Articles by Enuma Okoro
11 Feb 2018
As a child, I spent two years living in Nigeria when I was 7 and 8 years old. During that time, my father bought me history-themed comic books that taught me about African American history.
28 Jan 2018
A few months ago, at a recent forum on ‘Africa and Media,’ I got into a vibrant discussion with another African writer about the types of stories we choose to tell about the continent.
20 Dec 2017
The American Embassy in Abuja recently hosted a screening of Grammy-nominated film, The Music of Strangers. There were over 100 people gathered...
8 Oct 2017
Given a few things that have happened lately around Nigeria and (popular) culture, I imagine I should write about something to do with fashion.
10 Sep 2017
Challenges will always arise - Whatever you become successful at, there will always be bumps and hiccups along the way, things to learn and practice, and most certainly some failures to move beyond.
9 Sep 2017
At barely 5’1, she’s petite, slight of frame, and just 24 years old. Yet there is nothing small about Kiki Osinbajo’s goals and her determination to execute them.
3 Sep 2017
Year ago, while earning my degree in Psychology, I ended up having to endure the Trust Fall test in a few team building and social psychology exercises.
2 Sep 2017
It’s always an encouraging thing when people see a gap in the society and reach out to try and fill it. Especially when filling that gap meets the needs of an audience mostly glazed over in certain industries of mainstream society.
23 Aug 2017
Some of my strongest early childhood memories are of sitting on our living room carpet drawing some silly image in my head, writing childish poems or randomly reading the dictionary or encyclopaedia.
9 Jul 2017
I don’t wear a lot of makeup. Mostly because it takes too much time but also because I rarely like how I look in it. I always feel a little bit like a clown or an imposter, and not the real me.
16 Apr 2017
When I was about thirteen I memorized my first real poem. It was “Nothing Gold Can Stay,” by Robert Frost. I loved the melodic sound of the words as they slipped from my mouth, sliding in rhyme against one another.
4 Mar 2017
White pick-up truck drives slowly into a deserted plot of land on the edge of the forest. There are two men in the front seat and one is wearing a red and white scarf over his face only exposing his eyes.