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A Recipe For Disaster

It happened again, like it happened all the other times.

I’ve been off this space for a good number of weeks without any solid reason. I wish I could say I was busy with life, chasing the bag and all that but I’d be lying.

Procrastination is the major reason why I haven’t been consistent here. Procrastination coupled with Overthinking and Perfectionism with a sprinkle of Imposter Syndrome. There you have it, the perfect recipe for disaster.

But I didn’t stop writing, oh no, I infact started a writing challenge on WhatsApp and if you’d like to participate, kindly click on the link below and see where it leads you-

I think the problem was that I’d set a standard for my blog this year. I had a plan, a schedule, everything and my perfectionist ass kicked into the gear at the first opportunity. I had written blog posts but when the scheduled date was approaching, I’d chicken out and fail to publish it.

Week after week, that was the cycle. Sometimes I procrastinated and just missed the deadline.

That’s why I made it essential to write this post today and publish it today no matter how imperfect it is.

The overthinking part was when I started to question why I even had a blog in the first place. I’m not making any progress or achieving anything with it, so why make it a priority? I contemplated just ending the whole thing since it just seemed like a waste of time and effort.

If I’m as good as people say, then surely I should have achieved more, right? You’re supposed to get better at something when you practice and do it consistently and frankly, I wasn’t seeing any improvement in my writing. It just felt so ‘not good enough’. I felt like a fraud.

And with each week that went by, I felt guilty for just abandoning this space. I tried to come back but it just didn’t feel the same.

I don’t know if I’m back but I’m going to stop the whole scheduling thing. Life was fun when I just put up posts randomly. Now, it feels like work.

I’m afraid to watch all the work I put in these past few months just wither and die away. It seems that is already happening…

Regardless, I promise to show up at least twice a month, even when I don’t feel like it.

By the way, My blog was a year old on March 13th. So happy anniversary, I guess. 🤧

Finally, boys and girls.. don’t be like me. Discipline and consistency all that you do.

2022 Valentine’s Survival Kit For The Lonely And Miserable

Lonely and miserable seems a bit harsh, innit? Well, you know what they say about the truth being bitter🌝.

If you were here last week, Welcome back to A’s Chronicles and if you’re new here, grab your seat fast before seats finish, I mean, it’s lovely to have you here!🤩

It’s Valentine’s day again… and since You clicked on the link to this post, I’m assuming you’re single 🌝….and you might already be building your walls and setting your armour against all the
oppression that will be lunged at you from your ‘loverbird counterparts’

I feel your pain..

I really do…

And I’m here to help😁

To obtain maximum peace of mind and block all the arrows of oppression that will be fired at you in this Valentine’s period, I’m sharing with you a few tips that’ll help you scale through unscathed.

Oya, tell me thank you 💆

Here we go….

Don’t share quotes on your handles about how awesome single life is, that is just pretentious and a glaring sign of how miserable you are…

Do this instead:

Switch off all your devices, yes boys and girls…you don’t want to be besieged by photos and videos of all your friends being all lovey-dovey (Bleurggh).

Or just don’t buy data.

Flight/Airplane mode works too.

Put on the most romantic music you have in the privacy of your room and grab a mop stick for a slow dance (said mop stick must have been thoroughly washed and disinfected previously)

Your mind plays an important role in this part; hold your mopstick gbe sunmo ko ma fête and conjure up the imagination of your dream lover while you slow dance. Never underestimate the power of the mind, anything is possible if you believe. No smooching… please, have some dignity, you’re lonely not loony.

Ladies and gentlemen, throw your body goals in the mud for
that night only. Indulge in chocolate, ice-cream, candy, pastries…you name
it till you’re on a sugar high.

Or better still, go around ruining everyone else’s Valentine’s date. You’re miserable so everyone might as well be as miserable as you, right? Resume office as the Valentine’s version of The Grinch.

The most important tip is to know that: Love is overrated, Self-love ti wa okay. Abi how you see am?

And just incase you don’t want to carry last on Monday, this is for you👇👇

This Valentine’s, I’m here for you at the right price!

Just for a thousand naira only (or it’s equivalent in dollars, pounds, rupees, franc..and others), I’ll write you the most romantic message that eyes have ever seen, that will make you blush like a little girl and even give you butterflies in your stomach😉


Pay me a sum of ten thousand naira and get the loveliest and most thoughtful Valentine’s gift in the world. Pay me to surprise you️ (no one has to know 😉)

You know my email nau… send me a message, let’s talk business. Let’s make this Valentine’s one of the most memorable ones you’ll ever experience.

P.S : If none of the above options seem palatable to you, you can always cry yourself to sleep. How much is a box of tissues or two?

P.P.S: This post was compiled for entertainment and comedic purposes only, take seriously at your own risk.

They say one good turn deserves another. I’ve helped you, now it’s time for you to help me 😌. I’m requesting my Valentine’s gift in advance and I don’t ask for much, just input your email address to support this blog if you’d like to see more posts like this.

Leave a comment and share if you loved this post! (especially to all your Single Pringle friends🌝)

And remember even if nobody loves you, Jesus loves you ( here’s where I’m supposed to add ‘and I love you’ but I don’t know you 🌝)

So Bye!

Don’t leave without dropping a comment o..

With love from Adora 😘

Virginity: Pride or Pointless?

                It all started with a ’34+35′ meme and now, here we are…..

               Does a person’s sexual status determine their worth?
          Read on to find out what some Gen-Zers think concerning the issue.

P.S: None of the views/opinions stated below are mine.


         It’s a really controversial topic  and different people have different views on it most especially the older generation. The simple conclusion is everyone should just do what they can live with.

         No man has the right to
condemn a lady for not being a
virgin because you hardly find any man that married as a virgin, infact, I don’t even think they exist.
So why should they expect that ladies be virgins?

     I think it’s a personal decision. If
you decide to be a virgin till marriage, it should be because you want to, it’s a lovely decision. You shouldn’t do it because of some religious beliefs or sentiments and it shouldn’t be because someone somewhere is pressuring you to.

     If you also decide to lose your virginity, it’s not a bad thing. Everyone should do what makes them happy and what they can live with. Nobody is a saint, nobody is holy as virgin Mary. Even the ones that declare to keep themselves till marriage end up losing it faster.

      To me, it doesn’t matter if the girl is a virgin or not as long as she’s not a prostitute and she didn’t do it for money. She was with someone and had sex because of love. We all would be in that situation. We don’t know what life would throw our way, we don’t know what would happen to us tomorrow.

      I think we shouldn’t judge anyone who takes that decision or condemn any one who’s not a virgin, “people that aren’t virgins are disgusting” and the likes.

      The belief that the older generation has is so retarded, they should stop it.

    It’s a thing of choice. What is fine by you, what you can live with, do it.

   Any man that wants to respect you will respect you.

       Every woman is a Queen.    


         Respect from who exactly, please?

  If it’s virginity on both sides ( husband and wife keeping themselves for each other), then okay.

       If I were to keep my virginity, it would be as a covenant between me and God not for any stupid respect.

        It’s not impossible but anything can happen shaaa.


          In today’s world, virginity counts as nothing. People have sex everyday and they must have thought about the pride attached to it before taking that decision. So maybe females now have a new pride. Hence, virginity doesn’t serve as their pride anymore.

           I wouldn’t treat my spouse differently if she was a virgin or not. It doesn’t matter how much sex she had in the past so long as she is medically okay (no issues with the reproductive system and all), I’m good to go.

           Infact, the job will be much easier for me sef, you grab?


        It depends on the personality of the male/female involved. For me, whether you’re a virgin or not no really concern my life. I’m not a freak about getting married so I wouldn’t know how a married person would see it.

        But, I feel in this time and age that we are, you can say that well over 80% of teenagers have lost their virginity. The tradition is lost already.

        I’m not saying we should embrace teenage sex but as a guy, there’s a high chance that you’re not going to meet a virgin for a wife. So if you’re going to base  your judgement on the fact that she’s had sex with someone else before and you see that as she has lost her pride then that’s the purest form of stupidity.

        As a lady, I don’t know if you see it as your pride or not. Some ladies want to have sex with this special person while some want to experiment and see what it looks like. Some people want to do it but only if they’re dating you and they date, have sex, break up, date another and the cycle continues.

       Virginity goes both ways, if you see it as a lady’s pride then it should be a guy’s pride also. I don’t see it as a lady’s pride because I feel a lady’s pride shouldn’t be in things like virginity. I don’t know how biblically correct this is ( I never read my Bible reach that side), I feel a lady’s pride should be in her level of independence, career, financial status, emotional intelligence. Your pride should be in your achievements and the legacy you leave behind.

          Think long term. Don’t do something because of the effects it will have now but the effect it will have in the future. Focus on achieving substantial things, you’ll find that you don’t even have time to think about sex.

         Personally, I don’t endorse premarital sex  but I won’t judge a person badly based on that. I don’t agree that teens/,young adults should be having premarital sex. It’s a no-no for me although I might still try it sha, I never know. It’s not a priority.

         If you’re training a female from a young age that she has to keep her virginity, you’re focusing her worth on just one slit on top of her vagina. She doesn’t even have to have sex to break her virginity, make she just finger herself and it’s done man. Take her focus off of that and focus on more important things.

        The priority shouldn’t be virginity. Why make that a priority? It makes people curious about it.

         There’s a lot of disorder in the society and to correct that disorder, we need to ask the right questions.

         Most young people are like, “Why shouldn’t I break my virginity? What’s there?”

         The question should be, “Why should I break my virginity?”


     Virginity was the pride of a lady. These days, most guys don’t care  whether they marry a virgin or not.

        A lady should be responsible, loyal, supportive and understanding. Her past is her past, let’s enjoy the present.

        If you’re a virgin and you don’t have sense, what’s the use?

        It’s rare to see virgin ladies these days because fornication is the new norm, which is wrong in the eyes of the Lord.

         May the Lord forgive us all though.


       Respect-wise, definitely yes.

     Most people don’t like a ‘used-tissue’. But I don’t get why it should only apply to women. The world is still patriarchal. I mean, what us the point of getting married if a 1000 men have cummed into you before, similarly with men. There should be no double standards. Socially, virginity is still seen as a virtue.

     But that doesn’t mean virginity is a pride. It is highly subjective. Someone who has preserved it is likely to be respected more. Although on a personal level, the woman need not feel any less moral if she isn’t a virgin.

      Personally, I come from a conservative country and I find virginity super important. But that’s just me. We all have different moral codes. 

      I find virginity important for myself and I will preserve it. No one should be judged for how they want to live their life.

      I think virginity is the pride of a lady. I believe it’s something you’re supposed to keep till marriage. You’re supposed to keep it for your husband, that special person, he’s supposed to be the only person that’ll have access to your body.

      But even if virginity is not a pride, sleeping around with any guy that comes your way is just somehow.

       Your body is not for everybody. This is my opinion. It’s the pride of a lady for me.


      Virginity shouldn’t define the respect a lady gets from her man. If we’re being realistic, losing or keeping one’s virginity is a choice and it doesn’t automatically make her promiscuous. In the end, it’s who the person really is that matters.


     Most people see virginity as the only thing that makes her a woman. If you’re of the belief that that is the only thing that makes her complete and whole then you’re totally wrong.

   Yes, virginity gives her more respect than someone who actually did it. But then again, if someone doesn’t get married as a a virgin, you first have to know how she lost it.

    There are other ways to lose one’s virginity than sex. When I first discovered that, it actually opened my mind. The hymen might have torn without having sex before.

  But we’re in Africa and we have this belief that if you had sex outside of marriage, your respect will reduce. Virginity gives you an edge, your husband will trust you and not associate you with waywardness.

     I believe it gives a lady confidence to be able to say, “You met me a virgin, don’t talk to me like that.” Virginity is not the only thing, there are other things a lady has that can give her respect.



     I don’t think losing your virginity should attract disrespect. It’s just the way the girls of nowadays have turned out to be.

      People lose their virginity because of love, it shows the way you really trust the other person and really wish to spend the rest of your life with him.

    Most girls nowadays have sex because of money not love.

    Married people will tell you ‘I met my wife a virgin‘. This phrase means that when they were courting, the man happened to be the one to disvirgin her and coincidentally got married.

    But when they don’t end up together, it doesn’t mean the lady should lose any respect.  Its the way a lady carries herself that will make a man respect her.

    Character is the only way you get respect. You can be a virgin and be disgusting. It’s the motive behind losing virginity that matters.

   I used to condemn people that were deflowered but now I know how it feels.

   It is said in the Bible that no one should have premarital sex but it takes God’s grace for you to be in a SERIOUS relationship without sex. When you don’t see a future with the man you’re dating, you can’t bring yourself to devote your body.

    Our mentality in Nigeria when it comes to losing virginity is unfavorable to the females. If a man can disvirgin a woman, he should also lose respect because sex involves the consent of two people.

     Most men today are not virgins, can’t they keep themselves till marriage also?

   Everybody has a story to tell. We judge people a lot in our country.

    If we can ask most ladies why/how they lose their virginity, you’ll find out it’s because of love and the level of trust with the hope that things will end well. Unfortunately, the guy breaks up with her after she’s trusted him with her life.

   The men should be the ones ashamed of themselves because of their inability to be responsible and commit to one person. Why can’t guys be serious and honest about their intentions towards a  lady instead of deceiving her?

   For me, men are snakes because they can be fucking 5 girls and deceiving each of them with ‘I love you‘.

   My advice to ladies is: ‘They should ensure the person who they want to give their body to is devoted to the relationship.

What are your thoughts?

         Is virginity still worth anything in today’s world? Is it worth anything to you?

*Like this post
*Let me know your opinion using the comments section
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Thank you ✨


The Answers to All Your Woes…

It’s another Saturday on A’s Chronicles, the sun isn’t up yet (at the time I’m writing this post),the birds are not chirping (they must be asleep), I can still feel the dew of the morning caressing my skin and my mind is a wide empty field (I swear I can feel the emptiness, my head feels lighter)

But before I delve into that topic, I shall reveal the answers of the last post. Four Truths and A Lie! Check it out if you missed it last week 😚.

5. I’m a huge fan of Harry Potter movies.

In answer to the question, no I’m not a Potterhead. I like Harry Potter but not that much.

8. I’m an amazing dancer.

I guess this one was too obvious a lie😂😂. Everybody chose this option 😭😭. But I’ve been told that not knowing how to dance is the first sign that you’re going to be rich😁. Notice how rich people can’t dance? yeah….

13. My favorite color is Blue.

Haha! I don’t have a favorite color.😉

16. I’m very good at sketching although I don’t do it often or show anyone my sketches, it’s like a hidden talent.

Lie!😂 I don’t think I can draw a straight line properly 😭😂. I can’t sketch. 🙂

24. I’m scared of the dark.

Nope. I’m not scared of the dark. I’m only scared of things in the dark sometimes.

Now that that’s settled….

I am being plagued by Writer’s Block. Yeah, it’s very serious. And I think I might actually have to😖…I think I might actually have to😖….I think I might actually have to…go out to find inspiration.

So hopefully I come up with something before next week 😩

Anddd…. If you have anything you’d like me to write on, speak now or hold your peace forever 🌝

Help me serve you😉

Subscribe! I can’t stress this enough! 😩

And if you didn’t confirm your subscription with the confirmation email sent to you, you’re not fully subscribed yet so go do that. Merci✨

Four Truths and A Lie!

          Bonne année mes amies! A very walm welcome to 2022, I’m feeling really optimistic about this year!

I thought I’d let you guys get a little bit acquainted with the beautiful soul behind all the awesome blog posts that you read…😌

I’m sharing 20 random facts about me. But I’ve written 25 facts and in every five facts I share, one is a lie. It’s up to you to figure out which facts are lies and inform me in the comments section. I’ll let you know if you’re wrong ❎ or right ☑️

Shall we?


1. As of the time I’m writing this post, I have 18 years, 1 month, 2 weeks, 3 days, 10 hours, 20 minutes and 16 seconds of existence under my belt.

2. I’m a lover of all things French.

3. I’m 5 feet 7-ish inches. Yes, let that sink in…I’m tall😌.

4. I’ve never attended a wedding, sad and pathetic 😪.

5. I’m a huge fan of Harry Potter movies.



6. I’m a melophile.

7. I’m  a cross breed between messy and neat.

8. I’m an amazing dancer.

9. I share the same birthday with the Founding Father of African Literature, Chinua Achebe. Do I believe it’s a sign? Hell yeah!

10. I love food and I’m an incredibly slow eater.



11. I’m a triple threat: tooth gaps, dimples and pink lips.😉

12. I cannot ride a bicycle.

13. My favourite colour is Blue.

14. I seem to have a mean streak.

15. I’m not a fan of animals.


16. I’m very good at sketching although I don’t do it often or show anyone my sketches, it’s like a hidden talent.

17. I love solitude.

18. I love reading, I find that I gravitate towards non-fiction lately. I no longer read for fun, just knowledge.

19. I have a very short attention span and find it excruciatingly difficult to focus.

20. I’m socially awkward; my social interactions are cringe worthy.


21. I’m a Scorpio, whatever that means.

22. I talk to myself a lot, more often in French these days.😂

23. I’m the second born child in my family.

24. I’m scared of the dark.

25. I’m super clumsy, mostly because I’m anxious most of the time.


So guys, what’s it gonna be?🤷

Tell me your answers in the comment section, you dare not air me🙂.

Happy New Year Once Again 🥳🥳🥳

In other news, What has been your favorite blog post from 2021? 😁

And…do your first good deed of the year 2022 by entering your email address and clicking on the Subscribe button when you scroll a little further down the page.

You’ll get a lil confirmation email when you do that and you should totally click the confirmation thingy.

What’s your proudest moment?

I was 15 and in my final year of high school. The English Teacher came to inform me and two other students that our school needed a student to represent them in an upcoming essay writing contest against students of other schools.

But, he couldn’t decide among the three of us so he asked us to write an essay on a particular topic….I came last😩. The student with the highest mark was chosen as the school’s representative.

On the day of the competition, I and another student accompanied ‘the chosen ones‘ to the event (as was our practice), it wasn’t uncommon for non-participants to accompany the representatives on such events.

So I tagged along..

The prize for whoever won the competition was an iPhone ( I can’t remember the model that was in vogue then)

Sha sha..

The competition began and the person officiating asked me and my tagalong counterpart if we would like to wait outside or just write the essay to keep from being idle.

I was all for waiting outside, honestly.. but our teacher encouraged us to give it a try and I thought, “well, why not?” 🤷

So I sat down and I just wrote whatever I wanted cos I thought, “I’m not a contestant, it wouldn’t matter anyway“. That didn’t mean I wrote it completely shabbily but I know that if I was a contestant, I’d have written it ten times better than I did.

If you’re intelligent, I think you already know how the story ends….

I won!🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

Yes I did!

Surprised? So was I 😂

I wasn’t expecting it at allllllll☺️

Sadly, I wasn’t given the iPhone 😪. According to them, I wasn’t an ‘official contestant’ but they gave me an award instead ( with my name on it and everything 😁: my very first award 🥰)

The woman at the office where I went to receive the award must’ve shook my hand a million times 😅, telling me how well of a good job I’d done.

The girl who came second place was given the iPhone but they lied to her that she was first place cos y’know 😉.. she was an ‘official contestant’🙄

Even till now, if I encounter some of my high school teachers, they make reference to that essay competition and it fills me with pride and a sense of accomplishment 🙂

Enough about me….

What’s your proudest moment?

It doesn’t have to be a moment where you won anything, just a moment where you felt really really proud of yourself ☺️…

Tell me all about it in the comments section..I wanna hear from you..💙


You see, where I’m from you’re either the best or you’re not it.

It didn’t matter if you were the Best in English in your class if you weren’t the overall Best in the class.

I wrote a major exam once and I passed, considering the circumstances surrounding which I wrote the exam, I’d say I did pretty good. I was proud of myself, I thought I’d done a good job.

But I wasn’t met with the same excitement. It was just a content smile here and there and I felt underappreciated cos I knew others who had performed less than I did and they were commended.

So I said, “you know, in some other people’s houses, if they scored as high as I did, they’d be celebrating by now.”

And the response I got was, “we’re not other people.”

It stung, a lot….😂

More so because when I failed a major exam once (and by fail, I mean I had an average score), it was all I heard for weeks. It made me wonder, Why couldn’t my successes be spoken about like my failures?

Why was it that when I didn’t do a good job was spoken about a lot more than when I did a good job?

And I think it conditioned me to shine the light on my shortcomings while my strengths remain in the dark. Because somewhere in the recess of my mind, my failures deserve more attention than my triumphs.

I find myself disregarding small wins and focusing on the tiniest little mistakes, dwelling on what I’d done wrong rather than what I’d done right because that was what was constantly being shoved in my face.

Now, your story may not fall along these lines but we might have similar endings.

You have friends, don’t you?
Think of a friend you love so much.
Are you there?
Imagine he/she made a little mistake, would you constantly dwell on that?
So why can’t you afford the same kindness you express to other people to yourself?

If you can beat yourself up over a tiny mistake, why can’t you celebrate a small achievement?

It’s December.

And yes, I know some of us are already outlining the stuff we have or haven’t achieved this year.

But while you do that, remember that we are to learn from mistakes and not place our entire worth on them.

Nobody likes failure.

Or do you?

I know I don’t.

I like the satisfaction of ticking a goal off my list.

But the thought of failing at something I’d already set out to achieve? Nahh😩

But we keep pushing..

I keep trying because I can’t not try. 🙂

I can’t not try.🙂

Not trying feels even worse than failure for me….

So I didn’t know what to title this post😂😂😂

That’s why you see “Untitled” 😂😂

But if you by chance have any ideas on a suitable title for this post, it would be very much appreciated 🥺

Happy new month 🤸🤸🤸


So you want to be a Nigerian parent?

Who better to learn from than the culprits themselves?

Nigerian parents must belong to the same cult because how the hell do they act so alike at times, like they get tips from the same individual. Anyone else wonder?

* Superpowers

Nigerian parents possess a common superpower, the ability to command and get things done. Why else would they sit in the living room with the remote located on the table directly within arm’s length but still decide to call on you (who is nowhere near) to hand them the remote? Yet, you have no choice but to obey.

* Masters Degree in Sarcasm

Where should I put it?

I bet you already know what comes next.

Put it on my head.”

Yes, we’ve heard it over a thousand times. This phrase is on the lips of any typical Nigerian Parent.

A Nigerian Parent without the sarcasm is just not a Nigerian Parent.

* Na your papa money? Yes 😪

Visitors had this common habit of blessing our little fingers as kids with cash. But once you receive that cash in the presence of your parents, it’s best you acknowledge that it’s not yours anymore. Nigerian parents are laying in ambush waiting for the right time to strike, to strip you of your earnings. To be very honest, that thing dey pain💔.
You’ll feel like you just lost a body part, you’ll even fantasize about running

* Disgrace is a dish that Nigerian Parents are always ready to serve, any day, anytime.

Nigerian parents are champions at this. I recall a time in Junior classes when a mother came to school to inform the whole class that her son was dirty and he regularly wet the bed at his age.

Okay ma, now that you’ve told
me, what should I do with this information or what did you hope to achieve bydoing this?What if I bed wet too?

She was probably counting on us to be the immature children that we obviously were and make him a subject of ridicule, a task that we executed perfectly.

Or the story of the girl who at the smallest sign of boobs forming thought it’d be a good idea to breastfeed the child she was supposed to be babysitting as well as other toddlers
in the facemeI-faceyou house. Having had the opportunity to have lived directly opposite one, I was used to witnessing a lot of drama and this one was no different. Her parents decided to deal with her outside, on the street, in public. They flogged this babe ehn, I felt sorry for her😂. To top it off, one callous neighbour was screaming “naked am and flog am well.”

* Thou shalt not remain idle, not even for a millisecond.

To Nigerian parents, pressing your phone is a glaring sign that you’re jobless and have not been assigned enough chores. Pressing your phone in
the presence of Nigerian parents equals felony.

Then why do I have a phone,
pray tell? For decoration? Is it an ornament?

They don’t even consider you might be
attending to important issues. They’ll initially complain of how you’re always
pressing your phone and then apportion you an errand or two since you have so much time on your hands.

* If they gave you life, they automatically don’t owe you any money, ever.

Never make the mistake of lending a Nigerian parent money. Risk it
and try asking for your money back, I can bet you my left boob that they’ll tell
you the history of how you were carried in the womb for nine months and how they’ve providing your basic needs ever since. If they ever pay you back, you should give a testimony in church because a Nigerian parent paying the money they owe you
should also be classified as a miracle.

* Pseudo-Detectives

Let some Nigerian parents catch
you smiling at your phone, they behave like detectives who just uncovered some sort of mystery.

“Who are you talking to?”


You don’t know the person.

Why do you want to know?

Evade the question and they automatically assume you have a lover.

Very nosy set of people.😑

Now listen, simply imitate all the traits listed above and you’re well on your way to becoming a Nigerian parent.

Won’t you tell me thank you?

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Have something you’d like to add? Don’t be shy, drop a comment. I don’t bite😗

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Thanks for taking time to read. Hope to see you here again next week!

“For better or worse”

First off, I want to apologise for being off this space for a long time- a month and two days. Note that it wasn’t voluntary, sometime Life just happens. Forgive me, it’ll never happen again. I hope…..

Anyways, I wrote my first short story last week. Not my first though, my first official short story so here it is…

Let me know what you think in the comments section, should I go on with writing short stories or should I just forget it and accept it’s not my calling. Don’t judge too harshly 🙂




         Nothing can compare to the pain etched in your child’s eyes as he scrutinizes the bruises that mar your face courtesy of his father. The mountain of tears threatening to fall are to powerful to hold back but I do it anyway. His small hands squeeze the insides of my palm and his innocent eyes look at me worriedly, worry that shouldn’t be present on a four-year-old’s face.

          I try to look brave and conjure a smile.

“Mummy….who beat you?”

“I fell down..” the lie rolls off my tongue easily, it’s not the first time I’ve had to tell it. I can see the disbelief flash in his eyes before he leaves the room. If I had known where he was going or what he was about to do, I’d have stopped him. If I had known he was on his way to his father to ask, “why did you beat my mummy?” I’d have strapped him on my back till he fell asleep.

       When any teenage girl dreams of a husband and marriage, they dream of two hearts so invested in each other, one doesn’t even think of hurting the other. They dream of seductive smiles accompanied by sensual touches. They dream of joy, laughter and happily ever afters. What a shame that ninety percent of all those dreams turn to dust once they enter the sacred marriage institution.

        What a shame that I didn’t see this side of him beforehand. What a shame that the first time his blow landed on my cheek I didn’t immediately gather my belongings and exit. They say every marriage has its imperfections, no one is perfect. I’m not asking for perfect, I just want normal. But the society’s definition of normal seems a far cry from mine. The society says a woman must endure, we were raised that way. If she checks out of the marriage, she is seen as wayward, a shame to her family and the society. The woman that stays and endures is the hero, she is strong. I wanted a marriage, I didn’t ask for endurance. Or maybe I did. He used to be a cultist, he confessed it on a drunken night. He had a history of violence.

“Why?” I had inquired, my heart rate increasing with each passing second.

“I had nothing. No looks, intelligence or money. I needed to have something and they offered me one- power.”

But that was in the past, isn’t it said that love conquers all?

So I married him. I couldn’t complain, I had it better than some women. He might hit me from time to time but at least we were well to do, we lacked nothing and he was loyal. Some women go through worse, I said that to console myself.

I didn’t have it all bad, there were good times, lots of good times. I live for those times, when the smile that envelopes his face is a sure sign that things are going to be good for a few weeks.

A tiny part of me was a bit relieved when he was detained in KiriKiri for eight months and I felt guilty for thinking that way every single day. He and his stepbrother had some kind of misunderstanding over a piece of property and his stepbrother, being the more powerful and influential of them decided to lock him up. I was left to fend for myself and two kids. I worked all and every job I could find. My stepmother was my saving grace in those trying times. She invested herself financially, physically and spiritually for which I’m eternally grateful.

I won’t lie, I missed my husband a lot. I missed a warm body to lie next to at night. I missed not having to work multiple jobs just to survive. I hated my boys asking frequently, “where is Daddy?” and having to lie to them each time. I hated having to drop my kids off somewhere while I looked for ways to earn some extra cash.

His stepbrother approached me. He asked me to offer my body in exchange for my husband’s freedom. It was the toughest decision I’d had to make in my entire life but I couldn’t do it. My husband would find out surely and he’d deal with me accordingly. So I refused. Each time I did, my husband’s jail term stretched further.

I became a Christian in those times, finding God in the darkest hour and he didn’t disappoint. My husband was finally released, I was grateful. Everything was going well again till my stepmother came to visit. He became mad, for whatever reason I couldn’t comprehend. He warned me to never see her again. This was a woman that had been there for me during the hardest times, how could I desert her? I tried to make him see reason but he refused to listen. He accused me of sharing intricate matters of the family with outsiders. He forbade me from having any friends or companions.

What could I do but endure?

Now my kids are growing up, my first son almost seventeen. He’s beginning to see his father in a new light, something I never wanted to happen. He hits me lesser these days thankfully but his rage goes untamed, he resorts to emotional abuse. I hate my boys having to witness that so I made sure they attended boarding schools where they can be away from the harsh reality of us. I don’t know how much longer I can hide the mess that is ‘us’ but I’ll spend my whole life trying. Afterall, we vowed “For better or worse” on that fateful morning nineteen years ago and it’s a vow I intend to keep.

Happy Anniversary??🤨🤷

                Imagine my surprise while drinking garri this afternoon only to be met with a “Happy one year anniversary” notification from WordPress. I was legit confused, I haven’t been blogging for up to a year so how come?

              So I thought and thought and thought about it and it finally clicked. Sit tight, grab a cup of garri to get in the mood while I tell you a story….

              Last year, I had the idea to start a blog, but there was one problem: I didn’t know what a blog was…..or how it worked. I just knew that it involved writing, which was something I could do or so I thought.
               Of course, I asked my dear friend, Google. She told me some things but I still didn’t get it. Sorry, I’m a slow learner😓. I needed someone to dumb it down a little for me. In the absence of that, I abandoned the idea.

            I revisited the idea sometime in October. I discovered that you could actually blog for free with WordPress. There were other platforms but WordPress was highly recommended. But the issue was, what is WordPress? I dug and dug again and found out I could get the app so I did that. I registered with my email and created an account this very day one year ago.

          Still, the whole blogging scene wasn’t clear to me. I think you know what happens next, I go to Google again.

          I went in search of Nigerian bloggers and I think we all know whose name pops up first, Linda Ikeji. But her modus operandi wasn’t what I was looking for. I wanted to write but not what she writes, what I wanted was a far cry from her content.

          I came back to WordPress and scrolled through some of the write ups on the WordPress Reader and to be completely honest, I was discouraged. I saw really, really, really good write-ups that I could never even dream of emulating. I thought, “I can’t write like these people, their stuff is too good. I can’t do it.”

         I left. I deleted the WordPress app and continued with my life.

October went..

November came and went…


January 2021 …..


March..(The third best month after November and December, argue with your keyboard 😏)

           I was so optimistic about 2021, so optimistic that I decided to get the WordPress app and give blogging a real try. But, I had a glitchy phone, a phone that looked like Goliath accidentally trampled on it all thanks to Mololuwa 🙂. That was not all, it also fell into water, all credit for that goes to yours truly 😌😂.

         On March 13th 2021, I uploaded My First Blog Post which I had hurriedly written the night before.

         And yes, with a very glitchy phone I took the first steps of my blogging journey. That’s why excuses will forever remain excuses to me. I had to write while rotating the screen vertically, horizontally, vertically, horizontally over and over again because some parts of the screen were dead. But did that stop me? No.

         I used this same phone to chat on WhatsApp so why couldn’t I use it to blog? I’m happy that glitchy phone is long goneeeee🥳🥳😌.

       I’ve never once regretted taking that shaky step to where I am today. I’m grateful for all the friends I’ve made on WordPress, all the people I’ve come in contact with through the course of this blogging journey and to all the people that constantly share my stuff and support me and to all the friend of a friend who is not my friend but tells that friend to tell me that they like my blog. Did you get that? 👀

                And to all the knowledge, opinions, information and write-ups I encounter daily on WordPress. For real, I spend hours on WordPress reading and reading and reading and reading. It’s funny how I don’t have time to read books but I have enough time to read on WordPress 🌝.

               And to all the times I wanted to quit but thought, What do I have to lose? Anyone who’s been around me lately is aware that this is my mantra.

               And to all the times I’ve had to erase like from my write-ups while editing. Who knew I used so many ‘likes‘ when speaking, like?

            Before blogging, I’ve attempted writing stories before, none of which had ever been completed. Then, I always had problems with tenses, dialogue and in summary, I was a terrible writer.

          But today, I can confidently say that I’m a less-terrible writer. Like two percent less.

Anyways, I’m done with the story. Now what was the point of this story? I don’t know but maybe you might.

       And on that note.. Happy anniversary??🤷

“Speak up!”

Speak up!”

              If I had a dollar for every time I heard those words, I’d be a millionaire by now. We live in an extrovert world that bullies the quiet, the socially anxious. A world where the outspoken are celebrated and the reticent are shamed. A world that constantly attempts to coerce the coy out of their shell. A world where the vocal are the majority and the taciturn, the minority. A world that demands you be confident, or at least fake confidence in order to get everything you want out of life.

I’m not much of a conversationalist. I’m the kind of person who when an individual steps on my feet in public, I choose to overlook because I don’t want to cause a scene, I’d do anything to be out of the spotlight. Whether the person delivers an apology or not is irrelevant to me. What’s the half-hearted sorry going to do anyways? Take away the pain? This is someone I’m probably never going to see again. I’m the girl you’d find sitting awkwardly in a social setting because I’m overthinking what I should say. I’m the girl who would smile through inconvenience, trying not to upset anyone or be the centre of attention.

Life is hard, it’s even harder when you’re being misunderstood eighty percent of the time. When your silence is misconstrued as pride or impudence. When declining an invitation to an event is viewed as arrogance. When not knowing what to say is perceived as impoliteness.

How could you be so rude? He was talking to you and you didn’t even acknowledge him with a reply?” she says. How then can I reply, “I didn’t know what to say” ?

When your very nature is seen as a glitch and who you are, anomalous. When a large percentage of the people you know try to cure you from your very essence. When being shy is childish and immature.

 Opportunities slip through your fingers because people take one look at you and deem you not good enough. Quietness is illegal and loudness is the currency.

Writing presents an acceptable outlet, I tell the things I really should say out loud.

While I might never be the girl who would embrace open confrontations, I might not be the girl who strides with confidence in her every step, I might shrivel in the spotlight and I might never give a speech in public without the fear of dropping dead.

I deserve equal chances as my vocal counterparts, quiet is not a defect.

I will speak up in the only way I know how, in the only way my voice is at its loudest- writing, because the pen is as mighty as the sword.

I’ll make sure that my silence is the loudest fucking thing in the room.

( Yours truly, seated in the back of a bus overthinking what pitch to call “Charlie boy”)

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As usual, share your thoughts in the comments section, I’ll be waiting.

The New World

           (Guest Post By Kharmarh)

                Hi, if you are reading this, it’s too late. I was born in a running world, it wasn’t like that in the past centuries, not until we were born and everything changed. The past has become so distant like it didn’t happen, while the future is like a myth, we all are craving for. They say “live today like it’s going to be your last.” We misinterpret that, we are running carelessly after things that won’t matter in years to come.We want the screen world, we don’t care how dumb we look so long as we get it. We forget our laughing buddies for the ones on their phones and fingers to seek approval. We don’t see bad things in our midst as a big deal until it’s trending somewhere else. We gave the finger people power to determine our feelings about ourselves.

           It wasn’t always like this, everything changed when we weren’t looking. Everywhere, you see people glued to their screens. Screens are not all bad, just pay attention to the world around you… It’s beautiful.

            Have you seen the shooting star, moon, sun, the seas, hills and mountains? These things are beyond what any mouth can speak. I want whoever is reading this to drop your phones, sit still, go outside and see the world. Praise the Creator for giving you grace.

             We change the world by redesigning who we are but never forgetting where we come from.

I am just passing by anyways. It’s funny how a baby with the cutest smile becomes a grown up with devious acts. Don’t think I am perfect cause I’m pointing out the flaws in the New World. We are all victims of the same circumstances.

Blogger Session with Sam Sahana



                    It’s another beautiful day and another interview with a wonderful blogger. You really should go read some of her write ups here


How did you discover your love for writing?

By the time I was 11, I’d read a lot of fiction by a lot of different authors, which augmented my imagination and gave me a wider world view. That’s when I realised that I should start writing a story of my own and have it published. Thus, “Nick and Puck”, a book I planned to turn into a series was in the making. Unfortunately, I lost my manuscript while in the midst of the 1st book. I was dejected and rather discouraged. A year later, I was writing articles on important issues, winning competitions and earning my name as a writer at school. That revived the budding writer in me to try a hand at another book, which also didn’t come to be due to several reasons. It was only after I turned 15 that I developed a definite style of writing and published my first book, lights camera Auschwitz.


Why did you start blogging and what is your blog about?

Oh, an interesting question! You may have heard of Anne Frank. The girl who famously said “I want to go on living after my death” and lived up to her word. After she was gone prematurely, all that was left of her was her written legacy. Her diary and some of her less renown written works from her time in hiding inspired me a great deal to leave behind my own share of written legacy. Hence, I began writing in large volumes in a fancy little notebook. Soon enough, the book was filled with imaginative stories, proses, poetry and other pieces that I decided it’d be such a waste to have them to myself. I wanted to share my thoughts on a larger platform and present them to a larger audience. While I haven’t shared anything from that notebook in my blog so far, I decided I could be Anne Frank in the modern world- someone who feels strongly about certain issues, has powerful opinions and has no fear to voice them. I did not want my thoughts to be secret anymore. Thus, my blog began. My blog contains very random write-ups. Serious social issues, light-hearted pieces, poetry, stories, you name them! It’s an extension of my notebook. I’m an adolescent, so you will find a lot of maturity and a lot of puerile silliness at the same time.


How would you describe your blogging journey so far?

I’ve been blogging for 4 months now and it’s been terrific! I’m really enjoying it and I’ve learned that it is DEFINITELY my cup of tea. I’ve met some wonderful people here who make this journey even more amazing, exactly why I wanted to begin a blog in the first place.

How has blogging impacted your life?

On more than one occasion, my blog has acted as my virtual diary. I’ve been able to talk to people about my mental well-being and vent about trivial matters whenever required. Writing about your problems is therapeutic. Being heard and having people to tell you “Been there, done that” is even more therapeutic. It’s divinely cathartic! One must experience it to feel it. When you are on the receiving end of overwhelming love from people, you tend to feel extremely blissful. When your work gets validated and appreciated, you feel that you’ve earned it. Blogging has improved my confidence and mental wellness.


What’s the craziest thing you’ve experienced in the blogosphere?

There are two kinds of crazy- a good kind of crazy and a bad kind of crazy. I’ll start with the bad kind so we may finish this question on a positive note.

The bad kind of crazy is when people mass-like all your posts without even reading them in order to gain attention to their own blogs. I have about 29 posts in my blog so far and I recently received 29 likes (1 like in each post) in 29 seconds! That’s 1 like per second! The good kind of crazy is this- you realise many people are exactly like you even when you see something about yourself as absolutely quirky! Apparently, there are people as crazy and queer as yourself around the world. There have interesting anecdotes to share and diverse notions on the same issue.


What’s the story behind your blog name?

Oh, you’ll be entirely unimpressed. I’m usually very good with titles, names, captions and the like, but I really couldn’t think of a name for my blog (relatable?). I named my blog after writing my first post. My first post was about bribery. I decided I would write a lot about the dirty side of politics and that I shall influence people against malpractices. I named my blog “Diary of a reformer.” Later on, I realised that a blog is not like Twitter. You cannot be an “influencer” as you would be in Twitter or if you were a celebrity. Recently, I had an epiphany about how random the content in my blog is. So I decided to give it a more suitable name “Diary of a Dreamer.”


What are the things you dislike about blogging?

Sometimes, people might have a shallow knowledge on a certain subject but decide nevertheless, to share their limited knowledge on the said subject for the world to read. Some blogs may be manipulated and may spread misinformation. This is not pertaining to any blog I’ve read on WordPress, but it’s always a possibility. The internet is a small space and the number of brainwashed views are ever so many. I dislike fake propaganda and incorrect ideas shared through blogs. Research is important. Statistics should not be faked. Regarding creating blog posts, there is nothing I particularly dislike as I enjoy the process of researching, analysing and putting my thoughts out.


Do you ever experience writer’s block and what do you do on such occasions?

When writing blogs, not really. I only write when I feel like it and don’t have a particular schedule to do so, which is why I don’t need to overwhelm myself at a promised time or day even when my head is not full with ideas. When inspiration strikes, I pen it. I don’t wait for it. Writer’s block is more common in bloggers who post everyday or many times a day as they tend to burn out faster. However, it is very common and every writer has that phase. They emerge out of it better than they were before. I’ve experienced it before, but not particularly while blogging, perhaps because I haven’t been blogging for a substantial period yet. However, everyone will experience a writer’s block at some point and so will I. What I do on such occasions: take a break from writing and read a lot to open my mind to new ideas and welcome creative energy.


What are your thoughts on turning 18?

 Turning 18 entails a lot of new legal responsibilities. That’s it. Legal. The law looks at you as an adult but you do you. Grow at your own pace and don’t let the world hasten your growth. Those trees which bear fruits too soon never become full-fledged trees. At 18, you’re old enough to not fall prey to peer pressure, but not old enough to be out of your hormone slavery period. You’re still very much enslaved to your hormones and your prefrontal cortex is still maturing, meaning you aren’t good enough at making decisions yet. Your decisions may not always be the best. I’m not saying it, neurology says so. So if you want to take help from actual adults to meet important decisions, don’t let your ego hold you back. At 18, your ego is bigger than your prefrontal cortex.


What do you hope to achieve with your blog?

From something as simple as entertainment to something as big as change. The written word has that power. You and I can write our way to victory!


Is there anything else you would like to say to the readers?

Never let blogging tire you to the point of quitting! When it starts getting to you, take a vacation. When the blogosphere loses a blogger, it’s a loss to the entire ecosystem (blogosystem?) we have here. Keep spreading your thoughts respectfully without deeming your belief to be the ultimate. That ensures a healthy “blogological” balance. Be open to different points of view and be ready to accept ideas that are wildly different from your own, because diversity is the very beauty of existence…

And that’s it guys! Why I love having these interviews is because you get to see writing from different people and in different perspectives. Go ahead and check out Sam’s blog, you’ll be very impressed!

Mon Ami Extraordinaire

Clumsy old me lost all my writing. My poems, thoughts, blog posts, drafts.. they’re all gone. And while I was whining about it to this babe, she told me to write a post about her. She probably meant it as a joke but I took up the challenge so here we are.

Where to begin? July 24th or 25th I think, I met this Edo/ Abuja babe with a name I had never come across before. I don’t quite recall, I think she asked for my name. I told her and then I asked for hers. “Iyobosa,” she smiled. “Edo?” I inquired. “Yes,” she smiled even wider.

The class started and I could immediately decipher that she was a smart one. She spoke at length on the Trans- Atlantic slave trade, I was impressed. I sat beside her most days wanting her intelligence to rub off on me a little. There’s something about being around intelligent people, they make you want to read harder, study more, learn even more so when everyone is speaking, you have something valuable to add into the conversation.

Fast forward to the day our tutor announced to everyone that I had a blog, I just wanted to crawl inside a rock and not come out again, ever.

“This is the link to your blog ba?” she pointed her phone screen at me. I nodded timidly.

I found out she was a poet, she showed me her works and may I say, they are wonderful. I actually forgot my phone at home that day so I was unable to show her my poems. When I eventually did, she liked them and deep inside me, I was glad.

We got talking on Whatsapp, she wanted to measure her height. I told her I was 5 feet 7 inches and she replied that she must be 6 feet then. I laughed so much because this girl was so short, she could fit her whole body in a passport. She calls herself a growing child and deludes herself that she’s still going to grow tall.

A motivational speaker that should really take her own advice, she has been holding back for a long time and I think it’s about time she let go. I’ve been sending her motivational quotes because I want to see her let go, she has so much to offer and frankly, the world ain’t ready.

A very vibrant Raconteur. She entertained us with tales from boarding school and I even snagged a pic while she was talking because she won’t just stop talking. She made me walk the longest distance I ever have in my whole life, I’m exaggerating here but we trekked shege.

A party planner that should really put her money where her mouth is. The only person I know who would willingly spend her transport money ordering food from Jumia saying God would provide, he will not let me trek home. She alighted before her bus stop one particular instance just because of food. I can’t judge her because I’m perfectly capable of doing the same thing. She would say she’s sitting jejely on her own and something would tell her to open the Jumia app. My dear, uninstall it😂

We were constantly being separated in class. Then there’s the day where she was the teacher for about an hour. Best class I’ve ever attended in my life, please don’t tell Sublime. Public speaking is calling your name, Yobo.

Our chats are filled with us sending writing contests back and forth.

Not only is she beautiful, brainy, bold and most importantly, funny. This girl has made me laugh so haaard. She strikes the perfect balance between silly and smart. I’ve barely known her for two months and I can say with my full chest that this is a relationship I really wouldn’t want to end.

How can I forget? She’s customer care in the flesh. She’s almost always receiving a call. I think she has like two million friends and you should see her unread chats on Whatsapp. You can send Yobo a message in July and she’ll just be replying it in September 😂

Yobo, you’re a shining star and you really shouldn’t dim your light. Cheers to getting to know you better.

I’m going to end it here even though I’m nowhere near the end. Finally, I pray God showers Yobo and I with money.

You know what I hate most? It’s the fact that after publishing this post, my mind starts coming up with other things I should have said.

You can leave a short message for any of your friends in the comments section, something like a shout-out even though they might never see it.

Rants From a Tired Yoruba Girl

                    According to the dictionary app on my phone, tradition is an inherited pattern of thought or action. I’m using this medium to complain about these traditions which I basically do not find plausible. Keep in mind that this post is in no way about being woke, I don’t think I’ve ever used that word before now.

I had this friend who whenever she visited me would go down on her two knees to greet my parents which is commendable. And there’s my Dad who suddenly decided that I should emulate her greeting style. Her parents probably raised her that way but he didn’t. He didn’t raise me to kneel down to greet my elders so why would he expect me to start now? I don’t get it.

My little brother also had this babysitter at a time, who would complain bitterly about how I bow my head in greeting instead of kneeling down to greet her properly. If you know me, I think you are aware of how stubborn I am.

My mum says when she was a child, she would hold a bowl of water so her Dad could wash his hands in it after eating. She would stand there holding the bowl while he washed his hands. Why would I do that when I could just place the bowl on the table or he could wash his hands at the sink?

There’s also Mummy Cynthia who insists that my sister call her Mummy ( if you’re Nigerian, you’d know there are different ways of pronouncing Mummy, one for your Mum and one for other elderly women) rather than Mummy Cynthia apparently because Cynthia is not my sister’s age mate. Like seriously? This one is just funny to me to be honest. She says calling her Mummy Cynthia is disrespectful because Cynthia is much older than my sister. Lol.

Likewise, if children younger than I am call me Anjola, which is my name obviously, people around me will correct them saying they should call me Sister Anjola or Aunty Anjola instead. But do I care ? Absolutely not. Anjola is my name so call me by my name. These things are just irrelevant to me.

Lest I forget, there’s the left hand issue. Using your left hand to give items to your elders is disrespectful. This one was drummed into my head right from childhood and it has become a habit but on the days when I forget or unconsciously use the left hand, the scolding that accompanies such error is totally not worth it.

Why do the older generation place undue importance on such trivial things?

What are your thoughts? Let me know in the comments section.

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