There is Nothing Special About My Love for Show Dem Camp.

“Tek and ghost, come, I don’t understand. The best duo since Don Jazzy and Dbanj.” Tek raps the above lines in his laidback, your guy-down-the-street-who-gets-all-the-really-cute-chicks style that is equal part elite and street relatable on the track – Flex on You (Track 10) – that also has Moelogo’s matured singing on it. It’s a Tuesday

A Plate of Good Prayers.

The burden of convincing every customer to try the roast chicken with its side of Irish potato fries, Italian sauce and boiled plantains is one you embraced with an eagerness that surprised even your boss. Made him look at you first with curiosity and then suspicion and then –  when he saw reflected in the

Diary Entry: Dreams

I had a dream last night. It was a strange and bizarre dream, like almost all my dreams are. I had traveled to the village with my family. On arriving there, I met a few members of my boss’s family (he wasn’t with them) apparently also just arriving the village. Among the entourage of my

On The Tyranny of Grief.

I “The day I lost my father was the day I realized how close we all are to being mad.” She says this with a half-smile on her face, a reminiscence of sorts playing over her features, like she is relishing this memory of her close shave with insanity. The weather outside the car is

Your Mind Is Doing What It Does

You met him on a Tuesday, in that restaurant by the secretariat, the one you hated, the one where the toothpicks were never sharp and if you sat too hard on the bench, your petite ass would greet concrete. You were there that day for a lack of choice. Your preferred spots were locked; victims

We Will Not Be Fine In The End

  I have always stubbornly imagined myself unique. In complete defiance of the uncomplimentary truth. I like to think how I perceive people and events is unlike how anyone else alive or dead does. This is what informs most of what I write. The words are crafted to tell my experiences in a way that

Those Crushes Who Stay Restless

The air conditioning in this place is perfect – it is not too much as to make you freeze. The music that is playing is perfect – it is 70s Fela. Your father is a Fela fanatic and you are a Fela fanatic and if they are playing Fela in this place, it means that

Trip Vibes

It must not be that hard to tell a young girl sitting beside you on a bus trip to shift. If she is sleeping and snoring and resting her weavoned head languidly on your shoulders, you should be able to tap her awake and tell her to move her body from yours. You shouldn’t be

Okoye’s Red Eyes

As we march along Upper Iweka road, we can see people hurriedly locking their shops, rushing into their homes, and turning to peek at us through window slats. We have never been this angry before. Of course our job is generally to be pissed off in as much unreasonability as we can muster but this

Heartbreaks At Christmas

The buying of Christmas clothes in my home was a spiritual exercise. And I mean this in the most literal way possible. It was serious. It was sacred. It was a culture steeped in the mathematical efficiency of a soldier’s barracks routine. On those allotted nights, me and my brothers assembled in my parents’ room,