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“You are under no obligation to write comfortable stories [or poems].” — Ijeoma Umebinyuo

I love how I make my simple habits a ritual. Making coffee becomes a ritual, my skincare is a ritual, my music elevates me, my swimming at the pool at night is also my singing session. It’s mine. I gather little pieces of peace and spread it through the day. How beautiful a life.

Throughout life, society will try to humble your daughter. Especially when they swear she does not fit into who should be confident. Dark-skinned girls will face it even more no matter where they live. You must arm her with enough confidence she does not move with her head bowed.

Same thing he did for PF Chang’s and of course he’s a Nigerian-American. Excellence.

The fact that I understand what they just wrote should be a sign I really need a break from reading academic texts.

The Department of History at Georgetown University invites apps for an advanced assistant or associate professorship in AfAm history to begin in August 2025. We seek a scholar who specializes in the political &/or intellectual history of the long Civil Rights movement.

I promised myself I will celebrate my birthday for the first time in more than over fifteen years in Nigeria. I might have to break that promise, baby.

You people will not focus on your particular degree you’re pursuing. You think you can word salad some bullshit words and present your case.

It feels good having people say, "yes" to your ideas and invest in it. I have spent so many years working and building alone, I deserve this so fucking much.

🤲🏾

Blessed be the daughter begging for peace. The wound and the scar that will uproot from it. Blessed be the loneliness, the terrifying act of defiance, the path she paves alone. Blessed be the tears at night, the dancing at midnight with a glass of mine. Blessed be the pain.

Oh my god of small mercies.

In another life, I am an architect.

imagine living in the same lifetime with someone like me and not waking up grateful? how cruel to the god of beauty, art, writing, photography? how cruel to the god of speech. how cruel to the god of women, the god of sinful women like me. how cruel to be so ungrateful.

key word: for them.