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 →


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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