I found Maame while searching for another book I wanted to read but had forgotten the name of.

Naturally, I love African stories. They’re what I’m most drawn to, and if I have a reading list at all, it’s almost entirely made up of African books. The main character of this book, Maddie, is 25 too, so I figured I’d be able to relate to her in some way.

Tbh, I’ve never really agreed with people who say African books are always sad, but Maame definitely gave me that vibe. Maddie just always seemed to be going through something. At some point, I found myself wondering what resolution would even look like for her. The problem was that I wasn’t hooked enough to keep reading and find out.

I also think part of it is that the story explored death and grief in a way I couldn’t really connect with because I haven’t experienced either. Maybe if I read it again years from now, I’d feel differently. Who knows?

I didn’t start taking notes immediately. I think I was about 50 pages in when I realised I had so many thoughts that I might as well start writing them down.

My thoughts

1. Mads can’t tell me she thought Ben loved her. As how?

2. The way Shu handled the conflict between she and Mads over her father’s death was somehow. She apologised, bro. She was literally in shock when she blamed you. Now she’s come back, realised she was wrong and apologised. I expected Shu to give her a bit more grace and make it easier for them to come back together as friends. She too should have apologised for how she reacted. Shikenah.

3. This Mads’ mum is mad o. If you don’t have the money, you can get a loan? A loan? For a burial? It’s the children who are supposed to bury their father? As how? Which foolish tradition demands that children get a loan to bury their parents? Children in their 20s still figuring themselves out. Omo, we will born the dead body o. Na their spirit matter. Jokes. But this is so cruel because it’s obvious Maddie doesn’t have the money and she’s expected to carry the weight of all this expectations and responsibilities again with little to no support.

4. No, this woman is actually very mad. There’s nothing anybody can tell me.

5. Omo, Mads literally feels like she’s carrying the weight of the world. The whole experience felt so real and honestly heartbreaking.

6. This babe sef. Sometimes you have to be wicked. Wdym you’re putting 50% towards your dad’s burial? You’re literally the last born nitori olórun. Is everybody mad here???

7. This Jo is a very somehow babe. There are some people you should never cross paths with, and Jo is one of them. Tell me why she’s making this whole thing about herself. Bro, she was in shock. Get over yourself already and forgive her.

8. I love being able to discuss the weirdest things with my friends. That call where Mads asked Shu why she’s a lesbian and not bi really got me. “Everybody’s a little bi.” A part of me actually agrees.

9. I love how Maddie’s mind works. I think her version of running to Google with every problem is me with AI right now. I just be pouring my heart out and trying to make sense of my many confusions.

10. Maddie lying to Alex is very valid in my opinion because he’s literally a stranger. What if he’s a serial killer? What if he was sent to monitor her, get close to her mum and then kill all of them? Ehn? Ehn?

Which also made me think about dating. It’s actually very somehow when you think about it. You just met someone, and somehow you’re already comfortable sharing really sensitive details about your life. Omo. That used to be me sha. I’m unlearning it because it’s actually bad behaviour. If we stop talking, you basically leave with so much information about me that I’m now too embarrassed to even reckon with. You’ve taken a part of me with you. I don’t like that. Now you’re back to being a stranger, but you know too much about me.

11. How Maddie, as the last born, had to carry the weight that’s typically expected of first borns’ is actually crazy to me. But yeah, it was about time she called their bluff. James and her mum got to continue living their lives while she carried the weight of being responsible for everyone and putting everybody else’s needs before hers.

That’s where I stopped. Page 278.

If you’ve read it, please how does it end?

For now, these ramblings are probably my favourite thing that came out of reading it.

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I don’t remember exactly how I felt at the beginning of this year. But my guess is that I started on a high note, especially because I had left my job, something I’d been considering for a year (ikr). I’m waiting for the regret to settle in because I’m still unemployed (largely by choice), but that feeling is nonexistent, to be honest. I really wanted to leave. So yeah, that was how I kickstarted the year. I also dabbled in romance, which was new terrain for me, then prepared my application for the Orange Academy branding school.

My mission for 2026 was simple: submit applications for grad school and get funding. But somewhere along the way, doubt crept in. I started asking myself, Can I really do this? So, I needed some form of evidence. Proof that a study scholarship is possible for me. So, I applied to study branding at Orange on a scholarship. Surprisingly, I got the scholarship (I was really just playing around; I didn’t think I’d get it). Looking back, I spent time pursuing opportunities that, while valuable, pulled my attention away from my primary goal.

In H1, I:

1. Fell in love and got into an actual relationship. It’s now the longest romantic relationship I’ve ever been in. Crazy, I know.

2. Received a four-month scholarship to study branding at Africa’s first practical branding school. I graduate this month!

3. Prayed for consistently for weeks until I got exhausted (still trying to unexhaust tbh)

4. Consistently posted on LinkedIn and had 1:1 calls with 14 people to help them have clarity in their career

5. Attended my first Hallelujah challenge courtesy of my boyfriend. I loved it

6. Organised a virtual session themed Scattered to Structured for early comms career professionals with 4 speakers, including me. Over 50 people registered, and about 30 attended the main event. I started a story newsletter specifically for this event and I’ve gotten 3 speakers on so far

7. Launched a workbook for early career professionals

8. Listened to a lot, like a lot of sermons

9. Made huge progress in terms of fine-tuning my research voice for my PhD aspirations by reading research papers, writing articles, and talking a lot to my friends about my areas of curiosity

10. Spoke to 2 additional grad school candidates (total = 8) to hear about their experiences and seek guidance on how to go about my application and study

11. Started a newsletter publication on my research interest in AI and comms. Then I wrote and published two articles there

12. A couple of my Substack notes went viral, and I grew from 100 to almost 500 subscribers (without showing up consistently)

13. Taught an adult computer skills, and I’ve been teaching seven primary school students. Plus, I started an AI literacy workshop to familiarise them with the AI tools we use on a day-to-day basis

14. Reviewed and updated CVs for about 5 people

15. Read a couple of marketing books and fiction (I’m yet to complete any fiction piece this year btw).

For someone who’s unemployed, I kept myself very busy.

In H2, I want to focus on the things that really matter to me. I desperately want to get away from the noise, sit with myself, and focus on my focus. I may or may not have allowed my fear of being broke or relying solely on my parents to drive my thoughts and actions in H1.

I’m currently at a crossroad: I want to get a job because that’s what adults do, and I need a lot of money to look as good as the people I see on SM. Also, my parents have sponsored my education up to master’s level and are now expecting some form of compensation, which is very, very valid. However, whenever I think about working in a corporate setting, I feel exhausted. I’m not sure whether that’s because the last four years of my career often felt like a battleground—constantly walking on eggshells, trying to prove my worth, and fighting the persistent feeling that I didn’t belong, even when I did.

I want to do work that is aligned with who I am at my core. I don’t just want to work for the money. And as someone who loves the options and comfort that money provides, I find that balancing both is so hard.

I’m currently unsure about this part of my life. Not confused. I kind of know what I want; I’m just dealing with a lot of uncertainty. And it’s not fun.

What I know though is that I want to do a PhD that sits at the intersection of AI and communications. And I want to share that journey. The ups and downs of applying and preparing. The questions and answers. The fears, the joys, the progress, the delays, disappointments, wins, everything.

I’m learning that my brain engages better with challenges. I want to do hard things but only if it’s structured in a way that helps me see measurable progress. So, I’ll be sharing my progress as a form of accountability (fingers crossed).

Honestly, the only thing I want from H2 is to submit a stellar application to at least four universities. Any other thing (read: a job and money) is a by-product tbh.

In H2, let’s see what happens when I stop chasing everything and commit fully to the one thing that matters most to me.

Happy birthday to the love of my life mehn

To the man who makes my heart race and makes me blush like a schoolgirl

To the man who makes love fun and exciting (even on days where we have disagreements)

To the man who consistently showers me with love in little and big ways...

Happy birthday to my man! ❤️

And here are three more things that I love about you.

1. You write me love letters: Funny thing is, I used to say that I didn’t want to be with someone who works in comms like me. Well, joke’s on me. The good thing is you dey transfer your work skills to our relationship, cos you dey write. Ahn ahn! But I love it—I don’t have to read emails with wrongly used words like the ones from Mr. Chevron winks. One of my favourite things to do is to go through some of the love notes you’ve sent me. No matter how long ago you sent them, they always make my day.

2. You’re driven, hardworking, and diligent with your work: This goes without saying, but I admire the fact that you take your work very seriously—unlike some people (me). As someone who is always looking for the next barrier to break, I’m so glad I don’t have to try to shrink my dreams to fit my partner’s. The level of commitment you give to your work is commendable, icl. Well done!

3. You flirt with me openly: This thing is funny but not funny at the same time. Babe??? Also, this is not about me returning the energy, mfjpm. Sometimes I see a text from you and I’m like, “This boy is after my life at this point.” To be honest, I genuinely enjoy it because it makes me blush hard and get very shy. But this is definitely not an excuse to continue. But please, continue.

Honestly, I could go on and on about all the things I love about you. But, we’ll stop here for now. Let’s reconvene for your golden jubilee. Leemao.

So, the full list of things I love about you are:

1. Your beauty

2. You’re so smart

3. You’re such a sweet talker

4. You’re lovechalant

5. You’re so annoying

6. You match my level of crazy

7. You cook and cooked for me

8. You allow me to be imperfect

9. You’re expressive

10. When I’m around you, I’m very comfortable and bubbly

11. You call me your darling

12. You give me hot gist

13. Your sense of humour

14. You listen to my crazy long voice notes

15. You support me

16. You make me happy

17. You’re impulsive and adventurous

18. You’re a good person

19. You’re resilient

20. You have great taste

21. You’re very silly

22. You are patient with me

23. You write me love letters

24. You’re driven, hardworking, and diligent with your work

25. You flirt with me openly

But most of all…..

I love youuu!

1-5; 6-10; 11-15; 16-19; 20-22

Roses are red, violets are blue. But none comes close to you.

Hello everyone, tomorrow is my baby’s birthday. And as the best girlfriend in the whole world, I’ve promised him planet Earth. See that I didn’t say the whole world? I’m generous like that. You guys have between now and 11:59 pm today to move planets. Thanks for your cooperation.

Signed,

Management,

Boluwatife.

To my baby, I love you a lot lot. And here are 3 more things I love about you.

1. You have great taste: Ermmm, you chose me, so duhh—of course you have great taste. Quite frankly, I’m mostly tone-deaf. But I always enjoy the songs you curate or recommend to me. Apart from the fact that you love amala—questionable taste in my opinion, you try, you try. And then there’s your style; I don’t have to worry about my babe wearing slippers on a date winks. Proudly my man’s babe because my man always looks good. Period.

2. You’re very silly: Do you remember that video where we were dancing, then you turned and started twerking? That video lives rent-free in my head. Also, I love making facial expressions, and I’m happy that I found my match. The next stage is us giving the exact same facial expression at the same time. I think we can actually do that.

3. You are patient with me: You no really get choice, but yeah. I tend to misread and judge things wrongly. I’d have argued my point and spoken plenty English before I realized I was wrong. But you always allow me to come to my senses in my time, lol. So yeah. I love that. Thank you, my babe!

Does a silly little dance.

Tomorrow is my baby’s birthday o.

Happy birthday in advance, my love. See you tomorrow!

1-5; 6-10; 11-15; 16-19

I never felt this way before

Give me some more

That sweet love you’re on

When we first started talking, I usually had to wait until I could be by myself to reply to your messages—partly because of your sweetness, but also because I had a growing crush on you. 5+ months later, and that little crush has become a very huge one. One that would last forever, and a day after. You’re easily the last person I think about at night and the first person I think of when I wake up. My man, my man, my man.

Letting my guard down and allowing myself to fall deeply in love with you has been the best use of my time. Like I’ve said before, you’re a beautiful addition to my life. You’re something good, a good gift to me. And I do not take for granted getting to do this true love thing with you. This is where I want to be. You’re who I want to be with.

And here are four more things that I love about you.

1. You make me happy: Like very happy. At first, it was the excitement of meeting and talking to someone new. Now, it’s become so much more than that. Your very existence has been a steady supply of warmth and joy in my life. Your voice, your laughter, and your playfulness—everything about you makes me happy.

2. You’re impulsive and adventurous: Make I no expose you, but I like how impulsive you can be. Plus, you’re adventurous as well, so it makes it even more fun. As a non-adventurous partner, no vex for me, my babe. That’s why I have you. And I can’t wait to travel the world—especially to Norway—with you. But like, just tell me in advance, okay? winks aggressively

3. You’re a good person: I see how you treat people, especially your parents and people around you. Make I just dey learn from you because na God hand I dey. But yeah, babe. I’m not even trying to flatter you; I’m very impressed. Well, minus you always frowning. Try to look in the mirror every morning to practice smiling at people. Two of us can’t be frowning at people, yunno.

4. You’re resilient: I’m genuinely so proud of you. I’ve watched you make very drastic career and life changes since the beginning of the year and adapt to them pretty well. Again, I’m so proud of you. And you’re doing so well. Honestly, if I had to deal with half of the changes you’ve had so far, omo, I’ll just be crying every day. I’m not even joking. Well done, babe!

I’m very proud of you, baby. You’ve done so well for yourself.

Happy birthday in advance, my man. See you tomorrow!

1-5; 6-10; 11-15

And I love him,

Mind, body, and soul.

Babe, we’ve spoken every day for over five months, and contrary to what I thought, I’m not tired. How can I be? You’re my favourite person to talk to, the only text or call I genuinely look forward to every single day. There’s not one day that I don’t want to hear from you. As someone who is constantly chasing the next big or exciting thing to do, loving you excites me.

I love you very much, Ayanfe mi. And here are five more things that I love about you.

1. You call me your darling: I’ve never told you this before, but anytime I see a ‘good morning, my darling’ text from you or just any text where you call me your darling, my day is instantly made. I don’t know why. I guess it just sounds more endearing and personal. I love being your darling, my darling. So, cheers to being each other’s darling forever.

2. You give me hot gist: Yesterday is proof because omo! Crazy things are happening mehn. Let me use this opportunity to say that I genuinely enjoy listening to you. You’re such a great storyteller—whether it’s about politics, office drama, or random rants—any story sounds interesting when it comes from you. And it’s not just cos I’m in love with you. It’s actually because you know how to tell a good story, and you do it so well.

3. Your sense of humour: Another reason why I genuinely enjoy listening to you is that you have a great sense of humour and you’re naturally funny. And I mostly get your jokes, so up me. I just know I’m always going to have a good laugh with you.

4. You listen to my crazy long voice notes: As a professional talkative, I won mehn. I even pity you sometimes because I dey talk. At this point, I’ve turned you into my soundboard. Even if it’s rubbish cos I process my thoughts as I’m talking most times, you still listen. And honestly it helps me iron out my thoughts better. I remember how the voice notes I sent to you while preparing for my Orange application helped me clearly articulate what I was going to say during the interview. I listened to it over and over again. So, thank you for giving me a space to express my raw and sometimes unfinished thoughts. And cheers to the next 20+ minute voice note I’m going to send.

5. You support me: I can be quite impulsive when making decisions. Sometimes, I even make decisions that make no sense at the moment. So, having your support means a lot to me. It steadies me when I’m doubtful. You never talk down on my ideas or make me feel unreasonable. Thank you for always cheering me on, whether you understand what I’m doing or not.

Happy birthday in advance, love of my life.

I love you from head to neck (tori torun).

See you tomorrow!

1-5; 6-10

I only want two things in this world. I want you. And I want us.

One of the ways that I know that I’m hopelessly in love with you is that I’ve never craved anyone’s presence as much as I do yours. The phrase ‘I miss you’ was sparse in my vocabulary until I found you. I’ve never really said ‘I miss youuuuu’ and meant it deeply until this year, with you. Sometimes, I’m convinced that the way I feel when we haven’t seen each other in a while is the start of insanity. In other words, if I no see you, my head go dey do me like say I wan craze.

Baby, I love you. And here are five other things that I love about you.

1. You match my level of crazy: Seeeee. This is one of my favourite things about you. We’re two very heady drama queens. You no dey gree for me, I no dey gree for you, we no dey gree for each other. You’re more unserious than I am but at the core, we both don’t have sense. And I love it so much. You understand my jokes, know my quirks, and match my energy. But babe, you’re about to become a full adult. Be greeing for me sometimes. Allow me to have my way na.

2. You cook and cooked for me: 100 for you! Ntoor for my mummy and daddy becauseeee. My man cooks!!! He made a very delicious pepper soup for me, and he’ll still cook for me. Period. For very selfish reasons, of course I love that you can cook, not just boil water and indomie, but actual meals. And bonus points cos, you fed me chicken, even though you ate half of it. Toooh.

3. You allow me to be imperfect: I’m generally very aware of my flaws but not with you. You never put my mistakes all up in my face to make me feel less than myself. Instead, you deal with me with an open mind, give me grace, and love me regardless. I admire this so much and I hope I grow in showing this level of openness and understanding to you as well.

4. You’re expressive: I’ve never had to guess if you love me. You were clear from the start and always reassured me. Your openness has made it easy for me to grow in my level of expressiveness. You wear your heart on your sleeve and make it easy for me to do the same.

5. When I’m around you, I’m very comfortable and bubbly: A couple of years ago, I realised that I wanted to be with someone who brings out my inner child. Someone I can be silly with and around. I love how comfortable I am around you. And it’s because there’s no need for fear or overthinking when I’m around you. I can just be, without judgement. I know that my love and my heart is safe with you.

I get to love you. And it’s the best thing that’s happened to me.

I love you, baby. See you tomorrow!

1-5

Hi baby,

You came into my life with so much light. My days are instantly brighter when I think of you, talk to you, or I’m around you. I don’t want to imagine what the first almost half of 2026 would have been without you in it. It makes no sense. Thank you for coming into my life with so much vim, warmth, and love. You’re my perfect man.

And I wouldn’t trade what we have for a-n-y-t-h-i-n-g.

For the next couple of days leading up to your birthday, I’ll be sharing a couple of things that I really love about you. Honestly, it’s an inexhaustive list. So, I’ll try to compress them into 25, for the big 25!

1. Your beauty: I tell you this as often as I can. But in case you still think it’s just hype, it’s not. You’re a beautiful man, not just to me but anyone who has eyes, really. Have you seen your skin? Dark chocolate—the best! If staring at you was an employable skill, that’d be my job. I find you incredibly attractive and your face is a big part of that. And your hair?? What’s better than me having great hair and a perfect hairline? Having a man who has the same. I can’t wait to meet our gigantic haired babies cossss….. My babe is so fine and as a vain girl, this pleases me so much.

2. You’re so smart: This is something I find very attractive about you. Two BScs? And in two very technical courses - mathematics and computer? I’m never going to get over that. That’s so impressive. You’re so smart and I noticed that the first day I saw you in person. And this impresses me every time because I largely subscribe to the notion that it can be difficult for ladies to find guys their age who are on the same intellectual wavelength with them. But I found you, and I love you.

3. You say the sweetest things: Brooooo. I don’t think I understood the meaning of wooing until we started talking. You did a very good job btw. You have a very sweet mouth and I love it like that.

4. You’re lovechalant: I’ve always wanted to have a thoughtful gesture from a romantic partner. I thought about the many ways I’d want to be properly asked to be a girlfriend. So, you building an actual webpage and curating such a lovely playlist warmed my heart. You may act nonchalant about other things, but when it comes to our love, you’re chalant like mad and I love it so much.

5. You’re so annoying: just in case your head was swelling as I don dey praise you since, you’re actually very annoying. And I love it! I remember that when we first started talking, I was impressed. We had gone weeks without you irritating me and if you remember, my sister acknowledged how much of a Herculean task that typically is. But nowww…I can’t say the same. Apparently, that’s a good thing, so yeah. Keep being annoying!

Happy birthday in advance, babe. I love you so much.

See you tomorrow!

i’m fine

well, not really, actually

it started the 2nd of july

“girlfriend!” he said with a smile

and his palm on my cheeks

the beginning of our love story

our own “happily ever after.”

he said “i love you”

“hold on to me”

“i will never leave”

words weren’t enough to soothe

i yearned for more to negate thoughts ringing

“this too shall pass” in my ears

fear got hold of me

i had ruined everything

thoughts of him caused panic attacks

his loving seemed like a mirage

how do i know if he truly loved me

neither master a nor b did

master d did make efforts

he called to end things

it made me sad and lonely

i recalled our first meeting

our lip sync of burning desires

his arms around me as we walked the streets of lagos

the tingling embrace in the danfo

as we saw for the last time

while i waved him goodbye

that bade the end of our love story

these memories will live forever

striking in my head

i stumbled on this 5-year-old poem in my journal recently and wanted to share. i was going through a heartbreak and writing was one of things helped me heal. tell me, have you ever been heartbroken? how did you get through it?

what's the worst that can happen?

i wasn't new to this. i did the same thing in 2023. i remember crying my eyes out in the restroom at topyougo because i had no idea what i'd do with my life after nysc and i had resigned.

i hate the idea of settling for less than i know i'm capable of. i'm a scaredy cat. i'm also a control freak and therefore, i hate uncertainty.

so, where does that leave me?

right at the centre of a ballroom, dancing horribly to this music i absolutely detest.

fear is an unreliable dance partner.

sometimes the feeling of fear is exactly what you need to do the things that burn in your heart. other times, it's the stubborn nail that grabs a part of your garment and threatens to rip you naked if you dare to move. i have played this game before and lost. not this time.

in january, i reached out to 10 people who had previously received a scholarship i wanted to apply for. i asked for details only people who had taken the course would have, tips to ace the interview, and more.

in february i got the scholarship.

while waiting for the panel to start on the day of the interview, i got so anxious. since i struggled to stay still, i plugged my ears and paced around the corridor while humming to "be bold" by gird music repeatedly until i was a bit calm.

"bolu, have i not said… be bold and courageous, every step your foot will claim, i have already made it yours…"

in march, i felt a pull towards something more. 5 years ago, i was a confused final year student studying philosophy. today, i've built a solid 4-year career in comms with experience in content strategy, ux writing, content writing and marketing, seo, public relations, and more. i understand what it feels like to be confused. so, i created an account on calendly and asked people to sign up for a 1:1 clarity session with me. i almost gave in to fear. i delayed acting on the idea for over a week. one week later, over 12 people have booked. i've successfully provided clarity/spoken to 9.

audacity is the name of the game.

• dr. lanaire aderemi

• temilade salami

• dr. vee kativhu

these three women are my top three favourite people in the whole world. they are my picture of possibilities, proof that i can walk on water without sinking. they are everything i want to be and more: audacious, free, a doctor of communications working for and with international agencies, etc. and just like them, i want to look extremely good while doing it.

last week, one of my clarity callers said "i just want to know how you did it." she wanted to know how i had the courage to send cringe emails to top digital marketing agencies in 2022 and asked them to hire me. to be honest, i just did. courage is never the absence of fear. in fact, it is action in the face of it.

in 2026, nike it all the way.

just do it. pitch yourself to that company or ceo. apply for that opportunity. monetise your knowledge. share your first post on substack.

but what if they say no? what if nobody buys? what if i get zero likes?

valid. very, very valid points. but how else will you build resilience? how else will you learn and develop your skills? how else will you learn to serve your target audience better? how else will you learn to be bold?

on a more optimistic note, what if you fly? what if you become a badass?

remember, fortune favours the bold.

book a 1:1 career clarity session with me here: link

this video is a literal masterclass on how to be audacious and engineer your success: link

author's note: i made a couple of aspirational note stacks 3 weeks ago and that's how many of you found me.

welcome! currently, i do not work with the united nations or have a fully funded scholarship to study abroad. however, i desire them. my hope is that you get to congratulate me again soon, but for real this time, especially as i take you on my journey there through my substack.

this space is all about discovering yourself through audacity in your 20s.

i hope you love it here.❤️

The driver’s bark cuts through her thoughts: “Your money, line by line!”

She adjusts her bag onto her lap and rummages through it for the ₦1,200 she’d set aside for the trip. Just then, the danfo speeds into a pothole, and the jolt throws her forward—her head nearly colliding with the dashboard.

She shoots the driver a disgusted look, hoping for even the smallest hint of an apology. Instead, he turns to her and yells, “Sister, where your money?”

Annoyed, she screams at him in disbelief: “Ahn ahn. Abi, you’re mad, ni? Is it until I hit my head on something? What kind of driving is this one?” Then she hisses and throws the money at him. Everybody is just mad in this Lagos, Bolanle concludes.

The driver’s face twists. He screams back, “Wait o! Who be this ‘opelenge’? Na your mate you dey talk to? I get pikin like you for house. Be like say you dey mad. You don craze finish. You go like comot for my bus!”

Immediately, other passengers jump in, trying to advocate for Bolanle. She knew deep down they were only concerned about getting to their destination on time.

The driver stops the bus, marches towards her, and instructs her to come down.

Bolanle hesitates. Then she adjusts the strap of her bag gently on her shoulders and stretches her hand to pick up her ₦1,200. There’s no way she’s going to lose her ride and money at the same time.

She steps down carefully, rolling her eyes at him as he pushes her to close his door. All the while, the passengers are shouting, “Oga, move this motor now.” “Why did I enter this kind of bus now?” “Driver, get back into this bus and get us out of here.”

The driver makes his way to his seat, starts the engine, and zooms off.

Thank God I got my money at least, Bolanle thinks to herself, and sighs. As she stares ahead, she realizes the journey to getting another bus will take about 20 minutes. She sighs again and bursts into tears.

What kind of life is this, abeg? This Lagos is not for the weak; she resigns.

Then, you heap bite-sized charcoals into the space allotted for them.

The next step is to get a bunch of dry sticks.

Don’t forget to break them into a bunch of tiny pieces

Sprinkle carefully around the charcoal as you would seasoning inside a pot of stew.

Now, we need us some fuel.

Scatter small drops all over the burning agents.

Get your matches.

Snap!

Straight it goes into the concortion, familiarizing itself with the mix.

Our fire is here.

Does it stop there?

Ab-so-lutely not!

Let us cook.

Now lift your pot of food and place it gently on the stove.

Where is that hand fan?

Pick it up.

Get to work.

Fan that thing like your survival depends on it.

Because how you go chop if this thing no cook?

This happened on a phone call between 9:30 pm and 1 am.

Her: So, what are we?

Him: Hmmm, I don’t know. What do you mean? Are we not friends?

Her: Right! Well…hmmm. How do I say this… Do you remember when you told me that you liked me 5 years ago? I think it was during lockdown. I was what? Maybe 19?

Him: Uhm…uhm.

Her: Do you still feel that way about me? Cos I think I like you too… And honestly, I’m not sure when it started. I just know that I can’t stop thinking about you these days…the possibility of us ending up together.

Him: He sits up on his bed

Her: Okay… So I guess what I’m trying to say is that. I like you. I appreciate you.

I like how you stayed in my life even when I sort of rejected your advances years ago and how we stayed friends still. Yes, we had our off days, but you never made me feel uncomfortable for rejecting you. Shola, I like that you’re steady, grounded, and level-headed.

She paces the room as she speaks, each step heavy with anxiety and hope.

I love that you listen to me rant and express myself as freely as possible without interruptions. Gosh, I love that you listen to me; you have no idea what that means to me. I sometimes feel like I’m too much, but you never, ever, make me feel that way. And I hate that it’s taken me this long to see you, but I’m glad you stayed.

Shola, I want to be with you. I’m sorry for being this upfront and direct, but if there’s a chance that this could work, I want to explore it. I want to hold your hands, knowing that you’re mine. I want to look into your eyes with nothing but admiration and brush your beard tenderly with my fingertips because, honestly, I hate tangled beards. She chuckles.

I want to share moments where I laugh out really loud and maybe even fall off my seat when I’m talking to you and watch you watch me with delight because even though you know that I can be a lot, you love my “a lot.”

Him: pin drop silence

Her: Heyyy… Are you still there?

Him: He sighs softly, stands from his bed, paces, and nervously takes a seat on the chair close to him.

Her: See, I get that this might be a lot to take in, but can you say something? Anything?

Him: I’m not sure what to say, Bolu. Wow? He chuckles nervously

Her: Fine, whatever! You don’t like me back. That’s fine. I get it. It’s been years—so it makes sense if your feelings have changed.

Him: Wait…no! I like you, Bolu. I’ve always liked you, and I may never be able to stop liking you. I think it’s your charm. I find you very charming.

I love how real and expressive you are. You’re smart. Oh, Bolu, I don’t think you realize how smart you are. I learn so much whenever I listen to you. I know I don’t talk much, but that’s because I enjoy listening to you. I enjoy hearing you rant and talk about your experiences with childlike excitement.

It’s why I’ve stayed, because even if I don’t get to experience you as a lover, I want you in my life. If that means we’ll just be friends, that’s fine.

Her: So, you want us to remain just friends?

Him: What? No! Not after all that. Bolu, will you be my girlfriend?

Her: She chuckles softly, of course. Mr. Oloruninshola, I’ll be your girlfriend, but…

Him: Please, please. But what?

Her: I’ll be your girlfriend, but I want you to ask me properly. Not online. Not over a phone call. I want a gesture. We could go out on a date, and you could get me a bouquet. Let’s just do something to mark it. It doesn’t have to be today, sha. No pressure. But I’d like it if we deliberately marked the start of our relationship with one. Does that make sense?

Him: Of course! Do you want it as a surprise?

Her: Hmmm. I don’t think I like surprises, but I guess that could work.

Him: Okay, got it. My girlfriend doesn’t like surprises. He laughs

Her: Yes, boyfriend. She chuckles

Him: Right! So, how do you feel?

Her: I’m not sure. I’m just glad that we’re here. But, like. I don’t know how to be a girlfriend. I haven’t done this in four years, and the ones I did weren’t that serious. What if I mess it up? Oh my god, what if you piss me off or I piss you off? How come you’ve never pissed me off before? I get irritated easily. Are you sure we can do this? I’m scared.

Him: I get that. But we get along pretty well as friends, and I know this is new for us, but we’ll figure it out. I promise.

Her: Alright, I trust you. Please let me know if I piss you off, okay? I can be a lot to handle sometimes.

Him: You won’t piss me off, don’t worry. And if you do, we’ll have an honest conversation about it and both do better.

Her: Alright, alright. I love… Wait, can we start saying “I love you”? I know it’s early, but it just seemed like that was the next thing to say, and I actually do. She pauses and breathes in and out. Thank you for being patient with me, Shola.

Him: I love you, Bolu. I look forward to the rest of our lives together.

Her: She screams. Oh my goddddd. I have a man!!!

Him: He laughs on the other end. Yes, you do!

This short story is purely a product of my imagination. Any resemblance to real-life experiences is coincidental. While I haven’t lived this moment myself, I wanted to explore what it might feel like to cross that awkward but beautiful line between friendship and love. It’s short, sweet, and raw, and I’m sharing it here with little to no editing. It’s my first draft. Let me know what you think. I hope you enjoyed reading. If you did, subscribe for more!

Many things come with being Nigerian. But one thing that cuts across every experience, no matter your age, class, or gender, is that it traumatizes you.

I know this might be stale news for you. But I have a bad personality trait; if I haven't experienced something firsthand, it doesn’t feel real. It's why, when I witnessed police officers brutally arrest Okada drivers at Lucky Fibre last year, I was appalled. They pursued them, hit them, and snatched their bikes, not on a highway or “main road” but within a community. They had parked at the bus stop, close to a highway, to help people commute in and out. I stood on one side of the road, tears welling in my eyes, shocked and then furious at how anyone could treat a fellow human being like an animal. I was angry because there was nothing I could do. I remembered #EndSARS and thought, “Oh wow, is this what everyone was talking about?” That was the first time I witnessed police brutality, aside from the typical asking for bribes and causing traffic on the road.

Last month, I witnessed another kind of injustice, and this time my anger turned to shame. I was embarrassed by myself. This was a case where I could have intervened. Instead, I stood by, playing out a movie in my head of what it would be like to act, while I did nothing at all.

That morning, I boarded a keke heading to Ikorodu. We were a few passengers short, so the driver pulled over to pick up two men. The vehicle only had space for one more, but the driver insisted they both get in, instructing one of the men to "lap" the young schoolgirl already seated. She couldn't have been more than 13. At that moment, I knew I was supposed to say something, but it seemed like a cat had my tongue. I kept quiet and tried to rationalize his actions. I thought, "Maybe he's trying to save her money and won't charge her fare. That's fair."

The men got off at an earlier bus stop. When we arrived at the girl's bus stop, she handed the driver a ₦1,000 note. He handed her back ₦500, basically charging the full fare. For the one or two minutes that he looked for change from other passengers, I knew I had to say something. Anything to make sure she didn't leave feeling cheated. I was angry, but mostly, I was consumed by shame. I will always be ashamed for not showing that girl what it means to stand up for yourself as a woman and speak against injustice in a society that is so deeply misogynistic.

That day, it was as if a veil was lifted from my eyes. I saw the deep-seated injustice that defines our country, a mud hill that termites of corruption and cruelty have eaten into. It has made a home here; it's now in our DNA. How is it okay for an officer to snatch an okada man's livelihood without a real offense? Tell me, which world is it normal for a stranger to choose to lap a girl child without her consent? And why are people packed like sardines in BRT buses, standing for a two-hour journey with no proper ventilation?

The injustice is everywhere. If it’s not our government embezzling national funds, it’s the officers collecting bribes to do the jobs they’re paid for. It is a reality that we have all, in one way or another, chosen to live with.

Buhari bullied us into silence. Tinubu is driving us crazy. Our government robs us, and our authorities are not normal. But the most painful part is that this culture of unkindness has trickled down to us. We've become bullies to one another. The driver who exploits a schoolgirl, the other passengers who stay silent—we have become a reflection of the system that oppresses us.

For a moment, I felt like a sheet of paper, limp on a table, soaked through with water. Fragile. If anyone tried to touch me, I imagined myself tearing apart, just like it would.

My eyes welcomed tears as easily as the earth would after years of drought. My legs hurt. My knees were weak. And in that moment, the thought returned: If I had a hundred dollars for every time I’ve thought about how exhausted I’ve been this past week, I’d have a pretty lucrative side hustle by now.

I’m tired.

The words rolled off my tongue with genuine sadness. I now spend over 7 hours commuting to work every day I go to work. I go in four consecutive days per week, so that’s at least 28 hours of my life stuck in traffic. Every time I think about it, I’m overwhelmed by the realization that some of the earliest years of my life—my prime—may be wasting away.

All for what?

To work at a reputable company and build a “solid” career foundation, even though I live in Ikorodu and still can’t afford an apartment?

Today, on the bus, I whispered a quiet but sincere prayer: God, I don’t want to do this anymore. Can I get another job?

Earlier this week, I told a friend I wanted to quit, but I also said maybe it’s just the Gen Z in me—the part that lacks staying power, that wants to jump around and try something new because of “boredom.”

Honestly, I don’t even know what I want you to take away from this.

I just wanted to say I’m exhausted.

I’m tired of the long, draining hours I spend in Lagos traffic. While I want to prove to myself that I have staying power and genuinely enjoy my current workplace, I wish the commute was not so difficult.

I wish Lagos was not so overcrowded.

I wish bus conductors/agberos would stop screaming—it’s deafening.

I wish trailers would stop doing Formula 1 on the road with the bus I’m in.

I wish there wasn’t so much traffic.

I wish I had a hybrid job that paid better.

And I wish I didn’t live in a place that is so razz—Ikorodu.

Are you in total awe of how much you've grown?

Do you recognize the tiny-faced person staring back at you with such wide-eyed naivety that you almost want to slap the heck out of yourself? Like, bro, wake up! We're in Nigeria!

My parents tell me I was a gentle child—the kind that hardly cried or inconvenienced anyone. All they had to do was give me a little food, and I'd lie on the rug and fall asleep.

They tell me a lot of stories like that. Stories that make me believe I grew up shy, soft-spoken, and... mid. (Definitely not their intention, but yeah.)

And for the longest time, I tried to fit into that character. I wanted to be exactly who they said I was—quiet, easygoing, digestible.

But recently, I stumbled on some of my baby pictures—especially the ones where I'm smiling, bright-eyed, a little goofy. And every time I see photos like that, something stirs in me. The girl in those pictures feels familiar. Like I know her. Like I am her—Clumsy. Bubbly. Joyful. Talkative. Curious. Sometimes dramatic.
That’s me. That’s always been me.

As children, we start wide-eyed and eager. We feel like we belong. We take up space—loudly, joyfully, without apology.

But somewhere along the line, many of us lose that version of ourselves. We sit face-to-face with the wickedness in this world, and our innocence is snatched from our very tender hands—quietly, violently.

So we retreat. We shrink. We forget how to laugh from the belly, how to dance without thinking, how to just be.

One of my deepest desires as I turn a new age next month is to learn to be comfortable with who I know myself to be. I want to fully come into myself. To be the girl in these pictures all over again: Happy. Carefree. Loud. Joyful.

I want to be just a girl. Not the girl with x amount of degrees. Not the girl getting married. Not the girl who’s “crushing it” in her career. I don’t want to be the girl performing for the world’s validation while forgetting the things that matter most to her.

So I’ll end this with one of my favorite reminders: I’m just a girl.

And I’ll always be just a girl—no matter what.

This is your permission to just be, without the titles the world confers on you: Daughter. Son. First child. Team lead. MSc holder. Lawyer. Managing director. Designer. Teacher. Writer. Expert.

So let yourself be that person.
The world will catch up.

Till next time,

Go be your truest self.

Tried my hands at fiction for the first time. Read it here!

Kunle is getting married today.

Most people think that I met Kunle during my “second” extra year at the University of Lagos. See, I was young and foolish, a woman with many vices. But Kunle? Kunle was my virtue. We were two peas in a pod, and I grew very fond of him—the kind of fondness that clings like the lines on your palm.

We slept together, bathed together, ate together, and went to school together in our jalopy—the one we used our nine-plus months after-school fallback savings to buy off his favorite lecturer.

One of my favorite things about Kunle is his kindness. Even to his detriment, he would stick his neck out for the people he loved. So when he told me that we should use our savings as an exchange for this man’s car, I didn’t complain.

Before you call me stupid, I need you to understand that I had resigned my life to Kunle. In him I lived, moved, breathed. For him, I existed. Nothing made sense outside of him. He was the reason I lived and how I made sense of my existence.

He promised to marry me.

One night, I asked Kunle when we would get married.

Things were finally looking up for us. UNILAG had decided to release me. I worked as a marketing specialist at an agency in Ikeja, Lagos.

Kunle graduated top of his class, served at a top oil firm—Chevron, and even got retained.

That night, we reminisced on the first time our paths collided.

I was in 300L and I was crying by the infamous lagoon front in UNILAG after seeing an F in my results for the first time in my life. As I stood up to leave, our eyes met. He was sitting in a boat by the shore, staring at me. Honest to God, I thought he was a fisherman. I dried my tears, stood up, and walked away.

A few moments later, I heard someone running after me, trying to get my attention. As I turned to look, I saw a charming, tall, beautiful young man making his way towards me. There was something calm but striking about his presence. His skin reminded me of a mix between Top Tea and Hollandia triangle milk—chocolatey. He smelled like Kopiko, my favorite coffee candy.

We exchanged numbers that day. Our friendship was inconsistent for about two years, mostly because I wasn’t in a good headspace, but it lingered, like his scent.

Our meeting was magical. I met the love of my life by the riverside and was going to have a beautiful rest of my life with him.

It will not be well with you, Kunle!!!

I hadn’t slept or eaten well since their proposal pictures went viral. Still, I got dressed that morning, took a Bolt, and told myself I just needed to see it with my own eyes. Maybe for closure. Maybe to believe it was real.

As I walked into the church, I felt the weight of everyone’s eyes piercing through my pale skin. The hall was full, the air thick with whispers and wonder. I didn’t need to guess; they were judging my outfit.

My corset dress—a black bridal fabric I had custom-made for this event—almost took my breath away. The slit ran so high it almost betrayed that I had no underwear on. My gladiator red heels knotted perfectly just below my knees.

I wasn’t invited. I didn’t need to be.

I made my way to a seat in the seventh row from the front, and for a moment, I imagined walking to the aisle to have a little conversation with Kunle. What would I say to him?

He had ghosted me since he left for that company-sponsored field trip two years ago. No goodbye. No closure. Well, except for that one voice note. “Bumblebee, I’ll call you when I land. You know how these work trips can be. Don’t miss me too much.” I tried calling and texting him on WhatsApp for months after that; no response. I replayed that voice note for probably a year. The soft laugh at the end. A small part of me—the foolish, hopeful part—believed it was all a prank. That one day he’d show up, ring my doorbell, and laugh, “You really thought I’d leave you?”

“Why, Kunle?” I imagined myself whispering. “Why didn’t you say goodbye?”

“You know life doesn’t always go as planned,” I imagined him saying.

I opened our shared Google Photos album, full of school escapades and after-school dates. I stared intently, wishing that the Kunle that I knew loved me would walk up to me and lead me to the aisle instead.

I kept it together till the matrimonial service ended. But something snapped as I reached the church steps on my way out. The tears, the ache, the betrayal—it all spilled out at once.

Ahh! It will not be well with you, Kunle!

And still, I loved him.

Maybe that’s the part I’ll never forgive myself for.

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I'm a control freak. I want to know the what, where, how, and why of my life.

As you can imagine, trying to control my outcomes and know everything about the future now causes me a great deal of emotional anxiety, stress, and sometimes trauma.

The other day, I came across a piece of content where a few people shared how they’ve had to let go of the expectations they once had about reaching certain milestones early in life. It resonated deeply with me.

My education was faster and more unique than what’s typical. I started school from KG 2 because apparently, I knew too much at around 2 years old to start from KG 1. I was always one of the smartest in primary school, so I took my common entrance exams in Primary 4. Even though I barely passed, I jumped straight to JSS 1. That’s where everything took a turn. Suddenly, I started struggling with school. Being far from home didn’t help.

In SS1, I started to get better. I excelled at Maths and Economics, and sometimes Government. At 14, I was done with secondary school.

ASUU did their thing, yet I still had my first degree by 20. At 23, I’ve completed NYSC and an MSc., with about three years of corporate experience under my belt.

Obviously, there’s been a trajectory of speed, which I’ve come to expect to continue. But this pressure I’ve put on myself — to achieve things at a certain age — is doing more harm than good. This expectation that good things should happen faster for me than they typically do for others is starting to feel unrealistic.

It often robs me of the ability to enjoy the process, to take stock of my growth, and to evaluate how far I’ve come.

I had a conversation with my friend Bolu this morning. As usual, I was ranting to him about work.

See, I like working in PR. It’s a lot of pressure, but I genuinely like the work — even when I don’t enjoy it. I’m fascinated by how we have the responsibility, as PR practitioners, to build and sustain the reputation of top brands. In my company’s case, that means brands like Netflix, Oando, NNPC, Aradel Holdings, the Gates Foundation, WISCAR, FREEE Recycle, VISA, and more.

However, most times, I want to tap out. It’s a lot of learning at once. I have to learn how to do my job well, manage my relationships with colleagues, build solid relationships with journalists (who can be very frustrating), and navigate dynamics with my boss and team lead. Honestly, it gets hard, and I just want to run away.

So when my friend told me to take it easy and give myself grace, I felt seen. Everything he said made me realize that the decades of experience I’ll be able to boast about in the future are being shaped by what I’m going through now. The solid advice I’ll be able to give younger professionals one day will be built on how I handle these current situations and the lessons I draw from them.

He said, “Just do your job, and do it well.”

This paragraph from Ifeoma B. Nwobu’s newsletter sums up everything I’ve been trying to say in this piece:

"Bolu, the greater your vision, the farther things will appear and the blurrier your immediate sight of what will be, will be. You were never meant to know it all, all at once. You were not always meant to plan. Sometimes, your biggest duty is simply to participate. And that is your advantage — to be able to submit to a process and discover entire truths in parts. Run with it, instead of resisting. It is one of the ways you will be free from the gruesome hold of anxiety and the fear of not knowing what, why, or how."

As I resume work tomorrow, I’ll remember that I have just one responsibility: to do my job and do it well.

Life gets somehow, especially since we’re doing this for the first time. Unlike school exams, there’s no resitting this one. Once you fail at it, that’s the end. Or at least, that’s what it feels like.

But as my queen rightly said:

"Ultimately, those who win are those who have learned to walk steady in the midst of contradictions, because somehow it creates in them an unusual capacity to act on the little nudges and follow the still small voices even when uncertainty abounds. Especially when uncertainty abounds."

I love my parents for many reasons. They're mostly affirming; there's technically no amount of money they wouldn't spend on my education or advancement, and they're super funny. There's literally no way you'll have a dull moment with them.

Two specific ways they add joy to my life come to mind.

First Scenario:

Recently, I realized that the sometimes crazy ambitions I have are fueled and enabled by my parents, and here’s what I mean.

On-site workdays usually go like this: I wake up by 5:30 a.m., leave between 6 and 6:30, get to work around 9, close by 5, and get home before 9:30 p.m.

After this obviously very long day, jumping danfo in Lagos and dealing with ridiculous and insensible Lagosians, I walk into my compound, and guess what?

My parents are sitting outside, and the moment I enter, they start chanting things like “My CEO,” “Managing Director,” “Minister of Works,” and more.

Typically, I smile or not (depending on my mood), greet them briefly, and walk into the house. But deep down, my heart is full and giddy, and I genuinely look forward to that moment every time.

Nigerian parents can be annoying sometimes, but truly, there’s love at home.

Second Scenario:

Last year, 2024, I had a quarrel with my dad over money. I had lent him some money that I needed for transportation to work. I gave him a timeline to refund it so I could make the commute.

Anyway, the day came, and he didn’t give it back. Instead, he told me to call the office and say I wouldn’t be coming. I was pissed. I gave him a piece of my mind when I had the chance.

I also explained to him that I work with a strict budget. Honestly, I’m not at a point where I can lend money and forget it.

Ever since then, my dad has changed my name to “Budget.” Whenever we’re discussing money, he deliberately calls me “Budget” to reference that quarrel and jokingly tells me he’s also “on a budget.”

It’s honestly always funny, and it’s now an inside joke.

In conclusion, my parents are funny, sometimes crazy, often annoying, and I like their energy most of the time.

I'm finally falling in love with reading as a hobby.

I love how it engages my brain better than social media and its short-form content ever could. It introduces me to new words and provides a depth of knowledge about different topics, depending on the type of book I'm reading. It allows me to see certain social issues from the interesting perspective of the writer. It makes me laugh. It makes me feel very deeply. It introduces me to characters that have now become my friends, the ones that piss me off, and the ones whose memories I never want to let go of.

Reading is finally becoming my thing, a safe space, and a hobby, and I hope it stays that way.

Here's my reading list:

1. The Joy of Supernatural Thinking - Completed (3 times)

2. 25 Lies To Stop Believing in Your 20s - Completed

3. Empowered by Vee - Completed

4. The Girl with the Louding Voice - Completed

5. A Broken People's Playlist - Completed

6. Amazing Results of Positive Thinking - Completed

7. My Sister is a Serial Killer - Completed

8. Bridge to Haven - Completed

9. Tough times never last; tough people do - Completed

10. The Richest Man in Babylon - Completed

11. Clueless to Success - Completed

12. The Minister & His Damsel - Completed

13. Daughters Who Walked the Path - Completed

14. Atonement Child - Completed

15. Have Faith in God - In Progress

16. 21 Irrefutable Laws of Leadership - In Progress

17. Attached - In Progress

18. Can't Hurt Me - In Progress

19. Secret Lives of Baba Segi's Wives - In Progress

20. Do Epic Shit - Not Started

21. Where Love Visits - Not Started

22. Summer - Not Started

23. A Fragile Enchantment - Not Started

Here’s my to-buy list:

1. A Lineage of Grace

2. Allow me to Introduce Myself

3. Tomorrow I Become a Woman

4. How to Talk to Anyone

5. Unfuck Yourself

6. Waiting and Dating

7. The Psychology of Laziness

8. An Enemy Called Average

Cheers to more reading!

Have you read any of the books on my list? Do you have any recommendations? Tell me in the comments.