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

For the lazy days. #Saynotoprocrastination It's a talent killer. Though it is fresh and flowing, I just let it lie So many things to do, yet I left them undone Days pass, weeks into months but still there's nothing that I have done Ideas keep running through my head, hands itching to pour it out yet I won't budge There is still time, of course, I will surely do something tomorrow And when tomorrow comes I leave it till the next Now I'm ready just like I was all this while only that this time I mean it Now that I'm ready all the things have been coned off The ideas are stuck somewhere and it's like my brain is switched off Now I have realised that there are some things that you must not dodge Now that I have changed, things have also changed Yes, things have turned the other way and now I have a bloated ink.

The class had dragged longer than he wanted. It seemed to go on without an end in sight but he couldn’t complain. He was the reason why they started late in the first place. And if anyone was to complain it would be Jare or even the students but that didn’t stop him from glancing at his watch at short intervals and his friend noticed it. When the lessons finally ended and all the students were gone. Jare brought it up. He was about to leave too. “Guy, are you okay? You’ve been glancing at your watch since you came. Is it another commitment?" "Yes, a very important one. I’m afraid, I'm already running late."  Jare nodded in understanding and added just before he turned to leave.  “We should hang out, with the rest of the guys next weekend. It’s been a while. We have a lot to catch up on.” “Definitely.”  Damola nodded.  “See you next week.”  Once Damola was alone, he brought out a laptop from his bag, one specially reserved for what he was working on and a

The story of the Shepherd who cried Wolf comes to mind whenever the story of another clout chaser(s) comes online. It was a story that stuck to my mind because it carries a powerful lesson and because I read it twice in two different books. Both stories had their variations but the lesson remained the same. These stories I had read in primary and junior secondary school or read them both in either. My memory of when I read it is a bit jumbled but here is the summary of the story. There was this shepherd who used to live in a particular place. He would take his sheep for grazing far and outside the village. So one day he thought it cool to play a trick on the villagers, so he ran back to the village after taking his flock out for grazing. He started to scream wolf, wolf. The wolf was attacking his flock. The villagers felt pity for him and ran out to help him but on getting there, they discovered it was just a trick. Angry that their activities were disrupted over a lie, the

Yasmin alighted from the maruwa that brought her to the eatery and paid the driver off. If there was anything the accident had taught her, it was that motorcycles in Lagos were danger zones. Back home even the name babur terrified her mother and she would always tell her to avoid them at all cost and use the tricycles instead. Moreover, she only used public transport occasionally. There was always a driver on ground to take her anywhere around town. Chop and drink looks dry! She thought as she smoothed her maxi gown down against her body. Something she had been doing since she stepped out of the house. She had initially thought to go back and change into something else but had decided against it. The day was very hot and the pink and black flowery cotton chiffon dress was light and suitable for the weather but now she regretted it. The weather had cooled down and a gust of wind breeze blew, almost taking off her veil. The skies had also turned cloudy. It looked like it could rain soo

I look back at yesterday  And I'm grateful for today  Because today holds the promise of tomorrow.  Never lose sight of the future  because you are so immersed in the moment but also enjoy the joy  that comes with every moment Remember you are never in total control of tomorrow.  To love, To life, to dreams yet to be realised,  to the ones already achieved  to the ones still to be imagined. Alhamdulillah for everything. To those moments I've ignored  To blind to see what's within my reach. Forgive me,  I was ignorant  A bird in hand is definitely worth more than two in the Bush To the ones I love  And those that love me more There's always a space in my heart for you. Several thoughts dedicated to each of you every time I spend alone. To the gifts and blessings  I took for granted,  received on a platter of gold From the Source of generosity One independent of all  yet very dependable.  I had cast away these for far too long  but now away I put them no more. I want to e

“You will marry him, that is the best thing for you. Everything we have done for you so far is for your own good.”  Her father said. The finality in his tone told her there was no contesting it. His words were law for everyone in the household and anyone bold enough to oppose them was only looking to incur his wrath but she was not just any other person, she was his blood... his favourite.  “ Amma Baba , I don’t want to. I don’t even know this person. I don’t even love him."  She complained, her eyes searched that of her mother's, pleading for her to intervene but her mother wore a blank expression, it was as if she wasn’t part of the conversation.  “How would you know that, if you haven’t met him? I will arrange for you two to meet here. A first of a few meetings, before plans for the wedding commences.”   She wanted to scream that she didn’t want to meet anyone and that there would be no wedding because she was never going to marry that man or anyone else for now

I enjoy the good old feel of pen on paper. But I also love the flexibility that comes with typing straight away on my computer. The thing is, the good old way comes with its limitations and the fact is, it will still need to go through the typing process for the end product to be ready for distribution to readers, be it a hard copy or a soft copy. My first attempt at writing was in a twenty leaves notebook. I was in junior secondary school one (JSS 1). I had enjoyed all the story books I had consumed, why learning the English language and I wanted people to enjoy my stories too. So, one day I said to my friends " I want to start writing ." And they said " Alright ." They were wondering how I was going to do it and if I was even serious about it. Those friends of mine became my first set of readers. My beta readers , you could say.  The story I wrote was simple. It was a clichéd nollywood story about a girl who was always maltreated by her stepmother, sh