He traced the photograph in his hand with his fingers and sighed at the smooth feel of it. It was the picture of a woman. The face that had been hunting him for years and now graced the walls of his parlour and even sitting on some of his furniture.  Each of the photos captured different moments. Some had her smiling, some in the middle of discussions. There were some of when she was very angry. He still had memories of moments when her anger had been directed at him. He usually did everything to bring back that smile to face. The one that usually warmed his heart and pulled at every strings in it.  How he longed for those special moments again. And this, was his most recent one of her. One of his men, back in Nigeria had taken one of her. In it, she wore a sad look, one that threatened to stir a painful past, one he had tried so hard to bury for years. Her eyes that once had the brightest shine he knew, had dulled and even though he noticed a faint smile or an att...

Sara had worn that pink dress she loves so much. She had been invited to a party but she didn't know what to wear. Then she remembered she has this pink gown she had reluctantly bought four years ago. She had worn it like six different to several occasions but each time she wore it felt as if she was wearing it for the first time. People never seem to stop telling her how beautiful she looked in it. A friend of the host she's meeting for the first time says "Your dress is so lovely." Sara smiles and goes on to say "Thanks. It's not really a new dress. I have worn it a couple of times but people never cease to stop admiring it." " Always resist the urge to shalaye " was something I heard from the Quam character in Quam's money played by comedian/rapper Falz but I could have seen it a couple of times online. Shalaye is a popular Nigerian slang mostly used in the southwestern part of the country. The word was coined from the Yoruba word Ṣe àlà...

“Hello beautiful”  Yasmin heard Lisa said the moment she opened her eyes but her throat felt patchy and she badly needed water. “Water.” She mouthed, the words came out like a faintly but her friend heard her and she stood up quickly to fetch her water from the water dispenser at the other side of the room. She came to her bedside and helped her sit before giving her the water to drink. Lisa threw the disposable cup into the dustbin near the door when she was done before going back to help her lie down. Yasmin shook her head slightly before saying.  “I have been in that position for two days. Please, just let me sit for a while.” Lisa was relieved to hear her friend say more words than she had in the previous days. She had been giving her only one word replies and sentences since she regained consciousness.  “I know, but I think you should rest some more.” She suggested.  Lisa had received a call two days ago at her workplace that Yasmin was rushed to the...

Every year the school send off students but not every year was a speech and prize giving day. This year was one of those special years because it was not only a day when outgoing students were celebrated but also a time when the other students who had performed well in learning and character were rewarded. This year was going to be interesting because some not so known faces had made it into the 'league of prize collectors’ . But you know what, I looked forward to those sweet Zobo drinks and delicious Jollof rice that would be served at the dining hall. And that got me thinking, so una sabi cook sweet food like this? What’s up with the coloured water for breakfast, the tasteless soup at lunch and the runny beans for dinner. That day was special, call it Sallah and Christmas combined. Latest gossips were usually treated like some sort of delicacy and the bearers prefer to serve them hot, hence the coinage 'hot hot' . When you hear that you don know say sweet gist dey ground ...

The drive to the eatery was a short one. On good days he would take a stroll to it as a way of exercising his legs. Today wasn’t one of those days. The very hot weather was a mere reflection of what he felt inside.  Chop and Drink had a cosy atmosphere. One capable of pulling in different people trying to escape the bubbly and hectic life of Lagos. The small eatery had a calming effect on came there. It was capable of housing twenty five people at most but also had two thatched sheds outside for those who preferred the sight and natural air it afforded. Some customer prefer to eat there but they also had the takeaway option for those who wanted it which by the way was most workers, during lunchtime. The delivery option was another service he thought they should consider. The first time he had been there. A friend of his had come visiting at his new office, and since he just moved in, they searched a few places to find a suitable place to eat and relax. Most of the rest...

These four African books are a must read lovers of good stories. First of all, let me say this, I was not paid to write this or review anything here. When I recommend books and movies, it is because I enjoyed them myself. I try to avoid posting anything that's not worth your time. I review hyped stories to let you know if they met expectations or not (which is like an exception from what I wrote a few lines above, about writing what is only worth it).  This is not a review but just a brief summary to give you an idea of what each book is about. The books are definitely worth your time and a great add to your library. With that cleared, please let's move right into this beautiful list I made, just for you. Starting the list is this Nigerian story, Mrs Unmarried . It is a thrilling story about Ezinne, a married and battered woman who later becomes the prime suspect in the murder case of her husband because all fingers points at her. She alone has the most motives to do it and aft...

  “ Innalillahi wa inna ilaihi raji’un! Inna...lillahi wa inna ilaihi raji...’un!! ”  The elderly woman in her fifties cried out. The domestic staff had all abandoned their duties when they heard the cry. What could have gone wrong? They murmured as they rush toward the source of the noise. Her husband, a man  in his mid seventies had also heard the cry and was hurrying towards her. His agility and even his physical appearance did not match his age. One would think he was in his early fifties and very close in age with his wife.  “ Alhaji, ta tafi. She’s gone! ” She said tears threatening to spill. “What are you talking about? Who’s gone?” He asked impatiently.  “Who else? ‘yar ka mana . I did warn that we shouldn’t push her. Now she’s gone. She fired at him. “Where do we even know to look? Na shiga uku ” She continued to wail.  She was not an impulsive child. How could this have happened? Or could she have had all planned out? Alhaji Tijjani Maikudi had w...