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This is probably the state you will find many of us. Our resilience being our greatest strength also happens to be our kryptonite. We always find a way to draw strength from within and move on. We have so many popular catch-phrases that you must have come across. One being, “We Move”.
We claim to move on, but there is so much collective, hidden trauma. We have moved on, but it is mostly in fear. Our suppressed trauma affects our lives in ways we do not even realise.

If you happen to be from this part of the world, chances…


My university experience was quite the journey. I attended a public university, so you probably know where this is heading. It was a system where lecturers would rather be feared than loved. It wasn’t even up to two weeks in the university when I heard all the horror stories about lecturers and their frightening personalities. For example; There was one with the highest carryover students, there was the powerful female lecturer that “forced” feminism on students(lol), there was the man that majorly favoured female students and the lecturer that didn’t give A’s. From the start, I had set my mind…


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I had a very profound chat with my friend. He seemed to possess the answers to Nigeria’s greatest plague, corruption. I watched him masterfully proffer solutions, and I was in awe. Midway in the conversation, it hit me that my friend had recently bribed an official to “work” his NYSC posting to Abuja. At that moment I realised that I was friends with what some might call a hypocrite.

Many people are oblivious to the fact that they are indeed corrupt. As long as it doesn’t involve stealing millions of allocated funds, then it’s alright.

This realisation had me lost…


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My father passed when I had just turned 13 years. The age 13 was symbolic because it represented my debut into manhood. It was the age my father and I would finally get to bond. You should know that my father was a great man to everybody but me. I came into a life where he was greatly respected and adored. Before I could speak properly, the words “hope you will be a great man like your father” was etched to my soul.

My father was the warmest man in the world, easy-going with so much love. I certainly wasn’t…


There’s Rice at home, Chubi.

It wasn’t until I grew older that I understood that those words meant, “we are poor, Chubi”.

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shutterstock

Growing up in suburban Nigeria was quite an adventure. It wasn’t the most aesthetically pleasing setting, but it was quite fun. I enjoyed the thrills of being led by older friends to play Police and Thief, Boju-Boju, Street football and other very exciting, yet dangerous games (I have the scars to prove it). My mother disliked the way I played. She probably wondered how a child with a terrible pain threshold was always getting injured. I was even…


“Tolerance is the ability or willingness to accept the existence of opinions or behaviour that one dislikes or disagrees with.”

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I am often accused, to be bereft of this particular value by family members. It begs the question in my mind. Where do we draw the line for family members? Why do we collectively romanticise the idea that family is always forgivable? Religion certainly doesn’t make it easier. It is always that one ammunition that family members hold dear. They shoot it with religious vim when you have refused to forgive them at a pace they have suggested to you…

Chuubiyo

Writer.

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