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Ado Awaye: The quiet town and mountains sitting pretty

If you’re thinking of the next place to tour in Nigeria, get in here, you might just be in luck.

The town of Ado Awaye is fascinating for not only its tourist sites but also its historical mythologies.

This review will help enlighten and prepare you for the trip to Ado Awaye with Lagos as the take-off location. This means your interpretation of logistics for this trip should be measured based on your current location.





Preparation When preparing to tour the town of Ado Awaye, these are a few things to take note of:

1. What to take
Because you’re touring, it is important to travel as light as possible. This means while packing, you should go for only essentials. Try assessing each item you intend to pack with these two questions: ‘Do I really need this?’ and, ‘Do I have another item serving the same purpose this said item offers?’.
Usually, 80 percent of the time, if you find yourself pondering over the above-italicized questions, the item in question will usually not be important.

On …

I'm a Buffer Girl pour l'Amour 2

Americanah
I don’t care for any other person’s opinion on Americanah, but for me, true love was one of the predominant themes. A theme I hoped, begged, the universe to grant me.
The novel’s heroine, Ifemelu would begin a very deep, very intriguing affaire with her beau Obi from Secondary School.
They’d go on dating through a few years in University before Ifemelu would leave for the U.S. to get her first higher degree.
As much as I have never researched this, I strongly believed Chimamanda was mirroring a part of her own life’s story in Americanah.




First, Adichie had taken one or two years of Pharmacy at the University of Nigeria, Nsukka before leaving for the US to get a first degree and then subsequent degrees.
This keen theory of mine I’d feed and, convince myself was true and then hope and pray for a tailored pattern of romance for myself.
This tailoring of another’s narrative is like the way Nigerian females meet a trusted seamstress with a particular picture of design they’d wan…

I'm a Buffer Girl pour l'Amour

I’ve always known true love exists; always and convincingly known. 

need balance

there's some beauty in darkness:
something interesting about
the way the air would heavily light
an irony of perfect juxtaposition. there's some beauty in ugly:
something intriguing about the
huge grotesque scars that
seem to never want to go away. there's some beauty in evil:
un peu de la purité in
the heart of a condemned man,
an innocence buried beneath a blanket of
bottled up emotions. these little beauties we
choose to neglect
aren't they the very things that
make living bearable? who would be good without the existence
of evil?
who would be beautiful without ugliness?
or what story could ever be told without scars? need beauty and ugliness,
need scars and healing oils,
need good and evil,
need all the balance to remain
steady and sane in this
crazy crazy world. need balance:
then imbalance to
balance the human equation
now and again.

TRANCE

my eyes are
intelligent,
brilliant: a firework of events.
my thoughts are
limited,
weakened; how come it took
this long to realize?
my screams are
silent,
crippled: hence the irony,
suiting this madness.
my heart is
bound,
consumed: inclined to a seul,
the imperfect affair.
my life was
easy,
still is: when will it fully blossom?
some lies are
unharmful,
a sign: love's very true own
protection.
my eyes are
not for seeing,
but feeling,
all these other lives
i dare not intrude
or touch,
for the better part of
this dreadful
trance.
g.o.

The City That You Were

i was Jos
and
he was Lagos. i was the quiet streets of Rock Haven:
the houses separated by the heavy silence
of unanswered 'hellos' from neighbours.
the absolute conservation of shades the trees
cast here- was totally me. he. he was the busy streets of Obalende:
the unrepentant conductors yelling,
'Yaba! CMS! Yaba! Yaba!
the circular circulation of human sweat waving
through the air like Oxygen.
neglecting the weaknesses of island Ajebutters and JJC pedestrians. at night i was the city of J-Town after 8pm.
quiet. eerily so.
soldiers securing fences of the selected few.
smoking stuff and drinking liquor,
with AK-forty-somethings to bring down any rebel who dared to equal. he was the busy streets of Lasgidi at night:
the traffic, in French translated to, "la circulation"
right up from Admitalty Way through the Toll gates.
Cars honking, drivers cursing, almost excitedly at each other.
LASTMA officials obeying the call to rip-off 'rich' drivers. …

How to not find a Husband in Nigeria

''A woman who is not successful in her own marriage has no advice to give her younger generations.''

-Nigerian Proverb



See ehn I could probably write an entire book on growing up in Nigeria and I bet it’d win an Oscar.
The only problem is that I fear my Nigerian story wouldn’t cut it to global recognition and only movies win Oscars.
I’ll share with you all this very sef-discovered and first-hand recount of growing up in Nigeria- a female. Besides the one year I lived in Lome Togo, I have not been to any other country outside Nigeria. So I beg to be excused if my references to the Western world is off point.

I have all of the Hollywood and Bollywood movies to blame for that.

Being a Nigerian Female
Age 0-13
When a Nigerian female is born, before the elapse of the Millennial era, there was probably a 10% chance your parents wanted a son. And while there might have been a bit of err ‘disappointment’ for a while, they eventually got over it. This age range for most is the t…

This is not a Drill

i want to be stuck in an 80's song with you:
in a different space,  a different time. 
i want the days we've known to rewind
back to the very first day i saw you.

it was 1986,
a brilliant November afternoon.
our city was crawling fresh with the pest of peoples.  and from a Navy Blue Peugeot 504,  you stepped out.  all manly:  6-feet something something inch of you.  you had your shirt buttoned down,  buttoning up the delicious huskiness of your voice until you spoke half a minute later. 


i want to be stuck in an 80's song with you: somewhere far away from cellphones,
the internet and side-chicks.

the exclusive breath-taking love of the 80's,
i want that with you.

letter-writing and ditto-salutations,
loving and meeting up under trees,  Afrobeats and Fela,  the sweet melting of Jazz music in our ears. guaranteed,  you will not regret it. 
only if you come away with me and let me let you love me letting you love me till i let you get hooked. 
until i let you go,  going beyond your wildes…

The Nigerian Millennial Mother's Conference of 1989

If you are an African millennial born in Africa or the Diaspora, there’s a 70% chance you must have gone through a dramatic childhood.
And that is not because, as some parenting books would say, you were exhibiting toddler behavior, but because of your parents, most especially, your mum.


Besides personal experiences with one’s African mum, there seemed to be one ultimate truth: every mum had a similar line for executing discipline (in any situation) and upbringing generally. In recent times, millennials have employed these in making jokes, skits, and every other popular social media statement available.

Without doubt, our mothers used the same pattern in raising us up. Just last night, a colleague and friend of mine said(in not exactly these words), ‘what if millennial mothers actually had a conference on child upbringing?’ And bing, this article was born.



I’ll not even lie, prior to the discussion with this said friend of mine(whom I’m going to be referring to as X), I’d never reall…