Every Revolution Begins With A Spark.

This write-up is a short review of “The Power,” a series exclusive to Amazon Prime.


Imagine being an ordinary person living a regular life when suddenly, you experience a jolt of electricity in your hands followed by the realization that you have the power to electrocute people. While this power may seem cool at first, it comes with an inconvenient side effect where the carrier sometimes feels sparks of electricity, which can be embarrassing, especially in public situations like meetings.

However, if you can overlook the inconvenience, this power could be very useful, especially for women who face various forms of oppression in society. For instance, it would be liberating to wear whatever length of dress or shirt one desires, without worrying about being raped. If anyone tries to attack, they will be met with their demise. Additionally, one could feel safe in public transportation and defend themselves against kidnappers or robbers.

This power would also come in handy when dealing with unwanted sexual advances or harassment from men. A visit to a man’s house would no longer be frightening, and a simple electrified slap could teach body-shaming men a lesson.

Overall, this power could be a game-changer for women, allowing them to feel safe and empowered in situations that were once dangerous and uncomfortable.

Girl with electrocuting powers


  1. Allie/Allison: In the opening scene, we meet Allie, a character who is attending a therapy session with her foster parents due to her mutism. However, despite her lack of verbal communication, she possesses a unique aspect to her personality – an inner voice that speaks to her. While there is little information provided about her past before her foster care placement, there is no mention of her biological parents.
  2. Roxy: A product of an illicit affair between her parents. In the first scene, she has a friendly interaction with her mom, where she goes as far as calling her mother a slut and they both laugh about it. They act more like sisters than mother and daughter. Her parents are not together. She has a rich father who pretends to care about her in private conversations with her, but never claims her with his other children in public. Nobody knows she is his daughter. He kept her a secret.
  3. Jos: Although she is the daughter of a mayor, her character is not fully clear to me. However, one aspect that stands out is her dislike towards her mother, leading her to resent her and even participate in online trolling against her mother.


The girls with this unique ability experience a tingling sensation in their chest, and occasionally, they encounter an electric shock. Interestingly, some of them have the power to burn a person to death by merely pressing their hands against them. Others can start a fire using their hands, and a few possess the ability to cause a power outage.

Alison had been living with her foster parents, but unfortunately, her foster father was abusing her. The situation was made even more disturbing by the fact that her foster mother was aware of the abuse and chose to ignore it. She would blast loud music to drown out the noise coming from upstairs. One day, when her foster father attempted to rape her, a voice in Alison’s head urged her to use her power to defend herself. Without hesitation, she used her hand to electrocute him, and fled the house for good.

Many minor female characters in the story also possessed the same extraordinary ability. Medical experts conducted extensive research and observations and discovered that this power was not just a genetic mutation, but rather the development of a new organ called a skein. This organ seemed to grow predominantly in girls who experienced abuse and were not protected from the violence associated with sexism, misogyny, homophobia, and many other forms of discrimination. In essence, this power seemed to be prevalent among girls who had been let down by society. Basically girls that have been failed by society.

Consider the mistreatment, discrimination, and hostility that individuals face simply because they are female, and it becomes clear that all girls and women require access to this power. Society is predominantly male-oriented and designed to benefit men.

In the past, women were not considered as equals. They were not treated with respect and were not allowed to participate in discussions with men. They were not considered capable of making decisions for themselves and instead, the men in their lives had complete control over their lives. If the woman was unmarried, her father made the decisions for her, and after his death, the responsibility was passed on to her brother. If she got married, her husband took over the decision-making, and if he died, it was passed on to her son. This treatment of women was demeaning and unfair.

In the series, the electrical superpower rapidly spread across the globe, reaching countries like Romania, Nigeria, the United States, Saudi Arabia, the United Kingdom, and beyond. Despite the increasing occurrences of this phenomenon, world leaders were clueless about its true nature, and some dismissed it as a hoax. As a result, girls with this power resorted to using it to defend themselves against those who would harm them solely for being female. However, instead of protecting them, the leaders declared these girls as terrorists and murderers, passing severe laws such as the death penalty and imprisonment to punish them. In certain nations like Saudi Arabia, possessing this superpower became a banned offense, punishable by law.

As the show’s plot unfolded, I realized that the superpower had more applications beyond electrocuting wrongdoers. It also had the ability to bring dead animals and humans back to life. Allison demonstrated this power twice – once when she revived a dead bird and again when she cured her friend of a seizure.

One of the characters that stood out to me in the show was Roxy. I particularly enjoyed the scene where she demanded that the bouncer at the club entrance smile. It was a powerful moment that highlighted the reality of how women are treated and the role reversal was cleverly executed by the writers. By having men experience what women go through on a daily basis, Roxy challenged the status quo and turned the tables. The scene also shed light on how women cannot just exist in their own space without being policed and told how to behave, when to smile, and why.

On a personal level, I have been told to smile more on numerous occasions, which I find quite upsetting. I don’t understand why someone feels entitled to dictate how I should behave. I have never seen men being told to smile more or being criticized for not smiling. Even when a man is being disrespectful, and one frowns to show disapproval, they may still accuse you of being uptight or unable to take a joke, which is frustrating.

The principle of cause and effect states that every action has a consequence. It was therefore unsurprising when men reacted to the newfound power of women by creating their own ideologies to combat it. This is a reflection of today’s society where we see “alpha males” such as Andrew Tate and other “banger boys” on Twitter or in podcasts. These men spread their toxic ideas to impressionable young men. In the series, there was a faceless YouTuber who always criticized the Mayor, a strong supporter of the power, and his son was a fan of the YouTuber’s extreme views.

In one scene, the boy’s father told him that the girls in his school misused their power because they liked him. This is a line that is often used to dismiss girls’ complaints about being bullied by boys in their class. “Stop being so dramatic, Ada. He’s just being mean to you because he likes you and wants your attention.”


Tunde, another major character in the show, played a significant role as an ally to the girls.

An ally is someone who acknowledges their own privilege and utilizes it to assist individuals who may face inequality due to various factors.

Tunde, a journalist who defies his father’s wishes by running a YouTube channel where he shares captivating stories, plays a significant role in the show. In his first scene, he meets with his colleague and friend Ndudi, who informs him about a story she’s trying to uncover: a gathering of young women with the power. She intends to record the meeting and upload it for the world to see. Tunde, who doesn’t believe in juju, dismisses her, telling her to get serious and stop the nonsensical talk. However, when he receives a powerful electric shock while kissing his girlfriend, he recalls his friend’s story and starts his own investigation to find the location of the meeting.

After Tunde successfully found the meeting place, Ndudi was unfortunately injured by one of the girls in attendance. Tunde captured the incident on his camera, and without obtaining Ndudi’s consent, decided to publish the video.

After the video went viral, renowned journalists from major news outlets such as CNN began reaching out to Tunde, who failed to acknowledge Ndudi’s contribution and took all the credit for himself. He embarked on a journey to various countries, conducting interviews with women and documenting it as his own story, despite the fact that it was actually Ndudi’s story.

Although Tunde was hypocritical at times, he remained a strong ally to women and leveraged his platform to amplify their struggles.

Did you find this sneak peek of the series enjoyable?

The series still has more to offer and can be viewed on Amazon Prime Video.

New episodes are released every Friday

If you want a more detailed review, you can click the link below.


Thank you for taking the time to read.



REBORN: Transition from Christianity, to being Irreligious.

This is the second part of the reborn series. In my last post, Usman, an ex Muslim, shared his opinions on what he thinks about religion, his experience as a Muslim and why he finally left Islam. Also, I had a short QnA session with Yusuf, an Islam scholar. If you have not read that post, kindly do so. Click the link below to read that post.

REBORN: Transition from Islam to being Irreligious

Christianity is a religion that has too many denominations. This is the reason why the experiences people have as Christians differ. Some children absolutely loved growing up in the way of the Lord; they were excited to go to church, they read their bibles without being told to do so, and they basically did everything that a Christian child was expected to do without grumbling.

On the contrary, this is not the case for some other children. Growing up in a Christian home was tough for some children. There were a lot of unnecessary doctrines that were enforced on them, and they had no choice but to obey. Imagine your friends talking about Barney and friends in school, but you cannot relate because you do not have a television set in your house. If your parents were poor, it would even be understandable that the reason you don’t have a television set in your home is because they couldn’t afford it. But no, your parents did not put a television set in their home because one Daddy G.O. somewhere said it was a sin, and his gullible followers accepted it as the gospel truth.

Some children were denied birthdays because of the belief systems of the churches they attended. As a child, you’d think this is normal because you grew up not celebrating your birthday, only to start interacting with the outside world and see that you have been scammed! No cake for you, no birthday songs, no balloons—you don’t even get a special outfit for the day you were born. I will break down in tears. Little me would never have stood for that. That one alone is enough to damage my self-esteem at school. “Everybody brings cake and goodies on their birthdays; what do you mean I cannot participate in that because Pastor Lagbaja said so?”

When you’re a teenager, you have restrictions on the type of clothing you should wear. No trousers, no jewelry; you cannot even use hair extensions as a girl or let your hair grow as a guy. You cannot go to certain spaces. You cannot go to parties with your friends because it is deemed ungodly. The only place you can go is children’s camp. It feels like you’re caged.

There is nothing wrong with doing the things of God, but the problem is the imbalance. Overly religious parents will restrict you from doing things that are not deemed godly by them. For children who like to question the norm, this would be a problem. Some end up just hating everything about God, and they start rebelling. Some don’t even have interest anymore, and they just start counting the days until they can leave the house and have their freedom. Children turn into chameleons. They begin to have two personalities. At home, they pretend; when they leave home, they are their true selves. Of course, when these people get the chance, there is no way they’d remain in something that denied them a lot of experiences, so they’d leave the faith.

Some children were physically abused under the guise of “discipline.” Some parents took “spare the rod and spoil the child too seriously. Imagine going for deliverance because you were naughty and acted the way an eight-year-old child would act. The next thing you know, you’re in church, and they are casting out demons from your body and saying you are possessed. Some people were failed by the church. They were sexually abused by their pastors, but somehow the big mummies in the church didn’t believe their stories, or worse, they found a way to blame the victims for what happened to them.

For some people, they feel betrayed by God. They are disappointed because he didn’t do anything when they were sexually abused by their pastors, and even when the news became public, he didn’t do anything when they were being judged by the public and accused of being seductive to men, so therefore they deserved whatever happened to them. Some people turned away from Christianity because it felt like God had favorites. They kept on experiencing havoc in their lives; they trusted God to help them, but somehow he turned deaf ears on them. For them, there was no point in believing in a superior being that didn’t come through for them.

Some people turned away from Christianity because they didn’t just believe. They had no traumatic experience whatsoever; they just did not want to associate themselves with religion of any kind. These events and many more make a lot of people turn away from Christianity. For some people, it’s a thing of wanting their freedom, and for them to get that freedom, they have to do away with Christianity.

I can go on and on and state reasons why people turn away from Christianity, but the list is endless, so I’ll let it rest here.

Today, I am going to share Joshua’s story. Here is an interview I had with Joshua, who was kind enough to talk a little about his life, his experience as a religious kid, and why he turned away from Christianity. Joshua is an architectural designer based in Port Harcourt, Nigeria. He has a bachelor’s degree in building technology from Covenant University. He is a man in his thirties disguised as a twenty-something-year-old Gen Z. In his spare time, he is a Twitter troll and likes to start chaos, but overall, he is a brilliant guy.


My words are in bold, while his words are in regular font.


Hello Jay. Thank you so much for taking out time to do this interview with me. How are you doing?

Hi Faye, I am doing very well, thank you. How are you?

I am fine. Thanks for asking.

Can you please introduce yourself to us, tell us who you are, and what you do?

My name is Joshua. I am an Architectural Designer. Currently, I work as the director of operations at a real estate firm, based in Alabama. I am also looking to start a career in data analysis. In my free time, you would either catch me researching about abstract subjects, or watching documentaries on astronomy, history, wars and occasional, crime documentaries. I am a big football supporter too. I am rooting to see Arsenal win the league. Also, I play video games.

Wow, your life seems interesting! I would like to swap lives with you for like twenty four hours to really get a feel of your personality. What do you say?

Absolutely! Let’s do it.

To the agenda of today, can you share your religious background? Were you born into a religious family?

Oh yes! Like most of the southern population, I was born religious. A Christian. My maternal family are super religious people. My grandfather was a pastor and the general overseer of the church I attended at the time. A few of my uncles are pastors too.

Did you enjoy going to church? Were you an active kid or the one they had to force to go to church?

I wouldn’t say I was forced to attend, especially in my early years, but I was never really excited to go to church talk more of, participating in church activities because, I was not interested in church activities. I was never the child that recited memory verses, sang in children’s choir, acted in children’s drama, or did chorography and all those church stuff that children were made to do. I didn’t even read my bible daily, I pretended to fast when everyone was asked to, basically I did not like the idea of church or the things done in church. I just went to church because everyone in my house went. It was something I saw everyone do, so I did it too. There was a routine, Monday to Friday was reserved for school and Sunday was for church. No questions asked. No alternative. No contrary routine. It was the norm I was accustomed to.

Why did you go to Covenant University, knowing that it is a Christian school and you are not exactly a fan of religion.

That was my father’s decision. He wanted me to school there. It was not my decision to make. If it was up to me though, I would have gone for a university that did not impose religious activities. Where students had the free will to do what they thought was best for them.

How did you survive in a university like Covenant, where life there is 80% church and 20% school? How did you navigate your life as an irreligious person in an overly religious atmosphere?

Well, in CU, we often had religious activities, and it was compulsory to attend. There were consequences for not attending but those consequences did not scare me enough for most of my time there, so I did not attend. It is a thing of, you can do whatever you feel like, you can decide to break the school’s rule, but don’t get caught! Na who dem catch be thief. I attended CU church activities diligently in my first year. I mean, I was a fresher. I did not know the ropes of avoiding church services, but from my second to my fourth year, I barely attended. Although in my third year, I had this lecture that was always immediately after the service so I just had to attend church in order not to show up for the class late because once you are late, you wouldn’t be let in. Also, in my fifth year, the rules became stricter so I started taking church-going seriously. I would attend, talk with my friends the entire time, so it didn’t even feel like I was in church.

What were your struggles with Christianity?

A lot of stories in the Bible did not make any sense to me. With my knowledge on the scientific facts behind the formation of the universe, there is no way I can believe stuff like, ”let there be light” brought us here. Or that the earth was completely flooded. I’d be damned if I believe that a man was in the stomach of a fish for days. How is it possible to split a sea? Have you seen one before? Like how does that make sense? How can two loaves of bread feed five thousand people? Abeg now. All these stories are ridiculous, sounds like fiction to me. Not real, and they certainly did not happen.

Hmm. Can you remember the exact age you said to yourself ”I cannot keep up with this type of ideology” When did you make that decision?

Hmm. I do not remember a particular age. It is never that easy to tell. You don’t easily walk away from something you have believed as true all your life. Although, during a phase in secondary school, I was of the opinion that, there was a god but not the one from the bible.

What do your family members think about your new found path.

My mom is mostly indifferent. I don’t know how she feels. It is not a secret that I have zero interest in religion. However, on some days, I occasionally go to church, to please my Nigerian mother. I still indulge her because she is my mom and I want to make her happy.

For my siblings, I don’t know what they think about my stance on religion and frankly, whatever they think, is not my problem.

How is your life as an irreligious person? How do you navigate your daily activities without starting your day with a prayer.

I just start my daily activities lol. Prior to totally doing away with Christianity for good, I wasn’t even doing the things an average Christian did. I didn’t pray before sleeping at night or after waking up in the morning. I didn’t read my Bible.

Do you have any regrets?

Regrets? No. Right from childhood, I have never really cared for religion so I had no regrets when I finally removed my hands from it.

Do you think your younger self would be proud of you?

He is proud. My younger self never cared for religion so for him, this is a dream come true.

Do you believe in the after life?

No, I don’t.

I know you said you don’t believe in the after life, but what do you think happens after death?

Nothing. A person that dies stops existing. Simple and short.

There is no heaven or hell. It’s all fantasy.

Thank you Jay, for doing this interview with me.

Thank you for having me.

THE END. Thanks for reading.

What do you think about Joshua’s story? Please share your thoughts in the comments box down below.


REBORN: Transition From Islam To Being Irreligious.

Religion is a major deal in Africa, particularly Nigeria. Most people are religious even before they acquire the sense of reasoning to decide and follow what they choose to believe in. Christianity and Islam are the two main religions in Nigeria. These are the religions that, in Nigeria, really matter in the grand scheme of things. For example in politics, it’s always advisable for a Christian to have a Muslim running mate, or a Muslim to have a Christian running mate. Nobody roots for a traditional worshipper or someone who doesn’t worship Adonai or Allah.

I am of the opinion that, religion should be a thing of choice. However, this is not the case in Nigeria. Most of us were either born into Christianity or Islam. We were conditioned in religion and we had to follow whatever religion we found our parents in. In time past, Christians only married Christians, and Muslims only married Muslims because they didn’t want any form of clash or contradiction in their household. However, people these days are becoming liberal and more accepting. You’d see a case of a Muslim man being married to a Christian woman and vice versa. These marriages have no issues and last longer than people expect them to.

Ramadan, in Islam, is the ninth month of the Muslim calendar and the holy month of fasting. During this period, all Muslims, be they poor or rich, take this period very seriously. This made me really curious to find out why it was soo important for all Muslims to fast. Not to be a judge of anybody’s way of life, but even Muslims that in essence aren’t really good people, take this fast seriously too. I had questions like, is it compulsory? What happens to a Muslim that refuses to partake in the fast? Are there consequences, and if yes, what are the consequences? I thought of contacting the one Muslim friend I have, to ask him some questions and write my findings in my blog. I was still contemplating this move when the universe said “Hold my beer” and sent someone to me without me actively searching.

I met Usman at my local government during a CDS meeting. One thing led to another, we began talking, and I found him really interesting. I asked if I could share his story on my blog and he laughed. He thought I was joking until I showed him my blog and he said no problem. And so here we are.

Usman’s Story

“I was born into a family of 8; my parents, two sisters, three brothers and I. My father was quite liberal so he gave us the free will to choose whatever religion we wanted to follow. My mother, on the other hand, is a conservative. A very religious woman and she didn’t want to hear it when we refused to go to the mosque.”

At the age of 16, I started attending an Islamic school. It was quite tough there. I had to learn, well in my case, cram a lot of stuff. Failure to recite the Quran readings well was an invitation to serious flogging and punishment.

I was a curious child while growing up. I didn’t understand a lot about Islam. I asked questions and most of the time, I was shunned. “You are asking too many questions” “Don’t think that deep now, just do it” One thing about me is I have an issue with doing stuff without knowing the WHY. Why am I here? Why should I do this? Why should I not go there? Why should I not touch that? I like knowing these things because I like to weigh my options.

Prior to leaving Islam, I was already rebelling. I didn’t join in the Ramadan fast. I didn’t pray five times a day, I just lived my life. Even my sisters left the faith. They both got married to Christian men so they had to convert. As I said, my father was a very liberal man so he didn’t oppose when they brought their Christian husbands. He blessed them.

During the Ramadan period, we had Sari before we began our fast. Sari is the breakfast taken before the fast. The fast starts at 5:30am and ends at 7pm. Whenever I went to my sisters’ houses during the Ramadan period, they offered me food and I never refused it. I mean, how will I go to my sister’s house and say I’m not eating their food.

My hot take is, you cannot get to your peak if you are too deep in religion. This is because religion is limiting. It restricts you. You cannot think too deeply for fear that you might offend God. They say God has given you free will but there is a lot of do nots, can nots. So where is this free will? I feel that is contradictory.

My experiences in the university helped me open my mind to other religions apart from Islam. I schooled in Benin Republic. There are three major religions in Benin Republic. There is Christianity, Islam, and my favourite, Vodun.

Vodun is commonly known as Voodoo. Voodoo is a derogatory name created by Westerners. Other correct spellings include Vodou, and Voudon. It originated in the ancient kingdom of Dahomey (present-day, Nigeria, Benin Republic and Togo). The Vodun worshippers had a festival called the Zangbeto festival.

The Zangbeto festival is celebrated every three years. During the festival, the Zangbetos appease the gods, pray for the immediate community and offer good wishes for every household in the community. After this is done, the farmers and fishermen expect to reap a plentiful harvest.

The Zangbeto masquerade is clothed in something called, “AsoGbeto”. This clothing is made from locally sourced palm leaves and it is used to perform spectacular showmanship impressing its audience with magical and spirited displays.

Image source: The Sun Nigeria

Zangbetos never walk alone. They are always accompanied by minders known as Kregbetos, whose role is to guide the masquerade’s every step.

I liked attending the Zangbeto festival. I loved watching the power display. I saw the gods perform miracles that I would never have believed if someone came and told me. I saw them with my naked eyes. There was nothing like, “pray now and see what God will do for you” Everything the gods did was instant. If I changed my mind about religion, I’d definitely be a Vodun Worshipper.

I decided to leave the Muslim faith at the age of twenty-five. I am not an atheist. I believe in supernatural powers. I believe there are forces superior to mortals. I believe there are immortal beings but I don’t just associate myself with any religion. This is because I am a free thinker. I do not like the restrictions and fear that come with religion.

I am a free thinker or maybe humanist. I believe in the existence of God or gods. I believe the universe was created by God but I also believe that natural laws determine how the universe plays out. Everyone has a conscience. Everyone knows bad from good, so this is exactly what everyone should live by. Just do the right thing and live a good life.”


While I was still conversing with Usman, a Muslim brother who referred to himself as a Muslim Scholar, was eavesdropping on our conversation. He asked if he could join the conversation and provide some answers to my questions and of course, I said yes. The conversation went on for a very long time and it ended abruptly because CDS was over and it was time for us to sign our attendance. So I never got to ask his name but for the purpose of this post, let’s call him Yusuf.

The next section of this blogpost is going to be a QnA interview. I asked him random questions and this is what Yusuf had to say.

Faye: Are there consequences or punishments for Muslims that do not partake in the Ramadan fast?

Yusuf: Well, Allah is the judge of all things and he decides the eventual fate of people that disobey him but in the Quran, it was mentioned that fasting should be done by people who believe in Allah. It is a directive from Allah. So people who do not fast are disobeying Allah. And there are always consequences for disobeying.

Faye: What do Muslims believe happens after death? Is there something like hellfire?

Yusuf: Yes, there is Heaven and there is Hellfire. Unbelievers will end up in Hellfire if they do not repent before they die.

Faye: In Christianity, we have several denominations and some Christian beliefs are not the same. Some believe that you’d go to hell for wearing jewelry or attaching wigs to your hair et cetera. Does Islam also have different denominations and beliefs?

Yusuf: I wouldn’t say different denominations, but we do have different schools of thought. There are four main schools of thought and different Muslims decide on which to follow. These philosophies were made by scholars who read the Quran and in their own understanding, wrote down their philosophies.

Yusuf: There are five things you’d have to believe in before you become a worshipper of Allah.

1. Believe in God

2. Believe in his angels (they are spirits)

3. Believe in his prophets (Muhammad is the last prophet)

4. Believe in destiny. Believe that everything comes from God. Human beings might do mistakes.

5. Believe in the Holy Book, Quran. Believe in death, paradise, and hellfire.

Faye: With what you have said, I noticed that there are similarities between Christianity and Islam. Would you like to touch on that? Can you talk about the similarities and differences?

Yusuf: Yes. Islam and Christianity used to be the same religion. In fact, some of your Bible characters were talked about in the Quran. We Muslims do not believe that Jesus Christ is the son of God. It is not possible for God to have a son. He is a supernatural being. We believe that Jesus is a prophet of God.

When Jesus came, he talked about Mohammed coming to the earth to continue from where he stopped and he pleaded that people accept him.

Prophet Mohammed took longer than expected. People then thought, they misunderstood Jesus’s word and they went on to live their lives. When he came eventually, some believed he was the one according to how Jesus Christ had said it. The ones that did not believe, pulled out from Islam and went to form their own group which is called Christianity.

Faye: Muslim men are fond of marrying more than one wife and I heard it’s allowed as long as he takes care of all of them.

Yusuf: Not just taking care of them. Allah permits men to marry more than one wife on the condition that, he must love all of them equally. Personally, I don’t think Muslim men should take more than one wife because I don’t think it is possible to love different women equally. But those that think they are up to the task, they can do that.


Hi readers, thank you for reading. What do y’all think about Usman’s story and Yusuf’s beliefs?


IMPORTANT NOTICE: This may be my last post for a while. I have some projects and I might not have time to upload new content. Please bear with me during this period.

SEX WORK ❌: Sky Rojo Review

Disclaimer: This is not your regular series review.

TRIGGER WARNING!!!!!!: Rape, physical abuse, sexual exploitation, non-consensual operations, violence.


Prior to watching this series, I was a firm supporter of sex work. I mean, we live in the 21st century and everyone has a right to do whatever they feel comfortable doing. This series sheds light on many dark events that occur in sex work. It made me realize that sex work is not black or white. There are so many grey areas. It’s not straightforward and it’s definitely not as easy as it looks.

Sky Rojo is a Spanish series on Netflix that sheds light on the harsh reality of prostitution and how most women & girls end up in sex work. It shows the ugly experiences of prostitutes and how men are the cause of this problem. This series tells the story of three victims who risked their lives to get out of their pimp’s traffic network.

According to the Scelles Foundation’s ‘5th Global Report on Sexual Exploitation’, ”Prostitution… is the commodification of human beings. It is the outrageous exploitation of the bodies of women, children, and an increasing number of men.”

Prostitution is the world’s oldest profession. The industry has been thriving and it seems it would continue to thrive as long as men are in existence. They are the target market of this business.

Prostitution is not a glamorous profession. You don’t ask a six-year-old girl what she wants to become in future and she says a sex worker. Circumstances make one venture into prostitution. Ugly circumstances like poverty, sex trafficking, poverty again, sex addiction, drug addiction, and so on. The list is endless. People have their reasons for getting into prostitution.

I wish I could say women shouldn’t engage in sex work, but it would be my privilege blinding my eyes and sense of reasoning. The main enemy here is poverty. Poverty has left women no choice but to engage in sex work.

Another enemy is sex trafficking. Some women don’t even wish to engage in sex work. They are deceived by wicked men and told that they would get modeling or ushering jobs and when they get involved, they find out that it was all a lie. A woman that has been trafficked struggles to leave the system because she’s afraid that she’s going to be killed. Also, who’s going to save them? Nobody! So they just remain there and try to make the best out of their situation.

The right thing for me to say is, I wish women didn’t have to engage in sex work. I wish the world was a better place. I wish men would for once, leave women alone and stop exploiting them sexually. I wish the system was better for women.


Coral, Wendy, & Gina

Coral: The leader of the trio. Romeo’s favourite girl, love interest and nanny for his daughters. Oh, lest I forget, a junkie. A victim of domestic violence. She suffered and endured abuse for years from her ex-husband before she found the courage to poison him. Unfortunately, her plan backfires and she ends up killing his mother instead. She flees her home and ends up in the club. The club is supposed to be an escape for her, but it is much more than she bargained for.

Weakness: Drugs, drugs, and more drugs.


Wendy: The smartest of the trio. A woman with a regular life who got into the pimp’s organization to raise money to live a better life with her girlfriend.

Weakness: Her choice of friends.


I- (drinks water).

Hmm. Where do I start with this Gina babe? Okay, Gina.

Gina: The least smart of the trio. A naive woman. The most vulnerable of the trio mostly, because of her maternal instinct. Prior to working as a sex worker in Spain, she was living in Cuba with her parents and her son. She was deceived that she was coming to Spain, to work as a waitress. She got there and found out that it was a sham.

Weakness: Foolishness, naivety, children & family bond.



Roméo, Moises & Christian

Roméo: A pimp that runs a sex club filled with trafficked women. A full-time abuser, scum, bastard, rapist, murderer, and narcissist. An unfaithful husband and a father in his spare time.

Weakness: Coral, Coral, Coral, greed, and unforgiveness.


Moises: Trafficker. Roméo’s right-hand man aka Romeo’s full-time cock-sucker. A murderer. Coral’s love interest. He was just 15 years old when he started working for Romeo. He killed his abusive father and reached out to Romeo to help him ‘take care’ of the body. He felt indebted to Romeo and started working for him in the trafficking business. He saw Romeo as a father figure and did all his shady business without question.

Weakness: Coral, Roméo, Christian, & his mother.


Christian: An entitled, spoilt brat. Drug addict. A failure. A lost cause. A murderer. A rapist. A bully. Moises’s younger brother. Moises’s right-hand man. He goes everywhere Moises goes, and anything he saw his brother do, was justified to him so he did it (x100).

Weakness: Moises & his mother.


Ladies & Gentlemen, Shall We???

This show begins with a funeral. Roméo has just lost his wife to cancer. He shuts down his club for the day as a way to honour and respect his late wife. After the funeral, he decides to throw a party. A big party! During the party, a scene shows where Romeo is alone in his office. Coral, one of his sex workers and side chic, comes in to console him. A little chit-chat and the next thing, he’s caressing her and forcefully trying to sleep with her. She fights hard to pull away. At that moment, Gina, another sex worker walks in. Immediately, Coral leaves.

Gina drops a wad of cash on Romeo’s table with a broad smile on her face saying something like, “This is what I owe you, I’d like to take my leave now.” Romeo takes the money and then brings out his book of record where he keeps information about all the girls that work for him. He starts to list everything he got for Gina for her work. Things like condoms, wigs, clothes etc. He says her debt had increased and the money she gave him was not enough to clear her debt.

Gina starts to plead with Romeo. She pleads with him to let her go for a short while. She complains about her mental health and wants a different environment to clear her head.

One argument leads to another and you guys will not believe what Gina did. This babe carries the cover of an alcoholic wine bottle to hit Romeo on his head. I’m like “Chelsea come on nowwwww”, did you even think this through? Or are you just a stupid babe? Turns out she’s a stupid babe lol.

Of course, Romeo is shocked at her audacity. Soon he recovers from his shock. This man carried a pen and stabbed this girl multiple times in her breast area. He ignored her cries and screams. All of a sudden he stopped, I was happy for her. I didn’t know that this man was just about to start. The multiple stabs were him warming up to really deal with Gina.

Romeo carried a pocket knife and pointed it at her. Gina is crying and pleading but he doesn’t listen. It was at this moment, Coral and Wendy came to her rescue. Wendy hit him hard on the head with a metallic object. A normal human being would have passed out at this moment but that ogbanje (devilish person) Romeo did odeshi (hard head) and rushes for Wendy. He violently hits her head on the glass window and starts choking the girl.

Coral stared and watched. She couldn’t take it anymore so she carried that same metallic object and hit him harder on the head! This time, his skull cracked and there was blood everywhere.

This is where the story begins…

The producer did a fantastic job with flashbacks. Through the use of flashbacks, we got to know the horrors faced by some of the women in the sex organization.

I was talking to a tweep on Twitter and he was telling me that sex work should be done with the consent of the women, if not, it shouldn’t be encouraged.

I’d say that (ignoring the reality of why most women, go into sex work) I do not think, sex work should even be a thing whether it’s done with their consent or not.

This is because men do not have boundaries. You both will agree to do one thing before sex, during sex, he’d started acting like a wild animal that cannot be tamed.

After supposedly killing Romeo, the girls flee the club. That same night, a client from the club sees the girls and offered Wendy money to sleep with him, which she refuses. At this point, she’s no longer into the sex worker life. This man grabbed her and forcefully rapes her. Wendy feels crushed. The day she finally had the strength to say no, her no couldn’t save her from men without boundaries. He still saw her as the girl from the club that didn’t get to say no to sexual advances.

Sex work comes with a lot of degrading acts performed on women. The men that patronize sex work do not see them as human beings. They see them as puppets or mere objects. They feel like, because they pay for sex, they have the right to do anything they feel like to these women.

I mean, which normal human being gets turned on by pissing on someone’s body or getting pissed on. That is one of the most degrading acts you can do to someone.

Sex work is not a kind of work where consent is regarded.

Highlights of traumatic events that the victims went through in Sex Rojo.

1. Wendy: She was raped by multiple men in the show. One of these men was Christian who sodomized her even after she told him that she did not enjoy anal sex. She pleaded that she could do any other act, but anal sex was off-limits, this man didn’t care. He still raped her.

2. Anita (not her real name): She was flat-chested. I wonder if the men didn’t notice that before trafficking her, but along the line they knew and they forcibly performed breast enlargement surgery on her even after she pleaded that she wasn’t comfortable altering her body.

3. Patricia (not her real name): She got pregnant for one of the clients and she got blamed for not being careful enough. She badly wanted to keep the baby, but they told her it was bad for business so they performed an abortion on her without her consent.

4. These women didn’t have breaks for themselves at all. Every day of the year, they were always at the beck and call of men. One time, one of them had mental health issues and just wanted to take a break for a while. Roméo refused. He said God gave whores menstrual periods for rest. So whatever rest they need should be done during that time. According to him, that time was more than enough and women didn’t need any more breaks.

Gina’s story was the most heartbreaking one for me. She was trafficked by Moises from Cuba to Spain. She was given the impression that she was coming for a waitress job. Later she got to Spain and found out that it was a lie. Feeling trapped there, there was no way she could go back to her family. On one occasion, she called her mom and told her everything that had been happening.

Her mother told her that she knew what she was really doing in Spain but she should continue because Romeo was paying their bills and they couldn’t afford to lose the money they were collecting.

At this point, Gina was crushed. She couldn’t believe her mother had been selling her and didn’t see anything wrong with it. In reality, first daughters are mostly victims of trafficking. This is because, they are desperate to make money to provide for their family at all cost, and then they fall victims of trafficking.

For sex work to work well as a profession, it has to be regulated, by WOMEN. This is why we need MODERN WOMEN, and not just any woman in government. I do not trust traditional women to do the job. They will disappoint because, they are mostly pick mes that pander for men’s validation.

Firstly, men need to understand what consent is. Most men do not know what consent is. They don’t know a woman can still change her mind about having sex, even after foreplay. A woman can decide to kiss a man and not go beyond that. Some men feel like, a kiss is enough green light. “She has let me kiss her, what do you mean by she doesn’t want to have sex”

A woman flirting with a man doesn’t mean she wants to have sex with him. No means No and Yes means Yes. If a man doesn’t get express consent from a woman, he should leave her alone. He should coerce her or make her feel guilty about saying no. Even a sex worker has every right to say no. Her being a sex worker doesn’t mean she wants to have sex every day of the week.

Men need to stop being so entitled about women’s bodies. A lot of men see women as objects only for sexual pleasure. One time, a grown man in his mid 30s told me point blank to my face that he didn’t need women for anything, except sex. So to him, the only importance of a woman is her body. She is only in his life because of sex.

There’s nothing rewarding about sex work. It leaves a woman with insecurities, trauma, emotional damage, low self esteem, physical damage, psychological damage, and a whole lot of pain. Sex work damages a woman. Take Coral for example, she abused drugs because it was a form of escapism for her. When she was high on drugs, she didn’t think of her reality and she felt better. But the down side of it was, she got so addicted that she couldn’t function like a proper human being because of the negative effects of drug abuse. Those drugs made her make bad decisions that someone in their right senses would never have made.

I want better for women.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the rights to any of the images used in this blogpost.

My experience as an Eko Corper

“Dem go born mumu, dem go born mumu, if dem no wan marry corper, dem go born mumu!“

– Man O’ War official

Nollywood scarred my younger self in a lot of ways. The Nysc experience was one I didn’t want. Mainly because of how some Nollywood movies, depicted Corpers and their experiences.


The full meaning of NYSC is National Youth Service Corps. It was in camp I got to know the “corps” is pronounced CORE and not CORPSE. Like why did they even set us up like that. Nysc is a one year mandatory program that was set up by the Nigerian Military Government to involve fresh graduates in nation-building and the development of the country. Also, it was also a way for people to travel around Nigeria, get to know people from other cultures, and interact with those cultures.

Nysc is not really as mandatory as it used to be. Before you couldn’t work anywhere in Nigeria without the certificate to show that you had passed the program. Also, people that had plans to travel out of the country to settle there, didn’t bother doing nysc because it was of no use to them.

Nowadays, private organizations in Nigeria do not really look for nysc certificates. As long as you have the skills they need, they’d employ you. But if you want to run office in a political space later in the future, it is advisable to do the nysc program. A woman lost her political office because she didn’t have the nysc certificate.

Nysc used to be a thing of pride. Infact, wearing the uniform alone, was a thing of pride. Nysc corpers were well respected by people in the society. Nysc corpers would enter buses without paying transport fare. In situations where they had to pay, some Good Samaritans offered to pay for them. Corpers were regarded as “Government pikin” People on the streets hailed them.

People dreamt of going to serve cos they wanted the respect and privileges that corpers got. Nysc is still a thing of pride for some people.

Nysc corpers on the parade ground.

Growing up, I heard a lot of horror tales about nysc. Mainly from Nollywood. I would watch movies where corpers were killed in the remote villages they were posted to, or movies where corpers went and played with the figurine god, and in the process, messed with some village deity and then, brought problems into their lives. If you have watched, The Figurine, by Kunle Afolayan, you’d know what I’m talking about.

Those stories scared me. I loved life too much, easy life at that, and this was quite evident in my life then. Little wonder my parents called me Etisalat, because Etisalat had a new call plan that was called “Easy Life”.

I couldn’t imagine risking my life to go for a program that I could unknowingly, incur the wrath of some ruthless god, and in the process, possibly get killed.

Another thing that discouraged me from nysc, was the fact that you couldn’t control where you’d be posted to. I didn’t want to end up in some remote village where I’d have to be fetching water from the stream or bathing in open spaces.

As I grew older, I understood that Nysc wasn’t as rugged and bad, as how it used to be before. I still did not have interest in it because to me, it felt like a waste of time and energy. However, my parents encouraged me to go for it. Scrap that, they forced me. I had no other choice. It was either NYSC or NYSC. I sat myself down and encouraged myself that the experience wasn’t going to be so bad. Even if it’s bad, it cannot be as bad as my uni experience where I was stuck for 5 years. “Two weeks max, and you wouldn’t have to deal with anybody from that place ever again” That was what I told myself .

During that period, I took a quick trip to Italy. Before I went to Italy, I was feeling discouraged because, most of my friends were going for nysc before me. I couldn’t meet up with their batch (batch 1) and had to wait for batch 2. I wasn’t happy at all. I didn’t know how I’d cope with interacting with new people and making new friends. Thinking about it now, I’m glad I didn’t go with their batch. I would have missed a lot of fun.

When I got back from Italy, this thought had vanished. I saw life differently, and couldn’t wait to go for nysc. I wanted the experience. I wanted to meet new people. I wanted my camp experience to be good. I mean, how bad could it be? A part of me really wanted to go for the NYSC program, and make the best out of the experience while, the other part of me was trying to trick my mind and the universe so I’d enjoy the experience.

At this point, people who were in camp were always complaining and telling me bad stories. Stories of how they stole their clothes, money. Stories of how they had endless activities and boring lectures and so on. I’m like even if they tell me the devil is there, I was going to enjoy myself well in camp.

I worked my nysc posting to the state I wanted to serve. With a touch of God’s grace, and a wonderful plug, I was posted to Lagos for both camp and the remaining months of service year. I was overjoyed because my prayers were answered. I didn’t have to stress myself to travel to some remote village or anywhere outside my comfort zone (Lagos). This development alone, made me more positive for my camp experience. I was so sure, it was the beginning of things working for my favor in camp.


Few days to camp, I started prepping myself for the new phase of my life (NYSC). A day to camp, I went to the market to buy some provisions, white tees and shorts for camp. As I was shopping for white shoes, I met someone. She introduced herself as Divine. She asked me if I was preparing to go to camp and I said yes. I found out that she was also posted to Lagos camp. Luckily, for the both of us, our houses were close. So we exchanged phone numbers, and agreed to meet each other the following morning, to go to camp together.

The D-day finally came. Divine and I met at our agreed spot and together, we took a ride to camp. On getting to the camp, cars were not allowed into the premises, so we had to carry offload the car outside and drag our boxes inside the compound. Registration at the gate was swift. I did a COVID-19 test and proceeded to the next stage.

Two hours later, I was done with registration and proceeded to my room. It was when I saw the situation of the camp that I realized that I should have carried a smaller box. My luggage was too much and it did not help matters that my room was on the second floor. I looked around for people that help other carry their luggage for a price but I did not see them. I accepted my fate and began dragging my luggage upstairs. I was too tired to carry some up, and go back downstairs for the remaining load, so I dragged everything upstairs at once. Also, I heard a lot of stories about thieves and I did not want a situation where I would leave some of my luggage downstairs and not find them when I got back to carry the rest.

On my way up, I met a fellow corps member on the staircase. She offered to help me with one of my luggage and she went for the bigger one. I was happy and thankful. She helped me locate my room. I later got to know her name was Adaobi. I entered my room to receive the biggest shock of my life. It was a small room with about twenty-six people. The room was congested. There was no sockets. There were no pillows. The mattresses were flat and worn out. The bunks were made of iron and the beds were so flat, that my body could feel the iron. To make matters worse, the bunk was low. As a tall woman, I could not conveniently sit up on my bed without slouching. My head was touching the top bunk and I had to slouch. The corners were so small, my luggage could hardly fit in. I knew I was in for a long bitter ride.

Later that day, Adaobi came to check on me and we began talking. I found out that she was a qualified medical doctor. I was impressed. I liked her vibe and soon, we were talking like old friends.

First night in camp wasn’t so bad. Activities were yet to begin so lowkey we were still flexing. Lagos camp was disappointing ngl. I mean, it’s Lagos! The Lagos that the President-Select claimed he built. I didn’t expect Lagos camp to be paradise but it was too too underwhelming. I’m like if Lagos camp can be like this, how will other states be like? However, I still loved some things about the camp.

One of the memorable things about Lagos camp, was the market. The mammy market was giving “home away from home”. They had good food and lots of options there. I never really went to collect food from nysc kitchen because I knew I had better options.

The waking up time in camp was 5am or thereabouts. I used to wake up by 1am to have my bath, dress up and go back to bed. If I was too tired, I woke up by 2am. It wasn’t something my body was used to but I had to make it work because I did not want to deal with having to stand in a long queue to have my bath. We had 2 toilets and 2 bathrooms for more than 50 people so the queue was always long.

At the sound of the alarm, all corps members would hurry downstairs to assemble on the parade ground. I cannot really remember how the assembly started but at some point, we’d sing the Nysc anthem and then, stand there for long lectures. Then, Muslims would go to the mosque to pray while Christians remained on the assembly ground.

After prayers, we had the early morning drill. The drill was my favorite activity in camp. We would chant songs and then do some body exercises and dance along to the songs played by the DJ.

Image of corpers engaging in the early morning drill

For like 3 days, I didn’t have any friend. Divine was in another room and she had her friends while Adaobi was always in the clinic. So I mostly walked alone. I’d interact with people at the parade ground and all, but when I wanted to have personal gists like friends would have, I didn’t have anyone to talk to but somehow, I was always outside. I never stayed in my room. This was new to me because, anybody that knows me know that I’m a room body. In school, when I wasn’t in class, chapel or cafeteria, you’d always find me in my room, laying on my bed. This has been my lifestyle since secondary school.

Once in a while, I saw my two friends, Adaobi and Divine. One night, after the day’s activities I went to check Adaobi in her room so we’d catch up and gist and I didn’t see her. I noticed her bed was empty, no bedsheet or anything. So I thought she had moved to the clinic to stay there permanently. Only for me to receive a text that she had to leave to attend to urgent matters. I wasn’t happy at all because Adaobi was my closest friend in camp. She’d always check on me and keep me company.

One fateful morning, I went downstairs for the regular morning routine. I wasn’t clear on the line arrangement for platoons, so I asked a girl for directions, and from there, a new friendship began for me. She was in my platoon so we were mostly together.

Derin. My camp buddy. Derin is a delightful soul. A smart babe and a darling. Beautiful soul, beautiful personality. We were also together most times in camp. The only times we weren’t together was SAED lectures. She was interested in catering and I was interested in languages, so we had to part ways when it was time for that.

I was enjoying my camp experience and then, the devil saw I was too happy so he sent someone to try to take that happiness from me.

A realistic image of me having to share space with my bunkmate.

My bunkmate was…, I don’t even know how to describe that one. This human being wasn’t normal. She acted more like a goat than a girl. She was a thorn in my flesh. She didn’t lay her bed. She kept her luggage on her bed. All her stuff was scattered on her bed and occasionally, stuff would drop and hit my head while I was sleeping. She was smelling and dirty. I was so upset. I didn’t get to bond with my other roommates because I never liked staying in the room because of this human being. The few times I managed to stay in the room was hell for me.

Divine was kind enough to try to help me. I don’t know how this babe did it, but she convinced her roommates to let me stay in their room. She was willing to accommodate me. For some reason, I didn’t end up squatting in her room, but I appreciated her kind gesture.

Having a terrible roommate/bunkmate made me go out of my comfort zone more! I decided to join the volleyball team. It was really tedious for me having to stay back for volley ball practices after a long day of compulsory nysc activities. The men in my platoon prepped us to play. Most of us were amateurs and we kind of struggled at first to understand the rules of the game but eventually we did our best.

Parade training was one activity that I never expected to enjoy but I ended up enjoying it. I looked forward to parade rehearsals and even SAED lectures! Anything that would make me not stay in that room.

Image of corps members on the parade ground.

I loved parade a little too much. I put my all in it and was even selected for the final presentation. Some of the soldiers were clowns and they were always making us laugh with their funny statements. Although, some of them went too far by making misogynistic jokes and calling women ashawos, but most of them were respectful and funny. Unfortunately I fell sick and couldn’t participate anymore. Before I fell sick, my morale was drained already. I was mentally exhausted. Parade soon became a chore for me. I no longer enjoyed marching under the hot sun. Fan ice yoghurt was like blood tonic for me. I could take like 6 in a day just to quench my thirst and get myself together.

The SAED lecture is a nice initiative because it’s a way of equipping corps members with skills like hairdressing, catering, soap making, bead making, language learning and so much more.The downside to it, was that, they made us sit down for 5 hours. How do they expect people to stay sane sitting in one place for that long?!

The social nights were mostly boring and disorganized but dance competitions and talent shows brought live to the events. I enjoyed the talent shows. Also, the cultural event was splendid. My platoon (platoon 8) had the best costumes and they won the cultural show! It was a big deal for us because platoon 8 did not really win in competitions.

Soon, I became tired of camp. I had done all the fun things and was so ready to be out of there. The second week was so slow. It felt like forever. However, I still kept my head high. I had made too much mouth of how I was enjoying camp and didn’t want my “enemies” to laugh at me.

Me after the day’s activities

One camp activity that I really looked forward to was Man O’ war. In camp, all the platoons took turns in participating in Man o war drills. They made it compulsory but people still found a way to dodge. During that period, I had issues with my hands, so I couldn’t partake in all the man o war drills but I enjoyed the ones I could do. We chanted some funny songs. I wonder where the lyrist got their inspiration from. Some of the songs were;

Shoe get size, okrika get quality {again, again} We would then proceed to sing this line over and over again

Jeje, we dey go oh, jeje, we dey go o, jeje <inserts further gibberish>

Dem go born mumu, dem go born mumu, if dem no wan marry corper, dem go born mumu! This particular one was funny because it had another version that still insulted corpers for marrying corpers, so either way, everybody na mumu lol. "Dem go born mumu, dem go born mumu, if e corper marry corper, dem go born mumu" 
With that same mouth, they encouraged us to get into relationships with our fellow corpers
Image of corpers being instructed on how to partake in the man o war drill
Man o’ war activity (1)
Man o’ war activity (2)
Man o’ war activity (3)
Man o’ war activity (4)
Man o’ war activity (5)
Man o’ war activity (6)
Man o war activity (7)
Man o war activity (8)
Man o war activity (9)


After what it felt like forever, the end of camp came. On the final day, I was sooo happy and couldn’t wait to leave that environment. We had some farewell activities and we were given our ppa letters.

In conclusion, I’d give my nysc experience a 7/10. I heard stories of theft prior to going there but I’m lucky none of my stuff was stolen. Also the toilet and bathroom situation wasn’t bad. The only problem was the limited access. My room experience was 2/10. I highly do not recommend you living with 25+ people in a space. Nysc was really stressful! I wonder how people engaged in non-related nysc activities. Nysc drained me.

Overall, camp was good. I don’t think I’d ever want to go back there. I think it’s better as a one time experience. I’m grateful for the connections I made with people.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the rights to the images used in this blogpost.



1. Eko – Yoruba word for Lagos. Lagos is a city in Nigeria

2. SAED – Skills Acquisition & Entrepreneurship Department

3. Nollywood – Nigeria’s movie industry. Africa’s largest film industry.

4. Man O War drill – This consists of military exercises.

5. Ashawo – Sex worker/Prostitute. Also used to insult women if they dare challenge the patriarchal system.

PS: This is a summarized version of my camp experience.

The Norm is not Normal

19/03/2023 was Mother’s Day. As always, people celebrated their mothers in different ways. Some people posted their mother’s pictures with some nice captions, acknowledging their impact. Some creatives wrote poems, some designers created art works but one particular artwork, sparked a lot of controversy. It triggered a lot of people, particularly feminists who felt the design was obtuse and condescending to women.

Controversial artwork by Sashdsgns.

When I saw the artwork, there was no uproar. Most people were appreciating the designer’s creativity. Everywhere was fine. I went offline for few hours, only to return to angry takes. People were visibly annoyed by the artwork.

Some people said, they found it disturbing that women are always portrayed as being domestic all the time whereas there is so much to being a mother than just cooking and making sure that everything in the home is in order. A mother is a human being and her life should sometimes revolve around only her and not other people.

Some argued, that mothers have personalities, and designers should take note of that, while drawing future illustrations.

Some called the artwork weird, and said they have no intention of being octopuses. Ngl, that artwork resembles an octopus.

I’m going to share my thoughts from two perspectives.

POV: I am a Feminist

I see how insulting that artwork is, especially to women that do not succumb to the norms of who a mother is. These days, we have seen how much impact women make in the music industry, business industry, tech space, media space and every place where women in the past, did not have a presence. That picture does not represent a mother that is all these things.

Also, that picture is not even the reality of an average Nigerian mother. The picture displays a mother doing all these things and smiling. No mother does this with so much glee on her face. As a new mother who’s trying to meet up to societal standards, she might have no problems doing it and might even be smiling doing all these things, and her smile is because she is feeling fulfilled that she’s indeed a good mother because that Is what society has told her, but as time goes on, she has to deal with the frustration that comes with domestic labour and by then, she’s no longer smiling.

Reality of an average mother. She is not smiling because domestic work and child raising is not a joke. It is not funny.

I remember on my mother’s 50th birthday, people were asked to talk about my mother, and 99% of “appreciation” was based on the fact that she is a good cook, and would make sure no one is unsatisfied, even in cases where she is sick. In my head, I’m like how is this a good thing? Are you people not ashamed? That you would rather a sick woman do things for you, while you, a healthy being with two working hands and legs sit down waiting for that sick woman to serve you.

As a feminist, I see all the wrongs in that artwork. Why do people always feel the need to “celebrate” women as cooks, cleaners, etc. A woman can be, and is soo much more, but that one where a mother overworks herself, is the one people choose to see and celebrate. That is glorifying suffer-head and it should not be encouraged.

Artworks like that are harmful because it gives men the impression that all mothers should be like that and in situations where she’s not like that, then she’s not a great mother. That is why some men get married, and have the audacity to compare their mothers to their wives.

That artwork is giving, STRONG BLACK WOMAN. And I promise you, there is nothing good or rewarding about that tag. The tag “strong black woman” is used to glorify suffering. Men will drain you and except you to be smiling and do it cheerfully. They don’t see women like that as human beings that can feel tired, or get exhausted. They expect women like that, to be up and doing 24/7.

That artwork shows that a mother is not seen as a person but a machine. A machine that works, and works, and works, until it breaks down.

POV: I am a Proverbs 31 woman

In as much as women are doing exploits here and there, it is important to note that, this is still a privilege for a lot of women. The average Nigerian woman is all the things depicted in that artwork. She cooks for the whole family, she washes the clothes of her husband and children, she nurses her sick child, and still have to keep her eyes and senses alert for the other child that is up and playing around the whole house. Some mothers even add their businesses to this workload.

An average Nigerian mother is religious and they do everything the Bible says, LITERALLY. An average Nigerian mother has no problem with multitasking in order to please everyone. I have seen mothers starve in order to make sure her children and husband get something to eat. I have seen mothers do away their ambitions and dreams in other to focus on house work, raising their children and making sure their husbands are happy.

According to the Bible, a proverbs 31 woman does the following,

She looks for wool and linen. She likes to work with her hands.”
‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭31‬:‭13‬ ‭ICB‬‬

She gets up while it is still dark. She prepares food for her family. She also feeds her servant girls.”
‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭31‬:‭15‬ ‭ICB‬‬

She looks at a field and buys it. With money she has earned, she plants a vineyard.”
‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭31‬:‭16‬ ‭ICB‬‬

“She does her work with energy. Her arms are strong. She makes sure that what she makes is good. She works by her lamp late into the night.”
‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭31‬:‭17‬-‭18‬ ‭ICB‬‬

She makes thread with her hands and weaves her own cloth. She welcomes the poor. She helps the needy. She makes linen clothes and sells them. She provides belts to the merchants. She watches over her family. And she is always busy.”
‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭31‬:‭19‬-‭20‬, ‭24‬, ‭27‬ ‭ICB‬‬

Some mothers feel like their only purpose is to serve. Their lives revolves around everyone else but themselves. They multitask to make sure nothing is slacking in any area. In fact, they find fulfillment in that. They do not have corporate jobs. Their housework is their job. That artwork is their reality. Motherhood can be tasking especially for mothers that cannot outsource these things.

My mother would always tell me “A woman is not a visitor anywhere, she must always be ready to serve wherever she finds herself”

If I have severe cramps, and I just want to relax, she’d ask me to bear it and be strong. “You are a woman, you have to be strong. Please, get up and tidy the house. I’m preparing you for tomorrow. Will you tell your children you’re in pain, and you cannot take care of them or will you tell your husband that couldn’t prepare his meal because of menstrual cramps”

I do not blame young women who have decided never to have children. I envy them that they have so much strength to choose themselves and live for themselves.

As a mother, you can never just do what you want. You’d have to consider your husband, your children, and other people before you consider yourself. A mother should be selfless.

My point is, that artwork shows the reality of an average Nigerian mother. However, that reality is not a good one and it shouldn’t be celebrated. Hence the title of this blogpost, The norm is not normal. Mothers deserve a break. Not all mothers can afford to live luxurious lives or outsource their work to other people but they surely deserve to rest. For once, mothers should put themselves first.

This Twitter User summarized my thoughts.

Dear Reader, Please share your thoughts in the comment box, down below.


Women’s Health: Free Bleeding

“I don’t mind rinsing my panties out in the sink, or getting blood in the sheets now and then. I like not feeling like I have failed somehow when a product leaks… Mainly it is just about being comfortable with menstruation. I am not lazy! I am not irresponsible! I just think it is OK to overflow sometimes!” 

—Sarah, All About My Vagina

Menstruation is a topic that is hardly talked about in public spaces. This is due to ignorance, and the stigma associated with menstruation. Some people see menstruation as dirty and something that should be hidden. If a woman unintentionally stains her dress, she is accused of being careless and untidy.

Today’s blogpost is not to talk about how menstruation is normal and why people should get over their feelings and stop policing women, or making women feel embarrassed or disgusting when she stains herself. Today’s blogpost is about Free Bleeding.

Free Bleeding is the act of menstruating without using tampons, pads, or other menstrual products to absorb or collect your flow.

There are different circumstances where a woman may free bleed.

  • When she is not aware that her period would start on a particular day, so unintentionally she free bleeds in her panties.
  • Period poverty. This is where a woman cannot afford period products or she simply does not have the access to period products.
  • In solidarity. This could happen due to the stigma surrounding menstruations. A group of women may decide to intentionally free bleed in a protest to show that there is nothing wrong with getting your period or even getting stained during your period. Women & Girls are called careless for getting stained during their periods. Free bleeding has been used to challenge period stigma and taboos, to protest high prices of period products, and to draw attention to the environmental issues relating to disposable pads and tampons.
  • On purpose. This is when a woman intentionally decides not to use period products during their periods. They let the blood flow on their panties. This is not done for protest. This is their lifestyle. This is what they do in their regular lives. This is something I did not know was a thing, until recently.

I was mindlessly scrolling on TikTok one day, when a video caught my attention. It was a video of a white girl talking about free bleeding. She basically said she does not use menstrual products on her period. She just lets the blood flow on her underwear.

Free bleeding was a normal thing back in the days where period products were not available. Back in the days, when women were on their periods, they free bled on a towel or a thick piece of clothing to absorb the blood. They did not leave their houses until they were done with their periods. Fast forward to the 21st century, some women decide to free bleed even in situations, where menstrual products are available to them.

Some women have said free bleeding makes them cramp less. Some study have shown that wearing of tampons makes a woman’s cramps worse, and pads may make a woman feel uncomfortable and bulky. Some pads are even known, to cause irritations and infections and women, generally want to avoid that and just free bleed. Some women have associated free bleeding with spirituality. They said it has made them connect with their inner being more, and they feel free with no burden or stress. Some women have claimed free bleeding makes their menstrual cycle shorter, compared to when they use menstrual products.

As harmless as free bleeding may feel, it has health implications. According to a female gynecologist, medically, free bleeding is not the best way to handle menstruations. This is because, when you free bleed, you tend to stain public chairs with your blood and any blood left behind on public spaces has to be treated as potentially infectious. Period bloods can carry bloodborne viruses like HIV, Hepatitis C, or Hepatitis B, which can survive outside the body for days or even weeks. I don’t think it is worth it to put people’s lives at risk.

Women are entitled to how they want to handle their periods and whatnot. However, I do not think free bleeding is something I would ever try. This is because free bleeding involves a lot of laundry. I cannot imagine myself intentionally letting my clothes or bedsheets get soaked in blood. Below, are images that best describes my mood when I wake up soaked in period blood. It is not always the best sight to behold. It stresses me out.

Me when I wake up to stained panties and bed sheets
Me on my period

Dear reader, what is your take on Free Bleeding? Please, share your thoughts, in the comment box, down below.

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PS: I do not own the rights to the images used above.

SERIES: There was Love, & Then, Breakfast (2)

“A broken heart is the worst. It’s like having broken ribs. Nobody can see it, but the pain is unbearable anytime you breathe


This is a continuation of the SERIES: There was Love & Then, Breakfast.

According to an anonymous Quora user, breakups are tougher for men than women. Men take longer than women to get over a heartbreak and struggle even more to move on with their lives. I agree with this user because every day, we see how men become soo emotional when they are heartbroken. Whoever said women are more emotional than men, is a big liar because, women handle breakups better than men. However, that topic is a discussion for another day.

Now, our focus is on a guy’s experience with love that did not have a fairytale ending. This story shows that “scum” has no gender. Women are also scum.


Have you ever been so much in love, that you thought you would marry this person?

Yes, I have.

How did you meet this person?

Well, we met online (Facebook) during the pandemic in 2020. I was friends with her best friend on facebook. Her bestfriend was always posting her on her facebook status, and she caught my eye. When I saw her in the “People You May Know” category on facebook, I did not think twice. I sent her a friend request. She accepted my friend request and the rest is history.

We started talking, we got to know each other a bit and soon, we moved the conversation to WhatsApp. She told me she had a boyfriend and whatnot. Fast forward to November, she told me her relationship with her boyfriend was over and there I was, offering her comfort.

Not long after, we were liking each other, and started referring to each other with pet names. One time in December, out of the blues, she told me to promise to never leave her blah blah blah. Then I knew things were more serious than I thought. This was no problem for me or so I thought, because I really liked her and my mother raised me right to treat a woman well.

I was too focused on her and wanted to prove that to her, so I cut off the other women in my life (the ones, I knew that had feelings for me and the ones that i had feelings for) I didn’t tell her about this, because I didn’t want her to feel insecure in the relationship or feel like she was in a competition with other women.

Can you share the lovey dovey moments of this relationship?

I officially asked her to be my girlfriend, on the first of January. I wanted us to have a date to celebrate our anniversary. I wasn’t really talking to my female friends anymore. I made her the center of everything (poor choice, yes I know that now. Please do not judge me.) We went out often and anytime I was going to see her, I always carried a little present for her. I was literally, not talking to any other woman except her. My friends complained that I was too carried away with my relationship with her and that I was unavailable to the outside world. I just wanted to please her and make life easy for her. Occasionally, I bought her food, because I did not want to burden her with the stress of cooking. I bought her stuff that she liked and wanted, including the ones she asked me not to bother about. Anytime she ran out of provisions, I restocked for her. I was basically always supportive of her in everything and she also, was supportive (or so I thought.)

WOW, or so you thought? What went wrong?

One time, we were supposed to go on a date and she cancelled on me. I found out that she went out that same day, with another guy. She called him “daddy”. Then, she lied to me, that she was no longer in contact with her ex boyfriend, when in actual fact, she was still talking to him and even visiting him in his house. She had the audacity to tell me to my face, that she could not stop talking to her ex, because of me. It did not end there. This babe started flirting around with various guys and gaslighted me for confronting her about it. She said she did not know it was wrong and I foolishly believed her.

Fast forward to her birthday, I went to her house to spend the day with her. In my presence, she was flirting with some other guy on the phone. When I saw the texts, I was pissed. She cried some crocodile tears, and apologized to me. That was her go-to drama whenever she messed up. Another time, we were together and this random guy came and was touching her in a type of way that suggested they were more than friends. He even called her his wife in my presence (omo! the audacityyyyy.) This babe did not see anything wrong with that, she was just laughing and playing with him. Soon, she stopped caring about my feelings. She was too busy flirting with other guys on her phone and could hardly speak to me. She either replied late or totally ignored my text messages. She wasn’t even willing to see me.

Hmm, who ended this toxic relationship?

She did. The breakfast she served me was HOT. One day, I complained about her behavior and she just told me, she was tired of me and had been waiting for the chance to end things with me. And that was the end of that relationship. It was one of the hardest phase in my life. Next month makes it a year since the relationship ended, and I am still trying to recover and heal from the manipulation and trauma that relationship caused me. It hurt me badly. Currently, I am 20 percent healed. I still feel the pain. Tears are almost flowing down my cheek, as I remember the burnt of the relationship.

Do you still believe in love? Would you give love another try?

No, I am done. Goodluck to those that want to try.


PS: Dear reader, Please share your thoughts on Israel’s experience in the comment box, down below.

SERIES: There was Love, & Then, Breakfast (1)

“E don cast, last last, na everybody go chop breakfast. Shayooooo”

Damini Ogulu

Flesh and Blood did not reveal that information to Damini. It was revealed to him by the god of “breakfast”. Who do you guys think the god of breakfast is? Well, I wish I knew who, but my gut tells me it’s a Yoruba man. My guts never lie, so feel free to quote me anywhere.

Breakfast is a slang for heartbreak. Breakfast is never served nice. It always involves one party acting in a manner, that hurts the other person. Just like death, Breakfast is inevitable. Every human being, born of a woman experiences, or would experience breakfast at least, once in their lifetime. Some others get very bad breakfast while the lucky ones get just a bite of breakfast. My point is, nobody can escape it.

I put out a google form on my social media for people to share their love and breakfast stories and some people were nice enough to share their experiences with love, that eventually led to breakfast. My words are in bold text while their words are in default text.

NOTE: This first story is not really a breakfast experience. It is a case of abuse, and cheating. I included it because she felt the need to share, and her story is important. Besides, she was the first response, so I am not going to kick it out.


Have you ever been so much in love, that you thought you would marry this person?


Do you mind sharing the “aww” moments of the relationship? I mean, how did you guys meet? Tell us the sweet moments you had in that relationship.

I was basically groomed by this man, so I am not letting myself see the “aww” moment. I don’t want to remember it. I want all details of him erased from my memory. But short story, I liked girls, but I was scared and maybe had cultivated a bit of homophobia myself(talk about self hate lol). He was the only guy, that was so nice to me and I felt he could “cure” me(as if being homosexual is a disease). He was nice and said nice stuff (he had the sweetest tongue). I felt no other man would see me, and love me the way he did. So I stayed with him. I felt indebted to him I guess. We had some nice moments though. We had a good friendship, before we got into a serious relationship.

What was the breaking point for you in that relationship?

He was always gaslighting me. I hurt myself alot more, and was always apologizing. He cheated too, and I had panic attacks all the time, which he invalidated.

Who ended the relationship?

I did. I had had enough. I had to choose myself. I was in an unhealthy cycle of doing everything for him, and with him. I didn’t know myself, or what I liked so I broke up. Later I found out about the cheating, the signs had been there.

I am glad you did. You deserve so much better. Good riddance to bad rubbish

Final question, Do you still believe in love?

Yesss, I do. I hope to find the right person

You definitely will. Just be yourself and live your truth.


PS: Dear reader, Please share your thoughts on Eniola’s experience in the comment box, down below.

POV: Middle-class edition (Part 1)

“We are not rich, neither are we poor. We are just there”

FPD Obata

The middle class, also known as, bourgeoisie, is a social stratum that is not clearly defined but is positioned between the lower and upper class. In simple terms;

  • UPPER CLASS – They have alot of money. They can afford luxurious stuff without breaking the bank.
  • MIDDLE CLASS – They have a fair amount of money. They can afford luxurious stuff on some occasions if they are ready to deny themselves of other privileges. These are the ones that would deny themselves vacations because they want to build a house or buy a new car.
  • LOWER CLASS – They have little money. They can afford the basic stuff after they have broken the bank. In some cases, they don’t even have the bank to break. They cannot afford luxurious stuff.

The middle class consists of professional people like, accountants, lawyers, teachers, doctors…and so on. The middle class has sub classes. There is middle class and there is middle class. I am not sure of the category of middle class we were in, but we were members of the middle class. (This is giving, 4.49 versus 3.50 cgpa, we are sha in the same 2.1)


As a little girl, I had the impression that I was born with a silver spoon. My parents got me whatever I wanted. I had so many toys, books, and a visafone phone! I mean, I had my first phone at age six and no one in my class did, so of course, I felt fly. That alone was enough for me to see my father as a very rich man. It was not long before reality dawned, at this time, some of my mundane requests were being denied. I started reading the room and the picture became clear to me. I was born into a middle class family.

I cannot really remember what the conversation was about, but out of the blues, I sighed and blurted out, “I thank God because we are neither rich nor poor, we are just in the middle.” My parents were too stunned to speak. They just burst into laughter and laughed so hard. They still tease me with that till this day.


Remember I said I was born into a middle class family? Yeah… my dad kind of upgraded from middle class to upper middle class (pre rich maybe). I was nine years old when we left the house I was born in. I could tell things were different. We moved to a better house, had a nice car, I was enrolled into a better school. The upgrade was fantastic!

My own life problems were just starting and I did not know I was in for a RUDE SHOCK. My beloved father put me in a school full of rich kids. Even the school fees was like eight times more than my former school fees. (I wish I was exaggerating) The first day I stepped into that school to write the entrance exam, I could tell the vibe was not something I was used to. The school building sent a message. The classrooms were well decorated. The playground was well equipped and there was a tuck shop that sold foreign snacks. Now that I look back and visualize the school building in my head, the building was not that fantastic but it was to me at the time because, I was coming from a school that was partially demolished (courtesy of Fashola’s administration)

On the first day of school, I excitedly wore my pinafore uniform, pinned my bow tie and wore a pair of my school customized socks. Assembly was beautiful. We sang praise and worship and hymns. We sang the school anthem and school pledge. I was so excited to fully settle down and get used to my new environment.

My first friend in that school was the proprietress’s daughter. Princess was a shy and quiet kid. After the close of school that day, she asked me to come and meet her mother. I followed her downstairs to an office where there was a sign that read, “proprietress’s office”. I looked at her in disbelief. She was just smiling sheepishly lol. In my head, I am like, how is she this humbleeee. Can never be me! Wahala for who offend me for class. I’d just go, “do you know who my mother is? do you know I can ask my mother to expel you from this school”

My French learning journey began in that school. We had diction classes (I wish I was serious with it). We were mandated to use fork and knife to eat. I was not used to this lifestyle, so I would hide and use only my spoon to eat (lmao, who did I think I was deceiving?) MYSELF! I was deceiving myself. I wish I took it seriously. Music was one subject that they took seriously in that school and guess what, I did not take it seriously. In our music class, we were all asked to buy our preferred musical instrument. I remember putting so much pressure on my father to get me a guitar. I was not freaked about learning how to use it. I just wanted it because, I did not want to lose the free twenty marks that was awarded for just having a musical instrument.


PS: Dear supportive reader, do you like the idea of the memes in my blog posts? Please comment down below what you think of it.