Genuinely, my plan for today was to buy junk, wear comfortable clothes and wallow in the existential crises that accompany birthdays while dwelling on the futility of existence. Now I’m writing this not because I particularly want to, but because I need an outlet for the anxiety I currently feel.

I don’t know if there’s anything like good anxiety but if there is, I think that’s how I feel right now. It’s weird how everybody is being so nice, how my phone is blowing up and how there is a very embarrassing video of my reaction to a surprise cake…


HinyHumoren — Iniobong Umoren
Ini Umoren

I wasn’t prepared to see the news of Iniobong Umoren’s death on Sunday morning. But then, nobody is ever prepared for that sort of thing. I told the friend I was talking to when I saw it that I had been so confident that she’d be found. I mean, the police had been involved from the beginning, members of the public had been involved from the beginning…of course, she had to be found, and found alive.

She wasn’t. Iniobong was killed…raped and killed.


The thoughts leading to this article were spurred by a polo shirt, memories of music, the deceitful thrills of talking stages and the utter uselessness of romantic relationships with a sprinkle of Yoruba demonism here and there. I will not go into details on these.

So, NBC banned Ric Hassani’s “Thunder Fire You” song. I’m sure the song is great, but this is not an article analysing the song. I’m not much of a music fan — the last time I consciously updated my playlist was 2016. These days, I hardly ever seek out new music. …

Tobi Adebanjo

Omo.

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