CRUSHES GONE WRONG: The Romantic One & The Ignored One.

So this is Shegs and Robert. Telling their stories of what went down with their crushes. One is the story of a crush which later transitioned to becoming mutual love and affection between both. While the other is well, lol. One ignored forever. What was wrong though? 

Let’s see how this goes down.

The Romantic One.

The weather was so calm when she walked into the meeting and then everywhere became quiet. At first I began to stammer but had to summon courage that could contain the pace at which my heart race just like that of a contestant in the popular movie titled deathrace. 

So we became friends, and from just friends to very close friends but every night I would think about her and all I would see is my future, what a mental picture. (smiles).

As if that was not enough, I would sheepishly text her 3-4 times a day just to relief myself from heartache. A voice kept talking in my head “Baba you don jam”. (lol). 

Took me a while before I could define it. Turn out it started as just a crush but transmitted into love. 

The Ignored One.

I’d tell u a crush story gone wrong. So there’s this babe on twitter. She’s like super hot.

And I quickly changed my dp to suit the moment.

Before I slid into her dms. So I did. Immediately she checked my avatar out and hit me back up with a hey wassup u look good. So we start talking. She now started asking me questions. She was fully interested in all the details I gave her. Immediately she asked me wat school I was.

And I told her FUTO she just said ‘okaayy’. And I asked her her uni she basically didn’t reply till today.


CRUSHES GONE WRONG: Living in Denial.

This one is from Cynthia also known as Cyndy. Here she narrates her escapades on finding love and waiting for its acknowledgement while in Secondary School.

These were written in her words, no edits. Just as she sent it in.

If you can relate with your secondary school crush, say hi and leave your comment below. 

Hmm… Taking myself to my early teen days, I had moved to a new school with expectations of making new beautiful Yoruba friends, putting into consideration my parents and their strictness, guys were exempted from my expectations.

But then I was caught up, yeah… I was caught! 

I found myself wanting to go to school very early, wanting to be present at Further Maths classes even when the topics were so boring.

I had found chants beneath the boredom __don’t stress your thoughts please, I had found a crush (as called), my self had whispered “you’re definitely in love”… I was craay enough to believe myself.

He wasn’t what I’d call my type I knew yet I found myself tripping, attending classes I wasn’t meant to attend, leaving classes each time I found my so-called crush outside, I found myself trying to convince my parents allow me attend extra classes.

Was I even in love?  I’d always ask myself, I think I had a stronger demon who’d always mildly say “oh, yeah, you are”

I was living in denial, yeah I was.

I found myself talking and replying in front of my mirror, Sneaked to cafe to learn punchlines online so Incase my long dreamt dream happens I’d be able to deliver, 

I found myself wanting to talk to everyone around me about how I felt, Found myself writing hidden love letters without headings.

I don’t know if it was over those chai-sutta breaks or there so, but I know I liked him just a little bit more everyday 

I saw him look at me more than once, he’d steal glances,  this grew  tingling sensations, I was beginning to think it was true. I decided not to tell him, or do anything about it, because that was the right thing to do..(I thought) 

I lived with my silent thought for few years, my eyes had cleared, just when the bad announcement came in… I was leaving my school, I was relocating to another state with my family, 

I was gonna live forever without setting my eyes on my crush again, Maybe my learnt punchlines are now useless, I thought to myself.

 I wish life had played out differently. I wish I’d had the guts to own up to my feelings, because now all I have is a memory of the good times.

Follow Cyndy here

If you loved this, please like and don’t forget to send in your stories via my DM on any of my profiles on my Social Media handles below. Or send me a mail at

Love xx ❤❤



Hey IMFY Fam. Guess whaaatt???



I have a new series coming up on the blog and it begins today. It would run for quite a while depending on some factors such as my content calendar and engagement.

The Crushes Gone Wrong series is dedicated to sharing stories of some of our crushes which well were not successful. And by successful, I mean the person noticed you, liked you back…xysjekwowmf. You know the rest.

All the silly things we did to seek their attention; stalking social media pages, strategic positioning, being too nice around them, all of those weird things which we can now laugh about because you’re over them now.

Your fairy godmother rang a bell in your heard like ‘Aunty, e no go work’ and your brain reset.

Tell me all of that, I want to know.

Send me a DM across all SM platforms with your stories, it doesn’t have to be modified, just like a chat. Or a mail here.

Use the #crushesgonewrong let us have someeee fuuuunnn. 

Share with your friends, let’s do this.

Love xx ❤

Do You See Me?

With a fractured heart, I want to write about all the times I took the back seat. The times I sat in the shadows and traced the contours of your face on the canvas of my heart while you laughed at her jokes. 

I can’t seem to make you happy like she does. Why? What am I doing wrongly. I stayed awake all night cramming the lyrics to your favourite song. Just so. Just so, I could have a conversation with you. I just wanted to impress you. You gave me a smile and told me that you thought it was cool. Was it cool, or was I cool ? 

Do you see me?

I had a good feeling about that day, so I dressed up excitedly in a rush to see your face again. They kept playing in my head like a movie. Those kind of movies where two lovers play in the garden, and everything is in slow motion. Romance, they call it. But when I walked into the class, you were with her, hands across her neck, sharing an ear piece and occassionally staring into each other’s eyes. 

You didn’t even see me walk in.

Look at me.

Yes, you. You, look at me. Me. With those brown eyes I want you to stare into my soul, because today I’m baring it all for you. Don’t be afraid. Please just look at me. 

What do you see?

Your early morning sunshine on a good day or your darkness on a lonely road. Your red light turning to a green light when you’re in a rush, or your green light turning to a red light when it’s your turn. Your excitement or your disappointment, your fantasy or your nightmare, your widest smile or your hardened frown, your serenity or your restlessness.

I can be both.

Just look at me.

Do you see me?


Dear God,

I just want to say that I’m grateful for the little wins I’ve experienced in my life. The big wins are coming, I know it, I feel it. But while I’m waiting for them to come I’m eager to get my gear ready in preparation.

I don’t want to be caught unawares when it comes, so yes I am trusting the process, YOUR process. I’m ready to follow your path, let me walk with You.

I’m grateful for my data subscription which I finally did after some time, it might seem irrelevant but thank you. 

Four years ago, I made the decision to talk to you about every thing concerning me. I’ve always known You, accepted You and believed in You, but that day in 2014 when I was feeling so hurt, powerless and heartbroken, I sat on the floor of the bathroom and I cried, and I said ‘God please, I don’t want to experience any form of pain from anyone, anything, any circumstance, any where. If there is anyone in the future who is going to cause me any form of pain and disappointment, please find a way to take them out of my life, I never want to know them. Just please. I can’t handle it, I can’t, I’m tired, please I’m tired, I’m just tired’ I said repeatedly. 
And from then till now, you’ve kept our pact. My gist partner. From daily gossips about how I was disobedient to you to little whispers of ‘Come, this lecture won’t hold o’ to ‘God abeg you know I need clothes now, how far nah?’ 

You make a way when there is no way.

When I gave my life to you in 2012, I could hear whispers everytime in my ear, it was a daily conversation. I could be walking and smiling to myself just gisting with you, can you imagine you even told me things people would tell me even before they approach me. Which kain spy you be sef? 

But then I withdrew from You, I made excuses with school stress and irrelevancies. I spent more time thinking about my unproductivity instead of just talking with You. I broke our bond.

I’m not going to lie, I felt empty. I mean I know I love and fear You, You are my real G and at the same time my Father and also my Bro, but what’s with the emptiness? 

Please I want you back.

At some point, I started to Google ‘Must every Christian speak in tongues?’, because I thought somethinf was wrong with me, I couldn’t speak in tongues. I’ve tried-ish. I heard it would come naturally, like you’d just see your lips moving on its own.  I think the first time I almost spoke in tongues was at a music concert in school, I was scared. I felt I would sound weird, and my mind kept telling me ‘maybe it wasn’t real, you’re a  fake’. So I literally swallowed it in and just continue my worship.

But in November 2017, I finally did.

I wrote the date down, I told my parents, my sisters. I was so excited. You haven’t completely left me after all. You’re still with me. Nothing is wrong with me, I’m your masterpiece, you assured me of that

Every thing about me and my life is intentional and deliberate, not a coincidence. I am perfect and excellent, in you. It’s not fate, it’s your divine plan. Everything I need you have offered to me on a platter of gold and told me to have a seat at the table. You called me and said ‘You have earned a seat at the table just by existing’. 

My life and purpose have been perfected by You from the onset, I’m just living it all out. In prayers and supplication, I have made my requests known to you and everytime you giggle and remind me that I already have it. ‘Just thank me’, you s Lol. You’re such a cool dad. Trying to remind me of my manners.

For my family, friends, health, thank you. For the right connections which you’ve brought to me, thank you. For that my last 200 naira I gave that stranger that day and got back in 10 folds, thank you. For safe journeys during my random trips, Thank You. For finding shuttle early on time today, Thank You. I for miss Mr. Etus class today. For those random tweets for opportunities appearing on my Timeline, Thank You. For letting me be a source of encouragement to others, Thank You. And for helping me get over my occasional depression, Thank You. 

Thank You Dad, Thank you. I love you.

I am…

On today’s episode of asking myself what my passion is, or my talent is. I mean like I go on social media, Facebook, Instagram, Twitter e.t.c and I see people engaging in various crafts and skills and are extremely good at it. It could be baking, or making clothes, photography, singing, music production, artist…just so many creative things, and it just hurts me. No in the I’m a hater way but in the, ‘What exactly is wrong with me? What am I doing wrong?’

I’ve given my self so many excuses for not focusing on one thing. I start sowing, and due to my impatience, get frustrated, think I am never going to be a fashion creative that I’ve always wanted to be, then sulk away my frustrations. And that’s the end. 

‘What is your talent, Ugonna?’. You can bake, but you can’t bake, you can sow but you can’t sow, you can dance but you don’t dance, you can sketch clothes but you don’t that, you are good at so many things, so why aren’t you doing them or making some sort of living out of them?

In that moment, just one simple answer popped into my head and it was ‘Writing’.

You can write.

You can paint the picture that you see in your head to the readers to feel what you feel too and you’re so damn good at that, give yourself some credit. And even if you think you’re not as good as you want to be.

Writing is you, you are writing. You are one.

You’ve been expressing your feelings in words for more than 12 years of your life. You love this. It gives you comfort. When you felt all alone like the world was moving on without you, you found solace in your words.

When the first words your scribbled on your locker in secondary school were the lyrics to Gavin Degraw’s I don’t want to be, those lyrics spoke to you, you felt them and you wanted them in your memory, in your life forever.

When you wrote down poems, and short stories, and love letters to yourself and even those bits of romance composed in your head with no one to express that strong feeling of affection to, you did that with your words.

Those were the same words you wrote at the back of your examination paper explaining what art meant and felt to you, without even thinking of the fate of the examination that you just wrote.

Those same words you used to say good bye to your grandma even when you knew she wouldn’t be reading it. But you just wanted to let her know still, how much you missed her and the her soft palms, and what a world without her would feel like.

Your words are your power. You have the key to the world you desire. Like Ladi Kwali, you mould and shape and spin the life you want into existence but this time with your words. Your words can give life, peace, resurrect, grow, suffocate, intoxicate, over shadow, levitate, bind, heal, push, even as much as kill as much negativity as possible. Don’t neglect it. Don’t let it die. Don’t limit it, don’t put a time or a date to it. Let it glow.

Go be the star you know you should be. In your own words of comfort said in front of the mirror with inspiration from Issa Rae. ‘You are the shit!’

Love xx ❤❤

How To Sleep.

1. Tell everyone around you that you’re going to bed, if there is anyone, that is. Announce it so loud. ‘I’m going to bed soon!!!!!!!!!‘, keep saying it. Use it as an excuse for doing any errand such as, getting a glass of water for your mum or elder sister. Announce it this instant. Be woke.

*Evil Grin*

2. Do the finish touches with your phone: Say goodnight to your lovers and future lovers, best friends, haters. Check again if all your WhatAapp groups are muted to avoid waking up to 600 messages of crap. Set the alarm for the next day, to-do list, do it all.

3. Lie on the bed.

4. Close your eyes,

5. Pretend to sleep.

6. Pretend to dream, this time your imaginations are very useful. You can be anything. From Omari Hardwick to Donald Trump, Tyra Banks to Amber Rose. Oh, and by the way I love Omari, he is the absolute hottest. If I was hot enough, I would have stalked my way into his life and gotten married to him. Soulmate.

Yeah, this is the kind of dreams you need to have.


7. Have you prayed? Shame on you, Sinner! scoffs

Judging you.

8. Pray.

9. Go back to pretending.

10. Goodnight.

Hope this isn’t you the next morning though.



Bet you thought this was some serious stuff, you see I’m embarking on this non-serious attitude/mood. I don’t know how that’s turning out, but I’m trying to just keep whining about things I never want to talk about and have someone to listen to me. Isn’t that the life? And hopefully I get to be ‘April Fooled’ next year. I’m still hurt guys, still hurt. Just so you know. (No one played a prank on me.)

I have missed your cute and beautiful, amazing selves on the blog. And finally putting out something today means everything to me so I thought hey, some humour wouldn’t hurt. Sorry, the gif’s aren’t much.

I love you all.