Welcome to Okafor Uzoamaka's blog.

"It's over Ibukun, I'm sorry I can't do this anymore. I cannot continue this."  "What is over?" "This..." You were cut short by your thoughts. You wanted to say 'relationship', but he never asked you out. So you swallow it before it comes out. But you feel your actions have qualified you to be his girlfriend, so on a second thought, you spit it out. "I cannot continue this relationship." You say. He chuckles, first. Then laughs out loud. "I'm sorry Favour, but what relationship?" He asks. "This thing we've been doing, what is it called if not a relationship?" "Yes it is a relationship-friendship. Except you were thinking of something else. Then you'll have to tell me." For the first time since you started self-dating (Yes that's what you've been doing ) you question your senses and realize you have not been using them at all. You think you have a case, however. S...

It's been months since you last called. 5? 6? 7? Definitely 7 months. Usually I would have called after about 2 weeks or more of not hearing from you, then listen to you whine about how life is not treating you well as if I wasn't alive too. But no. Not anymore. I have learnt to move on. How not to think of those nights we made love and talked about how we'll make babies later in future. I have stopped re-reading old texts which once had life and fragrance. They had these no more. They were dead now and stank. I finally found courage to delete them as well as your pictures. Deleting your pictures were not at all hard. You weren't a beauty to behold, contrary to what I used to think (love really blinds). I exhaled deeply as I deleted your number from my phone.  "This is indeed freedom", I said to myself. Then I remembered my diary. My pretty old dairy. Though it contained memories I would love to keep, I have to burn it. So I put my candle to use and as ...

Nota bene, I do not intend for this to be an autobiography of my stay in school, but it will unavoidably be so. This write-up encapsulates my experience as a student in the University of Nigeria, Nsukka; both the good and bad experiences with some advice to the younger ones on how to make it through the den. I am in no way imposing my advice on anyone or declaring it the only solution to the problems I faced, remember different strokes for different folks. I became a lioness in 2013. I know one may expect me to say it was the happiest day of my life, but no. Don’t get me wrong, I was very happy but at the same time confused. I was going to face a life totally different from what I have known and experienced all my life. So I can say I was scared as well. To make matters worse, I did not know anybody at all in this school. So the true meaning of a den was to be experienced by me. My first few weeks in school were strength draining, having to run around from Ekpo Ref to the former S...