Changing Things Up


Source: Meme Generator

Hello everyone.

It’s been a while since I last blogged. Oh, who am I kidding. I haven’t put up a blog post in two months and I’m so sorry about that. My life has been kind of… stuck in limbo and it reflected both in my writing, my health journey, and my blogging

I will now take each of these issues one, at a time.

My Writing

After finishing the story I started for LT3’s my dearest friend call, I ran out of gas and inspiration and just stopped writing. Awkward because I’m someone giving to writing everyday and I went from that to not writing anything in the last couple of months. I ran out of steam and the only things I’ve been able to write ever since have been drivel of some kind. Drivel that I have kept for those days when I can go back and give it a glance through to see what I can possibly salvage.

My story for My Dearest Enemy which I titled “Otaare” will however be scrapped. I’m starting almost from the beginning because I’m reviewing my writing process and trying to write better, more concise stories. In other words, I’m working on bettering myself as a writer.

Which leads me to the awesome Rock Your Writing Series whose audiobooks I bought and I’ve been slowly but surely going through it and following the assignments. It’s tedious work and going back to my stories, I find myself clutching my hair as I get the A-ha moment of “So that’s why that story felt so… limp”. Let’s see if they’re what my writing needed.

But the good news in it all is that, I’m writing again. Yippee!

My Health Journey





I’m someone who tends to throw herself wholeheartedly into something. In this case, it was my fitness journey. I forgot the whole rule of taking it one at a time so as not to suffer a burnout. Well, I suffered a burnout. So much so that I haven’t been eating, my workout has gone to hell in a basket and I feel… heavy. Very heavy. It’s been tasking on my morale and my mind. Plus I haven’t had as much energy as I’d been brimming with when I started on the journey.

So now, I’m taking it one step at a time. Starting with my cardio. Strength training, I would move into by next week. This week though is to start with something I love doing, in this case: Dancing. I shall dance around my living room for one hour, every day, to loose things up and get started on this new journey. Keeping my fingers crossed.

My Blogging

Turns out the way I was blogging on the site wasn’t as sustainable as I’d hoped. Especially with my writing, reading, working and Kdrama watching (which has led to my Kdrama recapping on So now, I’ve decided, I shall blog once a week about everything and nothing. Sometimes it will be tailored towards my health goals, other times it might be about a great book I read in the week, but it will always bring me back to what I’m writing, what I’m editing, or what I’m researching. Think of it as a glimpse into my life for the past week.

Some Good News

52003660So, I got a mail two days ago, from the awesome people at LT3. Remember my Christmas short, set in Lagos that I sent in about two months ago? Well, it got accepted for publication. Whoohoo!!! Turns out a bit of good news also helps with a writing funk so I’m all set to make sure those two stories I started, make it in time for the end of July call.

Please find below an excerpt from the accepted story (ignore the typos and grammatical inconsistencies) and see you all next week:

I was right. My sister had fried Akara—a paste made of peeled kidney beans, red peppers and onions. The ingredients were blended together and then fried either in vegetable oil or palm oil. Palm oil’s better. Gives the Akara a crunchy taste that’s so much amazing. And the taste! My God! It always tastes better when we make it in Nigeria than the other times Ivie had made them in the States. I had no idea why. Maybe it had something to do with the air. Or the peppers. Or the beans. Or our onions. Or even our water. I had no idea. All I knew was that when we fried it here, it was one of the best things I’d ever tasted.

She looked at Red and how I was holding him and scoffed. “I’m still frying him on Christmas morning,” she grumbled.

My hands rose to where his ears would have been had he been human and covered them. I glared at her.

She rolled her eyes. “News flash. It’s a chicken.”

“News flash. He has feelings,” I tossed back at her.

“Yeah well, he and his feelings will be sitting pretty on my plate in two days.”

I didn’t bother replying that. There wasn’t any need to. I tore off a bit of the Akara, placed it on my palm and held it out to Red. He pecked at it till there were only crumbs left and clucked. I tore more of the Akara and placed them in little bits on the small saucer that should have otherwise held a teacup. I pushed away said teacup and reached for a gigantic mug, then poured my coffee into it.

The saucer I placed in front of Red and waved at him to have at it. He did.

When Ivie turned her back to me, I picked up one of the small sugar bowls empty of sugar and pulled it closer to my bowl.

Ivie had served the Akara with Akamu as my mother liked to call it, Ogi as my grandmother preferred to call it and Pap as every Nigerian knew it to be. Made from blended corn, passed through a sieve to remove all impurities. Then left to rest for an hour until it had separated—just like how one got butter from milk. It was then left for two days to get the sour, fermented taste that was characteristic of the meal. 

It went well with Akara in the mornings, especially after adding milk and sugar. And in the evenings, I preferred its more solidified form, Eko, with my Akara.

I poured some water into the small sugar bowl and passed it to Red who started drinking from it.

By the time Ivie turned around, Red had his beak in the bowl and when she glared at me, I shrugged. “You said I should feed him.”

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