I dey suffer add meaning my lyf

I remember that night in lagos when you took me to alpha beach right behind your crib, we parked outside the entrance and you went to talk to the lone security man that peered at us with suspicion. You had to pay him some money so we could get in. He opened the gate and we slipped through, into the darkness. You took off your clothes and looked at me to do the same. I was scared at first. What if someone sees? What if he comes checking on us?. You reassured me and still, I hesitated. I was naked underneath my dress except for my panties. I took it off though. I held my breasts in my hands and walked into the water. You didn’t know how to swim so you were scared I was going in too deep. I assured you I was in my element. Perhaps too much in it, because I got very silent into my own world away from the intimacy you were trying to bridge between us. The ocean was warm. The black shoal would suddenly deepen, sand slipping beneath our feet sinking us further into the water at unexpected moments. I kept gazing around us, wondering if there was anyone in the darkness, you held my hands for some moments, trying to pull me in as the water did with us. I loosened my hands and then we started to run. We ran for the freedom of it. It was so surreal. I was scared o, yet I prayed, I prayed in gratitude I prayed in earnest. At one point you went off to check on our clothes and I was alone. It felt like you was gone forever and when you came back, your shadow form emerging from the abyss, i realized your peculiarity and i appreciated it then. I could see you for your spirit, especially in your stature, the way you stood before me trying to decipher me. I could feel it was an offering, you daring to embrace your own water spirit, I knew the intimacy you craved, how that moment could’ve bound us together, but It was the waters touch I craved, your every attempt at shortening the distance between us, I went further into the water, I was ready to swim, to really dash in and lose myself, I wanted to be carried away, I wanted to see the unseen, and when you noticed me drifting, my body turned away from yours, my heart far gone con el mar, you became somber and said “let’s go”. You later asked me as we got in the car why I seemed so serious, I assured you that it was beautyful, but you see, Mmiri get power, serious serious power, she possesses my tongue with prayer and I feel open to all the world, all the grief all the feeling all the intensity — she demands my full attention and I’ve learnt enough to know better, the moment didn’t call for laughter it didn’t call for sex either

the Atlantic Ocean gives me lyf

The amount of undocumented arrests—just people in jails all around the world, marked missing or presumed dead by their families, or worse, unnoticed by their communities—is really, really... I honestly don't know what word to use. Devastating is a start

Nigerian society is such a slave society, the way people treat workers ‘beneath’ them is fucking tragic. Then they now have the audacity to be complaining that most domestic workers are lazy, reluctant and rude, when it’s a cause and reaction of this nonsensical exploitative work culture we have enabled. The worse thing is, due to this opinion they treat them with even more contempt. Nigerians will complain about Nigerians, I mean look at me rn, but damn damn damn! It is a very very wicked society

seems I can volunteer at the hospital to carry motherless babies and ugh my heart my heart my heartttt

My art blew up once that BLM and Covid combo hit, all types of white ppl was hitting me up about my art and suddenly featuring me on “Black artists you should follow” ahh posts 😹😹 performative ass mfs. Even back then my former tumblr that was rooted in Black aesthetics n cultural research n archiving suddenly had so much motion, I think dis one was attributed to a bunch of people joining /rejoining tumblr, it was such a wave of ppl suddenly concerned with Blackness,, it was necessary for the ppl I guess, cuz they were primarily black buh still, I wonder if none of that woulda happened, especially in Europe, so many coons wouldn’t be performing blackness for the social value… which doesn’t sound so bad… hmmm

Perhaps I was a fool/naive not to realise how temporary that BLM (COVID era) shift in the art world was. Especially here in Europe, I'm starting to realise that I'm not just experiencing the effects of the systematic defunding of the arts sector and the humanities in education, but also how my Blackness/Africanness is no longer a priority or a “hot topic.” It’s dwindling, and all these institutions seem to be going back to their usual programming now. Smh.

dis month feels so ripe with blessings and miracles, it’s alrdy one for the books wallahi, my wings is spread - Chineke Daalu

back in high school I knew dis yt girl named Harmony, she had dyed hair and a septum piercing, me n her connected on the premise of art, she was also one of the few that wasn’t racist towards me,,, but I digress, I remember askin her one time what she wanted to do/be in future n she said: I wanna travel. I remember feeling so flabbergasted like wtf do u mean travel? I was like how? With what money? And she told me she didn’t give a fuck if she had to work at McDonald’s, she would do whatever just to travel. Atp, we was teenagers n she had alrdy been on a family trip to Thailand and was on a whole thing abt Asia n jus seeing the world. My African mind couldn’t comprehend it, I swr. I didn’t understand how she didn’t wanna be a doctor, lawyer, ceo or any of the other professions I grew up aspiring towards. Now, as I’ve grown n unlearnt plenty, I think of her ever so often whenever I realize just how much I wanna travel n nothing else, moving with the wind gives me purpose, it makes me feel alive n I’m super super grateful to alrdy be able to do so, I’m grateful to be a child of these circumstances, of parents who wanted to see the world n weren’t scared of it