Ajoke,
Why do you take such joy in turning down every one of my advances?
I have journeyed into the wild, into the deepest of forgotten forests, and returned with the brightest of flowers. Petals that bloom once in a hundred blood moons—yet you cast them into the bin like weeds.
I have sat alone in a candlelit room, and with bleeding ink, composed letters that would make the stone-hearted maidens of the village swoon. Yet you burn them at the tip of the same candle before they ever meet your eyes.
I have brewed my own wine with my hands, sweet elderflow pressed under the weight of my desire. Yet you pour it into the earth as though it were poison.
What more does your heart want, Ajoke? Tell me.
Or is your heart a fortress without a key?
Why do I feel so empty?
What does pleasure bring me—
and what does it take away?
Why does the dark threaten me?
Why does it lay a trap,
and why do I fall?
Should I not do what brings me joy—
and not feel so burdened?
Why do I feel so empty?
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I am not a nonchalant lover.
I want to hear all about your day—
the co-worker you almost had a scuffle with, the news that sparked excitement in you,
the moment you felt sad for no reason and almost cried. I want to hear it all.
I want to hold you, kiss your forehead when you're having a bad day. I want us to be inseparable,
wrapped in each other’s arms all day, finding comfort in our embrace.
I will remember your birthday.
The names of all the friends you've mentioned to me. Your favourite movies, your favourite foods.
Your likes. Your dislikes.
I won't keep you guessing about my love for you. I’ll remind you every day how deep my love runs—
how I want to spend the rest of my existence with you. I will plan random dates, surprise you with gifts out of nowhere.
I will let you know how dazzling you look when you dress beautifully. I will tell you that the flaws that make you insecure
are beautiful to me.
I will look out for you. Protect your image. Guard your safety. I will defend you in public—and correct you in private.
I am not a nonchalant lover.
Just note.
Loving something about a person does not equate to loving them.
It's a different thing to say.
1. What do you love about me?
2. Why do you love me?
The first question points to attributes in a person that you love. It doesn't mean you love them. You can dislike a person and still love a particular thing about them.
The second question points to a certain thing that evokes actual feelings of love. This is where conditional and unconditional love comes in.
If you love someone because of the financial security you get with them, the day it disappears is the day you disappear.
There are many people out there who are in love with people who have attributes that are far off from what would typically be on their spec list. And yet, none of it matters.
Now the whole point of this uproar is about "why you love your partner" not "what you love about your partner".
Some of you dont understand emotional intelligence
He said the truth
I wear sleeveless tops without my husband complaining but the day I met his dad, he said I should wear jacket ontop of jumpsuit which I did
Till date all my arms are covered when he’s around but my husband doesn’t mind
Everything isnt equal right or oppression. Will he wear singlet and piercing to see your parents?
When you marry her son,she won’t come to your house to remove it. Don’t just wear it to where she is
Amaka,
How can you ask that we just remain friends?
Do you not remember the nights we peeled open our souls,
curled in sweat-drenched sheets,
making love while the world still slept?
Have you forgotten the moments
we gazed into each other's eyes for what felt like days,
only to melt into kisses—
slow, honey-sweet, and endless?
Was it not just a moonlight ago
you tore down the last veil of your guarded heart,
and whispered how life would be meaningless
without us —
as lovers?
So how can you now discard with every piece of my soul,
each secret I laid freely before your feet?
You must understand, Amaka —
my heart knows no other place, than with you.
It knows no other logic.
No other rythm.
No other truth.
This is not a choice I can accept. My love, I do not agree with you.
In science, if something works, it should work reliably—consistently across many people, not just one or two.
It should be testable. You should be able to try it again and get similar results.
Prayer doesn't pass that test. At least, not when it comes to external, observable outcomes.
But maybe that's the problem.
We’re starting with the wrong assumption:
That prayer is scientific or even trying to play by those rules.
@jon_d_doe I am a proud wife of a man who plucks and peel fruits, blend fruits(smoothies), makes juice, yogurts of all sort, makes granular, parfait, tigernuts, luxury kunu😊 and everything healthy and natural.
Location: Lagos/Tradefair
Earning legit is life.
God bless you Agba
From my eyes, a waterfall
that a hundred tissue cannot dry
A thousand pages in sight,
but a number too small to tell my story
I fracture the air with a scream,
But the silence swallows it whole
My hands reach out,
But the space is too wide
The walls listen but do not speak back
They hear my cries but offer no comfort
Even the dark grows tired of me,
And the familiar ghosts tether to my chest.
The Yoruba people say, Ẹwà rẹ dà bí adùn tí kò le tan—your beauty is like a sweetness that never fades And truly, I find myself unable to argue. From the very moment our gazes clashed from a distance, I have stood in awe and wondered how one person could be so perfectly sculpted—A face with a jawline curved like a soft whisper, and cheekbone that carries the quiet authority of royalty.
Adunni, o má rẹwà gan.
Ojú rẹ sàn bí omi àwon òkun. But it's not just your beauty that holds my heart captive like the philistines bound Samson to the strongholds of the temple, it is the grace in your silence as you looked at me, not just at my face but into me, stripping me bare in a tender way, as though you were reading a language only the gods understood.
I long to hold you in my arms, Adunni but I know...today is not that day. Within me, a flame of hope is kept alive, burning gently, that our paths will one day cross again.
And maybe then, I will finally summon from the very depths of me, the courage to walk up to you and say:
"Hi Adunni,
my life has always had meaning but with you...
it begins to make sense"
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I'm currently building a product (@mycribbb) for Nigerians that book shortlets. The product aims to make booking a shortlet easier and more reliable.
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