Written by Mercy Williams The Passport was pressed and printed into existence alongside its brothers in a small, clustered photography studio in the Kainji Military Barracks. Niger State was a cold place. So cold that the photographer who put it together struggled to keep his trembling fingers steady while taking a picture of a young Edmond, the man whose appearance it mirrored. Edmond Kunle Oladokun had come from a long line of Ojedokuns. Once, the Passport overheard the man explain …
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Written by Idayat Jinadu When I was in primary school, I wanted to be a lawyer. I saw lawyers in Yoruba films I watched with my parents, and I wanted to be one. I imagined myself …
Written by Miracle Okah I am not a lesbian, but every time I tell a man that I am bicurious, I notice the way his eyes light up; it is like a switch has flipped. All …
Written by Idayat Jinadu It is said that when Adam and Eve ate from the forbidden tree, they were cursed. Eve’s curse was severe pain in childbearing, and Adam’s was endless toil in life. I think …
Written by Miracle Okah Imagine posting a beautiful picture of yourself on X (formerly Twitter), feeling confident. Then, a stranger gets hold of it and asks Grok, X’s chatbot, to turn your picture around so they …
Written by Miracle Okah Reader discretion is advised. This piece contains references to sexual violence and trauma. You are seated among the rest of the family at your father’s funeral. When your mother called you for …
Written by Mercy Williams The first time I said “Fuck!” and meant it was in 2021. I was in my mid-twenties and I was raging. My head was pressed against the cold wall of my room …
Written by Miracle Okah A few months ago, I came across a tweet asking why it seems like the marriages of our parents and older generations lasted longer than today’s. To be honest, it’s a valid …
Written by Idayat Jinadu My earliest memories of friendships are of me and the six other kids I grew up with in my neighbourhood. If these memories were lined like books on a shelf or queued …
Written by Idayat Jinadu Adejare whispered to Oribamise as she lay on his mattress beside him, “I don’t know what I would do without you.” She wasn’t looking at him; her gaze was fixed on the …
Written by Idayat Jinadu My feminism began during my first degree in Peace and Conflict Studies. I was 16 and fresh out of secondary school. I had my first phone, a Blackberry Q10, which I only …