My Hormones are betraying me The air in the newsroom was cool, almost cold, a sharp contrast to the scorching Abuja sun beating against the glass exterior. Ada scrolled through another pitch about “godly wife material,” her thumb pressing down on the mouse like she was crushing a scorpion. Half a year since she’d extricated…
Church Chronicles is currently on its 7th lap. That means we have seven whopping stories with “Church Chronicles” as its umbrella. But right now, we’re taking a short pause to reflect. It’s just right to say we’re on Sabbath. We want reviews of any of the Church Chronicles to date from you, our reader. Don’t…
The day gave birth to the night The moon swagged in the air In a world full of darkness Light wraps me up in its flame. My sanity drove them crazy My purity brought them harm They are irritated by my power Disgusted at my move to empower. Insult were sent, rumours was brewed Traps…
RECITATION, a Mount Zion movie written, produced and directed by Damilola Mike-Bamiloye, was yet to be released and was being premiered at my roomie’s church. I had to jump on her invite. You know, anything to spice up my outwardly boring life during the short school break. It was my first time at a movie…
Prayers, prayers… On returning Home “Ah, Yemisi ti de patapata!” An excited acquaintance or neighbour would echo when told the news of your seemingly final return home from school. And after that would follow a stream of prayers which you have to shout “Amen” to. Not doing so might mean contempt of the human and the…
Have you ever had a knot in your chest that you cannot make head or tail of? Or you know you are badly in need of solitude. Or you have ideas in your head that you need to make into a concrete plan. You might just need to ask yourself some right questions that would…
Dear Ma, I was twenty when I found your voice on radio, Irin Ajo Eda on Raze FM. I still remember the rhythm of your laughter that floated between adverts, the pauses that carried more truth than words. You lived up to your name: Adetayo, obinrin ti n b’afefe rin, the woman who soars with…
Bimbo threw the clothes from the previous day’s washing off the wooden chair opposite her bed. She picked up the medium-sized music box off the table and sat on the chair. She cradled it in her hands like a most prized treasure, closed her eyes and smiled sadly. Bimbo opened her eyes as if she…
Favour tried to dismiss the guilty feelings that beclouded her thoughts and focused on the important things to do.
“Sister Bimbo,” he called, before realizing that he didn’t know what appropriate prefix to add to her name. “Sister Bimbo,” he called again. He placed his ear on the door to listen to whatever she had to say. All he heard was the loud song.
