It’s Her Year.

She had always liked him. Well, at least from the first time she remembered him. At the time she was in primary school, she would see him on her way to school with her big sister and little brothers while he was wearing white shorts on a white shirt and heading to secondary school from Monday to Friday. Continue reading →

Being His Spec

Earlier today, I saw a thread on Twitter about being your spec’s spec. Then an extremely hilarious post by Victor Daniel about breaking up with a person who has a great looking ex, brought back two sets of memories. The first was about a man, an old friend and the second is about my little cousins. Continue reading →

Not by power: Not by might.

There were several scenarios Sebastian Okonkwo had figured would play out in his life when he was forty, he expected several cars in his garage, a house in the city and a bigger, fancier one in Obizi. He had expected to have travelled to several countries and to be able to wear a suit without feeling awkward. There was a time he had been foolish and thought he would be married to a beautiful Mexican woman with her long hair brushing her buttocks when she moved, but he mentioned it to his mother once and the memory of the knock she landed on his head just before saying tufiakwa was still strong in his head, that incident knocked out the silly fantasy. Continue reading →

Ngozi…

My father has an ‘unusual’ middle name, it’s fairly common but unusual still. A few weeks ago, I stumbled on a post that referenced the name – maybe it’s Tsar’s post actually. Anyway, he made a quip about the name on the post and I threatened to report him to the bearer of the name, but something nagged at me.

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BackStory Motivation

 

A few days ago, I shared a video from someone’s wall on Facebook. The video was a very popular advert for the telecommunication network MTN Nigeria and it was centered on the new phenomenon called porting which allowed you to change networks while retaining your number. Continue reading →

Somebody’s baby…

Once upon a time, a woman gave birth to a beautiful baby boy after an arduous and perilous labour. He was the most beautiful baby in the world, his eyes were huge and he had the softest, curliest, black hair his sister and his brother had ever seen. The baby belonged to them alone, ‘have you seen my baby’ they said to visitors who came to see the new baby and the mother. They disregarded the father and mother, two sets of grandparents and a great-grandmother who also owned the baby.

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