On tribal stereotypes
Being born on the campus of a Federal University in the ’80s, I grew up in what was a cultural multi-verse. On my street alone, one was as likely to run into a Pakistani anthropologist as a Cameroonian...
View ArticleMemories of Christmas
My earliest memories of Christmas – and ultimately of growing up – are inextricably connected to the sounds of roosting chickens, the anticipation of a hearty Christmas afternoon meal and the Chapel’s...
View ArticleThat NYSC Year…
My short Saturday morning sleep (I’d stayed awake till 4.30 am) was shattered by the insistent buzz of my cellphone at a little over 9.00am, and with it came summons to meet up with a bloke I met at...
View ArticleIn which I recall my memories of being a new hire…
Recovered from an old computer…. The joys of spring cleaning, I guess… Apologies for any one who finds the pidgin English excessively ‘conc’ Not too long ago I resumed at one of the much vilified...
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About Town: Chance Meetings, Moments of Discomfort and a life-in-a-song moment
A sudden bout of hunger assails me just before the clock chimes 5.00pm and I find myself making a detour – turning left at Guild Street and then making a beeline for the KFC on Union Street. Usually...
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