Ayo, in Yoruba, means joy. Alayo… literally means a person who owns joy. The word also means someone who’s spoilt rotten. When I was growing up I had a friend whose name was Ayo and he was also spoilt rotten. That was a problem.
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Yesterday we were looking at ten thousand naira and we thought hey, it’s been a while, let’s try that grilled catfish they sell at Osata Supermarket. “Oh my god,” someone said, “the sauce on that thing is fire! I bet it’s a family recipe—guy probably inherited it from his grandmother.” “I swear.”
Did Regina Askia have green eyes? Remember her modelling shots for Collectibles back in the day? What was the colour of her eyes in them? Black? No. Lailai.
Okay, that’s reckless hyperbolism. My grand arrival in that famed continental magazine was anything but sudden. That story took me all of three weeks, plus a couple of extra sleepless nights—factoring in interviews, research, transcriptions, rewrites, edits, and reverts. But one day, just as I languished in one of those Lagos traffic jams on Alfred Rewane Road, Ikoyi, I saw Ayeni Adekunle and Steve Babaeko on the cover of Forbes Africa and I was like, Wait, that’s my story.
Every time I send an idea to any of my friends, I cross all my fingers and say 300 hail-Mary-mother-of-Gods. As I proclaim, “Hey, check this out,” I put a fake smile in my voice and ask like everything’s cool. “What do you think of this one?” While I tiptoe around my room waiting for their feedback, my head screams: Damn, I have gone and done it again. Shouldn’t I know by now that nobody wants to see another hot new brainwave from me!
WARNING: IF YOU’RE ALLERGIC TO CHEESY, FEEL FREE TO SKIP THIS ONE. I’ve got a secret that has tugged at my conscience for many months. In my head, there’s been an epic battle: should I expose myself? I knew that if I did, one of two things would happen: you’d either love me or despise me. But the more I’ve kept the truth about myself hidden, the worse I’ve felt about depriving friends and family the one thing I’ve done for many years to acquire the quality of life I’ve lived for at least 15 years.
I’m deeply honoured to be named to the grand jury of the New York Festivals Advertising Awards. Which is a super big deal.
For three weeks, Tope Jemerigbe had waited with nerves on fire for this phone call. Now that she was on it, she knew there was only one answer she could accept from the man on the other end of the line. That man, Tarek Abdelnabi, must make up his mind today or Tope and her people would be out of time. Tope didn’t like to be out of time.
Bankulli is a big man– when he stands beside my 5ft 9.5″ I feel he’s 7ft tall. But he also knows how to perfectly fade into the background. This is probably his superpower. He helps other people shine by staying out of their way.
First of all, all my guys are ballerz. For this reason, they’re also drinkers. Now, even though I myself have never had a drink in my life, sometimes I buy the beer for them because, you know, that’s what good friends do. But this year, I’ve decided to join the boys at the bar. Why? I’m way over 18 years old, I like to have fun, and I’m a self-respecting baller. Naturally I need to pick a beer for this next level and my choice is “33” Export. Why “33”, you ask? Easy. Because “33” is just like me. Look, …
