If you bring only logic to a battle of emotions, you will lose.

Orange sheets of paper lie on a green school board and form a chat bubble with three crumpled papers
Orange sheets of paper lie on a green school board and form a chat bubble with three crumpled papers
Photo by Volodymyr Hryshchenko on Unsplash

‘Love is a touchy subject,’ I started. ‘But it sucks!’ Whoops! I saw people’s eyes widen.

‘Should Dave marry for love?’ I asked as I turned to face my opponent who was also my colleague. ‘No don’t answer that. Not yet.’

‘Are you in love? If not, have you been in love? So, why aren’t you married yet? Could it be that you’re not ready? Or your partner wasn’t ready?’

I took out a marker and walked towards the whiteboard. ‘Marriage cannot be reduced to a simple equation,’ I said as I began to scribble something on the whiteboard. …


Pay close attention to guidelines, say you’re sorry when shit happens, and show, not only tell, what you’re doing about it.

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A few years ago, I interned at an IT company where I did a lot of fieldwork.

One hot afternoon, I was on a ladder, some 15 feet high up in the sky. My supervisor was on another ladder beside me, a few feet below mine.

We were trying to fix something.

There was a medium-sized drilling machine up there with me. The way I placed it or met it (can’t remember which), if I’d mistakenly hit it with my shoulder, it would’ve fallen directly on my supervisor’s head.

But that didn’t happen. I moved it.

Now, when everything’s smooth…


If you’re reading this, it means I made it past squeezed papers and finally got a working draft!

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This story is all about self-love.

For the first time, I want to be completely selfish in a story. I will talk about mostly myself.

Oh, I didn’t lose you there. Great!

I will be sharing a conversation I had with myself as I was trying to get my head out of this rot feeling of nonsense writings. More on that soon.

But hey, let’s give this some movie-like effects and say there were two people in that conversation; I and one other guy called, uh…yeah let’s just call him Guy. Ok?

That’s more dramatic. Whoo! Let’s do this.

Guy checks his wristwatch again for the third…


Do it properly and it leaves a lasting impression. Get it wrong, and well, it also leaves a lasting impression.

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Sometime last year, one of my neighbors and her daughter were playing with balloons in the compound.

My flatmate was outside too and because my window opens to the side of the compound they all were, I could hear what was going on.

Suddenly, I heard my flatmate exclaim that the girl’s dress was smelling and that the mom should change it. She was like, «what do you mean?» My flatmate mumbled some words and closed with «You have to change it!»

At that point, I could tell the conversation was going to get more interesting so I peeped through…


But now I know better — disciplines complement each other.

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Back in my former secondary school, you’d find girls in the arts gossiping about how proud the boys in the sciences are.

Some science boys would do ridiculous things just because. I remember two science boys writing two different love letters to the same art girl just to prove a point.

What point? That she’d fall for both of them. Weird but facts. Their ego was that unchecked.

In fact, most science girls didn’t roll with art girls. Again, unnecessary ego. Unwarranted superiority.

The superiority the science folks felt and the consequent inferiority felt by the art folks was an…


But you already know this. So, what’s new?

Photo by Laurenz Kleinheider on Unsplash

I walked past it.

But the corner of my eye caught it. ‘Mm,’ I murmured. So I took a few steps back and looked really well. ‘Damn! I look good today,’ I said as I stared into the mirror and fondled my beards.

You’ve caught yourself lost in thought in front of a mirror before.

I’ve not had a haircut in about a month and a half because of the then-lockdown (maybe that’s just an excuse) but damn, I still look good.

It wasn’t long before I was gone.

Yes, I was still standing there but my thoughts had gravitated…


In the end, they love you, and you love you.

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When I sit at my computer to write, I usually don’t even know what the hell I’m going to write. Yes, I have an idea but my thoughts are everywhere, jumping around in my head.

However, when you see the published piece, you’d think I knew what I was doing all along.

But I don’t fully know what I’m doing. I only appear so.

Let me explain.

I draft a piece from the thoughts I poured in my Notes the previous night. To publish it, it has to make sense. …


And the ratio of punishment to praise is unfair.

Photo by Ketut Subiyanto from Pexels

Zero is the number of times my parents have said they love me.

My dad has never said ‘good job!’ or kudos to me. Never.

Does he hate me? No, he doesn’t.

Does he love me? I believe he does. In his own way. I mean, he found a way to foot most of my bills — academic tuition, allowances, feeding, etc so yeah, he loves me. I wouldn’t do that for over 20 years for someone I don’t love. Never. But there’s no connection between us.

He’s there. I’m here. He didn’t cultivate a relationship with me. …


So, how can we ever know that which is true?

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First off, you’ve got to know upfront that I’m not going to be answering any questions because I don’t know the answers too.

That said, let us explore!

So, I went on Quora to search for the following: How real is Juju in Nigeria or anywhere for that matter?

From funny arguments like:

You’ve not [sic] been to Madagascar, have you? but you believe it’s real. People who’ve been there believe it’s real.*

I haven’t been to Madagascar so I felt what that person was trying to say.

To serious ones like:

It is as real as you let it…

Nurein Akindele

I write about my experiences — from my childhood to just yesterday. & I do this with 2 goals in mind: 1. so you learn something 2. you have fun while at it.

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