An honest little conversation about masculinity, image, pressure, and the exhausting business of proving you are a man. I have a question. Actually, I have several, and I promise I am asking them because I genuinely want to understand. Nigerian men, who are you performing for?Who is sitting in the audience?Who is keeping score? Because
Dear Diary,I think Nigerians are allergic to straight lines. Not geometric lines, just queues. There is something about seeing people standing neatly, one behind another that awakens an irresistible urge in some of us to… improve the arrangement. You know the scene…Everybody has been standing there, some for ten minutes, some for thirty, and some
Lessons I Didn’t Expect to Learn from the World Cup. Now, before some of you roll your eyes and say, “Ria, please don’t start talking football,” relax….This is not really about football. Football simply volunteered to be today’s classroom. The lesson is about life. By the time the World Cup reached the third-place match between
There are marches.There are threats.There are people being told to leave. There are reports of businesses shutting down, people fleeing, and fears that violence could erupt against foreign nationals. Human rights groups and aid organizations have warned that both documented and undocumented migrants have been caught in the anxiety and displacement surrounding the protests. Now,
Dear Diary,I have come to a conclusion… Nigeria’s national sport is not football. I know…I know…Please sit down. And Breathe. I, too, was shocked by this discovery. Because if football were truly our national sport, perhaps we would have won the World Cup by now or qualified for the ongoing World Cup tournament (at the
Dear Diary,Today I saw a video. Now, seeing strange things in Nigerian politics is no longer an event, it is practically a weather condition, but this one caught my attention. In the video, a group of people appeared to be distributing Permanent Voter Cards – PVCs, to individuals who, from all appearances, did not seem
Dear Diary, Why Do Our Leaders Treat Public Office Like Family Inheritance? Today, Britain reminded me of something I had almost forgotten, Public office is supposed to be temporary.Revolutionary idea, right? I know. Logically, when enough people lose confidence in a leader, that leader can decide that perhaps the chair is no longer worth fighting for
Dear Diary, Today I saw a property listing. Now, seeing property listings in Lagos is not unusual. At this point, I browse them the same way some people browse luxury watches. Not because I intend to buy one, mostly for entertainment, and occasionally for cardiovascular exercise. Because some of these prices can raise blood pressure.
Dear Diary, I heard something recently that made me sit down and stare at the wall for a few minutes. Not because I was shocked, because Nigeria has exhausted my shock reserves years ago. But because I was trying to determine whether I heard correctly. Apparently, in response to the worsening insecurity in the country,
Dear Diary, Let me tell you about Nigeria.Actually, no.Nobody can truly explain Nigeria. People have tried.Historians have tried.Politicians have tried.Journalists have tried.Even Nigerians themselves have tried. Nigeria is not a country that can be understood through statistics. The numbers will tell you our population, they will tell you our GDP, and they will tell you