I would wipe the smudges off my mirror and then maybe see ME clearly. Unfiltered. Maybe then I’d accept the image I see. Flat chest, flat behind, hairy legs. I would take off the cobwebs hanging on forgotten books and then maybe I wouldn’t be haunted by what lies in…

Blank canvas, blank sheet, everything blank. Blank? So much to say, so much to write, so much to show the world but so little time. Time? Timeline scares, deadline scares, the steady tick-tock of the clock sends shivers. Shivers? Tossing, turning, anxiety-filled waiting, waiting neck-deep in this neverending cycle. Cycle? Neverending cycle that makes one dizzy. Up, a blank sheet. Left, a ticking clock. Down, a spine-bending shiver. Right, a glimmer of hope.

Inspired by ‘After Twenty Years' by O. Henry She was not the kind of girl to be found at the other end of town, the end where toddlers enjoyed hot afternoons in puddles of brown-like water, where adults were found either drunk or about to be. Her white dress was…

No music. Silence. Just us and our thoughts and oh, of course, the rumbling sound of the old generator. We're in Nigeria, aren't we? Not in some better, refined country like perhaps...Ghana? Oh, dear Nigeria. We have decided to love the country from afar. Yes, we will rep our culture…

Mirror What do you see when you look in the mirror? One of those cliche questions, right? Even saying it's cliche is cliche...then saying it's cliche is cliche is even more cliche. Nobody likes cliche, at least I don't. The word cliche is cliche and should be called... cliche. Back…

I will be beautiful. I must be beautiful. I will carve my eyebrows, they will be set into perfect shape. I will crush the clay and mix it with Mama’s special solution, the mixture will I rub on my lips. My small, thin lips will look fuller. …

I don’t want you to think I’m a phone addict so at thirty minutes interval I pretend to be busy writing in my journal. I long for the sleek device in my palms. Messages await me. People must need me. I need them. I’m bored... a little tour around the Bird app wouldn’t hurt. I need to research. I get a douse of inspiration from watching cats do the funniest things so I must watch them or else I’ll die.

Part One: Body in a body I have been aware of my body since I saw the first red spot on my panties. Suddenly, I wasn't the timid, spindly eleven years old, I was human with a body. At that moment, I could relate to Adam and Eve. …

Ahem. I’m writing these words on my messy student bed. The bedsheet is almost off, there’s a dirty plate, a used cup, and an empty sachet just by me. It’s a miracle that my grey T-shirt isn’t stained with oil from the plate. Sprawled across me are my trusty jacket…