I’m cracking my fingers in all eagerness to start typing. Lol. Okay, as many of you know, I’m from Nigeria. When it comes to disrespecting parents, I can’t divorce it from my Nigerian heritage. Sit back and relax while I take you on this journey.
Continue reading “Day 18”
Growing up in a quiet neighborhood, one of my best moments was riding my bicycle around the serene streets. I and my friends often raced each other, doing so with hearty laughs and childish gusto. Riding was freedom for me, I had no care in the world, I’d just paddle on and on, round and round till mom called me home. Continue reading “DTM: Of Bicycles and Adulting”