BWL2016

My first sleep over!

I was 12.

Mom said I could go sleep over at Osato’s house.

Osato was the first child I met when I walked into the gates of Federal Government Girl’s College, Zaria. Her mother was unpacking several suitcases from the trunk of a mini-van. Osato stood by herside. From behind, I could see her cheeks! My God. They were fat. I felt like I could slice layers off it and still not…

A community outreach.

That is where Justice and I met. The first thing I noticed about him obviously was his name. ‘Who the fuck names his or her child Justice?’ I imagined as said his name in a rush, as though he was saying it with some form of resentment against his parents too.

It was a long 60 seater coaster bus and I got tired of wringing my neck in an attempt to see each person who…

Should I give them? Can they take it?

So I have seen the phrase ‘if I don’t give them, how will they take it?,’ used on social media very often recently.   I love love love the phrase and honestly I have been seeking an opportunity to use it too. Unfortunately, I am rarely in a state where I think one can use that phrase. You know, the people (mainly girls – actually I have only seen girls use this phrase) who usually use it when…

5 THINGS TO KNOW ABOUT THE NIGERIAN LAW SCHOOL (BAR PART 1)

If you intend to practice as a lawyer in Nigeria, you must go through the Nigerian Law School (NLS). If you have attained an undergraduate degree in a foreign university, then you must submit yourself to Bar 1.  This is a 3 month period during which you will be schooled on the fundamentals of the Nigerian Legal System. After you have passed Bar 1, you will proceed to Bar 2 where you will join the…

Just like my mother…

There is an (igbo) adage that says ‘if you want to know what a young lady would look like or behave like in old age,  look at her mother’.

I mean this proverb is taken so seriously that it isn’t unusual to hear someone say ‘oh she must be a nice girl.  She comes from a nice family,  her mother is this that that… ‘. This phrase is especially peddled around in marriage conversations and talks. …

For the Love of the Profession

The fires in our eyes once shone brilliantly. Burning with merciless vigour; Ravenously, eating up everything standing in its path. We barely slept because the heat of the fire Made sleep uncomfortable, impossible. We barely slept because we feared that while unconscious The fire might consume us too, innards then flesh.

We looked with arrogant pity at those gone before, 10, 20, 30 years post-call,

Blurred Lines

‘Oya Oya, Dami… Gist me’ ‘Is that the new way to say hello?’ ‘Dami, don’t play with me like that’ ‘Nigerian men have a problem’ I reply, nudging the phone between my shoulder and my ears,while unhooking my bra,  taking off my jewellery, wiping my makeup, washing my hands.  My daily ritual once inside my room. ‘Nne, you are hot. That is their problem’ Amaka replies, excitement bubbling from her…

Maybe one day the sun would finally decide to take its job seriously, and outshine your smile But till then, I will bask in impossibly magnificent brilliance of what happens when your lips part into a smile.           For you, Elo

Of Catcalls and Fragile Egos…

I am walking down a street, It is dark, fruitlessly  lit by dim yellow street lights I am wearing my sports clothes They are wet and clinging to my body I am uncomfortable; because they show contours of my body I am trying to modify in the gym I walk past you, you are standing tall with someone else beside you right in the middle of a narrow road with cars double parking all the way down the…

May we find friends who are hard enough to break our shells when we put up walls in the hard times… May we find friends that carry with them, brightly burning candles to bring warmth and light into our hearts when the blinds are drawn… May we find friends that hold on steadfastly unto our hands and hearts when grief threatens to make us slip away… May we find friends that slap us across the face…

When you ask me ‘how are you? ‘ Is it okay for me to tell you that I am doing poorly; that my heart is broken and I do not know a way of piecing it back together? Is it okay to tell you that my legs are sore from running round in circles around the purpose of my life? Is it okay to tell you that I want more, more out of life, more out of where I am? Is it okay to tell you that I am hungry for…

You See Me….

You See Me, Walking with both eyes shut ‘How stupid of you!’ you shout ‘Don’t you know you could die? ‘ ‘You could be hit by a moving vehicle, fall into a ditch.. ‘ I tell you that my other senses are heightened when I walk without my sight ‘How stupid are you!’ You declare Last night, I walked by you, With a flourescent lamp at my feet And both eyes wide open But… You didn’t See Me, because your…

Shifting Perspectives: Should how I dress to church matter?

I think it is important that I start off this post noting that I am a very carefree person where my appearance is concerned. Having grown up with a father who makes me believe I am absolutely better than gold and diamond mixed together, a father who would look at my acne covered face and tell me that God only gives acne to beautiful girls because he knows they can handle it, I have grown up not…

‘Falling’ in Love

I didn’t fall in love with you I suppose that phrase is an understatement I didn’t fall in love with you I somersaulted into love with you Flipping in the air Carefree With abandon Like little children do When playing in the rain I didn’t fall in love with you I somersaulted into love with you And without much practice I landed – not on my feet as the experts do- But hip first and bottom next…

Everyone makes mistakes Everyone. Everyone says one word too much Everyone take one action too far Everyone breaks a heart….often intentionally Everyone I have made mistakes too I have hurt myself I have hurt over words I have spoken to myself one too many times I have hurt myself over actions I promised myself I would never repeat… but I find myself doing regardless I hurt over the people I let…

‘Get over yourself! You are not even your husband’s first love!’

photo credit: http://iraklitsuladze.com/portfolio/first-love-batumi-georgia/ I attended a friend’s birthday dinner earlier in the year. This was one of those dinners where there were more ladies than the guys and where there was one enthusiastic married person who took the liberty to match make the few available guys with the single girls. Before Mr. B arrived, I was having the time of my life.…

1st of January. I walked carelessly down the market aisle, holding a shopping bag, trailing my mother’s footsteps as she haggles with one trader to another. ‘Madam, you no go sell N400?’ my mother asks one foot set away from the woman’s stall ‘Ah ah! Na N450 last!’ She retorts, shaking her head incredulously at my mother’s audacity to drag N50 with her My mother walks away and I follow her…