She felt challenged her whole life…
As a little girl she often questioned if she was strong enough. Sister to two brothers, she was often challenged to a duel. She had watched them rough it out against each other and it was…rough. She pondered… “Am I strong enough to take them on — and win?”
She felt tested her whole life…
As a teenager she frequently assessed if she was pretty enough. The twin curvy effects of possessing a chubby build in a lekpa-crazy society and a uniquely arched frame in a culture obsessed with uniformity. …
I tell a lot of stories about my childhood — well here’s one that speaks to the #EndSARS #SARSMustEnd outcry.
In 2006 I worked in a bank in Makurdi. At the time, I lived at home with my Father in the Federal University of Agriculture staff quarters. The University is at the end of a lonely 4km road that — excluding one housing estate — is all woodlands, farms and a few rural villages. It is a long trek from anywhere else in Makurdi.
Sometime that year I was in a bad accident and my car was wrecked. To get…
I was once a girl child. A nurtured, loved, protected, girl child.
I wish that were the norm.
I remember my teacher in primary school taking a little bit too much of a liking — an inappropriate liking, to me.
I remember the day he told me I had gotten several answers wrong in our end of term examinations and wouldn’t ‘come 1st’. He said because he loved me, he wanted me to ‘come 1st’. He gave me a list of the right answers and told me to erase my wrong ones, insert the right ones and I’d be ahead.
I have practiced yoga on and off for 10 years. In Bālāsana, (child’s Pose) my head doesn't reach the floor or my bum won’t rest on my feet — I can have one, but not both. I can describe similar limitations in many other poses.
A few weeks ago, I decided to practice more deliberately and with the intent of perfecting some poses. As an accountability hack, I decided to take pictures and post in Instagram. I was practicing Urdhva Dhanurasana (wheel Pose) and had picture one taken — had a look at it and alas what I thought was…
Sometimes you can smell it an hour away
A wet, dusty aroma
The skies turn purplish black as night falls in the day
The firmament boils over
Displacing everything in its path, the wind breathes
Sand gets in eyes
Wrappers come undone and trees loose leaves and branches
Roosters, goats tumble back home
The clothesline is undressed just in time
And buckets and basins are lined up on the porch
Rain de come!
Its gonna rain!
The thunder claps the announcement overhead
Giant drops sail down slapping the earth
And then… the deluge.
Enene Ejembi, 2009
Nigerians eat five billion kilograms of rice each year — roughly 28 kilograms per person. Despite Nigeria being a rice producer, most rice sold in the country is not locally produced.
Nigeria imports about three billion kilograms of rice each year, largely from Thailand, India, Brazil and China. This costs the economy approximately $1.9 billion annually and denies a livelihood from rice sales to about three million rice farmers in northern Nigeria, one of the poorest parts of the country.
Until recently, Nigerian rice was of much lower quality than imported rice. Broken grains, the presence of stones, inconsistency of…
I've heard it said, and I am wont to believe, only two emotions really matter: Fear and Love.
Today let’s talk about the dark emotion.
Interactions with my Father were foundational in developing my approach to dealing with fear and building courage. My Father employed an immersion technique so effective, I have used it every now and again. He must have realized I was afraid of the dark by observing that my disobedience in response to errands spiked disproportionately after 7 pm. If I had to go brush my teeth, go to the loo or fetch a book from the…