The Nigerian Checklist

“Hello, Rahimat.” This doesn’t sound well. I drop my hand-fan because this call cannot allow for multitasking. “Hello, ma. I can’t really hear you well.” Of course, the network is great. Of all the times for the network to be at its best.  “Me I can hear you well. Loud and clear.” Trust Aunty Folusho […]

“How much is this?” I raise the ‘closeup’ toothpaste I’m holding. The shop attendant looks at me struggling to conceal his annoyance. I ignore him.  I used to go to the mall close to my house but then changed my mind. The prices are fixed and outrageous. Now, having shifted to the “chemist” shops, I’m

I hiss. Not for the first time. I’ve hissed more than a hundred times since I arrived at this bus park.  The man beside me gets up and heads to the attendant’s desk for the umpteenth time.  “We were told!” He roars, gathering looks from everyone. Then he continues, just as loud. “We were told

I forgot to tell you about how overworked I am. The way it works here is that you want to talk about one situation, but there’s an even heavier situation. In nature, the strongest wins—the heaviest thing on your mind gets to be produced first. As an overworked human, I can’t believe that something as

Fuel scarcity is at an all-time high. I wake up and almost hiss, I’m so close to hissing. But hissing is bad. I plug in my earpiece instead and listen to the sound of the ocean on YouTube. I can’t even concentrate, everywhere is unnecessarily loud. Where have they been getting fuel from? Whoever supplies

I’m on my way to work and cranky. I had woken up earlier thinking whether my decision to be a human was a smart one. After waking up more than three times during the night due to the heat and mosquitoes, crankiness was a no-brainer. At the bus stop, there’s a long queue for fuel.