
Lucky You, Your Father is a Chauvinist!
Lucky you, your father is a chauvinist, Your worth is equivalent to a well-made pot of soup and there is no, I repeat no excuse for not mastering the “art of making the devil’s look alike a.k.a Amala…
Romance, intimacy, partnership, and the decisions and trade-offs love demands.

Lucky you, your father is a chauvinist, Your worth is equivalent to a well-made pot of soup and there is no, I repeat no excuse for not mastering the “art of making the devil’s look alike a.k.a Amala…

This essay explores the challenges of modern relationships in an age shaped by heartbreak, social media, and emotional self-protection. The essay reflects on how many people still desire love but struggle to trust it, often entering relationships with fear, skepticism, and the expectation of disappointment. It examines how constant exposure to failed relationships online has made vulnerability feel risky, leading people to guard their emotions rather than fully embrace connection. Despite this, the essay ends on a hopeful note, suggesting that although love may be harder to believe in today, people continue to seek it, proving that faith in love has not completely disappeared.

Minutes before a midnight deadline, an accounting student's laptop completely dies, threatening to fail her final project. Her boyfriend, a software developer, rushes to dismantle the broken computer, extracts the memory drive, and uses his programming tools to repair the corrupted file from the inside out. Beating a slow internet connection, they manage to submit the project with just two minutes to spare, showing that the true value of their tech skills is protecting the people they love.

On the night before he emigrates to Canada, Femi struggles to pack his life into a single suitcase without exceeding the airline's strict 23-kilogram limit. As his partner, Seyi, watches from the bed, the distraction of packing and logistics finally ends, leaving the couple in a heavy, suffocating silence. The story captures the profound, unspoken emotional toll of the "Japa" wave, illustrating the heartbreak of young Nigerians forced to trade physical closeness and their relationships for a chance at a better future.

In a mildly reflective and personal narrative, the writer talks about how memory shapes their understanding of love. Struggling to express emotions directly, they find meaning in revisiting moments both big and small that define care, connection, and belonging. Through intimate remembrance of family and shared stories from friends, the piece becomes a soft collection of what love looks like in everyday life: quiet sacrifices, thoughtful gestures, and enduring presence. At its heart, it is a celebration of love not as grand declarations, but as lived, remembered experience.

1. Love used to be sweet, fun and exciting during teenage age and early 20s. 2. Love today now carries financial costs. A huge one. 3. A man has to spedn money continously from the point of asking out a lady till they get married. 4. Every lady wants, hopes and expects to get a fully financially capable man. 5. Nigeria's currenct economic realities make these expectations nearly impossible to realise by an average Nigerian bachelor.
The thin line between love and hate isn't exactly thin.
One who has returned, as if from a long journey, or from the dead.

1. Every person wants romantic affection. It happens and it is always spontaneous. 2. Relationships are ignited by the sweet, overwhelming spark of affection and feeling of infatuation. 3. Sustaining a relationship needs serious intentional commitment, beyond this feeling of infatuation. 4. People give up easily in a relationship when faced with conflict, and it should not be. 5. An enduring, loving relationship requires daily mutual commitment to the other person.

You are a vain puppeteer, deriving pleasure from our rational irrationality.
A case study of how Nigeria's macroeconomic conditions constrain and deplete romantic partnership formation and sustainability.
Love came to me in many forms; in care, in sacrifice, in heartbreak. And yet, even surrounded by it, I am still learning what it truly means.