My random thoughts.

Another Cliché Post? Memories of Margaret- Mary “Zara Gretti” Joseph

Abit Cliché


Everyone is writing a tribute, Everyone has something to say.

And alot of people dont get it, one gossip website/blog even said with sarcasm.that “its become cool to be a zara friend”

Yea, they cant get it, its simply because you carried almost everyone along.

You desperately needed to be helped so yea you carried us all along, everyone, anyone.

I count myself to have been lucky enough to have known you and been there in the little way I could.

I have tried so hard not to write this.

At the tribute yesterday Kraft asked if I will speak

I said I had too much to say.

There were memories.

so yea I have decided to write.

I met you through my sis, she says both of you would tell each other you were the most beautiful and refuse to accept that you were finer than the other. Lol

I was in JSS1 I think you left Badore a few weeks after I got into Badore. Somehow yourself and my sis would keep in touch.

FastForward 2000-and-something sis told me you had started a music career you wanted to come back to Naija, we discussed labels and all. But I guess you spoke with other people and you got it sorted. I didnt hear from you again until you came, we’ll jam randomly and say hi’s chit chat thats all it was.

Fast Forward MS started.

I was ignorant I heard bout your illness but didnt know what to do until you sent my sis a voice note, she played me the voicenote and I was scared!!! You told her bout MS and what you were going through. It dawned on us how bad it was.

I asked for your pin , we will talk regularly, we discussed the GTB acc, your Fidelity acc, we agreed on the GTB, but I couldnt open the account in your absence, so you said you’ll be home soon.

Then one day one twitter you asked for my number,you were coming to town and we agreed to meet up. I came to see you at Liz’s


As we drove by GTB HQ yesterday the memories were fresh.

How we had to beg the security guys to carry you up the stairs cos you couldnt climb the stairs.

How you eventually climbed holding the railings and smiling.

Admiralty Way

As I drive past Admiralty way I remember the passport photographs you took, how we had to get you up and down the stairs. I still have a copy of the passport photo, i remember giving you my tiny earrings to take the passport photo.

Boli and Fish?

Lol I remember offering to buy you boli and fish.

Your excitement and innocense as we bought the boli and fish.

Yea that memory i hold.

Kraft says you still asked for Boli and fish recently.

Ice Cream Factory.

The bowel movement incident

How you were crying and saying you wished I didnt have to see you in that state.

and I was upset that you saw it as a big deal. It was nothing.

Voice Notes.

The shakey voicenotes cos you couldnt type or you were to tired to type.

You’ll send a voicenote I’ll type my reply.

Stem Cell/MS Research.

Mailing the Stem cell clinic, and mailing you the reply.

Your reply was “sounds good mama but I need to get back to yankee right”

Then we spoke about starting a campaign.

We had a budget from the Stem Cell Hospital. Flyer created. We tried to share it facebook, instagram,bbm but that was all.

I was helpless, I didnt know what else to do. I could have tried more. For that I take some blame.

Fast Forward 2014.

You were coming to Lagos and you called my sis Tifa, you desperately needed a place to stay, you called Liz too, I am sure you had called a couple of others too.

But its just normal that alot of people suggested that staying with Family would be better.

I didnt even know when you came in, then you buzzed me two weeks ago, you werent feeling any better, I was helpless I had been a bit ill too, I didnt know what to say. I asked you plenty questions, who could I call or ask?  Nobody.

The week you died, you buzzed me on bbm, you said hi and my reply was “I’m sorry” you asked why I was sorry, it was simply cause I felt guilty like I should be doing more.

As cliche as it sounds your status gingered me and I was going to try harder that week.

Maybe cause you had fought for so long, I kinda thought you’ll be able to fight for so long.

I guess MS was upset that you were strong through it all.

In all I am thankful for you, as a muslim all I know that I should do is PRAY for you, nothing else. Ask God to forgive you, and pray that heavens gates are opened for you.

And no I am not moody/upset/sad those of us left behind are left inspired and with a message. No amount of sadness/ regret can bring you back

Inna Lilahi Wa Inna Ilahi Rajiun


Open Letter to My Husband on Our First Year Anniversary!!!!



Its been 365days of an entirely new experience.

In the past year I have confirmed that I have a support system in my husband and that my husband is the only best friend I really need.

He’s been my best friend, brother, father, business partner, confidant, teacher,happiness machine,play mate

My dear @Abiodunkssm for loving me unconditionally, for loving my perfect imperfections, my skoin skoin,for reminding me every time that I am special, I am important and no ones opinion matters.

In the past year you have made it clear that unhappiness is not allowed and every time I try to swing into a mood, you effortlessly drag me out of it and tell me “we don’t do this here”

You make it clear that our marriage and lives should be rosy and happy for the most part of our union.

I, without regret say that the past year has been the best year of my years, your family has taken Me as Thiers, I’ve been treated like a princess.

The support all rounder has been massive.

I knew from the first day December 26 2010 that you will be a blessing to me, 2 years after we decided to make us official.

You make it easy,all of me loves all of you, my dear Husband Abiodun Ridwan Kassim @abiodunkssm today,everyday and FOREVER MORE

In Sha Allah.

#weddinganniversary #firstyearwedding #naijawedding #bellanaijaweddings #oneyearweddinganniversary #naijabride #nigerianwedding #nigerianweddings #muslimfamily Image#muslimah #islamiyah

20th of May, 20-something years ago…….

On May 20th Nineteen eighty something, a special child was born, seven days after she was named Zaynab. That special child is ME *fanning myself* *doing the beauty queen wave*

Its been a while since I wrote anything on my blog, writers block/busy/ chasing money plus I’m now a family woman *blushes* *azontos*

Zainab Ikaz Kassim

Me & My Mr K

A lot of happenings in the early part of the year have got me worried,distant,scared and more conscious. Lost some friends to death, got reminded that life has always been fickle.

Its been a very demanding, time consuming but eventful year and I’m thankful to God.

In the past year I’ve hurt & been hurt, I’ve taught & learnt, I’ve given & I’ve received, I’ve grown & I’ve helped grow, I’ve fed & been fed, I’ve encouraged & been encouraged, too much has happened give me a call to know more *rolls eyes*

The past year has been a great year, I’ve understood the meaning of Love,Friendship,Family and yes if you didn’t know “♫♪husby loves me and♫♪ he’s put a ring(two rings actually) on it♫♪” , Yep being married to the best husband in the world is one of the things that have made life better for me, having the best mum and siblings in the world and being lucky to have inlaws like mine are very few of the many reasons I know I’m a blessed and lucky “geh”

This year I gave myself goals in my head,and by the fifth month I’m proud to say with the help of God and Family I’m more than halfway through my goals.

To my husband, mum, siblings, inlaws, family, and friends, I appreciate the unending love, I know how difficult I can get, yet you all stick with me, you show me love and support, you listen when I want to talk, you hold my hands when I need to walk with someone, you scold me and still draw me closer.
I’m thankful to God for being blessed with you all around me.

To My Husband,Mum,Siblings,Mum-in-law,Dad-in-law,Sis-Inlaw,Bro-in-law. In the past year you all will never ever know how much you’ve impacted my life by something you’ve said,something you’ve tried to correct,something you’ve given (wide grin) and a whole lot, I appreciate the constant unending love, care and understanding and I pray Ma Sha Allah that the love and grace of Allah (SWT) will never depart from us all. Amin.

And to my sister-friends, the ones who never ever leave my side, the ones who’ll stand through it all, the ones who love me and treat me like their sister, you’ll never know how priceless your friendship is, you’ve become my sisters, your parents have become my parents your siblings have become my siblings. God bless you girls.

To Everyone who has been a part of the CASAP Family (volunteers,supporters,sponsors) you guys are amazing.

To Every client we at M.Ikaz&A have had, we appreciate you.

On this note I’ll say the year has been fantastic, God has been faithful, his “awesomeness” is awesome, he’s fantastic, he’s amazing, he’s a darling, he’s my father, the father of all fathers, if you don’t know him “o ti je igo” ( you are doomed)

I’ll enjoy the rest of the year Ma Sha Allah (by Gods grace) stay blessed thanks for reading.

“Smallie” a tribute to a friend by Bunmi Gang.

Just when you are settling with life’s issues, it hits u in a way u least expect.
2012 came with a lot of woes and just when I thought “hey it’s a new year” death reared its UGLY face… Too close to home for me.

In 1999/2000 there about, I had to go. print my assignment, and seized the opportunity to go with a friend to her house in 1004 estates in VI. So I found myself in a cyber cafe within the estate trying to sort out my mini-project. There I met this very nice, welcoming, charming somebody. I called him ‘smallie’ after that day, cos yes, he was small in a cute way.

His mum happened to own the cafe. After helping me sort out the important things which I was there for, we got friendly and got talking, and in the bid to exchange contacts, I said “oh I don’t have an e-mail address” (no GSMs then, or well, little me couldn’t afford one then). Right there he opened one for me… (I told you he was a very nice somebody)…
Anyways, I left that day, a happy person with a new friend.

PS: I was very young, so all I thought was a friend and not setting-p like u people will say these days…

We exchanged a few mails when I was home on hols. But the constant break in communication due to being in boarding house sort of affected the friendship.
Fast forward to when I finished from high school, I tried to reach my friend, but all e-mails to that address bounced. Did I forget the address? Did he stop using it? Almost 6yrs and there was no sign of my smallie.  😦

Now fast forward again to 06/07, I was chatting with a friend and somehow, d name Irawo was mentioned or I over-heard her talk to someone and mention the name. Whichever it was, I could not be bothered to keep the memory, because every sense in me told me that was my smallie and of course I asked, “which Irawo”. It was my smallie!!! I danced, laughed, smiled, name it. Yes, we got back in touch, and this time, thank God for GSMs… :p

Did I see him after then? NO! We just talked and exchanged SMSs. We were in touch for about 3yrs, then I met Ojia. A few years later, I found out she’s his sister. Small world…

Somehow, I ran into Irawo in 2011. I was super happy. Very pleasant surprise… My smallie had become  a doctor, and wasn’t much of a smallie anymore. We talked for a bit and parted, as I was there for a show and he had work to do. (Medical team) in case someone broke a leg or head. LOL

With Irawo, I didn’t ‘make an effort’ to keep a friend, he was always there… He was just a phone call away.

Come Monday, 7th Jan, 2013, Irawo was constantly on my mind.  Something that had never happened since I met him. I picked my phone to call him, but my wonderful girls won’t let me have a convo. One wanted to feed, the other wanted to take my phone as usual, so I locked d phone and said ‘later’. Later never came as I was always ‘too busy’ to check on a friend.

Friday 11th Jan, 2013, someone put up on a bb group, the story of a guy that was shot at Anthony, Lagos. And she said “I’ll put up the victim’s picture”. As I’m not much of an ‘amebo’, I forgot to check the picture. The next morning, I went to the group pictures, and I saw his picture labeled ‘the victim’, I almost passed out.

My Irawo! My smallie! He had become ‘the victim’. He was NO MORE. Some cruel human being had taken my Irawo from me! I could never make that phone call and get to talk to my Irawo again!

I cried uncontrollably. And I wondered just how his family felt if I felt this way.

I only saw him 2ce in the whole time I knew him, but he meant so much more to me than a lot of friends I have and see everyday. He was different. There was something about him that said ‘keep him’. He was a true friend!!!

I weep for a very dear one has been lost. I weep for a rare gem, a hero has fallen. I weep for Nigeria, d world, has lost a STAR!

In our hearts, you’ll forever be.

RIP Dr. Irawo Adamolekun!

QQSeries : 1

I’m launching the #QQSeries on my blog, where people get to send their random questions to me, I share the questions with others and publish the responses I get on my blog.

Over time I’ve asked such questions and I’ve gotten amazing and helpful responses which have been published on the blog.

Question of the week :
If you aren’t comfortable with your spouses relationship with another individual. Who do you discuss with? Your spouse/the individual?


Your spouse..except you have any form of relationship with that individual though – Tunrayo Poetry

I think u can also discuss with d individual if you are familiar with them. But if you dunno dem like dt it could be creepy – Nwando Onyeabo

Of course your spouse!except perhaps you know the individual as much and you and that individual can broach such a sensitive subject!but I ll speak to my spouse and know what’s going on pronto – Sage Hasson

Spouse. Otherwise, nothing gets fixed. Either way – Tosyn Bucknor

I discuss with my spouse and if he doesn’t take action ill have to either talk to the individual or let him/her know thru my action.cos as a woman I have six eyes.
– CEO Ice Cream & Grills

Your spouse is the person to talk to. Reason=the 3rd party does not owe you any duty of care, trust or loyalty. Those are the duties of your spouse- Bolanle Oduntan

Ill discuss with my spouse nd ill make sure I gve dem tink to make ammends bt if noting happens ill v to discuss it with the individual mysef with loads of warning!:) – Bunmi Momoh

My spouse of course,Bt if d girl no get sense I go join am o – Brendz

I wee shoot the guy.. No discussion:]x. – Peeshaun

Its better to discuss with your spouse cos chances are the individual might take that opportunity to disrespect you especially if they actually have hidden feelings for your spouse.Just discuss it in the lightest possible way so it doesn’t seem like you are trying to control your spouses’ life by choosing their friendships and all.These things require wisdom.
– Feyi Fab

It depends on d individual bt d best person I wld discuss it wit nomatter who d individual is, Is my Spouse cos she wld or rada she shld undastand me beta – Toplad

relationship with my spouses I will surely talk to my spouses explaining the reason. If my spouses refuses to address my worries and I think it might affect our relationship. I will be left with no choice that to take direct measure, approach the individual in a friendly manner if the individual don’t address my worries then its time to send in the mob. @ebutecastle

“why is my spouse always questioning my relationships with other people, and I never give her any stress over the people she speaks or spends time with” – Anonymous

The simplest and peaceful way is to discuss with my spouse. Its nt matured telling d individual cos it might escalate to something else – Shalewa Ajibade

A Breath of Fresh “Hair”

This Post was written by Abiodun Kassim

The life of a strand of hair lies in its roots, same thing for man, believe it or not. There are all kinds of hair, silky and smooth, stubborn, short, black, real, fake and the whole nine yards, for every type of hair, there is a type of man yet a man does not have to be what his hair is (I know you have heard India Arie say so). All these possibilities for alteration and differences make life quite interesting. You should hear my story.

I am your average bachelor who is comfortable but not quite where I am headed yet. I consider myself a strong ‘thousaneer’ if I could borrow the word. I studied fine art at great Ife, if asked, I endure this cruel world because of my love for art and paintings and I only went to school for the same reason.  Every now and then, I dabble into photography just to remind myself of how good I am with the paintbrush. A camera is a copycat; with my brush, I can tell the story of my subject. The flexibility of painting allows me to give my art its own identity, every stroke is a different scene while I paint and my eyes are the lenses……….Enough!!!… My story

I live in Ilupeju, alone in my flat. The only neighbors I have are my Indian landlord and his family. One day, his little daughter who was chasing a ball ran into one of my very few photography sessions, and we graduated into a photo shoot. She was a natural. What really struck me was her hair and the way she seemed to speak with it. Yes! I love hair, especially the long and silky type, and I particularly love it when it stems out of the scalp of its owner, every strand has a story to tell all the way to the roots… Irony is I keep a baldhead.

While I was editing the photos, I felt compelled to take the photos to the family; they deserved to see how beautiful their daughter was. I knocked on the door, and it wasn’t long before the door was opened. I was greeted first by a surge of incense smoke; then the mom. She was clearly surprised to see me.

 Very nice to me, she offered me drinks while we all sat and looked through the pictures. I could tell that latika was pleased with her pictures. She said she was going to show them to her dad when I printed them.  I was happy just seeing that smile; One of the very few times that my work from a camera gave me such joy.

  I never really had ties with the family, if not for rent and service charges; we will probably never have spoken. See how these pictures have brought us together, I am cooking dinner for  what was perceived as a rigid Indian family, we share cultural jokes and we are bonding. Rajiv; latika’s dad is in construction, incidentally; we have that in common.

When I said I was a strong thousaneer, I made my few thousands from sculptures. We always had a lot to talk about. Latika became my constant model. I began to love this family like mine. We became so close that I could complain about their incense and they’ll turn it off. Indians stop burning incense for me? We were one.

One day, we made jokes about my baldhead and Rajiv’s turban.  I asked why Indians wear turbans all the time, and he laughed and said and I quote; in his Indian accent “trust me, it is not to cover a hairless head” I wasn’t sure how he noticed since I wore a hat all the time, but I guess that was the giveaway, he never saw me without the hat. Either way he cracked me up and we laughed for a good minute, we took a break but continued right after I took off my hat.

In all of this laugher, latika just stared fervently at me; she did not find anything funny. Just then, she asked why I didn’t have hair.  And silence filled the room, Rajiv was holding his laughter, I think his wife was a little smarter as she tried to detour latika from the question, but I encouraged her to ask.

Rajiv was in shock when I said the reason, I saw his eyes redden and begin to tear up, his wife was about to join him, latika obviously confused dashed into one of the rooms in the apartment. I didn’t want any pity; I always wanted to avoid it. It is bad enough that my whole family thought cancer was a reason to dump me off in some hospital like I was doing time for a crime, then they will come visiting often, bearing gifts and wailing family members. It made me furious. Not to talk of the nurses, who continued the pity party after hours. They were the reason I decided to leave the hospital and live on my own. If I was going to die, I wanted to go down laughing and enjoying the beauty of life. Thank God for my brushes and my camera.

I don’t know what moved me to reveal it. I got comfortable I guess, I got up and left without saying good night. They understood, actually I hope they did because the next morning, I was gone. I always wanted to move to Ghana, I heard they had the best sculptors, it was time to put them to the test. I left without a proper goodbye. I left a note.

 A year had passed and I returned to Lagos to visit my family, my health was deteriorating, I was drawing close to home. I came to create my final memories and say my goodbyes. My family was glad to see me, and I could see them all tiptoeing around the issue, trying all they could not to upset me in any way. I found it cute and funny.  I was beginning to find the peace I needed but there was one last thing for me to do.

I drove into the Ilupeju compound, nothing had changed, and Amisu was still at his post. He greeted me with such warmth, I was scared that even he knew, but I remember I always tipped him and he was always happy. I climbed up the stairs and rung the white doorbell that had the Indian inscription on it. It took a few minutes then the door finally opened. No incense surge, it was just latika’s mom greeting me with swollen eyes drenched in tears and a white note in her right hand she had seen me drive in. I turned around and made for the stairs, it’s been a whole year, why is she still crying? “wait” she said, and she handed me the note. It was written in pink ink. Latika left a note.

She was diagnosed with leukemia and her parents had doubled on the incense burning to chase away the bad spirit that was behind the ailment. Talk about attempting to kill the problem with the cause. There was truly a bad spirit……….ignorance.

In her note, she wrote that she had lost all her hair too. Her mom told her she lost it because she was travelling to live with her grandparents and she wont need the hair there. She said I could have it all since I was still here. She packed it in a neat stash behind her dollhouse for me. I was moved to tears, but my heart fell for the devastated mother who stood before me. I held her in a tight embrace and didn’t let go……….


P.S : Shout out to the writer, pure talent, you can read other works by this write on this blog
Enjoy your week people.

My “Sudden” Love for Theatre

Stage Plays Rubiewe (top) Little Drops (down)

For someone like me who registered to join an acting group in 2008/2009 (Lasun Ray Theatre troupe) it was hectic, tiring, stressful , and yoruba-ish (no disrespect intended) I’m in the best position to tell you how “not very encouraging it is in the beginning” for some actors ( especially females )
The very irritating bleached Yoruba actors ( I can mention names ) that bring crap to your table, the stress of auditions, the thought of the millions of people who started the “acting hustle” before you and the dumb conclusion that they had to make it before you.
As a growing child, I loved acting (yea we all did) I’ll stare at my mirror and act my heart out ( lol) I still do.
I thought I was passionate about it and that day when I got that form in 2008 I thought “acting ” was it, one month into it, I couldn’t endure the rigorous rehearsals, getting home late, having to dance till my body ached, having to hear smelling mouthed bleached local idiots make passes at me.

At this point I guess I wasn’t as passionate as I thought I was and so that was the end of my “acting” career that never really started. Over the years, all I knew about Nigeria, acting and actors was “Nollywood”, I had no idea about theatre troupes, I had no idea that there were stage plays, all I ever knew about the Industry was “light” “camera” “action”. Or so I thought.

Stage Plays

Then sometime last year, I began to mix,gist and hang out with a lot of theatre people, I watched a few rehearsals and I began to get interested yet again, I began to fall in love with acting and Theatre as a whole, but this time as an observer.
The burning passion from the actors was very impressive, how they’ll rehearse like their lives depended on it,it was a totally different ball game entirely, their commitment? Spot on.

I began to take details, the “almost near perfect make believe”man made stage, the stage builders/managers who’ll have climb, fall, get pricked by nails, hit their thumbs with hammers, just so the could get the stage right and make it look like the real deal.
You can tell that these people are passionate about this thing called theatre, you can see the passion in their eyes during rehearsals, the way they rehearse their lines and act out their roles like its performance day.

I have come to KNOW that the work put into packaging a proper stage play is NOT child’s play, it is NOT ” just a play”
And even though some don’t have cars, some don’t have fat bank accounts, but you can tell that they have faith in “theatre” they believe it will pay off and I know it will.
It kills me, it burns my heart to know that these people have hustled, rehearsed but have little or nothing to show for it, yet they have decided to stick to their passion.

I won’t be being sentimental if I say that its easier to get the message from a stage play, it’s the real thing, its LIVE, its Stage, before your very eyes.
I find it easier to connect with the live performances and get lost in the amazing musical ambiance created on stage!

Hopefully theatre will get better in Nigeria, Nigerian’s will “willingly” spend the 5,000 they spend watching movies at the cinemas/on concerts, on stage plays.
Nigerian’s will learn to respect the hustle of disciplined theatre artists (actors,dancers,singers)

God bless the theatre artists (Directors, Stage Managers, Actors, Producers and everyone usually involved) , those working really hard, going for auditions, getting disappointed, praying, and putting in their very best, believe me when I say, it will pay off, hold on to your dream, NEVER let go, and Never let anyone tell you, you cannot.


A Lover of Theatre
Read more…

Am I Proudly Nigerian?

Am I Proudly Nigerian?

Am I Proudly Nigerian?

Watching the Opening Ceremony
Of the Olympic Games.

As I watched and awaited the Nigerian flag bearer and entourage, I was on my twitter timeline tweeting and joking away.

And it was amazing how excited we the “common” people of nigeria were, those of us who have never spent government money, some of us who do not have very rich influential oil barons as fathers, you could tell from the tweets that a lot of people were excited and expectant, they couldn’t wait to see their Nigerian reps, they wished them well and they were proud of their people.

I read tweets like “proudly nigerian” and “Nigerian and proud”

Then I asked myself the question, am I proudly Nigerian? What benefits do I get as a Nigerian? If given the opportunity will I rather be a British citizen? Or an American.
My answer was YES, my answer is still YES.

No doubt I’m proud of my black skin, my thick african hair, the food I eat, my culture, my tradition,my curves (*coughs), my accent.

But am I proud of my leaders? Am I proud of the government that rules my country? Am I proud of the leaders I’ve known all my life? Am I? Am I proud of the “Head of my supposed home Nigeria”?
NO, I’m not. I’m not proud of the fraudulent activities my people are involved in, I’m not proud of the lack of security and the insecurity we have to live in, I’m not proud of the incompetence of my government, I’m NOT Proud of Nigeria, there’s nothing to be proud of.
Maybe I’m proud of the few Nigerians who have been able to make a name for themselves irrespective, I’m proud of the Nigerians who stand up to speak against our corrupt leaders, the one’s who make us proud and put our country’s name on the map.

Those are the people I’m proud of, and until Nigeria becomes better, that’s if it ever will be, I WON’T be proud of Nigeria, no doubt I cannot change the fact that I am Nigerian, but no parent will come out to publicly claim a child that brings shame to the family name.

Have you asked yourself. Are you truly, sincerely “Proudly Nigerian”? or maybe the question should be, “Are you proud of Nigeria”?

Stage Play : A Harvest with Soyinka

 A Harvest with Soyinka, Showing Every Sunday in July @ terrakulture 3pm and 6pm. 


A potpourrie of smash hit sketches and short plays from the Nobel Laureate himself Prof Wole Soyinka.


Feature Play is the Nobel Prize winning #Death and the Kings Horseman.


Tickets cost N3500. Call 08034448812 for enquiries




Am I allowed to be my ex’s best friend/close Friend?

🙂 I asked this question on twitter, facebook and bbm and from the replies I could tell that some of my friends wanted to slap me. Lol

Below are some of the replies I got




If the current doesn’t mind, then it’s all good. But beware Okafors law.



Will you allow your partner keep their ex as their besty? If you can allow it then ….

_ Hemba P.T, Deola Bold Ent, Omotomilola



Only if he’s a monk/ pope or dead – Prince Abbas


Excuse to do Nonsense, best friend ko, sunday school teacher ni – Ojay Kukoyi


No you are Not, emotions will always creep in – Edna Reis


There will be divided attention having your ex as best friend. You’re supposed to share just about everythn with ur partner, having to share same with ur ‘bestfrnd/ex’. Just doesn’t seem appropriate – Bunmi Gang


Yes u can be cordial to each other. “Hello”, “Hi” type… Even family friends but NOT sharing secrets and sorrows and all that stuff best friends do – Nwando


You CAN’T be his friend its wrong in the rule of dating

– Kafayat Sholola



Babes,lets get real. being your ex’s best friend,wow it simply means you both still have feelings for each other or you are still having sex..but you can be friends not best friends

– Gbemi Agboola


hmmm! madam!!!! Depends on how well you can handle it and a whole lot of other factors. so it’s yes if you can handle it and no if u cannot… but if your partner/spouse did same, would you be cool with it? think about it

– Ife Love


You guys shouldn’t have broken up in d first instance if u guys wanted to remain as best friend.

– Gbemi Adakomola-Soremi


Of course you are very much allowed….to deceive yourself

– Azeez Aiyekoti



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