Mr. Don’t Lie to me

So this story, this story is the story I’m most ashamed to share. It’s a bit of a confession too but the person that owns the confession won’t read it anyway, because he doesn’t read anything I write. That’s good…? I met Emeka online, on a dating app. One of the question prompts on my

Bookish: Nearly all the men in Lagos are mad

I’m going to begin this review from the bottom, the last story, Independence day. I found the end a little… unrealistic. A Nigerian woman, living in Nigeria, is unlikely to stand up in a public space and point out her rapist. The public outcry would be massive and it’s unlikely that it would be in

My First Love (IV)

Kisses and Confrontations. I didn’t tell my girlfriends. I was by no means a popular girl but I had a few close friends. I was however, determined to make sure this relationship stayed private and so I didn’t tell them. Not until the kiss at least. After break time on Fridays we usually had social

Bookish: Song of Achilles

I was worried when this book didn’t immediately start with the introduction of Achilles because I had never heard of Patroclus. The worry was mostly that we’d be told the story of Achilles as outsiders because our protagonist was merely looking in. Well, I was pleasantly surprised as the story went on. This story followed

Drinks and back home.

*Contains sexual/adult content. At the start of the evening, I hadn’t anticipated it ending this way. How could I have? I had expected to go out, have a few drinks, say a few Heys and be on my way, but no. I had gone out quite alright, I’d had the drinks, I’d said the Heys

Mr. “Oh That.”

The next time he called me I asked him why he didn’t tell me and he said, “Oh that.”