My room is a cocoon of darkness, pierced only by the rhythmic drumming of rain against the windowpane. Outside, Lagos trembles beneath the weight of the storm, the streets slick with water, the air thick with a dampness that clings to the skin like an unwanted memory. The grating hum of my neighbor’s generator gnaws…
No one told me we lived in a ghetto. I only realized it when I visited my cousins during the holidays, first in Ejigbo, then in Iyana Iba. It was in the way they said it—half amusement, half pity—how they wrinkled their noses and called my home “Ajegunle,” with the kind of finality that needed…
Think you’ve experienced everything modern dating has to offer? Read this woman’s story about loss, rediscovery, and the absurdities of contemporary dating.
They say everything’s bigger in Texas, they didn’t lie. As I sit here writing this, a bundled human burrito, my thermostat is doing its best to convince me that 12°F (-11°C) is “cozy,” while my electricity meter keeps climbing higher. As a writer—one who calculates rent between commas—I am keenly aware of these things. Anyway,…
When the invitation landed in my inbox to contribute to the “Call Me” multi-author series—a collection of standalone novels chronicling the lives of Africans studying abroad—I felt an immediate mix of excitement and sheer terror. Why? Because I hadn’t traveled much. Therefore, writing about a place I’d never been to felt like dancing on a…
Let me tell you about the day I discovered that Americans don’t just watch the Super Bowl; they worship it. They treat it like a religious experience, complete with rituals, sacrifices (mostly of chicken wings), and enough devotion to make my mother’s Sunday service look casual. As a Nigerian living and working in America, I’ve…
When I decided to enter the world of self-publishing in 2020, like every writer, I had a burning story to tell. I had big dreams and hopes of reaching millions of readers, being selected for book clubs, and receiving deeply felt reviews—both good and bad. Now, in 2025, I still dream. Big. I dream of…
You were the first woman I talked to after my eight-year marriage ended. To be fair, there was nothing noteworthy about our meeting. My heart didn’t skip a beat, my pulse didn’t race. I only sat across from you in the crowded cafeteria. I judged your plate; thought two burgers and a load of fries…