Blood sucking demons Mosquitoes, lice, and bed bugs, you hate them all. Yesterday, you swatted an overly excited anopheles with your bare hands, but it danced out of your grasp, singing the same annoying song you didn’t want to hear. You clapped for it, hoping that the performance would end, but she went ahead to…
The period when women were told to be silent in the church was over. This was what Aunty thought before returning home to Naija. Unpacking her luggage, she thought about the foremost thing she wanted to do. She would show up in church, the home church she’d been nostalgic about in the UK. Life as…
In Another Man’s Land (Episode 3) Mondays were made to be hellish for the working class. The unarmed forces of the NYSC were not excluded, especially those who got to act as teachers. The first day Linda stepped into the joint primary 3 A and B class, she had been ushered in by the bald…
If uniqueness was all about the name, you should start wondering why you can find at least ten people with the same name as you in the country where you reside. The only man that God gave the name that is greater than all other names still has namesakes. Look up the internet for a…
“I’m not here for any ritual. I’m here for something different,” the man said in his calm voice. His thick voice had to be censored so as not to pass the wrong message. His son, the direct opposite in that aspect, had no trouble trying to sound calm. “Stop pretending Step-daddy. I’ve talked to your…
The last three Church Chronicles didn’t cause trouble like some others. I remember ‘Aunty Feminist Goes to Church” doing a number of things to readers. ‘Drip Drip’ was breezy and light, Through your eyes was one story that sought to capture different lives that could be seen from different angles.
It is understandable now that we are in women’s history month to talk about a woke subject–feminism. It was scary and somewhat brave to broach this topic, as it is a sensitive one that is more often than not spoken about among church ladies. It’s not for a lack of them not being aware of…
“Who are you? Why are you here? Are you the one he sent to kill me?” Bimbo asked, teary-eyed. “No, Bimbo.” The Holy Spirit sent me here. Even I don’t understand why I’m here.”
I’m living my best life. Freshly squeezed bitterleaf juice in one hand, thoughts of recent events in my head, and the soft melody of soothing voices from my radio kept me snuggled in the corner of my bed. I watched the rays of light that I hoped would touch my yellowing philodendron bounce off and…
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…
