The problem with Báyọ̀

A strongly worded letter from a Nigerian mother to her married daughter (Morónfólú), who has recently complained that her husband is not romantic enough. Ironically, throughout the letter, it is clear that Báyọ̀ is not the one with the problem. The letter also unveils the tumultuous and somewhat twisted relationship between mother and daughter.

Flash Fiction: The Routine Appointment

Bọ́lá’s routine appointment has been tactically booked for twelve noon. Working from home has been lonely, but at least she is safe.  Outside, the crisp cold London air is mixed with the pungent stench of cigarettes. It has been a while.  The scanty leaves lacing the pavement confirms the end of Autumn. Her favourite season.Continue reading “Flash Fiction: The Routine Appointment”

The EndSARS movement From Nigeria to the UK

This is a collaboration piece about the EndSars Nigerian movement written by two Nigerians living in different parts of the world. Adeite is based in Lagos, whilst Ibukun is based in London.   In the past few weeks, thousands of Nigerians both in the Diaspora & Nigeria, protested to EndSARS. SARS is/was the Nigerian SpecialContinue reading “The EndSARS movement From Nigeria to the UK”

Flash Fiction: He made me do it

Ayo, is always daring me to do things. I like seeing the proud look on his face when I successfully complete a daring task.  Last week, he dared me to jump from the first floor of our estate. I had a mattress to land on and everything. It did not end well. I thought IContinue reading “Flash Fiction: He made me do it”

Flash Fiction: Judgemental Much?

There isn’t much to like about Seun. He has a face that only a mother could love and a wily character to match.  Yet, he successfully breaks many hearts: luring one young girl after another into his old car. Right now, he is leaning over the said battered box car, chatting up the doe-eyed girlContinue reading “Flash Fiction: Judgemental Much?”

Flash Fiction: Dele

I stopped eating the day Dele rejected me. After months of making eyes at him, he had announced in front of all his friends that I was not his type and should leave him alone.  I could still hear their resounding laughs as I fled from their presence, running all the way home. In theContinue reading “Flash Fiction: Dele”

Flash Fiction: Why I Changed My name

Oluwabunmi is the name my parents gave me. It’s a Yoruba name that means, God’s gift.  At school, my teachers shortened my name to Bunmi even though I preferred the name Olu. That is when the teasing started.  The kids called me bum licker.  They taunted me as I sat at the lunch table, allContinue reading “Flash Fiction: Why I Changed My name”