voguememoirs: I was out in public.. in a McDonald's when I was reading your poem "flames" and as I approached the ending I let out a loud gasp and all the workers turned to look at me. lol That was a great poem. It was sad, but beautiful. Ah-mazing! 💕


LOOOOOVE!!! That reaction, THAT reaction makes that piece even more painfully human and that is what makes my heart feel brighter. Ifechukwude, thank you for sharing this. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.


Zebra wave • #vscocam #la

some people
are what you try
to write away
at three am.

they are what
the fabrics of your
weaves wickedly for you.


Maki Oh Fall 2014

Of all the names to turn up on the short list for the brand-new LVMH Prize, Maki Oh is perhaps the most surprising. Designer Maki Osakwe’s presence on the list is richly deserved, but as a designer based in Lagos, she remains outside the range of fashion industry groupthink. That makes her something other than a usual suspect for a Paris-based fashion competition, but it also helps account for the utter distinctiveness of her work. Osakwe always premises her collections on a story, and this one, she explained, came from her imagining a woman at her mirror, reciting the song lyrics, “Tell me I’m the only one, even if you choke.”

Further, Osakwe really upped her textile game this season, developing a traditional Nigerian aso-oke material with Lurex thread; pulling luxe gobs of fringe out of selvedge; and translating prints, such as her Yoruba translation of those song lyrics, into hand-appliquéd lettering. There’s a certain naïveté to Osakwe’s work and you sense the hand of the artisan, but the intelligence and aesthetic sophistication guiding her process is so keen, the pieces never come off as artsy-craftsy. Well done. - By Maya Singer

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Dedicated to the Cultural Preservation of the African Aesthetic

Even if I knew that tomorrow the world would go to pieces, I would still plant my apple tree.
Martin Luther (via observando)
Ignoring your passion is slow suicide. Never ignore what your heart pumps for. Mold your career around your lifestyle not your lifestyle around your career.
Unknown (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)



happy mothers day!

Omg this is so cute 😍

I miss this 😩


she calls you on the telephone
screaming for help
begging you to come visit her.

you sit,
she tells you how she loves him
you listen,
as she carries herself to memories
she has a far away look
her skin begins to glow
she says,
‘men take take and take’
you nod in agreement

you hold her hand
as she searches your eyes
for an answer you cannot give

she is smiling as you bring her soup
she has on her lazy smile
her half moon gaze
men have always
loved her
for her sugar smile
consuming her high.

you ask her if it hurts
she does not reply
she says,
‘he loved how my skin felt against his’
she has a faraway look
gathering her tears
for another lonely night
you asked her again
she does not reply
she says with pain stretching her voice,
‘i already had baby names’
and you hear the walls sigh.

Ijeoma Umebinyuo (via theijeoma)


Femi is like
Akure in the morning;
and calm.

he mixes Yoruba
with his english,
smiles at me
as i watch him undress
his skin made of
generations of Kings.

For a region that brings in billions of dollars a year for the Nigerian government, for a region that generates so much energy for not only the nation but parts of the world; there should not be a single family without electricity. So, when i write that some Nigerian politicians need to be slapped, i mean it with every vein in my body.
Ijeoma UmebinyuoNiger-Delta (via theijeoma)

I honestly still do no understand this whole NEPA business, but let me be quiet.

your uncle
laughs at people
who think
the British
left Nigeria
after her independence.
Ijeoma Umebinyuo (via theijeoma)

Iya Bisi


In Lagos, one of your next door neighbors, the second wife of Chief has a right to know your business. Chief Olabode, the rich man with a big potbelly. His potbelly, his sign of wealth. No, you will not disrespect her. Yes, you will nod in agreement or answer her questions. She has important…

He said my writing does not show him Africa. Keep in mind this American man has never visited any country in Africa. He said i was writing about Africans driving and listening to Sade in air-conditioned cars. He just couldn’t identify with such. He said it like i should apologize for ever portraying my people as some modern day normal Africans. It is as though if Africans are not killing each other or dying of a disease; then our stories are not valid. As a Nigerian, i have never witnessed war and i know what listening to Sade in an air-conditioned car while in crazy Lagos traffic feels like, yet an American who has never stepped foot in my continent tried explaining my country to me. He said, “i am sorry, this is just not believable….” and then as i tried to hold my anger, i understood the ‘burden’ of writing an African story.

The anger most African writers feel when others seem to know so damn much about our own motherland. The terrible idea that Africans are a certain way is disheartening. I remember how my friend in Lagos laughed as i told her about the American. She laughed loud at his foolishness and cursed him in Yoruba. You cannot tell me what an African city looks like, you cannot tell me what a Nigerian city looks like. You cannot tell me how to write about Africa only if it shows her people as helpless, only if it feeds into your stereotype. How can a foreigner tell us about our own land? They want to shake their head, read only about struggles and discuss it in their book clubs. The audacity of a foreigner to tell me how to write about my people.

Ijeoma Umebinyuo (via theijeoma)

Woo! I got mad reading this.