The Stories I Tell...

   4 A.C  This life no just balance o .    Since Bayo met Cynthia, he has been giving me extra work. Anytime she's nearby, I have to beat faster. Sure, I know Bayo is still a young man and that means I am a young heart. But that doesn't mean I should start doing extra work because of another human being. It's not as if Bayo is dreading being sacked anytime his boss asks him to his office. Neither is he playing football. I bet Cynthia's heart is not doing any extra work on Bayo's account.    A girl that looks the way the Eyes have described her surely wouldn't be falling head over heels for Bayo. Eyes said Cynthia has hips that didn't lie, skin the colour of roasted groundnuts, and teeth that had probably been in a million toothpaste ads. She's out of his league. She probably only talks to guys that have their own cars and Bitcoin.  P.S: I'll be using A.C meaning After Cynthia to denote the timeline. 37 A.C   I'm too young to be diagnosed with...

  I don't talk to strangers. What I mean is, I don't have unnecessary conversations with service people. If I have an appointment with a doctor, I don't need his bedside manner. I don't need enquiries about my welfare from the market woman at the stall where I always buy my semo or idle chit chat with my barber as he cuts my hair. Even on a bus, I don't join in on the familiar chorus of how bad this country is getting. I don't think I'm better than people. I'm just not good at verbal communication, so I write instead. I'm better at it. I eavesdrop on the conversations of people around me and reinvent them as fiction. That's how I became an international best-selling author.  A year has passed since I last published a novel. That's why I decided to go out to find fresh ideas. Public transportation is usually ripe with stories to transform into captivating tales.  As I waited on a street in my city, I spotted a keke. It was empty except for the...