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My quiet riot of words begins here.

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This space is where my thoughts land when they’ve run out of places to hide. It’s part diary, part soapbox, part sanctuary. Expect reflections that challenge norms, stories stitched with memory, and questions without tidy answers. I’m not here to go viral. I’m here to go deep. If you’ve ever felt too curious, too intense, too “much” welcome. You’re in the right corner.

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  • ADUKE

    Come, Aduke.Let us walk into the forest,away from the piercing eyes of Iya Agba.Let us lie beneath the starry skyand let the trees watch as our hearts are knit. Let me bury the pains of your heartin the depthless pit of my soul,where love is endlessand strife is brief. Come, rest on my bosom.Listen to…

  • Rain in Lagos

    I hear splatters of rain in Lagos.I hear the unrhythmic splash of cherubs’ tearssizzling on rooftopsand filling potholes in Iyana Ipaja. Rain in Lagos.The hours stay wet and cold with misty air.The torrent sweeps the Marina walkway clean,floods the Ebute Meta walkway,and invades gated houses in Lekki. Rain in Lagos.Commuters scamper for shade.Bus conductors hike…

  • Stay Here

    Let us stay together.I will mutter no word.Stay here.Let me breathe in the fragranceof your sweet perfumeand wrap you in the cocoonof my steady arm.Let me shield youfrom the fears of an unknown tomorrow. Stay here for a million years.Place your hand on my chestand feel the warmth of my chest hair. Stay here.Let me…

  • Omolewa

    The necklace that crowns my manhood.Child is beauty.You are the beauty of my soul,The upshot of my love’s seed. Omolewa,My treasured mirror,Plinth of immortality.In your eyes I see my soul,The muse of my masterpiece. Omolewa,Born from a true love nest.Child is calm.You are the wind that easesThe fuss in my soul. I cherish you without…

  • Margaret Is Pearl

    How do I writeOf beauty so flawless,A soul so virtuous,A heart with shimmering iridescence? Margaret is pearl,A beauty with oriental lustre.A fair lady without a spot,With skin that glowsLike noonday sunlight.Hair that flows like the EuphratesIn Eden’s early calm. Pearl is rare, like Margaret.Her smile softens cold heartsAnd moistens deserts. Margaret is pearl,A gem among…

  • Dusting Your Phone Book

    Two things happened yesterday that forced me to rethink how I relate with people. My day started slowly at work. A little before noon, I received a call from Alex, an old university course mate and an irregular caller. We laughed about our school days until I asked after Kate, the lady who proofread my…

  • Domestic Abuse: A Victim’s Last Moment

    Several thoughts ran through my mind as sweat dripped down my face. I wondered why no one noticed my sudden change of countenance. A few minutes earlier, I had been chatting with everyone on the bus, looking forward to the dinner party at Eko Hotel and Suites in Lagos and the after party at Get…

  • The Conversation at Cemetery Road, Yaba

    A fortnight before my twenty fourth year on this stage of fools, with apologies to Shakespeare, I visited my mentor, a man I hold in high regard. A towering intellectual. He decided to entertain me at a nearby alehouse, an ardent believer in the age long saying that in wine lies the truth. Egbon: Oliver,…

  • Bathsheba at Night

    The harmattan breeze moved through the room,cold and dry.Her presence pressed into my thoughtsbefore she even spoke.Then I heard her steps. She entered,and my heart warmedas if placed in a hot oven.She walked with quiet confidence,steady and upright. Her chest glowed in the firelight,her skin smooth,her breasts set like bright points in the sky.Her scent…

  • Christmas in Chibok

    No melodious drumbeats.No stomps of dancing feet.The day stays dry as bone, locked in pain and agony.Trees stand unclad under the harmattan breeze.The maidens of the town are missing. Christmas in Chibok.No Saratu to cook the rice.The town feels empty.Hens wander through the dust.No rice grains to grind. Christmas in Chibok.No Kuli kuli or Masa.Grief…