When my future was planned in the beginning, post-thirty flat tummy no follow. In this matter, I submit to fate.


I had only one resolution this year: ride an escalator by myself. At the time of writing this, I haven’t done it. The escalator represents one of my biggest fears – falling. It is irrational because I have never had an incident on one. I can trace the source of most of my phobias but this one beats me.

I used to think my phobias were cute. I talked about them like they were quirks, not realising they were symptoms of a deeper problem. Having to take a two-month leave of absence to care for your mental health kind of puts things into perspective and gives you a deeper appreciation of the phrase “good health of mind and of body”. One thing I tried to do was talk openly about having a breakdown and about getting help. Of course only with people I trust or believed would understand. I was not going to hide away and pretend all was well.

I have friends who said the wrong things. I have more friends who said all the right things or nothing at all. They were just there.


I started something I thought was going to be my life’s work but had to leave it. It hurts but na so life be.

I chose to love the wrong person. I also chose to love the right person at the wrong time. The former left me with the first heartbreak of my life (is this you people’s heartbreak?) and a lesson (do not try to fix anybody under romantic circumstances + when a person says they’re not good enough for you, they aren’t). The latter heartbreak left me grateful that I am still soft inside like agege bread. It also gave me hope that there is someone somewhere who matches my energy 10/10. I just need to find them. Not on Nigerian Tinder though. Too many war stories.

I made more money than I have ever made before this year. I have to return a substantial part of my earnings because I didn’t fulfil my obligations to two people. It’s a debt that will follow me into 2019. There is no painting it. I messed up big time. I have put a system in place to ensure this doesn’t happen again.


Girls’ trip to Grand Popo in Benin Republic with three amazing women. C’est le moment.

Accra with some of my favourite people in the world.

Accra again by myself to recuperate + attend a book festival.

The aka-gum part of me has done all the calculations and occasionally tells me things like, “You for use that money buy new fridge and big gen and still get change to buy AC,” but I don’t think I would have survived this year without taking small breaks from Nigeria.

. . .

My Christian upbringing demands that I confess my very minimal voluntary attendance of church this year. Do I love God? Yes. Do I want to spend more time in fellowship with God and fellow believers? Yes. Do I want to go to an organised church? Not really. Therein lies my quandary.

  • Selfish people will be selfish.
  • There’s nothing quite like your own bed.
  • Your friends are your business. Mind them.
  • Admitting to loneliness will not kill you.
  • RuPaul has the snatchest waist.

There’s a number of loose ends I’m leaving well alone because in trying to tidy them up, I could unravel everything.

In the words of the great hashtag of my beloved Ayo, #ThisLifeNaOnce2018.


Leaps and bounds this year, Jite, leaps and bounds. Wait for me, I’m coming to Lagos so you can moonwalk on escalator. Or we can try it in Warri before new year. Much love and thank you for sharing. 

Enajite Efemuaye

Enajite is an editor, freelance writer and former graphic artist. She gets paid to read: a fact that does not cease to amaze her. She tweets about dodo and other randomness from @jyte12 and will edit your work for a reasonable fee.(enajite.efemuaye@gmail.com).


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