September 2023, Lagos

I met a tall, dark-skinned man recently whose seductive eyes recounted the story of Samson and Delilah. More like a male version of Jezebel. One look at him, and I decided to make him the object of my affections, the subject of my attention, the focus of my desires, the epic center of my existence, the core of my being. I could go on and on, but you get the point abi. Let’s call this comely man Kamil.

November 2012, Port Harcourt

I experienced my first heartbreak. We had just returned from writing our final Senior WAEC examinations when Ufere, my then-best friend, nudged me to speak with Mark.

"You know we probably won’t see each other again, right? Tell him how you feel about him,” she said before sashaying off. Needless to say, I took advice from a girl with four piercings and a tattoo in secondary school.

One hour later, I walked up to Mark and discovered my best friend had been seeing him all along. My crush crushed my heart. Or was it my best friend?

My family moved out of Port Harcourt. My mom bought me an ash journal and a Schneider pen. I discovered writing.

Writing saved my young heart.

January 2021, Uyo

I stumbled into depression. I tried almost tried therapy, but the cost of having a random stranger ask me questions about my childhood trauma and tucked away emotions for $150 per session gave me more anxiety than depression itself. After 2 years of not pouring my emotions into leather journals of brown, blue, and ash colors, I picked up a black journal. I started writing again.

Writing saved my mental health.

January 2024, Lagos

Kamil and I have gone on several dates, of which one stands out as my favorite memory. That Tuesday morning, we had both decided to call in sick at work and let out our inhibitions. We met up at Casper & Gambini's for an early brunch. I don’t remember what we ate or how long we spent there. My mind captured his strong shepherdic arms draped across my shoulders in a silent declaration of “This is my woman". I remember him looking me in the eye and saying, "Fac si facis", before letting his tongue taste the remainder of the freshly toasted bread in my mouth.

Ok, I lied. I remember what we ate. I had ordered a full English breakfast consisting of crispy bacon and frankfurter with roasted tomato and mushroom, fried eggs, a freshly toasted cereal loaf, and baked beans on the side, while he settled for pancakes and chocolate sauce with freshly squeezed carrot-ginger juice.

I remember the chocolate sauce because I stole a taste off him.

Kamil, ma pa mi na 🥺

You see, my imagination runs wild, and my mind is filled with fantasies of things that may or may not be. Kamil may not exist in my life yet, but this newsletter is a solid entry into the world of my fantasies. Of course, there will be a perfect blend of reality, messy situationships, and life through the lens of Kathryn.

So, if you are into gbeborun, grab some cookies, share this newsletter, and let’s explore this world together.

Because writing will save us from boredom.