Title borrowed from Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s Notes On Grief which was brilliantly reviewed by Daniella Khanani.
The past few days have been some of the toughest that I’ve ever been through. The one thing that has kept me going and stopped me from drowning under the weight of it all has been my village. My friendships. My people.
I’m a millennial. That generation the straddles the pre and post-internet explosion. I like to believe we are that magical generation that had the best of both worlds.
If you want to hide something from an African, put it in a book.
Dear Dark skin girl
Trigger warning: this one is going to be a little dark.
In my teens, I watched a movie about a girl who loses her brother in an accident. She goes to a singing camp where she overcomes her stage fright and learns to properly grieve her brother. And everyone hugs at the end.
I have always been odd. Weird. When I was younger, I stuck out like a sore thumb in a time when it was extremely cool to fit in. I have had an overwhelming desire to be more than just the mould that society had cast for me even before I was born. My life was …