“You’ve been staring at that picture for a long time. Who is the fine young man?” “Firstly, why are you looking at my phone, and secondly, you should mind your business. Kilo feel?” “I would mind my business if we weren’t out here celebrating our friend Jessica, and you were…

One of my closest friends blocked me, and because I don’t know how to deal with loss, I’m writing about it. We’ve not spoken since the presidential election (no, this has nothing to do with Tinubu), but I often take a peek at all their social media pages to see…

I’m not sure if it’s spring yet, but winter’s chilling arms still wrap me at night and dawn. The streets aren’t busy with summer visitors yet, but I can feel them getting ready for the annual gathering of tourists. These people, they come and they go. It’s 9:06 pm. …

This piece is to the one whose affection I hold like a mug of hot cocoa on winter’s evening, hi. You know, when I first met you, I did not intend to fall for you as hard as I did. …

Where is home? Last night I couldn’t sleep. I spend the time with the moon tracing your face on my phone screen, wishing you were here. These nights are eulogies to a cellar filled with bottled emotions. A distillery no one would ever drink from again because when you left…

I grew up surrounded by love. In the years before my dad died, I watched him love my mum. They laughed so loud when they were together in their room you could hear it from the parlor while you watched everyday people. …

I want everyone to feel like they have a safe space with me. I want to feel like Ice-cream on stressful days and music on troubled nights. What does it mean to be a place of comfort? You might say people can run to you in times of trouble, knowing…

“It’s me, Folarin. Please open the door.” It’s been exactly three days since I said goodbye and walked out on Nina during an argument. …

I’m holding on to a forever we wrote in ephemeral ink. As time passes, I no longer remember what your warmth feels like, but it lingers in places I can no longer grasp. It hangs in my throat, courses through my spine, and tingles in my fingers. Words? They fail…