The Naz Affair

 Growing up, one of my biggest fears was making friends. Sounds crazy, right? Most kids at certain age are eager to meet and make new friends. Well, that's why I like to think myself, a special breed– limited edition. If I got a ten Naira note for every ' "what's wrong?" "why are you frowning?" "you look sad!" "who got you upset?" "brighten your face!" "you should smile often!"' questions and remarks I got growing up to this very moment, I probably would have a million or two stacked up somewhere. And no, I'm not exaggerating. People often say  "Nobody is an island."  I smile each time I hear that and tell myself, It's simply because because they are yet to experience me.  How do I explain to anyone who genuinely cares to understand that I easily get bored around people and come alive when I am all by myself?  Somehow, solitude energizes me in ways company can't.  Make it make sense if yo...

 A broken relationship they said is better than a broken marriage but they failed to tell you what is worst than a broken heart. A heart that has over time learned to love, care, beat and yearn for a particular person, suddenly, is being forced to ignore, to pretend like nothing ever happened, to act unbothered around one it once longed for. Heartbreak is embarrassing, in a way people rarely admit. Because while the world continues moving, a part of you stay frozen in moments that no longer exist. You smile in public while privately grieving. You cry your eyes out. Fall sick. Lose your spark. Stalk them online and reread old messages a million times over. It hits deep when you realize you no longer have anyone to share personal thoughts with— how stressful the day at work was, the funny thing that randomly happened, snaps of you, the government's silence on pressing issues, or when you receive a bad news mid work and your eyes flooded with tears, heart heavy and tongue itchy to ...

 “ Life is for the living, you only live once ” — really, do we? I don’t think we live only once. I think we live many lives within one lifetime. We live first as toddlers — tiny humans learning balance, language, trust. Our world is small then: cartoons, scraped knees, bedtime stories, the comfort of being carried. We know nothing about bills, heartbreak, disappointment, or grief. That version of us is innocent, untouched, until then the toddler quietly phase out and the child is born. As children, we begin to dream loudly. We want to become doctors, singers, astronauts, presidents all at once. We laugh carelessly. We cry openly. We believe adults know everything hence, we bombard them with think-out-of- the-box questions. Life still feels soft around the edges. Then childhood fades, and another version of us takes over. Teenagehood arrives with confusion and discovery laced with bravery. Suddenly, identity matters. Acceptance required. We begin to question ourselves, our appearan...

  To some, it creeps in gradually, little by little, consistent changes, ignored patterns that soon explodes. To others, it hits suddenly, below the belt where the pain is sharp and quick. The type that will have you up at three in the morning. Pain does not always announce itself in obvious ways, not the usual raised voices behind slammed doors that comes with exits. No, It is sometimes silent, coordinated, rehearsed and direct, not confusing. It comes with moments of reminiscing about what was and much more, what could have been. It comes with triggers, the type that makes your heartbeat palpitate faster than normal at their far away sight, similar voice sound or even a simple text from them. Not everyone carries it the same way. Some wear it lightly, almost frighteningly calm, as though they had rehearsed the goodbye long before it arrived, waiting for it to arrive. They fold the memories neatly, tuck them away and continue with life as though nothing shifted. They speak about i...

 Some will hear of trauma and cannot help but interpret it passively as a buzzword thrown around on socials, a friend of a friend randomly saying something about being traumatized, a Gen Z lingua. They genuinely cannot relate to the idea of being shaken by an unfortunate event, hence, they lack clue on how to act around people traumatized. To others, it has become a lifestyle laced with panic attacks, anxiety, constantly living in fear, having to sleep with an open eye, the urge to watch over ones shoulder, popping random pills to stay calm, being startled at the slightest noise, increased pace on narrow lonely paths, flashbacks, sweaty palm, conflicting loud scream in the head. It was not always like this, never in your widest imagination did you envisage explaining your Innocence to the mob. You looked with eyes filled with unspoken plea, to tell them, to convince them that it was a bad joke, a prank gone wrong. Deep down, they know, they believed, he's not capable of that, but i...

  As young adults, the early to mid millennials inclusive, there has been a time or perhaps multiple times where you, your friend, colleague, next- door neighbour or a random stranger even, had the need, the intensified urge to rebel against the norm. To rebel is to rise up against authority or tradition in the form of family, boss or government. This action is often a result of accumulated anger—anger that has been ignored, dismissed, or suppressed for far too long. In families with nagging parents who would rather tear one down, trample and push beyond the elastic limit of tolerance and wait patiently for a reaction-only to turn the narrative around and play the victim, there comes a point when the child must push back. Not out of disrespect, but for space. To breathe. To live. To put an end to constant degradation. The urgent need to put an overbearing auntie in a place more befitting for people of her calibre who seems to have an awkward moment navigating their personal life an...

One who has genuinely not experienced grief over a dear loved one would assume it to be momentarily, a sad or perhaps a sorrowful feeling that fades with time. "It gets better with time" they say but in reality, does it ever get better even after years have gone by?  Grief often elude one of pity if left unchecked, the hole it leaves deepens, festers and widen. Life goes on but never quite the same. You search for empathy and you're met with brutality. Years to come, in your happy celebratory moments, the moment where nothing else ought to matter, your joyous days, you remember, you wipe your tears either for joy or out of guilt as the case may be, either ways, it doesn't exempt. It comes in moments when you gather to celebrate.Take the Yuletide for instance, your family always gather without missing a year, every extended member of the family comes home, to unite and create memories. You have grown used to having everyone around, grandma with her signature dance or m...

Picture this- On a random day, you're back home from work, school, event or wherever, exhausted and worn out, ready to shower, eat and crash, then you suddenly feel this tickling itch down there, it's not your regular itch, every scratch deepens your urge to scratch further, it's soothing at first, then you begin to feel pain as you scratch, more pain as you sit to pee and even worse when you take a bathe. You're left wondering, “what could  the problem be?” As women, our bodies go through a rigorous process, no thanks to nature. These processes may leave us in an uncomfortable state. When we hear about women's health, it encompasses a range of topics, from Endometriosis, PCOS, Fibroids, Pregnancies, Vaginismus and Yeast Infection amongst many others. While Candida otherwise known as yeast naturally grow and lives in small amounts within the vagina, mouth, gut, and skin, this overgrowth leads to uncomfortable symptoms like reoccurring itching and irritat...