I was chatting with a very dear friend about being in Benin-city and living here instead of that congested Lagos and I told him about working here for a while before sneaking out at dawn back to Lagos to another job. As I recounted the experience to Odogwu, I realized how much I had forgotten about the turbulence of that time. Continue reading →
I’ve been in Benin-city for less than six hours and I’ve already heard the most outrageous (true) stories, laughed until my stomach clenched in protest and howled from every spectra of emotion from the things I’ve seen and heard.
I could write an essay, several actually; on what this city means to me. How the differing landscapes are as familiar as my name, or my ears receiving the flavour of Pidgin English makes my heart crackle and pop and how it is the language I’m most comfortable with, even though I first heard it after my seventeenth birthday. Perhaps it is the abundance of plantain and how you can get masses of it at prices that would shoot guilt daggers in you, or my favourite people calling this city home- especially that five year old girl who makes me believe in soul mates and past lives.
Maybe it’s the ease of conversation here, and the music with the words I don’t understand even if I twirl the rhythm around my fingers, as my mind uproots stories I am too lazy to sit in front of a computer and strike the keys that unlock the magic.
I should write “I love Benin-city”, but that is not wholly true; each time I scoop from the cauldron, the emotions are never the same. I’ll just write the truest thing- this town is where all my parts collide, where I am most capable of being me.
How e come be say na you dey control my mumu button like how Okocha dey gum ball to im boot as twenty defenders dey chase am? You wey no even fine like that sef, with your k-leg and opolo eye and you no even dey try draw your eyebrow like your mates them. No be say na the better cloth you dey wear or long hair wey you kukuma get. No be say you no get your good points sha but I dey suspect say jazz dey involved for this matter. Continue reading →
I began a fiction series in May that I intended to run weekly on Fridays, sadly I wasn’t consistent at it. However I have finally finished it and I’m putting it up today. Because I’m such a fabulous person, I’m putting everything here in one post. There’s no need to jump here and there to refresh your memory of the story or get acquainted with the story.
In the early 1990’s a certain TV show was airing on NTA, it was titled Third Eye. My parents tell me it was about a young girl who helped her father solve cases, he was a police officer or something. Olu Jacobs was the father and the only thing I remember about the series was him muttering the phrase “I wonder, I just wonder” in that voice with the rich timbre. Continue reading →
I started a series last month that was supposed to go up every Friday, it wasn’t even meant to be a series. I wanted to write a short piece for my Friday Fiction Series but the story kept getting longer and longer. I posted the first part in May and this is the second… I hope I don’t post the next one in July 😉
The saga began here====>> Friday Fiction- Gilded Throne.
Adesuwa’s niece was born on her wedding day, Itohan had run away to live with Osarodion the village hunter and occasional palm wine tapper. When Adesuwa asked her sister why she would commit such a foolish act, Itohan stared sullenly at her.
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I grew up in Nigeria, in a bustling suburb of Lagos in the 1990’s and 2000’s. It was a beautiful childhood and I spent a solid portion of it reading and watching movies- my younger brother loved them. I did not visit the US or Canada at any time, yet I was could identify many landmarks in those countries and tell you where they were located, I could list their important leaders, statesmen and heroes and I could describe pizza even down to its taste without having seen it before.
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