Sooo … My Debit Card Was Hacked


Yesterday, I went for a couple of meetings and came home tired and pissed. Tired because it was so hot outside, and I just don't function so well in the heat. And pissed because I waited for over an hour for the client and he did not show up. He could have at least given me a courtesy call, no? Anyway, I went home, took my pants off, and threw myself on the bed. About an hour later, I woke up feeling very refreshed. My phone was next to me, although on vibrate, and I picked it up to check what I Continue Reading

Nollywood Is Now On Netflix, And I Still Don’t Care


Did you know that Nollywood movies are now on Netflix? I don't know how many of them are there exactly, but I have been turned off from Nollywood for a long time. Anyway, because we have a smart TV, Igwe will not let me breathe. Every single day, Igwe will torment me with one Nollywood movie or another. For the first time in my life, I even watched a Yoruba movie from beginning to end, and honestly, it wasn't the worst Nigerian movie I've ever seen. The only problem is that whoever is in charge Continue Reading

If You Don’t Ask, You Might Never Know


Firstly, I am so sorry for my silence. I have been deliriously busy. I wake up in the morning and before I know it, it's night. Right now, I'm typing this post at the expense of my sleep, and I'm gonna pay for it because I have an early meeting. Hopefully I don't fall asleep in the middle. Meanwhile, I have been so busy that I have been carrying the same bag for weeks. The problem with this is that it's one of those really big bags, and you know when you have a big bag, it may be stylish, but it Continue Reading

“You Can Pass For One Of Us,” He Told Me

Nigerian American

I was with the doctor yesterday (not my personal doctor), but it was my first time meeting him. He called me by my Igbo name and asked if he said it right. I said yes. Honestly, he did a great job, considering that he's American. Then he asked me where I'm from, and I proudly said Nigeria. The doc then responded by saying, "Oh, wow, you speak really good English." I don't know what my face looked like (since I couldn't see it), but I imagine that my eyebrows were raised defensively and my lips Continue Reading

Journal #4: April 2015


Welcome to May. In March of this year, I had a car accident. I know what you're thinking: how come I didn't mention it in when I did my March journal in the beginning of April? Well, I typed up my journal on March 30th (and scheduled it for April 1st) because I was confident that I knew how my month would go. Clearly, I was wrong. On Tuesday, March 31st, I was happily driving back home from hanging out with my coworkers, and then bam! It happened. I was disoriented for a couple Continue Reading

My Weekend Recount: Uju’s Drunken Birthday


First of all, I owe you an apology for being so quiet last week. I was exhausted. Not tired, but exhausted. One thing is clear, I am way too old for this. Let me tell you about my weekend. Oh, and if it isn't clear, this weekend recount isn't from the weekend that just finished, but from the other weekend (April 17th to April 19th). Uju came in from Texas on Wednesday, so my weekend technically started on Thursday. Thursday: Uju came over to my house with Ibukun. We hung out for hours until Continue Reading

What Buhari’s Election Means To Me


Although I was aware of what was going on during the election, I was not actively or purposely following it. But it was hard to miss it. Everywhere I turned, there was one update or the other with the #NigeriaDecides. I read views from both PDP and APC supporters. I read about the infamous debate between the youths representing both parties. Igwe started to watch the video, but I just could not be bothered. Maybe it's my lack of political wisdom, but I did not understand why people who would Continue Reading

Journal #3: March 2015


Welcome to April. And just like that, March, too, is over. March was an eventful month. For starters, Igwe and I became god parents to Solachi's 3rd baby, Amaka. See her pictures and read about it HERE. Unlike February that sped past me with a blur, March had a number of days where all I wanted to do was stay in bed. I didn't want to work. I didn't want to blog. I didn't want to do anything. There were times that I didn't want to take a shower sef, and I cannot confirm or deny if I Continue Reading

Let Me Tell You About My Yoruba Neighbor, Kemi

My neighbor Kemi

Ehn ehn [in high pitched voice like my mommy], Ndi Yoruba relax, I am not here to disrespect your korshor (culture). So remember my neighbor, Tatiana? Well, she's been gone since 2014, thank God. She was a nuisance. Now, I want to tell you about my Yoruba neighbor, Kemi. I don't know how long she's been my neighbor, and she lives in the building next to mine (no, she didn't take Tatiana's space), but Kemi makes my heart go paulina-paulina. She makes it yori yori. She makes it go kpo kpo di kpo Continue Reading

The Thing About Being Igbo Is That I’m Not Yoruba

Couple Silhouette

I'm Igbo. Have I told you that before? Probably. Igwe, my husband, is Yoruba. By the way, this might be the first time I have referred to Igwe as "my husband" in a blog post. Aaarrrggghh. So weird. Yes, we've been three years married, but it's still so. darn. weird. Fine girl like me, how can I be referring to someone as my husband? Anyway, the difference in our tribes has never been more obvious to me --- until now that I'm married. Between Igwe and me, we don't ever remember that we come Continue Reading