God, and I’m also so incredibly grateful for the support network of family and friends that I have around me

Bimbo craig

“After Surviving A Brain Tumor, I Realised There is so Much out There to Live For, I Knew I had Taken Life For Granted, I knew There is A God” – Bimbo Craig

DANG: Tell me the similarities between Bimbo Craig and your character, Tiwa in ‘skinny girl in transit’

Bimbo Craig: There are a lot of similarities between Tiwa and Bimbo. But the only difference is the fact that Bimbo doesn’t have anybody hitting on her. You see, Tiwa with all these fine looking men. Bimbo doesn’t even have OKAY looking men. To be honest, that’s just the biggest difference. But the journey is the same journey. For pretty much all my life, I’ve always been overweight. My mum was always on my case about it but the truth is that I realize that when people are ready for something, they are ready. Nobody can force you into something. It’s a decision you have to come to for yourself and when you realize it, then you make the necessary steps to make the changes. So my mum was always on my case about my weight. But it took me having a brain surgery, -in 2014, I had a tumor in my brain- for me to realize that there is so much out there to live for. If I could live a healthier life, I could try. If it doesn’t happen, and I don’t reach whatever size it is, that’s fine. But I want to constantly be on this journey of healthiness.

So I encourage a lot of women, be healthy. You are big, that’s fine. But just live a healthy lifestyle. Don’t just be big and sit down in one place. I keep telling them that. Which is why when certain people reach out to me in relation to plus size like “come and talk about this, come and talk about that”, I’m like, I don’t really know what to tell you.

I feel like people are losing the undertone message of what the movement should be about. For example, there a lot of plus size women who are into modeling. If you follow these women judiciously, you will find out that they exercise. Life needs to be balanced and that’s what we are lacking. You live, you eat, you sleep but you need to exercise. There needs to be some form of activity. You need something that will get your heart pumping.



DANG: How difficult or easy has the weight loss journey being?

Bimbo Craig: There is always that constant struggle to try to eat right. The constant struggle to try to work out. I was telling my friend one day, “I’m tired”. Sometimes, I cry. I cried last week because I’m tired of the fact that before I go to bed at night, I’m thinking of what to eat the next day. When I wake up in the morning, I’m thinking. And it’s not necessarily because there is no food available. It’s just making sure I make the right decisions.

Look, I’m not trying to be a size 12. I want to be thick but I want to be fit. Thick-fit, that’s what I want. I want to be able to see muscles and ribs in my body. I want to be like Serena. It’s not easy but the truth is, we really make time for things that are important to us.

DANG: I also read that ‘Skinny girl in transit’ fell on your lap. So even though you didn’t plan for it, how has the past 3 years been? How has the show impacted your life personally?

Bimbo Craig: First of all, the attention is crazy. I really don’t like attention. It makes me very uncomfortable. The three years have been crazy but I’m appreciative because I’m not only the actress in the show, I’m the producer. The ultimate joy is to see people appreciate the show. I never thought it would be this engaging which is why every time I sit down and I come up with the synopsis, I try to make the situations as realistic as possible. There are certain elements to the show that if you sit down and reflect about it, you will see that it’s either you know someone it has happened to, or it has happened to you before. Which is why I feel people find it so relatable. So, it’s been crazy.

Also, it’s put a lot of pressure on me. Like I mentioned, you feel like you have to live up to a certain standard and for me, I like the pressure which is the fact that before I never used to want to check myself. I just say what I want and then keep moving. But it’s put a lot of pressure on me about the fact that I need to understand that people are watching. So what I put out there is very important, it’s made me a better person because now I feel like I’m accountable. There are people that I owe things to so I need to always check myself. I need to know what I’m saying, who I’m hanging with.

DANG: What does spirituality really mean to you?




Bimbo Craig: Spirituality to me is everything. Spirituality is not going to church but it’s within. Spirituality is a personal journey. I try telling people that there is nothing that I am right now without God. Because I have seen Him work in my life. After I had my brain surgery, (surgery was successful by the way) I was ill for like10 days. I couldn’t eat, I lost 10 pounds. One of the things doctors told me was to not bend my head when I vomit. I would vomit every day and every time I vomited, I would feel like my head was on fire.

Four years prior to that, my dad had passed from cancer. And when I found out that I had a tumor, I wept. I was uncertain as to what this tumor meant. So for me to have come out of that, unscratched, mentally intact, nobody can tell me that it is me. It is crazy and unfathomable and I believe it can’t be anybody else.

My mother calls me a miracle child. When I go for my yearly MRI checkup, she is like, “Bimbo, how do you go in and out of this MRI every year smiling and laughing?” I am tumor free, this is what would normally kill people but here I am, walking into MRI smiling in and laughing out. I can’t explain it, and for me, things that I can’t explain, I only attribute it to one thing and that is God!

Spirituality is where I find my strength. I do believe there is God. I’ve felt it so I know that He exists.

DANG: Where does your career go from here?

Bimbo Craig: In the past couple of months now, it’s something I have been reflecting on. I don’t know. The reason why I said I don’t know is that there are times in the past when I felt like I had structures and I knew where I was going and then the big guy up there just comes and surprises me. How far I thought skinny girl would go till now has not been up to me, God made this path possible. So I feel I will be ungrateful not to explore it. So, therefore, there are certain things I really love to achieve which is the fact I really love being behind the camera. I’m good at taking instructions and delegating. I like organizing. I like seeing things come together. I like coming out with ideas and seeing it to the end. So, I know that being behind the camera is something I love to do. But I’m also open to acting. Because I never thought I would get this far with it.

DANG: What has been your Naija girl experience? Being a single female in Nigeria specifically.



Bimbo Craig: I personally want to get married. I have said it before and I’m saying it again, it isn’t my main purpose in life, one of my purposes, I believe, is to be a mother. And because of the morals that I have, I know that I cannot have a child, I choose not to, and by the grace of God, because it’s willpower, I will not have a child out of wedlock. I know I need to be married in order for me to be able to give birth to a child. So for me, marriage is important. Now, I have never once set a standard as to when it is going to happen, but I do have a standard as to when I hope it does not happen. And the reason I said when I hope is, I don’t want to be married in my 50’s. By the time I’m 50, I hope to have achieved and enjoyed. And I believe that it would be more enjoyable and pleasant if there was someone by my side, but then I don’t have a time limit for God.

There are some people that don’t want to get married. I’m like that’s fine, but within my bones, I feel like every woman was created to be able to nurture and give love.

DANG: Do you feel pressured to get married?

Bimbo Craig: I don’t. But recently, I’ve been putting pressure on myself. And the reason why is this; I am a check and balance kind of person. And two/three years ago, I didn’t care that much. But with life comes changes and I started developing myself better. So I feel like I’m trying to live a better life. Trying to lose weight, trying to feel better within, trying to speak good about people constantly, trying to be a better person. I’m at a point whereby I’m ready to show other people that as well; that I’m a good person. And when I mean people, I don’t mean just men and women alone. I believe you are what you attract. So I’m now like, “okay Bimbo, start to give good energy so that you can get good energy back. And hopefully, with that good energy brings the right person

So based on that, the pressure is from me but it’s not heavy. NO pressure from the society and definitely not from my mother. It’s just awareness of it. It’s an aspiration.

#DANG

Boxing Featherweight Champion

Meet DANG, Your New Boxing Featherweight Champion, Weighing 69kg and Limping from Over-Sabi

Meet DANG, Your New Boxing Featherweight Champion, Weighing 69kg and Limping from Over-Sabi

I am going on vacation in a week’s time and my bikini body isn’t as neat as I want it to be. I’m running almost every night and working out from home but my love handles have stubbornly maintained their position. So yesterday while running, I passed by my gym and I thought to myself “stop by and let your instructor motivate you harder”.

Sweating and breathing hard, I branched at the gym. I told my instructor my situation and asked how he could help. He said, “try boxing, you have plenty energy, you might like it”. I quickly eyed the heavy bag, there was a lady punching away…she seemed to be enjoying herself and breaking a sweat. Hmmm, this might be interesting

The lady hitting the bag was boxing and kicking the bag at the same time. I wanted to do that too. My instructor gave me huge gloves that fit on the wrist but felt heavy on my hand. He then handed me over to the trainer and said “just have fun with it”. As I was waiting for the trainer to finish up with the lady and start with me, Small Doctor’s “penalty” came on. I started bouncing on my feet like Mayweather. Throwing punches in the air and working my waist. I was getting excited. The trainer told me “I like your spirit”. I told him “I’m ready when you areeee”




“Chin down, knees bent always, right toe parallel with the left knee, let your body control your head, hands up protecting your face, elbow by your hips…” The trainer bellowed out instructions. “When can I start kicking?” I asked him. He said “no kicking, just hands for now”. I did as I was told. He then asked to be excused to quickly attend to something. While he was away, I practiced my stance.

He was taking forever so I started punching the bag. It felt harder than I anticipated but I felt good. Then the devil whispered in my ear, “kick the bag, the trainer won’t know you did”. I looked around, the guy was nowhere in sight so I pulled back, raised my legs high and made the “heeeeeeyyyyaaahhhh” sound then kicked the heavy bag. Everything seemed to happen at the same time. The bag hit me instead of me hitting the bag, it felt like my hip bone had dislocated from its socket, my shin was on fire and I landed with a thud on the floor

I didn’t know what to hold, my hip or my shin, or my bum that landed heavily on concrete. What is this life? I came here all excited and I’m going to leave in an ambulance? That trainer looked mean, I wasn’t sure he would look kindly upon me when I told him I did exactly the opposite of what I was told. I managed to get up, walked around to figure out what was broken, everything seemed fine but my right hip hurt like crazy.




When the trainer came back, I sucked it all up and did boxing 101 for another 30minutes. Because bikini body…

After the training was done, I had never felt so tired in my life. Muscle fatigue, legs were hurting like hell, arms, neck, everything hurt so much. Even though I limped home, I still felt good. When my friend called me later on FaceTime, she asked me “why are you frowning now?” I couldn’t tell her that I wasn’t frowning, that at that particular time, all the muscles in my body had lost the capacity to move

I’ll be going back tonight. No retreat, No surrender. Anthony Joshua, your wife is about to have EVERYTHING in common with you. Wait forrit!

Female Uber Driver

“People Cancel Their Trips When They Find Out I’m Female”- Bunmi, Female Uber Driver

My name is Olubunmi Isaac, 33-Years-Old and I drive Uber and Taxify for a living. I started around July 2017.

DANG: What made you start the Uber Business?

BUNMI: I left my job in 2016.I used to be a banker but I was constantly frustrated by my boss who had at some point asked me out and I declined. At every opportunity, he was piling up the queries (for no just cause) so I just figured; before I get a sack letter, it is best I just leave.

DANG: Did this boss ever ask you out?

BUNMI: At some point, he did. I got to job that faithful day and I saw another query and I said, “No, I’m not going to respond to this” and I tendered my resignation letter. I left the job just like that.

DANG: Did you ever think of reporting him?

BUNMI: I did not. The only alternative that came to my mind was just to leave the job. And I left that very morning. And that was it. For close to a year, I did nothing. I mean, I had worked non-stop for more than 7 years so I thought “okay, let me just take a chill. In 2017, I figured; ‘okay, I am done resting, time to start up something’. I contacted a few people that I know and told them I needed money to start up a business. No one was forthcoming. Then someone said; ‘Bunmi, instead of looking for money, why not sell your car and start up a business?’ I thought, instead of selling my car, why not use my car to make money? That was how I started driving for Uber and Taxify”

DANG: How profitable is Uber Driving?

BUNMI: On a good day, depending on how well and active you can work, I can make up to N25,000. The more I work, the more I earn. So, on a bad day, because there are times you turn on your app and you won’t get trips, I make an average of N5,000

DANG: So you can say right now that the business is going on well for you?

BUNMI: At the moment, yes. I needed money for my business, I can say to a great extent, I’m satisfied with the money I’ve saved so far. When I first started, I worked for like straight two months. Even on Sundays, Saturdays, public holidays, I’m on the road.

DANG: What sort of business do you plan to do with the savings you make?

BUNMI: I’m into cosmetics right now, learning to install semi-permanent eyelashes at the moment. I’m also running a delivery company with my car. As time goes on, once I get steady clients, I’ll buy a motorcycle then get someone who will run errands with me.

DANG: I’m sure driving Uber would have taught you some life lessons?

BUNMI: I have learned to respect everyone most importantly. Let me tell you a story: There is a particular day I picked up a lady, at some point, I told her to help me lock the door and she was like “yes ma’am”. Obviously, she might be older than me and she was so courteous and I’m like “Wow”. Then she smiled and told me a story of how a close friend of hers took a taxi, he was going to a company to secure a contract. So, the guy was in the taxi and was talking to someone. The taxi man could hear his conversation and then immediately he ended the call, the taxi man asked him that “are you going to (name withheld) company, what do you need there?”

The rider almost insulted him like “what do you know? Your job is to drive”. But something just told him to keep quiet and listen to what he had to say. So, he told the driver what he was going to do at the company. The driver said “Oh! I actually know the head of the company. He is my younger brother” The passenger got the contract from that company after he was introduced.

The lady told me, that has really taught her that you don’t look down on people, you must respect them the same way you respect yourself. Even up to your gateman, you don’t know who they are.

Driving Uber has taught me to have a listening ear, to respect people because you never know who you’re carrying in the car, who they are now and who they can become in future

DANG: What reactions do you get when people see that you’re a female driving Uber/Taxify

BUNMI: When people see that it’s a girl driving, some of them just cancel the trip. Women and men but more from women. I’ve actually picked someone that requested up to 5 times, about the 5th time, she gave up during the drive, she told me, she is not comfortable with a female Uber driver. So I asked her, ‘Are you aware that females drive uber all around the world? Even in Dubai?’ She said, “Well, that’s outside Nigeria”. I mean, I’ve picked up someone who said he was not comfortable with me driving him and so he would like to drive.

We still have a long way to go in Nigeria. There is a lot of sexism. A lot

DANG: No regrets?

BUNMI: I am glad I defied the odds and took a bold step, I’ll always be proud of myself for that.

Safari tour

Rwanda Travel Diary: During the Safari Tour, The Devil Tried It!

I decided to cap my holiday in Rwanda with a Safari tour at the Akagera National Park. I went with them because I got good reviews. It was such a wonderful experience and very peaceful too.

During this tour, I saw black faced wild monkeys, baby Zebras, Giraffes, Buffalos, Elephants and a new animal I just discovered called Topi (Please view pictures on Instagram). I was in a good mood, my mood got better when a Hippo stuck out its head from the lake and exhaled through its nose as water splashed everywhere, it was so cool to watch.

Right on my left were crocodiles. So beautiful these creatures, minding their business and loving not being interrupted. I took pictures and just stood there, my head popped out on the open roof of the truck, breathing in the peace, wondering what it would be like to have this kind of life, every day, shared with my loved ones.



“Let’s go,” I said to the driver before I got too used to it.

We had not moved 20feet before we plunged into a deep pothole. I was scrolling through my pictures, patting myself on the back for doing alright and assumed the driver would drive on out of the pothole. Then I heard the tour guide say “Sister, the car is stuck”.

My attention immediately shifted away from my camera to the front of the car -where I noticed the truck was really in an awkward position- then behind me where the crocs and Hippo were loving their lives.

“It’s not a serious problem, we just have to lift the car a little bit from the front,” Said the tour guide.

‘First of all, who is “we”?’ I wondered in my mind because Travel Den already paid for this tour so the only thing I’m supposed to be doing is enjoying my life in the wild- the animals and me.



‘Secondly, I’m just some feet away from Hippo and Crocs, I will not be able to get down from this truck, because… my life.’

The tour guide had alighted from the truck, then he came to my side of the window, asking me to alight as well. I rolled down the window just a little bit and asked him “Can I float in the air?” He said “huh?”
“The only way I’m getting off this truck is to float in the air where nothing can touch me.” It took him a minute to comprehend but when he did he cracked up so hard. Well, it wasn’t funny to me, getting stuck in the jungle was never part of the plan.

Both driver and tour guide alighted from the truck and asked me to get behind the wheels and gently accelerate as soon as they lift the car. That sounded better so I did as I was told. In minutes, the situation was rectified. You would think they’d jump in the car ASAP, instead, they remained outside, chit chatting and inspecting the bonnet.




Ah! Issokay! I stayed behind the wheels. In my mind, I knew if the Hippo chose to be unfortunate and prance towards us while they were busy chit chatting, I could drive off and leave the two experienced hands behind. I was sure they could catch up, the Rhino has seen them many times, I was the one in a strange land.

It wasn’t long though before God gave them sense and they joined me in the truck. We proceeded to continue to enjoy wildlife, safely from the car’s open roof.

genocide

Kigali Travel Diary: My Visit To The Genocide Memorial in Kigali

Travel Diary: My Visit To The Genocide Memorial in Kigali

Once upon a time, there was a united Rwanda, where everyone lived in peace and no man thought to separate himself from the rest because he is more elitist than most. Then the white man colonized the Rwandans and saw the need to categorize the people as elitist and the majority. The elitists were the ethnic group called Tsutsi: the 15% that was seen as more intelligent and industrious. The Hutu, the majority (84%), less superior and not worthy of breathing the same air as the Tsutis

The Belgians educated and favoured the Tsutis but ignored the Hutus. The Tsutis began to feel like the untouchables, the white man told them they were the better ethnic group, therefore they were. The Hutus got tired of feeling like second-class citizens, seeing as they were more than the elitists, they took over power and waged war in Rwanda, having no mercy on the Tsutis, killing them like chickens, leaving their bodies on the streets to be feasted upon by dogs and raping the women, deliberately infecting them with HIV.

During the war, the French continued to sell weapons to Rwanda.

Rwanda had turned into a nation of brutal sadistic merciless killers and of innocent victims overnight.




About 1,070,014 people died in 100 days. Most of the dead were Tsuti.

This is a summary of the Genocide.

At the solemn tear-inducing museum, many of us tourists spent hours reading the stories, looking at pictures of dead bodies, some decayed, some massacred. I felt the sadness in the room. All that information was a lot for one to take in at once. The war videos, handmade weapons, guns, skulls and skeletons that we saw live didn’t help matters. You could hear everyone sigh in sadness and heartbreak, I heard a lady sob, I saw tour guides shed tears and a male tourist clutch a branch of flower close to his chest as he wept in silence.

My heart was heavy but I was determined not to cry. I was very curious as to how any country could recover from this hell, how could they forgive one another and now live in Unity? This happened 25 Years ago but it felt like yesterday.



A Caucasian lady had appeared beside me, she was shaking her head in shock while viewing harrowing pictures, so I asked her “What are you thinking?” She swallowed the lump in her throat and said “This is why I brought my daughter here. To show her that we are the wrongdoers and the colour of our skin does not make us superior. I want her not to harbour any dirty thoughts towards people of colour. She must learn the survivor story of Rwanda then when she gets back home, she will tell her friends, ‘Africa is a great continent filled with survivors'”

Her eyes were heavy with tears as she continued to shake her head in disbelief at the images before us. I sat down then because we were both in front of a screen showing a documentary of Rwandans who had survived.

What all the victims said had this in common “We must forgive or we will never move on”




This was when I cried and all the way to the chldren’s section where pictures of the cutest babies (dead) were displayed, I wept harder. Not only for the hell I had just seen with my own eyes but also because Nigeria is a divided country and I hoped, just as the Rwandans now see themselves as one, we are able to do the same.

It will do us some good to skip the war and go straight to seeing each other simply as one Nigeria. No one should ever live through what the Rwandans went through during the genocide. I hope you crave history and visit this place someday.


This trip was sponsored by www.travelden.com

Dear Mama: A Letter To The Woman I’ll Spend The Rest Of My Life Missing

Dear Mama: A Message To The Woman I’ll Spend The Rest Of My Life Missing

Hi Mama,

It’s been over 10 years since you’ve been gone. I remember that day clearly…no not the day you died, the day I went to the morgue to confirm myself that you were no more with breath. As soon as I walked into the morgue, I smelt it, chemicals mixed with decay, it wasn’t the best place to go find one’s mother but I needed to see it to believe it.

Then you were rolled out and I stood right beside you, I didn’t shed a tear as I put my finger under your nose, silently asking God to do this one thing for me and I’ll be a good girl all my life.

“You raised Lazarus from the dead, Oh Lord, please let her get up now, this woman has diligently served you all her life…” I asked God desperately. Outwardly I was calm, I didn’t want to get distracted, I wanted to feel your breath on my forefinger. I waited, but it didn’t happen, still, my heart cried to God until an aunt touched me on the shoulder and said it was time to go.

Sometimes, I still perceive the smell of the morgue because that’s a memory that will never go away but that’s okay.

Are you watching? Can you see what I’m doing with myself? Are you proud of me? Do you sometimes shake your head and smile at my silliness, turn down your lips on one side when I make foolish mistakes and cheer in joy when my persistence pays off? Knowing you, I know you’re doing all of these and more. This is the reward of all your kind discipline, values, teachings, and prayers. You taught me compassion and taught me how not to suffer fools gladly. You said to me “Compassion comes from deep in your heart, when your heart is not stirred, you’ll know the person is trying to take advantage of you and it’s time to stay away”.

I miss climbing into bed with you just to stress you out a little bit. I would talk and talk and you’d tell me “go and write these things in your diary. You’ll show your children someday” “But I want to tell you now” I’d sulk. You’d pretend not to care “Go and write it in your diary, I like reading your diary, it’s like a storybook” So, I’d write in my diary but pretend I’m writing to you. The story of how you made me begin to write will be told another day.

You loved us as best as you could, even when life was extremely difficult for you. You showed grace and strength even at moments when you could have been embarrassed, you extended a hand of help, even when you were in dire need of one. You were amazing and I couldn’t have asked for a better mum.

Even as you’re gone, the light of your wisdom continues to direct my path. I don’t think I said it enough, I LOVE YOU!

Happy Mother’s Day.

Your Baby,
Ife.

Open letter

RE: Open Letter to My Neighbour’s Son: Based on Recent Events, Ola Didn’t Get The Memo

I wrote an open letter to Ola on Friday, CLICK HERE TO READ but I’m not sure he got it based on the following events.

Today after church, I was in the living room when I heard Ola and his family’s chatter as they arrived from church. I know there’s no way they could have seen me but I crouched low on the couch anyway, I didn’t want any problem.

Who was I kidding? I soon heard a loud gentle rap on the door, “Knock knock”.

I sighed to myself. Since Friday, I had been getting home really late so I knew Ola probably had come to look for his juice in the past two days. There was still no juice in the house and no pineapple to make any. I wasn’t ready for interrogations so I made a soundless retreat to my room.

“Hellooo” Ola’s voice was higher now and his little fists banged on the door instead of knocking.

I was determined not to open the door, I like my Sundays quiet, seated in a corner at a restaurant or lounging in the dark at home minding my business.

My phone rings, it’s Ola’s mum. So not only had Ola come to ask for his juice, he also brought reinforcement. I accepted my fate and picked the call.

“Hello” I sounded sleepy like her call had woken me up.

“Wake up o. Come and collect your problem at the door” She said sternly like she couldn’t be stressed out by Ola and me.

“What problem?” I asked, still keeping up the act of drowsiness.

“Ola now. When you people were sharing juice was I there? It’s either you make him the juice or I do. But I won’t, so please just come and open the door so I can go and make lunch”

I unceremoniously cut her off the phone. Simply because I couldn’t deal.

As I opened the door for Ola and his mum, she laughed out loud at me and gently pushed her son inside my house. She turned back and left me at the door, while I thought of the best way to deal with Mr. toothless.

“I’m sorry I woke you up aunty,” He said as he walked straight to the kitchen. I followed him and watched him struggle a little to climb on the high chair. When he was settled in, he continued “I came yesterday, I think maybe twice but you were not at home. Did you and aunty Eunice travel?”

I wondered to myself if I should tell him that aunty Eunice wasn’t coming back and I had no time to make pineapple juice every day.

“No Ola, we didn’t travel, I came back home late but aunty Eunice is gone, that’s why there has been no pineapple juice. But don’t worry, when another aunty comes to help me, you’ll go back to getting your pineapple juice every day” This time I had pulled the other chair to sit beside him.

“But why can’t you make the juice yourself?” Ola was genuinely curious.

What kind of wahala is this for goodness’ sake? I haven’t gotten used to Ola’s prodding because I have never had to deal directly with him since I wasn’t the one making his juice, I wonder how Eunice dealt with his constant talking.

“Because I’m busy” I smiled at him.

“On a Sunday?” He hit me back quickly.

Ah! E gba mi ke. (Translation: Save me please)

“You know what? I’ll go get the pineapple and we’ll make the juice together. Deal?” I was tired of arguing with this Ninja

“Oh. I’d help you but I’m only 5” Said Ola, complete with both hands up in the air and then down to slap his knee.

I officially gave up. Ola has won this round!

Open letter

Open Letter to My Neighbour’s Son: Dear Ola, Pineapple Juice is not your birth right

Dear Ola,

When your lanky 5-year-old self-came to my apartment for your daily glass of pineapple juice, I accepted you with love but had to break the bad news to you, “Ola, there’s no pineapple juice today”. You looked up at me, arms akimbo, mouth open exposing your bare gums, “why?” You asked, confused and a little angry.

Sigh…

First of all Ola, the only reason this has become a habit is that your mama makes the dopest Jollof rice and she’s always kind enough to share with me. To answer your question, I said to you “Because I just got back from work.”

I sat on the couch, head slumped on the back of the chair, eyes closed, thinking of what to eat for dinner.

“Are you sick? Why are you so grumpy?” You asked me.

Huh? I opened my eyes with a start. I could smell mint and feel your breath on my face. Your head was so close to mine, I could have given you a headbutt but what would world people say?

“No, I’m not sick, just tired. You should go home.”

You had moved closer, looking deep into my eyes, scanning my face with your eyes, then you landed your gaze on my head. “Your hair is untidy Aunty. You must be really tired” I had removed my wig, my cornrows were a mess. Still, I was not in the mood today, so I think I may have snapped at you, just a little bit. “Yes, I’m really tired,” I said.

“Woah, Woah. So grumpy. Easy there,” You retorted, doing a stop sign with your palms.

I must admit, that cracked me up inside but I maintained a straight face. I was still staring at you, trying hard not to smile when you dragged your bum off the couch. I could hear the leather squeak.

“So really really there’s no pineapple juice today?” You asked again, this time looking at me like I had done something wrong.

“No. But there’s yogurt in the fridge if you want.” I was desperately trying to get you out of my hair.

You turned up your nose, looked at me in shock for daring to present you with an alternative. Your next words shocked me.

“How ‘igzactly’ is yogurt the same as pineapple juice?” You shook your head at me like this Aunty knows nothing, even Jon Snow will never present such solution to the problem at hand.

It was at that moment I knew, that my village people had sent you to frustrate my life.

“There won’t be pineapple juice for a long time, Aunty Eunice (my help) is not around,“ I said to you, getting up to go open the door since you were being childish. I could hear you trail behind me

“Okay, see you tomorrowwwww” You bounced out of the house, slamming the door behind you.

Dear Ola, I’m sending this open letter because I don’t want to have to endure your smart responses: I will not be ‘arand’ tomorrow, I’m working late. Plus, fresh pineapple juice is not your birthright!

Your grumpy neighbour.

Black Panther Review: Wakanda, The One African Country That Could Never be Called a ’Shithole’

Black Panther is the first black-led Marvel film directed by Ryan Coogler, starring Chadwick Boseman (Black Panther/T’challa), Lupita Nyong’o (Nakia), Michael B. Jordan (Killmonger), Angela Basset (Ramonda), Danai Gurira (Okoye), Letitia Wright (Shuri), Daniel Kaluuya (W’kabi), Martin Freeman (K.Ross) and Winston Duke (M’baku).

I have been excited about Black Panther since it was announced in 2016 and when it hit our cinemas, I couldn’t wait. What I did was try to tone down my excitement because I hate to be disappointed. I watched with precision, writing down my thoughts and analyzing every action, my purpose was to see if Africa was portrayed as it is or as it should be. I stilled myself while watching the movie and somewhere in between, I forgot to be a critic and got sucked into the land of Wakanda.

This movie is set in a fictional African country called Wakanda, where citizens have managed to live without interference and colonization because they tricked the world into believing they are powerless, while the country sits on the most powerful mineral, vibranium. In this case, vibranium can literally turn water to wine.




Wakanda has 5 tribes and one king. In Wakanda, powerful men understand the advantage of working with powerful women. Women who are sexy, strong and at the same time, smart and funny. In Wakanda, the best warrior is female and she has a whole battalion of females fighting with her

Black Panther will make a lot of Africans happy because it is in sharp contrast with the world we live in our continent. I was happy to travel to the fictional Wakanda, to see how the government of the country has held on to their natural resources, protecting their country from invasion by hiding themselves in plain sight, and how they live in harmony. Even their technology is way advanced than the west and the chief scientist is a woman too. The leaders of Wakanda are noble, incorruptible, heroic and a mix of the young and the experienced. This African country, could never be referred to, as a ‘shit hole’

However, as true to Africa/Africans we find that the enemy of Wakanda is not the white man (Klaus) whom Black Panther fought tooth and nail to catch/kill, the real enemy is Wakanda’s very own, Killmonger, T’challa’s cousin who has lived all of his life in the US and holds a massive grudge against EVERYONE.




Killmonger’s anger may be well found, as the previous king, Tchalla’s father killed his own father. Killmonger wanted revenge, he had a right to be angry but he took things too far. He coveted the Wakanda throne and his sole mission was to destroy the world not minding how Wakanda would be affected. Killmonger would be stopped but first, he would rule Wakanda.

According to Lupita N’yogo, “We all see ourselves better when we see ourselves in someone else”. This film connects us all with the colour of our skin. Wherever you may come from in the world, if your skin is black, you’re a descendant of Africa. This is why Wakandans have all sorts of accents and influxes from Nigeria to Ghana to Southern and Eastern Africa. In this African country, being king was not compulsorily hereditary, if some tribes wanted, they could fight for the crown with the incumbent king. These community fights happened twice, and they were two of the most powerful, heart wrenching and superb part of the movie where rich African culture was lavishly displayed.

One problem I may have is the fight sequence; all the fight scenes were nicely choreographed but if you look really closely, you’ll see that it seemed like a conscious dance routine, it didn’t appear seamless all the time. Also, No one got the accents right but… who ever does?

This is a brilliant movie, well thought of, well scripted and a visual joy. The reveal of Wakanda was euphoric, it didn’t come as a shock because the camera took us from one mouth-watering scene to the next knowing the climax may be too much so the cinematographer prepared us as we finally landed in Wakanda, the beautiful country that took my breath away. Every angle shot was perfect, every colour matched, there were no irrelevant cuts and let me tell you, every view looked as real as life and as surreal as an artwork. I was curious about who shot those fantastic pictures and I went searching. I found out it’s a woman….Oh, the joy.

As all Marvel movies, Black Panther ended in victory and the hero prevailed. But the extra scene after the credits gave me pause. The future of Wakanda is in the hands of King T’challa and he has decided to open up Wakanda’s resources to other countries.




Question: Would you advise Wakanda to share their resources with the world? What would the repercussion(s) be?

Honestly, I worry that this may cause irreparable damage but T’challa is damned if he does and damned if he doesn’t. He is a wise man with many great advisers so when next I travel to Wakanda, I hope the Africa we wish to live in remains as powerful, un-colonized and as developed as I left it in 2018.

If you’re from Wakanda, your skin colour is not a deterrent, you can be anyone you choose to be.

WAKANDA FOREVER!!!

You can also read: Movie Review: The Royal Hibiscus Hotel

Chronicles of Baba, My Late Grandpa: Messing With an Old Man's Money,Not A Good Idea

Chronicles of Baba, My Late Grandpa: Messing With an Old Man’s Money, Not A Good Idea

Chronicles of Baba, My Late Grandpa : Messing With an Old Man’s Money, Not A Good Idea

Yesterday as I ran errands for my sister, I parked beside a man who spoke my grandpa’s dialect and the man sounded just like him. I shed a tear as I remembered my time with Grandpa and how he frustrated my life. Baba (as we fondly called him) lived with us before he died and I have stories for days about our time together.

Baba was not allowed to eat meat of any kind but when Mum was not home, he’d insist I serve him Turkey along with his food. I was under strict instructions not to, so I’d decline. Plus Baba had a huge stash of money under his bed in a red ‘aso oke” trouser which he’d always deny. So when he asks for Turkey, I’d ask for money then we’d reach an impasse.




On this day, I needed Money and I noticed Baba had dozed off in front of the TV so I snuck into his room and went straight for the red aso Oke under the bed. This man had over 100k, just sitting there. I took N5000 and as I was arranging his bed to look as tidy as I had originally met it, I felt the first sharp pain on my head; it was Baba’s walking stick.
“This,” he said as he tapped the tip of the walking stick on my head after every word
“Is”
“Why”
“You”
“Didn’t”
“Pass”
“Jamb”
“You”
“Want”
“To”
“Become”
“An”
“Armed”
“Robber”

He tapped the same spot and did it so fast he was done by the time I turned around and scurried away. My head hurt so bad, I never ‘essperred’ it. When I saw him raise the walking stick again, I dodged, climbed the bed and escaped. Armed with N5000, I went shopping at Kantagora.

When I got back home, I expected a family meeting but everyone was in a good mood, including Baba and my mum. I was on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop

It happened around 2 am




From my sleep I felt someone shake me gently by the arm as I heard “pssst” “pssst” “Èmì (My soul, that’s what he called me), Èmì wake up”

I knew it was Baba. “What?” I snapped, still not happy with him. “Come and give me Turkey,” Baba said.

“But Baba mummy said I shouldn’t give you any meat,” I said as I sat up, knowing it was what I had to do. He had me by the balls.

“Turkey or I tell your mother that you’re now Shina Rambo,” He said, smiling still, so happy with himself.

I did what I had to do. Then learnt to perfect my thievery skills. I wasn’t ready for Grandpa to die because I couldn’t steal properly.

You can also read: Back to The Basics: For The First Time Since 2009, I Used A Public Transport in Lagos

Once Upon A Time, I Was Olivia Pope

Once Upon A Time, I Was Olivia Pope

Once Upon A Time, I Was Olivia Pope

Once upon a time, I thought it was my job to save you.
I imagined your capabilities and how I could make you brand new
I fell in love with that view
And when you said “Baby, for you I can be brand new”
I took that as my cue
So I assembled a crew

I changed my name to Olivia Pope
I assembled my associates
These bunch could keep our secrets
We would probe and solve your problems
I was full of hope

Once upon a time I was Olivia Pope
You weren’t good enough for me
My associates couldn’t but agree
So we turned you into a project
Like I would for a degree

But the project failed
The image in my head fizzled out
Even my associates bailed
It was time to end the project
Or was there still any prospect?

I read the files again
There was one paper that was never analyzed
The one where you proclaimed your love for me
Just as I am
I had missed that, while trying to fix you

Once upon a time I was Olivia Pope
I have closed shop
I was too busy trying to fix you, I forgot to love you
I can’t fix you
But I’ll love you, just as you are

And when my love is not enough,
I’ll still love you, but away from you.

My Date With Peter, The Grieving Handsome Man…

You may remember the story of Peter whose fine face succeeded in confusing me. If you missed the story, click here

After talking on the phone for some days, Peter insisted we had to meet since he was returning to London. He didn’t take much time off work according to him, so I picked a day. Unfortunately, I got a call to be on the mainland so I had to cancel. I called Peter to let him know this and he sounded like he understood but I knew he was disappointed.

Some hours later while I was having my meeting, Peter texted me to know how the meeting was going and where the meeting was holding, I told him the name of the hotel in GRA then turned over my phone as I didn’t want any distractions.




On my way home, Peter called me, “Hey I’m in Ikeja GRA, where are you? You’re not reading your messages”
“Oh wow. You didn’t tell me you were coming here, I’m already on my way back to the Island” I said regrettably
“Turn back” He insisted
Okay… we’re bossy, aren’t we? I turned back as I wasn’t far away at all

Seeing Peter for the first time since the last time was weird. He was even finer because he had shaved and had taken his time to dress up.

Oluwa oooo, let me just keep shut and not say much because I don’t want a repeat of last time. Should we hug or shake? I hate side hugs so I stretched out my hand to shake him. He looked at me weird but took my hand anyway.




“Okay, guess we’re shaking hands now,” he said and turned to see my reaction
I smiled and kept mute. I will only speak when the Holy Spirit gives me a go ahead. Not today devil!

As we were being led to our seats, he put his hand on my lower back, I almost jumped and screamed “Uncle stop touching” but I behaved like a lady should and ignored the fire burning behind me. I noticed he glanced at me often so after we were seated, I asked him “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I am” His voice wasn’t as excited as it was on the phone “I’m just wondering…you seem cold. Did I say or do something to upset you?”

Holy Spirit, can I talk now?

“No. You haven’t done anything wrong. I just don’t want to say something foolish like I said the first time we met”




“What did you say?” He asked, looking genuinely confused

Huh? He didn’t hear me. Have I been suffering in silence for nothing?

“Nothing. Don’t worry” I was in a better mood now. I sat up straighter and was ready to enjoy myself. Then…

“Okay then, Same to you,” Peter said and took a sip of water, looking at me through his drinking glass as his eyes twinkled wickedly, I noticed he was trying hard not to laugh but he couldn’t help himself and ended up laughing so hard he had to hold his chest




What was I doing while he laughed at me? It took me a few seconds to get it, but when I did, I laughed too. Maybe not as hard but his laughter was contagious and very sexy.

The ice was broken so I relaxed and enjoyed my date.

He is a gentleman and very funny too. He lives in ‘the abroad’ though but all through our date, there was no pressure on both sides to discuss what that means. We just had fun and made good memories.

We have stayed in touch but…

Royal hibiscus hotel

Movie Review: The Royal Hibiscus Hotel

The Royal Hibiscus Hotel is a Romantic Comedy Written and directed by Ishaya Bako. The movie features Zainab Balogun, Rachel Oniga, Jide Kosoko, Kemi Lala Akindoju, Ini Dima Okojie, Joke Silva, Olu Jacobs and OC Ukeje.

The Royal Hibiscus Hotel is based in a small town and tells the story of a run-down hotel owned by an old couple, Segun (Jide Kosoko) ad Rose (Rachel Oniga). Their daughter, Ope (Zainab Balogun) is frustrated with her chef job in London and decides to travel to Lagos to test the waters. Of course, her parents are elated to have her back albeit for different reasons. Ope has big plans for the old hotel while her father has other plans.

Deji (Kenneth Okolie), a businessman who falls in love with Ope and does everything to woo her with the approval of her parents. However, he is hiding a secret which Ope later finds out and causes serious complications for both of them.




The film continues as Ope finds a way to deal with The secret from her boyfriend and her parents. Then, a subtle but sweet ending caps the story.

OC Ukeje’s role was absolutely unnecessary. He appeared, disappeared and we forgot about him. The story could have happened without him.

Rachel Oniga and Jide Kosoke brought the funny and their experience showed through. However, for a movie that’s supposed to be romantically funny, there were very few laughs in the screen room.

Zainab Balogun’s portrayal of betrayal and vulnerability was top notch. She’s a good actress, I hope though, that the habit of repeated mannerisms in all her roles will be pointed out to her and curbed. Ope and Deji oozed chemistry and they were a nice pair to watch.




Location: The movie was shot in a small town in Nigeria and in London. However, we saw large views of Eko Hotels and the Lekki Ikoyi link bridge. I mean..give the viewers some credit that we can put 1 and 2 together.

I feel the script was rushed and not properly thought through. The reason Ope and Deji got back together in the final scene was as unrealistic as you can imagine. It could have turned out better if the storytellers stretched their imaginations a little bit more.

I am a romantic but I’m over romantic movies that still look like Mills and Boons. Ridiculous reasons for fighting and more ridiculous conditions for getting back together. If you’re a hopeless romantic, you’ll like The Royal Hibiscus Hotel.

#TBT Flying Solo: My First Solo Trip Abroad

#TBT Flying Solo: My First Solo Trip Abroad

#TBT Flying Solo: My First Solo Trip Abroad

My first solo trip was to London, United Kingdom. This was my second trip ever on an aircraft.

One of my closest friends lived in London at the time with her sister’s family, it came to me naturally that I stayed with her.

My friend’s sister is still one of the nicest and most welcoming people I know and her husband was funny and interesting to talk to. I didn’t have a curfew but I was quite mindful of what time I got back home so on this trip, I couldn’t explore London, meet strangers and make friends as I normally would like. So most of the time, I was just shopping and taking pictures




On one of those shopping days, while my friend and I waited by an elevator to take us to another floor of the shopping mall, I saw two kids, standing not too far away from us. They couldn’t have been older than 14 or 15. They were trying really hard to swallow each other up with the way they kissed and touched with abandon. I was quite surprised so I intentionally stared at the girl (she was the one standing on my side), hoping she’d get embarrassed and stop. Instead, she nudged her boyfriend and drew his attention towards me. The boy removed his hand from inside her top and walked towards me

“wha’? wha’? Wha you looking at? Wha’ you looking at me like that for? huh? wha’?” The young lad said on his way to me, his gait like he had a stroke on one side even though he was just trying to walk cool




Ahn Ahn! Does this one want to be unfortunate? What was he planning to do, walking towards me like that? I looked at the tiny rat and stood my ground, waiting for him to get to me but my friend quickly pulled me into the elevator.

My friend told me to mind my business next time, that this was a regular occurrence and I would soon get used to it.

She was right, I saw more of that and learned to look away.

Next #TBT Flying Solo: My solo Trip to Amsterdam, The Netherlands

Image in My Head: A Mother With Down Syndrome, Scared Her Daughter Would Be Taken Away

Image in My Head: A Mother With Down Syndrome, Scared Her Daughter Would Be Taken Away

Yesterday evening I was at the Ajah market to meet a couple of people. Standing outside a salon in the midst of some men getting the information I wanted, I felt someone tug at my sweatpants and I quickly held on to the waist because it seemed like it was the person’s job to pull it off me. I looked down, saw a little girl whose nose looked like it had never been cleaned while her face and hair were smeared with dirt. My heart immediately went out to her. I thought she was cute even with all that dirt. Before I could speak to her or she could say anything to me, one of the boys I was talking to shooed her away.

I watched her cross the street, her tiny bare feet stomping the ground as she crossed to the other side of the road. She stopped by another shop and held on to a man’s feet. The owner of the store also chased her away but I saw that the man whose leg she held on to gave her some money. She took to her heels again, bare feet picking up speed, then she turned a corner and she was gone.

I felt bad, I should have given her some money just like that other man. As I continued to chat with the boys, I couldn’t get the little girl out of my mind so I asked one of them “That small girl that came to beg just now, where is her mother?”

“Her mother dey that side,” One of the boys answered me as he pointed at the corner where the little girl had escaped into “but the woman no too get sense”

“Sense how? Does she have a shop here?” I asked, curious now

“No oh. When she dey here, she dey sweep front of our shop before everybody resume so we go give am small money. She no dey okay like sha”

“Take me to her, please,” I asked the young man who had been responding to my questions

In a very short while, we had rounded the corner and I immediately saw the little girl; seated on the floor, wide-eyed, squeezing water from a half-empty pure water sachet into her mouth. She was not alone, there was a woman seated on a white plastic chair beside her, backing me.

As soon as the girl saw me, I waved at her and she quickly ran to me, holding on to my legs, tilted her head a little so her big eyes could look at me then she stretched out her hands, palm open. I took her had and walked up to the mother.

“Hello ma,” I said as I tapped her shoulder. The woman turned around in her chair and I could see immediately why the boys said she didn’t have ‘sense’…she was a woman with Down Syndrome. I didn’t know what I was expecting but I was taken aback.

Still holding on to the little girl’s hand, I greeted the lady. “Good evening madam. I saw your daughter on the street and I thought I should say hello to her before I go” This lady looked at me, looked down at her daughter and in a sudden movement, stood and grabbed the girl from around my feet and started screaming at me. Her words were slurred but I could hear her asking me to stay away from her daughter. I looked at the young man who escorted me and he just shrugged and said “I tell you na”

What I saw wasn’t a crazy woman, I saw a scared woman, a woman who held on tight to her daughter and still looked helpless. She was warning me and begging me at the same time, crying. I tried to calm her down “It’s okay, I just want to say hello to your daughter, it’s okay…” I said in a low voice, tears filling my eyes. I was so sad and confused. I was also curious. I looked around, no one cared, everyone went about their business.

Still holding on to the girl, the woman grabbed her bag, turned the little girl around so she could balance on her back, held on to her feet. Still asking me to stay away, teary eyes looking straight into mine, daring me… she rushed past me

So I stood there, motionless, watched her limp away, flag down a bike and pfft, she was gone.

I asked around, no one knew her story, they just knew she would disappear and reappear in her own time, always with her daughter.

I sat in my car for a long time, the tears I had held back, now flowing freely. That woman’s panic expression would not leave my head. Even in her state, she protected her daughter. But what if I could overpower her? What happens, when someone really wants to take that girl from her, and all she has are her eyes, begging for the world not to take that one companion away?

What happens then?

A Grieving Handsome Man, My Chipped Nail and An Awkward Moment

An Ex-colleague lost his mum so I went to visit him yesterday.

When I got to his house – It was a big house and an even bigger compound- there was a small crowd seated all over. I didn’t know who to approach as there was no familiar face. However, my radar zoned in on a fine boy who seemed to be familiar with almost everyone. I smiled at him. He smiled back and quickly walked towards me.

“Hey you, long time. You came” Fine boy said as he pulled me close for a hug

Okay…I never forget fine boys so I was so sure we hadn’t met but to avoid embarrassment, I hugged him back and asked where I could find Nonso, my colleague (Not the real name but close). Instead of directing me to where I would find him, fine boy held me by the hand and took me past a large living room, a smaller one and a slightly long corridor then opened one of the doors that lined the hallway. He led me into the room where I saw Nonso, seated on the floor surrounded by guests, some of whom I knew.




I quickly released my hand and sat beside Nonso, gave him a hug and said a quick prayer with him. Then, I exchanged pleasantries with everyone else. Looking up, I noticed the fine boy was still in the room, staring at me. I looked away from him and whispered to Nonso “Abeg who be that fine boy wey bring me here?”

Nonso chuckled, “My brother na, Peter (Not real name). You can’t remember you’ve met him once or twice?”

I shook my head. “Was he fine like this then?” I asked Nonso and heard him laugh as I turned around again only to find that Peter was still there but this time, seated on the bed, resting his back on the wall, still looking at me.

Nonso drew my attention back to him. “Ahn ahn. He was the one who picked us up from the airport that time we went for a conference in London” Nonso looked at my face like he was trying to hypnotize me into remembering. I really had no recollection of Peter, even though I remember a family member of Nonso picked us up at the Heathrow Airport in 2010.




I shook my head and changed the topic.

Almost everyone decided to leave at the same time so Nonso saw them off. It was just I, Peter and an older lady in the room. Peter dragged himself off the bed and took Nonso’s position on the floor.

“I have a feeling you don’t remember me” Peter whispered in my ear.

He was too close, so I shifted a little and apologised. “I’m sorry”

He took my left palm “It’s okay, guess you were distracted. I’ve never forgotten about you sha. I ask after you all the time from Nonso” He whispered again, still close to my ear even after I had created some distance.




First of all, why sit close to me? Secondly, breathing was getting harder. I quickly snatched my hand and stood. It’s time to go. Never trust a grieving man who has time to flirt. Also, one of my nails was chipped. That was the finger he decided to play with as he held my hand. Was he indirectly telling me to go polish my nails or what? Ain’t nobody got time for nail shaming fine men.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said as I got up. I couldn’t hear myself, his sexy voice was still swirling somewhere in there.

“Please, can I get your number from Nonso?” I noticed he had gotten up too and was following me.

“Where is Nonso? I need a saviour” Were my thoughts.

When we got to my car, I didn’t wait around to look for my colleague, I just jumped into the car, ready to go. He asked me again “Please I would like your number, can I get it from Nonso?”




“Yes you can,” I said

“Okay then. Thank you for coming”

“Same to you,” I said

It was at this time, I knew Peter was sent by the Devil to confuse me. I’m a confident woman dammit!!!

Same to you? CHAI!!!

The Secret Lives of Baba Segi’s Wives

Book Review: The Secret Lives of Baba Segi’s Wives by Lola Shoneyin

Book Review: The Secret Lives of Baba Segi’s Wives

When I finished reading this book, I was unsettled and sober. I kept turning the pages but was met with a blank slate. What started as a funny story ended in tragedy, discovery, and triumph. Triumph that I could not celebrate because of the thick cloud of melancholy that enveloped me.

The secret lives of Baba Segi’s wives is a novel written by Lola Shoneyin.

I appreciate the vivid descriptions of the characters and location. I could see the characters in my head. The roads, shops, hospitals and the rest of the location were so vividly described, I could draw it if I was artistically gifted. When a writer can make you see pictures from words, she has hit a home run.




The Secret Lives of Baba Segi’s Wives centers around Baba Segi and his four wives. Baba Segi is a typical African Man whose pride enormously lays in his ability to bear sons, marry wives and take care of his home. Baba Segi is a filthy man but in all of his filth, he is a man full of love for his wives and his deep happiness lies in the existence of his kids. Baba Segi was a content man

How do you reconcile this man, with a man who found out he has been entangled in a web of lies and secrets? Every bad thing you can imagine happened around Baba Segi: Rape, Sex, Betrayal, lust, violence, feigned innocence and revenge. He walked around amongst everyone he trusted like he ruled them all. But, he was a prey who thought himself the hunter.

If you have read The Secret Lives of Baba Segi’s Wives you may be moved to see Bolanle, Baba Segi’s last wife as the victim. But Baba Segi is the real victim here. Victim of tradition, poverty, love, of an innocent heart and of polygamy.




If you don’t learn anything from this book, you must learn to listen to silence, actions and to never believe your own hype. You must learn kindness, you must understand that rape is not your fault. For this reason, you must learn to grow some balls as a woman and face your past tragedies and deal, instead of letting them define you. You must learn that even when you have let your past define you, you can turn things around and take the world on, like a victor that you truly are.

Knowing Baba Segi, I wasn’t surprised by how the book ended. He is a man that bares all so he is easily predictable.

This is a hilarious read but I must warn you, that is a cushion for the revelations to come.

You must read it.