Razzmatazz: Of Air Conditioners and Mother Tongues

I will take you to three places.

First, to an office reception, some years ago, where I sat with my aunt, shivering. I did not have a fever. I was shivering because the air conditioner was set to a temperature of 16 degrees. Please note that the average outdoor temperature is 27 degrees.

When asked if the temperature could be adjusted, the receptionist gave us a cold ‘no’, that it was just fine. I was in utter confusion because she was visibly uncomfortable as well, as I could see her trying to keep warm, rubbing her palms together. read more...


Hi guys. It’s been a minute.

Like a lot of millennials, I have my own small scale business and I will now proceed to do some shameless advertising. I’m available to bake amazing cakes for all occasion. I have a business event coming soon and I am already stressed in advance, thinking of the physical work ahead.

I’ve had an interesting timeline.

In my first year I tried out lots of new things. It was exciting testing out a cake design for the first time and getting it right. Getting cake orders from out of state. Getting positive feedback from customers. Also, because I had been a victim of terrible customer service, I was willing to bend over backwards for my customers. I do not recommend. read more...


One of my least favorite things to do is cross the road.

This time last year, I was hit by a vehicle and broke my hip and one of my legs. I was in the hospital for some weeks, and also had to spend a few months at home.


The first thing I remember is pain: the worst pain I had felt in my life, when a doctor worked to immobilize my broken leg. Later, my sister told me she had never heard me scream that way, and I don’t even recall screaming. It was mostly a painful blur.

The first days were filled with so much uncertainty. I remember there were times when it seemed like the terror and pain would suffocate me. I tried to keep it together those first days. Then I was told I’d have to be admitted in the hospital for at least six weeks and that I would need surgery and I started to cry. I just wanted to go home. read more...


While my mates spent this extended Easter break reading for our forthcoming MB 2 exams, I was away at Ondo State for my cousin’s wedding, doing a lot of wining, dining and dancing. My plan was to eat my life away and deal with the consequences later.

Before we took off, I had to dash to get my asoebi dress, because the best clothes are gotten from your tailor at the dying minute, on the very day you need it, or at best a day before. If you get your cloth anything earlier than that, you should know that your tailor didn’t give it their best shot. read more...


It is without regret or remorse that I admit that one of the things I would miss the most after medical school is the 24 hour electricity I enjoy in my hostel, a perk of being in the hospital premises.

But because this is Nigeria and we don’t do 24 hour electricity, there needs to be occasional power outage. The most recent one was these past couple of days, and the nights were indeed dark and full of terror. I even had time to do ridiculous things like go for a walk. I can only hope the siege is over. NEPA abeg. read more...



No, this is not a post about Oprah. This is about procrastination.

I am a seasoned procrastinator who has had all kinds of streaks. I once wrote an article for a whole year. I have been reading Rich Dad Poor Dad for about 3 years now and sometimes, I procrastinate even after the deadline has passed. I have seen some pretty dark times.

I would like to say I have been a procrastinator for as long as I can remember, but that would not be true. I wasn’t always like this. There was a time I read and did my work when I was supposed to. I was the pride and joy of my Physics teacher. read more...


Once at an academic seminar, as a part of the closing speech, the girls were advised not to gather too many certificates and degrees, because we were going to get married. I waited to hear a similar admonition to the boys. I am still waiting.

Yesterday was International Women’s Day, a day that usually has me excited because… women!  There was also a lot more feminism in the air, which as expected made a number of people uncomfortable.

It is my utmost desire that you were not that person asking shameful questions like ‘What about International Men’s day?’ or ‘How many Women’s Day are there sef‘? These are very low-yield, 2/10 questions and I do not recommend. read more...


Happy new month people!

Sometime last month, I was invited to an elementary school to speak at their Career Day. The children were asked to come dressed as their future selves, and it was so heartwarming to see lots of beautiful children dressed as footballers, bankers, teachers and firefighters. It was extremely cute and I might have been in my feelings.

The highlight for me, after the food and money, was this girl dressed as a ‘police-girl’, saying she planned to transform the very corrupt police force. read more...


It has been 12 days since a cabman sped away with my 50 Naira change, leaving me dumbfounded by the roadside, wondering what I had done in my life to deserve such injustice.

He was wearing a blue washed-out polo shirt and I will never forget his face.

I pride myself as a sharp girl so you must know that this runaway cabman must have been a professional. While in the cab, I gave him my fare when I was about a minute away from my destination, because my parents taught me never to pay at the beginning of a trip. When I asked him for my change, he told me to be patient. read more...


I remember seeing a picture that said ‘it’s okay if we forget each other’s birthdays because we’re all adults’. Or something like that. I laughed and forwarded the picture to my friends, reminding them that that was far from the truth, and it would be rather unfortunate if they forgot my birthday.

It was my birthday some days ago and I was very grateful to be alive and surrounded by people who I cherished.


As a way of reflection, I listened to Gavin DeGraw’s “I Don’t Wanna Be” (what I call the song of my youth) and went through a journal from 4 years ago, smiling at some of the now seemingly ridiculous things I wrote. read more...