We go dey Alright.

I grew up in the 1990s, in the heyday of Babangida and Abacha, when Nigeria rolled over and died. Because I was a child, I was insulated from the bleakness that hung in the air. While the terms SAP, DIFRI, Ogoni 9, attempted coup, annulled elections, PTF and military junta- I loved that phrase, were words I heard on the news, they had no real meaning to me until fuel scarcity joined the mix. Continue reading →

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Igbo woman Rants.

Being Igbo in Nigeria is a burden so severe that even death does not lift it: it sinks with you to the grave and even when you reincarnate as an Australian, you can never really atone for the sin of choosing the wrong ancestry at the previous roll of the karma dice.

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Independa.

My mum says there were women who were named Independa, they were born on the first day of October 1960- the day Nigeria attained independence. 
Today is their birthday and Nigeria’s too but I’m pretty angry with the way things are here, with the silly progress we have made. 

So I wrote a poem for Nigeria, it’s my birthday message to a country I do not love anymore. 

I wonder, I just wonder.

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 →