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Speaking of the devil , Tolu, my team lead saunters into the office carrying a folder with her. I know her coming never carries any good with it. So I groan inwardly and mutter a silent prayer that this be quick. I click on the query I have just finished and drag on the words to select it so that I can copy and paste it into the body of the email I'm to send to Mr Jacques. The folder drops with a thud on my desk. As if my day couldn’t any worse.  “Talatu, I need you to work on these ASAP.” “I’m in the middle of something Tolu and I already have a pile waiting for me.”

Two days later Yasmin was convinced that agreeing to come to Damola's studio was a good idea and was confident that by the end of her visit, her decision about the place would be a positive one.  Before he dropped her off that Saturday, he had beeped her line so that she could save his number. Even when she mentioned that she didn’t remember giving him her digit, he just smiled and said I have my ways . She scoffed. Ways indeed. She suspected Lisa gave him but the naughty girl had not said anything about it to her and when she brought it up the next day, about not giving strangers one another's number. Her friend only rolled her eyes at her and said Damola was not a stranger. That Monday he had called her in the morning to confirm if their arrangement was still intact and she had answered in the affirmative. Later in the after, a few minutes to two he arrived and was parked outside the house. When her phone began she was certain it was him. Thankfully she was all dr

I gingerly walked into the office I share with five others, they are all busy typing away at their keyboard with their eyes glued on their computer screens. But the desk next to mine is empty, Gbemi's, It's so unlike her. I walk straight to my desk and dump the envelope in my hand on it. I have read the contents like twice and I feel like even peering into it one more time will just open the dam of tears I'm trying hard to keep a lid on. The query letter also lies in my email, waiting for me to open it and read it. I could just ignore but the instruction from the new HOD states I reply and also type and print out my reply for proper documentation. I reluctantly clicked on the email, knowing every second counts toward changing the impression the new boss has about me. I'm Tolu our Team lead had already filled him in with awful things about me. Sometimes I wonder why she dislikes me so much. Issue of punctuality aside, she always looks for ways to pick on me. Gbemi walks

Asibi screamed before she caught herself. There were still a few customers left, five to be precise but three of them whom she assumed were friends were in the photography section of the studio. Only two of them were in the makeup area and they were both being attended to by Ayesha and one of her makeup artists. One of them turned to look at her, obviously irritated by the scream and she quietly mouthed sorry to her before excusing herself to the small room Ayesha used as her office, the same place she now shared with her. As she was leaving she heard Ayesha mouthing a quick apology to both customers for the fright she had caused. Three hours later just as the sun had set, Ayesha retired to the office. That was the end of that day's work except her VIP customers showed or maybe there were just too many customers for her workers would she stay up until 9 pm, the closing time. “What was that about?”  She asked as soon as she entered the office. Asibi knew she owed her not

Hello there, remember those movie scenes you'd watched where a character's alarm rings and they snooze it for the umpteenth time or even turn it off totally before going back to sleep and then bagan bagan something else rings their head, a brain alarm, I love to call it.  One that resets their brain and they realise it's workday and they've snoozed their time away and they have just twenty minutes left to bath, get dressed, to eat. Well, well strike that last part. Latey latey no chop breakfast especially if they live in Lagos, on the mainland and their workplace is on the island. They would probably take a lunch bag along but that is not the day. There's barely any time left to do anything. That is everything that is happening to me at the moment as I put my shoes on and realised I haven’t seen my babies. I begin to panic. My whole situation overwhelms me. I have taken them to school . My husband calls out.  Oh, I didn’t even realise he is seated in the dining spa

They sat in the dine-in area of a snack shop in the neighbourhood. Yasmin was digging into her cup of ice cream, strawberry and vanilla flavour while Damola had bought small chops with fresh mango juice. He had suggested an eatery not far off from the neighbour but Yasmin had insisted on the snack shop close by. He didn’t fancy much junk food but then beggars have no choice. It was either he agreed or his visit would have been in vain. After showing up unannounced, this was the least he could do. “So, the restaurant you work in is about to shut down?”  He asked, picking a piece of samosa from the plastic plate it was served in. “Hmmm,” she nodded. She took another scoop of the ice cream and shut her eyes briefly while savouring the taste and then open them. “They should close down in two months or so.” He watched her with keen interest while digesting the information she gave him. “That must be so good.” She quickly opened her eyes and gave him a quizzical look. “The ice cr

Tada! I present to you, my latest work 'It's Tee's Day.' It's Tee's day is a fiction-reality series that focuses on Talatu, a prolific writer and amazing mother of triplet and a great wife.

She plucked the phone off her ears and stared at the screen. It was a new number. The soft voice, she could recognise anywhere but it had been a while since they spoke last. The last time they communicated was two months after she arrived in Lagos and it was on a number she had stored in her contacts. But that phone number had been unreachable since then. “Yasmin, is that you?”  The voice asked again, uncertain. “ Shafa? ” “Oh, Alhamdulillah.”  Yasmin could relief in her voice.  “I have been on this for like an hour. I have tried more than ten numbers and was about to give up.” Yasmin didn’t want to say that because she wasn’t sure she understood what the other lady was talking about but all the same, she was about to say long time but Shafa beat her to it. “ Kwana biyu Yasmin, it’s been ages.” Yasmin smiled and was about to voice her agreement but the former continued. “I'm so sorry I'd not called all this while. My family were getting suspicious that I knew abou

Do you pack up this new life and revert to your old ways or do you continue on this trail? Well this place is a no judgement zone. I very well know we all have our different battles to fight. Everyday we strive hard to make it better than the last. And this month is given to us every year to start afresh. Those of us lucky enough to witness it seize the opportunity to get our slate of bad deeds wiped clean. The fact that you had abandoned your old ways to focus only on the worship of Allah in this month shows what you think is more important. The fleeting enjoyment of this life or the eternal bliss of the hereafter? Yes, this life may be hard and striving

Yasmin sat, legs stretched on the sofa in their living room, a book in hand and a plate of chin chin on a small stool in front of her. She chewed slowly as she carefully digested the contents on each page of the book. She was so engrossed in her reading that she didn’t notice Lisa walk in until she spoke. “Still that novel?” Lisa asked while touching up her make-up. “Unhmm”  was all Yasmin said not even lifting her head. “I finished that novel in two days. This is your fourth day and you are just halfway through.” Her friend pointed out. “I love to be thorough with my reading.” She replied. “Like you are going to write exams on it.” “Whatever!” Yasmin said and then she looked up and realised what her friend was doing. “You are going out?” Lisa rolled her eyes. “I thought you wouldn't notice till I was long gone.” “We planned to spend the weekend indoors. What happened?” “Plans changed. I'm going to visit chike.” “He’s back? When?” “A few days back.”  Lisa replied as

You can only try this when nobody reads your blog. Original post coming up InshaAllah.

Damola drove into the hotel premises where the party was happening. According to Adejare, it was a small get together of friends to celebrate another friend's achievement but what he saw didn’t look small. From where he parked, he sighted a few familiar celebrities in the entertainment industry that he went to say his hellos before heading towards where his friends were seated. “The king arrives.”  One of the guys on the table where his friends were sitting announced. They used to be well acquainted when Damola was still actively involved in the industry but now they only saw one another at very important functions. “It so hard to get hold of you these days.” The man continued. “How have you been?” “Good.”  Damola replied as he took the seat next to Jare. “And how have you been too, Mike. It’s been ages?” “Great. We are where you left us. Heard you and Jare now run creative schools. That’s a nice ‘give back to the society.’” Damola laughed.  “What can I say, man.”  He e

You have a very vivid imagination, Maryam."  The editor said as I got through to her. She was specially picked out for me by my publisher and she had told me we were going to be working together for her to capture the true essence of my stories. "What was going through your mind when you wrote these?" I sighed, smiled and replied. "Happiness as sweet as honey, sadness as bitter as bile." May our best dreams come through. May our hopes never be dashed. We each, on our journeys, strive to be the best of ourselves. Faced with uncertainties, and frustrations that could bring about depression. We need to persevere on our chosen course. Our persistence, patience coupled with our faith would go a long way in realising that dream so much desire. Keep on with the hard work or smart work like some people prefer to call theirs. Either way, just make sure yours is not the illegitimate type. There's this saying that where preparation meets opportunity, succe

Shehu glanced at different parts of his birth home as sauntered through the massive sitting room heading for the staircase leading to the hallway. The hallway housed different rooms including the family parlour and his father's study which also doubled as a home office.  He had called this place home for a little over three decades. But he had been away for ten years, which is a long time for him. Though it looked like the house had been renovated and seen a series of makeovers, it still felt like home. How he had longed for this feeling the years he had been away. Australia was cool but it lacked what he needed most, love and family. But this place, this house provided almost everything. Almost except for one thing. He thought as he walked towards the family parlour, which he had been informed his father was in. Now that he thought about it, the house felt a bit quiet except for the few domestic servants that were in parts of the building. He was aware most of his brot

I scrolled through my phone. Boring! I thought. So, I went through the few messages I had and made sure to reply to each message before I forgot. I tossed my phone aside. Gone were the days when the simple thought of being online excited me. These days na my diary get the gist. "Wayyo Allah na!"  Baddiya screamed, her phone in hand. My head almost fell off my neck out of fear before it crossed my mind. She was probably just being dramatic. Of all my friends Baddiya was the most dramatic of them all. Hands down, she takes the crown. People have called me dramatic too after all birds of a feather flock together. But I doubt it. A gentle girl like me. Then, she started to cry. She still had her phone in her hand but she was staring at something in it like her life depended on it. "Is everything alright?"  I asked, as I walked up behind her and snatched the phone before she could protest. I looked at the screen and I wanted to throw up. Here was a part of m

“Please, stop the car.”  She repeated, this time slowly. Damola slowed down looking for a good place to park before finally killing off the engine. The air in the car was filled with tension. Some seconds of silence passed between them before he said. “That day at the restaurant was another family drama day for me. I had moved out of my family home a month before because my father technically disowned me. That month I had slept around until I was able to sort my housing and a place for my studio. It was something I had already anticipated. I had been saving up for its eventuality but still, I was not fully prepared. Everyone thought I had been stubborn about the whole issue and should be the one to call and apologise which I did but my dad still angered by the issue said very nasty things to me. I had gone to the eatery that day hungry and also angry about the things he said to me.  I'm not trying to excuse the way I behave towards you that day. I just wanted you to kno

A Ramadan inspired post. Dead people can do no wrong. Ever wondered why people always have good things to say about those no longer with us? There's already the quote that says 'speak no ill of the dead' and one time enemies are now forced to rack their brains for those rare moments to share in speeches. The thing is every single living soul has an enemy. No matter how good or almost perfect you think yourself to be, there's that someone who just hates you for existing. Ask this person why they have so much hatred for someone and they have no tangible reason. Cross the oceans and seas, climb the highest mountain and bring heaven to earth it still wouldn't make meaning. Even the best of mankind, Our Prophet, may the peace and blessings of Allah be on him. As beautiful as he was, in and out, as loved as he was and still is had enemies, what less we, with our series of imperfections. While love and hate are both very powerful emotions, the former is positiv

Not long had the drive started then the heavens decided to release its contents. The dark and heavy clouds Yasmin noticed earlier on her way to the eatery had indeed been pregnant with rain. Yasmin said a silent Alhamdulillah for if she had insisted on not accepting the ride, the heavy rain that poured hard on the roads and everything in sight would have drenched her to the skin.  Thankfully, the windows had been winded up, so there was no way the cool air outside would blow the rain in. It could get really cold soon but at the moment the temperature in the car was high and Yasmin exhaled releasing  an air she didn’t know she was holding when Damola reached to turn on the AC. She hoped he didn’t notice but just then he turned towards her and her heart skipped a beat and her body demonstrated it. “Are you okay?”  He asked worry etched on his forehead. “Uhmmm”  She nodded. Swallowing hard the saliva, she had held in her mouth, too afraid to swallow. Too afraid to move even, l

G one are the days when the only place to watch series is on a cable network and local stations. Nowadays one is spoilt for choice with varieties of series on the internet, found on streaming platforms like Netflix, Showmax, Amazon prime video, Irokotv and so on. Usually watching movies and TV series is only possible with a subscription fee that is mostly charged monthly and some streaming apps, also offer yearly plan and then you need a solid data plan.  Meaning you get to incur expenses in two ways; a subscription to access the movies and a data plan to be able to watch the movies, which to some people is a total waste of money, especially in places like Nigeria where data plans are still very expensive. In recent times, there has been an upsurge of alternatives to the series on subscription-based platforms called web series. As the internet involves and the demands of consumers increased so as the contents being churned out refined. These days you can watch quality movies and serie

The talk with Mrs Danlami weighed her down more than she wanted but before she could get drowned in her thoughts, Ben appeared in the corridor just as she stepped outside their boss’s office. Alongside him was Bimbo, the chef. There used to be another cook but she resigned two months ago to go and join her family living in one of the Middle East countries. Since then, Madam Freda had been looking for a perfect replacement and was yet to find any before her whole plan to move back home surfaced. “Yas baby!”  Bimbo beamed at her. Yasmin smiled at both her colleagues as they approached her. Former colleagues She corrected herself. She’d not only resigned but in a few months, Chop and Drink would no longer exist. “You look good o.” Bimbo said as she scrutinised her. Ben agreed before adding.  “Your skin always glows. And the shade of your skin ehn, I don’t know where to place it. Is it fair or dark?” “I thought I was the only one that noticed.” Bimbo chipped in.  Yasmin laughe