Hi, I’m Lolade. I’m a writer, editor and musician. I’m reclusive and not good with conversations because I’m socially awkward. It’s getting better now, but there was a time when it felt like people were pinching me just by talking to me. I’d choose dark elements over joy and fun. I’m like Wednesday Addams; I’ve loved her since I was a child. I love horror, but more than that, I love psycho-thrillers. I have a weird relationship with animal protein in the sense that I still eat it, but I don’t enjoy the taste or the thought that it was once alive. I’m vegan, but just lazy because it’s hard work. I was also a child genius.

Tell me about the child genius bit

I entered JSS 1 at age eight because I skipped four classes in primary school. I was good at school, so everybody assumed I’d study medicine. That must be where my social awkwardness came from. My classmates were years ahead of me, so I was always worried I’d say something stupid. I had a baby voice, and people always made sure to point that out. I was always hung up about whether what I’m about to say would make any sense. 

Just because I was smart, people were like, “You have to go to science class.” But I’ve been artistic for as long as I can remember. I love to draw. As a child, I’d take all my picture storybooks, recreate them page by page and paste the pictures all over my room walls. Everyone just ignored that and said, “You’ll sha still study medicine.”

On school variety days, the social people would get to participate in dance and drama, but I had to do debates, spelling bees and math competitions. I’d win the competitions, fair, but I just wanted to dance, sing and do all those other things. But I’d always hear, “No. That’s not you.” I was sad and lonely because people had put me in a box, making me reluctant to be around others. 

Was your reluctance a growing-up thing, or did it stick with you?

By university, I’d gotten used to being the strange one. I just wanted to be on my own, so I’d destroy my friendships without knowing. I’d be friends with some people for several months, and then suddenly, I’d just start acting up. It was like an out-of-body experience. I’d start doing all sorts of stupid things, and before you know it, they can’t stand me. 

What did you study at uni?

Architecture, which is like medicine. You need to be passionate to study it, or you’d be sad. The late nights at the studio, drawing buildings from skeleton to roof — I still have chronic back pains from my years in architecture school. I hated it so much I had a panic attack in my first semester. Studying architecture is one of my biggest regrets in life. And to think my family thought it was a good compromise between medicine and visual art. I never practised architecture for one day.

How did you go from reclusive genius to architecture hater to musician? 

I’ve always loved music. 

One of my biggest issues in life is how I’m good at and interested in too many things — drawing, storytelling, singing. When I graduated from university at 19, I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. But I’ve always sung in church and school. I always joined the choir, but no one paid attention to me. Because of that, I believed my voice was average, so I even started singing off-key on purpose. No one knew I could sing in school, except my roommates. 

I didn’t know where to start with music until I went to Calabar for NYSC in 2016. I stayed at my mum’s friend’s house whose husband was a commissioner, and a lot of young people would just come over to hang out with them. One day, I met this woman who just opened a music school. She talked about her passion for music, and how she started as a dancer and had won several competitions. She was better at dancing, but she wanted to sing, so she started taking vocal classes. I was so excited by her story.

She gave me her number, I visited her school, and that was how I started taking vocal classes. In my very first class, she sat at her piano and just said, “Sing”. I did. She was like, “Wow. See sweet voice oh.” I was like, “Oh, me?” It was then I started to think I could actually be a professional singer. We were both dreamers. She made me feel like I could do the seemingly impossible things I dreamt of doing. 

I can’t put into words how I feel just listening to music or watching someone perform. It was refreshing to meet someone who understood that. She taught me how to exercise my voice, perform with it, make it convey emotion and pass a message. When I applied these techniques, I sounded almost like the great performers I admired.

Since you now know all the techniques, do great music performances still impress you? 

I won’t say I know all the techniques o. Learning never stops. But I criticise a lot more. Sometimes, I hear Mariah Carey sing, and I’m like, “This woman is straining her voice here”. But I don’t do that in public o. MC is a vocal goddess, please. But it’s also made music more achievable. The classic composers — Beethoven, Mozart, etc. — made great symphonies because they had all the time and support from the church and state, not some superior talent. 

What else do you do besides being a regular hater?

I hate on things for sport. Hating what most people like is training. If you can argue against what most people argue for, it would arm you with the skill to have an argument for anything at any given time and to get out of any situation. 

I’m also a good writer. But I write mostly fiction. I’ve been working on a book since 2016. I actually finished 500 pages of a first draft in 2019, but I’ve been rewriting it since then.

For what audience — millennials, young adults? Or is it for everyone?

It’s a family saga that cuts through five generations of women. So there’s a section that could be YA, but the book as a whole is an adult read. I want it to be a timeless piece. 

What happened after the singing lessons in Calabar? How did your music career kick-off?

I don’t think my music career has kicked off yet, TBH. I’m still experimenting and figuring things out. The music industry is a lot.

As part of my training in Calabar, I had to make a cover video and post it on YouTube. So I did Asa’s Bibanke. As soon as I got back to Lagos, I started posting more covers on social media, and everybody was shocked to see them. My first real performance was during a church Independence Day celebration in 2016, where I sang the national anthem.

I got a lot of engagement on my covers because nobody knew I could sing — not even my extended family members, many of whom were quite disappointed I chose to pursue something “unserious”. I’ll never forget my uncle calling me over the phone to tell me I’d never succeed as a musician because I was an efiko, and I should just give up now. He said I was making a fool of myself.

What keeps you going despite the struggles?

The numbness I feel with everything else.

Meanwhile, my out-of-body experiences happen most strongly on stage. When I start performing a song I love, in front of people, there’s this joy I feel. Nothing else makes me genuinely happy like that. Regardless of whether I’m making money from it, I feel so proud of myself when I’m just singing. When I was younger, one of the happiest things that ever happened to me was when the Disney Channel came to our TVs. I remember being so amazed by the movies and shows. I’d watch them over and over just to learn the lyrics to the songs.

How did writing and editing now come in?

In secondary school, I started writing stories in notebooks just because my best friend could write and I was jealous. We both loved reading novels, so it was kind of natural. In uni, I led the student press and media team. Some months after NYSC, I started freelance writing to support myself while shooting and posting my covers, because my parents were worried I might turn into a layabout. 

So your parents weren’t supportive?

They were, and still are, in their own way.

They had friends in the gospel music industry, and they’d always introduce me to them. But I remember one time, this particular friend of theirs listened to me sing, and we talked about what I could do to kickstart my career, like coming to his studio to record. I told my father about our conversation. He later said he’d talked to the man privately and he’d advised that, though I had promise, I should get a job first. So I got a job.

A few weeks later, the man called and invited me to meet with some people. I responded with, “Oh, I’m at work. Can we do it during the weekend?” He sounded really surprised. From that point on, he hasn’t invited me for anything or tried to help my career. It’s clear now that my dad lied about the man’s advice, but I stayed at the job for the next four and a half years. I got to meet many people in the entertainment industry there, and I’d always be like, “What the fuck am I doing here? Why am I meeting people who can help my career but not being able to leverage it?”

In hindsight, I know none of these people are interested in helping anyone’s career. A whole machine exists in the music industry that nobody ever tells you about. Nobody really wants to sign you or make you a star. There are way too many aspiring musicians for that, and 90% of them are extremely good. Some are even multi-skilled and know big names in the industry, but still don’t get signed.

The only thing that helps is a music executive’s perception of you and how much money they’d make immediately, or a certain storyline or criteria you fit. No one really knows what that criteria is until they see it.

I know you have a song out called “happy”. Are you working on any new music? 

I have seven unreleased songs, and I’m working on more. But I don’t know when I’ll drop them. I hope “happy” will be the only song I’ll drop on my own. It was an experiment to see what it would be like to drop a song and promote it on my own, and how far it’ll go organically. 

Why are you hoarding your songs? 

What else will I use to pitch to potential investors? One thing about creative projects is only 20% of the budget goes into producing the art. 80% should be for promoting it. Right now, I only have enough to produce my art. I don’t want to waste it with zero-budget promotion. That’s how it’s done in K-pop. They spend $1m to produce a song and video and reserve $9m for aggressive promotion.

Is this you soft-launching yourself on the internet as a K-pop fan?

I’m lowkey trying to refrain from using Blackpink as an example. 

2023 will be about getting sponsorships, which could come in many forms. There’s the record deal everyone’s striving for, there’s actual sponsorship or investment, management deals, so many options.

Which artists influence your music?

I have too many influences. I listen to all kinds of artists — new, old, legendary, underground, local, western, Asian — and they all influence my music. But to summarise, I’d start with my Nigerian love, Tiwa Savage. I love her staying power. More than everything else, I love that she started again at an advanced age and still killed it. She inspires me to keep going. 

I’m fascinated by tragic icons who’ve passed, like Michael Jackson, Kurt Cobain, and my fave, Aaliyah. I also like hearing strong, sonorous vocals, people who sing with pure, bright tones. And I’m inspired by people who really get into performing their songs — choreo, acting, complex stage production. Nigerian artists don’t do that, and I get why. Nigerian fans prefer when you shout and hype and just vibe with them. They don’t send all the other oversabi.

Do you have a favourite career moment? 

My favourite career moment happened recently. I attended an industry event with a lot of influential people to support my mum. She’d just completed a music business and management program because she wants to help me in this struggle.

The organiser invited her to a reserved seat right in front — of course, I tagged along. He especially recognised her in his speech, saying the industry tries hard to encourage Nigerian parents to support their children’s music careers. But my mum didn’t just show interest, she participated in the program, all the projects and was even involved in planning the event.

Once the event ended, an influential woman in the industry walked up to her and said, “It’s so good to finally meet you, Ma.” I literally froze when I saw her stand in front of me. She turned to me, greeted me and shook my hand. I was shooketh. And that’s how people kept coming to my mum, and through her, I got to meet different managers of big artists.

There was this Jamaican music exec who said to me, “You have a mum that supports and is actively involved in your career. You’ll definitely go places.” The whole night was the highest of highs for me. 

How much more do you hope to do with music in the next couple of years?

Just because I’m obsessed with music, I know I’ll have an entertainment company structured just like K-pop companies. 

After NYSC, I was obsessed with the idea of getting a record deal. I still want one because it does help with structure. But now, I have an artistic vision for my sound and visuals. I already know how my songs will lead up to each other, the storyline of my entire discography. I even have a Pinterest account with secret vision boards for each song. I’m on my bed every night, just scrolling through those boards, reminding myself about all the ideas and how they connect. 

It’s interesting because I’m finding out now that many of these record companies want stuff like that. They won’t even sign you until they’re sure you’re marketable — and for a long time. So this is my safety net. Whenever a record label decides to approach me, I already have ten years’ worth of content to show. I’m just waiting for a platform, and while I wait, I’m working on having my own resources. 

You call yourself the “Queen of Lagosians”. Why? 

I come from an old Yoruba family that’s originally from Lagos. One time in 2019, I attended a family owambe, where I wore traditional lace and aso-oke with my mum’s corals. When I posted the photos on Instagram, my friends started calling me “Queen of Lagos”. 

I changed it to “Queen of Lagosians” because I want to be the queen of people’s hearts, not just a location. I’m obsessed with royalty, so a while back I heard about this woman in history called Mary, Queen of Scots, who had a very sad life. And because sadness fascinates me, I’m obsessed with her too. Even though she was the sovereign queen of Scotland, she lived in France for a long time and had a French accent, so her people didn’t like her. She tried to endear herself to them by saying she was the Queen of “Scots”. Also, Princess Diana was asked in an interview whether she thinks she’d ever be the Queen of England. She said no, but that she wanted to be the queen of people’s hearts. 

In my mind, I was like, I don’t want to be the Queen of Lagos. I want to be the Queen of Lagosians, queen of the people. 

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Hi. I’m Hamda.

I’m 25, IJN. COVID stole two years of my life, so that may or may not be my actual age. I’m very crafty and hands-on. If I were a cartoon character, I’d be Bob the Builder. I illustrate, create videos, write and make outfits. I just like making shit. I think the content I create is vibes. I play a lot. I don’t take life too seriously, and I think it translates into my content. It gives off “joy”. 

You have the prettiest name. Is there a story there?

This name thing! I was named after my paternal grandmother. She’s late now, and I genuinely liked her. She was so full of life. The kind of grandma who went to parties every weekend. My government name is Oladoyin Hamdallah Odukoya. I started using Hamdallah in uni because I’ve always liked my middle name, but Nigerians always mispronounce and misspell it, so I shortened it to Hamda.

Oh, I can definitely relate to that. When did you officially begin your content creator journey?

In 2021. For me it was two things: I wanted to go out more, and I wanted to document my journey. I’d heard people say I would do well as a creator because of my personality. Plus, I used to work in an agency, and the influencers’ rate cards used to wow me. I couldn’t wrap my head around how posting one video got them one million naira. So, I sat down one day and just decided I’m going to be a creator.

You’re so real for that. Do you remember your first project?

My first collaboration project was for a hair brand. They shared a promo package with me, and I’ll always remember it fondly because I felt recognised. I did an unboxing video instead of a ‘get ready with me’ and found an engaging way to tell the story.

Does what you do tie in with what you studied in school?

Nope. My parents paid school fees for me to study architecture o! I even did a masters. Last month, my uncle still called me to explain why architecture is the truth and the light, but I know I can never return to it. I quit my architecture job in 2019 because that thing was sucking my blood. I’d gotten to the point where I was dreading going to work every day. It was just depressing. I sha took a risk and quit, but the plan was to find another Architecture job. A number of interviews later, lockdown happened, and I was stuck at home. I was applying for jobs remotely, learning new architecture software — and scrolling aimlessly through social media like the rest of us. 

I found content marketing by mistake. I saw one ad for digital marketing course on Instagram. I found it interesting, and it sounded like something I could do, so I applied. That was the start of my content journey.

Why did you limit “The Lagos Tourist” to Lagos?

Omo, I’ve always been within or around Lagos. I was born in Mowe, Ogun state, but my primary school was in Lagos. We used to wake up at 4:30 a.m., and my mum would drive my siblings and I to Lagos from 6:00 everyday. Lagos is home in a way. All my friends are in Lagos. I did my NYSC in Lagos. Lagos is in my blood. 

I love Lagos, but omo, this city needs help. How did you catch the traveling bug?

If you’ve ever heard the phrase, “Omo, get inside,” that was me. I think it’s one of the major reasons I’m an explorer as an adult. How did I start travelling? Depression, bro. 2019 to 2020 was the most mentally draining period of my life. I just knew I needed to get outside more. It started from taking morning and evening walks, and I saw how that uplifted my mood. 

I wanted to travel, but Nigeria and sapa did not allow me to be great. So, I decided to explore locally, and I began to go to different places once or twice weekly. It was generally feel-good, and it helped with my state of mind. 

What are some of the best projects you’ve worked on?

The most exciting one so far was my first trip. I think I’m very sentimental about it because it was a reassurance that my community actually sees me, the way they showed up for me. We went to Omu Resort, and it was the first time I organised an event, so I kept stressing over the tiny details. But it turned out well, and I used it as a template for future trips.

Has it been smooth sailing ever since?

 I still struggle with taking risks. For every major risk I’ve taken, there was some external push. It shocks me how much people believe in my skills sometimes. 

What’s the most and least you’ve charged to create content?

The least I’ve gotten paid for content was ₦30k. The most I’ve charged was  ₦1m.

How do you price these things?

I have a rate card that states the cost of each content format — reels, feed post, story and in-person appearance. In the end, it all boils down to negotiation between me, my manager and the client. We agree on the content type and projected timelines. I always require creative freedom because I work best when my mind is free. We send an invoice, and alert ma wole.

Have you ever regretted taking a bet on yourself with content creation? 

I never really regret anything because I tend to do things with my chest. I have a coconut head, and it comes with the package. I think it’s one of the best decisions I’ve made because I make more money as a content creator than from my 9-5. But I still feel like I’m just starting out. I have some structure, with two managers — a talent manager who helps with daily content and client negotiations, and an events manager who plans my trips and experiences. 

Initially, I would create content blindly, but I’m finally hacking the monetisation aspect of it and how to leverage communities. I’ve not neared my peak yet.

Why is it important for you to be managed by two people?

I used to have one manager to manage me and the event side of things. But I realised how hard it was to balance. She was really great on the client management side, but the events kept suffering.

And although I’m not a fulltime creator yet, I work like one. So the pressure was a lot. I was burning out quickly, and it was telling on my work across board. 

I had to hire the events manager. Now, I handle creating the actual content — scripting, shooting, video editing. One manager helps with contract negotiation, responding to mails and generally getting brands to approach “The Lagos Tourist” brand. And the other does things like location scouting and vendor management. Sometimes, we’re intertwined. Everybody chips in on content and gives feedback.

How do you stay so relatable?

I think I’ve hacked Nigerian storytelling. We like drama, we like gist — this helps me craft my scripts properly. I’m also always on social media, so I know what’s trending in the country. It’s basically just staying abreast with cultural trends and telling that story with my brand voice.

Any longterm projects we should expect?

Yes! Just know it involves plenty of group travels. I also want to delve into podcasting, but I can’t tell you much about it now because it’s still in the development phase.

What’s something you’d have done differently now that you know better?

Three things. First, I would’ve put out content on TikTok and YouTube from day one. My Instagram page growth has been amazing, but I know if I’d just repurposed the content for TikTok and YouTube shorts, I would’ve grown my page across board. Doing it now feels like a chore. Na every time my manager dey drag me.

Another thing is, I would’ve reached out for more collaborations when I first started. I’m a generally shy person even though nobody ever believes me when I say so. It was only when other creators started reaching out for collabs that I realised the importance of it. I’m still a shy girl, but I’ve been accepting more invitations and intentionally asking people whose content I resonate with for potential collabs.

The third thing I would’ve done differently is charge enough from the start. If I had been communicating with other creators, I could’ve asked them what they charged at what point. In the creator economy, nobody really knows what anybody else charges, and when you first start out, you’re never sure if you’re overcharging or undercharging. So, yeah, I definitely would’ve asked fellow creators more questions. 

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Here are eight traits people who’ve been single for too long exhibit.

They want to do everything 

Matching outfits, couple poses, couple TikToks — you name it. Every day, they’d send you something new they want you guys to try. It’s pretty cute for someone to be that excited sha. But God help you that you’re not as enthusiastic as them. 

They don’t know how to share

This one is tricky because they might just be a stingy rat. But these guys have been single for so long that sharing anything, especially food, is hard for them. It’s frustrating when you’re trying to have a romantic meal together, and they’re more concerned about their own plate than spending time with you.

They still have dating apps

Someone who’s been for the streets for a long time can’t just enter a healthy relationship and leave everything behind like that. They might need it for the validation of getting matched, but e dey pain sha. 

They get attached too quickly

The first date isn’t even over, and they’re already picking out aso-ebi. The moment they say, “I’ve never felt this way before. This feels different,” know it’s the five years of being single that’s talking through them.

They’re too independent 

These guys will tell you their love language is acts of service but would rather die than let you do something for them. 

They’ll forget you exist 

They’ll forget to text to check up or ask about your day. You’d even have to keep remind them of your name. They’d go out and forget to send you their location, and you’ll just be there wondering if you’re fighting. No, dear. It’s the long-term singleness exhibiting itself.

Everything is a competition 

If you try play fighting with them, they’ll nearly break your neck, because softness has been missing from their lives for a while. You want to play Whot? That’s the day the relationship will end. They’ll give you like ten “pick two”, after claiming to love you.

You’ll know more about their ex than you know yourself 

From the first date, all you’ll hear is how their ex’s traits are their current deal breakers. Every two seconds, their ex’s name will come up. Dating people who’ve been single for too long isn’t for the weak.

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Here are some things that shouldn’t be in your fridge, and if they’re, what it says about you. 

Garri 

If you store your garri in the fridge, people shouldn’t joke with you at all o. You’ll defo break bottle on your head to remind people you’re not normal, at least twice a week. I’ve never met a normal person who actually likes garri, so carry on.

Jollof rice 

Jollof rice should be eaten hot and fresh, with heat nearly blinding you. Why are you eating jollof that has lost its essence from multiple defrosting? Are you against enjoyment?

Yam 

Yam is already hard and void of love. You now want to store it in the fridge so it can get harder? It’ll turn into a rock-hard weapon that’s impossible to cut or peel, like you and all the layers of wickedness in your heart. Sheesh.

Plantain chips 

If you store your plantain chips in the fridge, you’re definitely a first born used to hiding food from your siblings. Storing them in the fridge will ruin the experience, abeg.

Suya 

Suya is supposed to be eaten hot, preferably on the road to your house, so you don’t share it. Anyone who can eat cold suya can eat a human being. Yes, I said it.

Bread

Your taste buds stopped working when you were ten years old, if you store bread in the fridge. Imagine choosing to defrost bread, might as well soak it in water and eat it like cereal.

Onions

Onions need to breathe somewhere dry. How do I know? The Zikoko Bureau of Statistics, of course. I just know you don’t allow the people in your life to breathe when you’re around.

Honey

Storing honey in the fridge is like locking your puppy in a closet — it’s cruel and unnecessary. Honey lasts forever; chilling it will just make it thick and difficult to use.

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“Agency”

A woman who loves money works her way up to becoming the first female executive in a major advertising agency. Agency is perfect for fans of movies with strong and ambitious female leads, like Search WWW.

“Poong, the Joseon Psychiatrist” Season 2

It’s a  lighthearted series about medical practitioners in the Joseon era. This is the second season, and they’re finally focusing on the blossoming romance between Se-poong and Eun-woo. Watch this for a good laugh. 

“Crash Course in Romance” 

Secret Sunshine’s Jeon Do-yeon and Hospital Playlist’s Jung Kyung-ho star in this drama about two people who are like oil and water. She’s a cheerful former pro athlete who now runs a small store selling side dishes. He’s a celebrity maths teacher who’s always grumpy. Somehow, their lives get tangled up. Their love story will have you hooked.

“Can We Be Strangers?”

A legal drama that marks Kang So-ra’s comeback from Warm and Cozy as a legendary divorce lawyer who happens to be a divorcee herself. She meets her lawyer ex-husband again when they become colleagues at the same law firm. What could go wrong? Everything. 

“Kokdu: Season of Deity”

Kim Jung-hyun and Im Soo-hyang team up for a fantasy romance about a man who was turned into a grim reaper as punishment for his sins. Now, he possesses a human who looks just like him every 99 years. It’s sweet, it’s fantasy, and it’s romantic. 

“Love to Hate You”

A comedy about two people who don’t believe in love. One’s an entertainment lawyer, and the other is an A-list actor. Add a dating contract agreement and the chaotic celebrity life, and it’s every romcom lover’s dream series.

“The Heavenly Idol”

A fantastical tale that involves body swapping and devil fighting. Kim Min-kyu plays a high priest with divine powers who wakes up in the body of an unpopular idol from the band, Wild Animals. 

“Taxi Driver 2”

For fans of action-packed drama, Taxi Driver 2 is about a former special force captain who acts as an ace for a secret vigilante service. Who doesn’t love a good vigilante drama?

Saguek  

A Korean historical drama, usually set in the Joseon era.

Oppa 

Younger women use this word as a cute way to refer to their older brothers or boyfriends.

Chaebol  

Dirty, “will buy your family’s silence”, stinky rich businessmen who are also always the bad guys or the ones paying the bad guys. 

Second lead syndrome  

When the second male lead has more chemistry with the female lead than the main male lead, so you start rooting for him instead. It always ends in tears.

Makjang 

You know those dramas with unnecessarily exaggerated or weird plot twists? This is how we describe them. *Coughs The Penthouse: War In Life series.

Hallyu 

Nollywood is Nigeria what Hallyu is to Koreans. Or better still, popular Korean culture. 

Kimchi slap

Back in the good old K-drama days, you couldn’t watch a K-drama without someone getting slapped with a kimchi covered hand.

Noona 

Term of endearment for older sisters. Or a younger man can use it to refer to his older girlfriend.

Ahjumma 

It means “older woman”, but is mostly used to describe those nosey-ass older female characters in K-drama.

OST 

Everyone knows OST means the “original soundtrack” of a drama. But it’s particularly popular in K-drama because it usually features popular K-pop artists.  

Saranghae

This means “I love you” in Korean. It’s usually followed by a finger heart or those big full-body ones.

Soju 

The principality and powers in alcohol form Koreans drink like water in K-drama.  

PPL  

Product placement in a drama. If you’re a K-drama fan who uses a Samsung, I’m not saying it’s years of conditioning, but hmm. PPL is basically that shameless but craftily hidden brand promo in a K-drama.

Jjimjilbang 

This is a Korean bathhouse. Characters go there to relax, wearing matching sets provided by the establishment. Fights or love at first sight usually start here. 

Ajusshi 

This is how Koreans refer to older men. These characters are usually ill-tempered or very nice and wise. No inbetween.

Yeobo  

This is the Korean version of “Honey”, the popular married couple endearment.

Hanbok 

This is the traditional Korean clothing often seen in historical K-dramas.

Geunyang

This means “Just because”. Sometimes, things happen just because, and you don’t want to have to explain it, so you say, “Geunyang”. Mostly used by K-drama mums when their pissed with their kids.

Aigoo 

Characters use this to express regret, disappointment or annoyance. It translates to “Oh my goodness”.

Pabo

You know how we call foolish people “Ode”? Well this is the Korean equivalent.

Daebak 

This is basically the Korean version of “Ehen”. Depending on your tone, it can be an exclamation of excitement, amazement or disbelief. 

PaliPali  

This just means “hurry up”. Especially when the character in question is being rushed so all their books can fall out of their bag just so they can meet the love of their life.

Melo  

Short for “melodrama”. When K-drama fans watch a really emotional drama, they refer to it as a melo.

Umbrella scene 

It’s not a romantic K-drama without the scene where the male lead protects the female lead from the rain by giving her his umbrella. Bonus point if it’s yellow.

Healing drama

A drama that brings you so much comfort you just know you’ll end up rewatching it for years to come. A lot of 2022 dramas had that energy.

“Fighting!” 

Usually pronounced “Hwiting!” This is how characters encourage each other. It can mean “I believe in you” or “You can do this”. It’s always so emotional to hear them say this.  

I’m stuck with you

You’ll never be stuck with me IJN. Please, when it’s not like we’re twins. If somebody richer than you comes around, we will become unstuck. Don’t worry. 

Your body is a temple, and I want to worship you

When there’s an RCCG branch one minute away from your house? Your priorities aren’t straight, I see. 

I can’t live without you

Please, try harder. How were you living before we met? Does your mother know you’re telling people things like this? Does Jesus know?

Eat for me

Or what? Will you faint? I don’t understand, do you live in my stomach? Answer me fast. 

Let me take care of you

I can take care of myself, please. Do I give broke vibes because why did you think it was okay to say that?

You’re the apple of my eye

I’ve never seen an apple inside any eye before o. Quite frankly, if you have an apple in your eye you should see an optician. 

I want to marry you

No Jide, you just met me. You don’t want to marry me, you just have mummy issues. 

I want to put a baby in you

This is a threat and should be reported to the nearest police. Where will you find the baby? Are you into kidnapping? Double arrest. 

I want to eat you work

Eh? Cannibalism? EFCC, INEC, NAFDAC, arrest this person, please. Maybe if you had actual work to do, you won’t be looking for work to eat. 

I love you 

 We don’t have proof yet, but love is a chemical imbalance of the brain. Somebody doesn’t text you for one second and you can’t eat? Is that one normal? Abeg, talk another thing. Have you tried finding a hobby? It gives the same dopamine , I promise. 

I’m a person of many names. Some know me as Sasha, Nosa, Saz or Zemi/Zemee, and I might add another one to spice things up a bit. But I haven’t really thought it through yet. I’m a filmmaker, writer, digital collager, photographer, explorer and lover of food and films.

Do you have a favourite film?

Oh, I do. The first ones that come to mind are anything by Celine Sciamma. She’s a French filmmaker. She made Portrait of a Lady on Fire, Tom Boy and Girlhood. I like Persona by Ingmar Bergman, one of my newer favourite movies. I love Jennifer’s Body and Kajillionaire.

Dying because I only know three of those. How did you fall in love with films?

I was surrounded by books because my mum loved reading. She was an English professor. We were also surrounded by movies in the same way. My siblings and I were also raised by an older relative, and she liked films. We used to go across the street to rent them. I remember borrowing Little Mermaid, Sound of Music and many others. 

Films became an escape for me, and I think, for my siblings too. Because we moved around a lot, it became our one constant thing. Wherever you go, you see the same thing on TV. It was nice to have that locus of control. My siblings and I used to critique movies a lot. We’d talk about how their accents were too forced, things they could’ve done differently and all. But I didn’t really know it was something I’d make. There was even a time I wanted to be an actress, something I’m still hoping to explore in the future. 

I saw your cameo in your movie, Ixora. Was that your acting debut?

That wasn’t supposed to happen. We needed more extras, and my co-director, Nengi, was like, “Go in there, Saz.” My best friend, Lotanna, gave me clothes, and I was just like, “You know what? Maybe it’s meant to be”. I did a little dancing in the club scene. And that was it.

Did you study something related to what you’re doing now?

I studied sociology in school, and I was planning to be a lawyer. I honestly think everything I’ve studied and experienced helps me to be a filmmaker. Sometimes when I go through certain things, I’m like, you know what? It’s good for the cinematic experience. So yeah, sociology helped me understand how human beings create structures, what these structures mean to them, how it affects them, and how they control the structures. And with film, it’s kind of the same thing, because you are trying to replicate different structures, and just experimenting with what these structures can do. It was definitely helpful. 

What was your first moviemaking experience like? 

My first film was for a cultural club I was part of in university. I was the communications coordinator, and we needed to promote an event. So I decided to make a series of three short films. It didn’t require money. It was just my phone, my friends and then uploading on social media. 

The first planned film I made and released is Anwuli, which means “joy”. That was when I really started to realise that making films is not a solitary experience. You need to reach out to people and push boundaries. I used to do everything myself: record, direct, sound. But then I just realised I needed other people. Someone showed me how I could connect with people on Facebook. 

For instance, a director wants to make a movie but doesn’t know how to write, and a writer doesn’t know how to direct but wants to be involved in making movies. Everybody just tries to work together to create something and grow their careers. It’s a community of people who just want to create work with little to no money involved. So the budget for my first film was maybe $300. I was working a 9-5 around that time. I just asked my friends to act, and I worked with a community of people just looking to make work. 

Afterwards, I was like, “I had to pay people”, so I decided to increase my budget a bit. The more I create things, the more I realise filmmaking is very expensive. Financing is the hardest part of filmmaking. 

In Ixora’s end credits, I noticed you were the writer, co-director and co-producer. Was it exhausting?

I like writing. I like being able to bring to life the vision I have when I’m writing, so directing comes naturally. While I’m writing, I’m already thinking about who would fit which role. Even if it’s hard, I don’t consider giving up filmmaking. It doesn’t feel like it’s taking anything away from me. It feels like an extension of me. 

You’re a writer who likes to write? Wow 

Of all three — writing, producing and directing — writing can be the hardest. I’ve come to understand my process, so that makes it look easy. I can do it, but it’s not easy. When someone hears you’re a writer, they feel you can just wake up one morning and write a book. I wish I could do that. But it requires a process. And the process is not just writing; it’s everything from experience to reading to watching things. Playing is part of the process. All of them are the ingredients that produce writing. 

Does writing your own movies make it easy for you to bring your vision to life? 

Definitely. I’ve directed other people’s work before, and it’s harder because you’re not in that person’s head. Yet when I produce what I direct and wrote, it doesn’t come out 100% the way I want it because I still have actors who can bring a different (sometimes better) vision. 

This happened in Ixora. I had a vision of what I wanted out of the characters, but our main character, played by Dafna, brought a different quality to Izi’s character. It felt like she was reintroducing me to this character I made up. So yes, it’s easier to direct my own work, but it doesn’t necessarily mean my vision will come out the way I want it. It’s like, this is what you want, but keep an open mind that I might come out differently, better even.

How many films have you created so far?

I’d say roughly 10, including music videos. I’m still writing new ones and some are in production.  

Do you have any favourites?

My first film, Anwuli, is a fave. It’s so beautiful. The production process was easy. The only thing I don’t like about it is the sound quality. I wish the volume was a bit lower, and some of the audio parts were crisper. But I love the music. It was an original composition by a Ukrainian composer I met online — Myroslav Melymuk. 

Carmilla is another favourite. It was just a fun thing to make. Another one I really like is Baby, This Is How You Break Open. When I feel down sometimes, I go back to watch it. If I want to process an experience or emotion, an efficient way for me to do it is to make a film. 

Oh, it shows. Ixora had me in my feelings. What was the process like?

It was shot in two days, but it was supposed to be three. If you come with that “It will work” mentality, sometimes, it means giving yourself extra room for surplus. If we had another day, there was a scene I wish we could’ve added, but we were constricted for time. 

My friend wanted us to make a film, so I brought a draft, but they did not feel it. It wasn’t clear enough. I wrote another one two months later, based on a conversation I had with myself about women’s bodies and how they present them. I wanted answers, and somehow, I translated this dialogue into characters That was it. 

The next thing was casting. I already knew who would play the two main characters. Next was financing. We tried to apply for grants. But we didn’t get any, so we put filming off for a bit. Later, we were just like, “Let’s do what we can with what we have”. Me alongside my co-proucer and friend contributed money, and everyone else was briefed on how much we were working with. We practised a lot. Shout out to everybody for putting in the work.  

And are you getting paid to make films yet?

I’m getting paid now.

When I made Ixora, I wasn’t. Baby, This is How You Break Open costs zero naira to make. We didn’t spend much on Carmilla. We had to pay for a ₦3k location and bought a few costumes like the dress and scarf — it only had one character after all. I think we spent under ₦5k. Although we paid to host it on a website at one time, but it wasn’t expensive. Ixora is the most expensive movie my friends and I funded. I don’t remember how much it was. 

How much are your movies making now?

They haven’t made any money yet. When Ixora gets on a streaming platform, the team will benefit. But for now, it hasn’t made money. That’s another misconception people have about filmmakers. They assume you’re balling. Depending on your background, filmmaking requires a lot of work that might not be financially reciprocated, and you have to be patient with that.

Do you think you’ll ever do a mainstream movie?

Yes, it’s something I’d like to do. I’m working on two documentaries now. I’ve written romance and done music videos. I’m openminded when it comes to filmmaking and storytelling. The content interests me even more than the genre.

You’ve mentioned a French director. Are there other people or things that influence you?

Life itself influences me a lot. I’ve had a lot of interesting experiences, and that alone makes creating fun and easier. I like exploring films in different genres because they open my mind to questions I want to answer, and I can answer them in my own work. One of my latest unreleased films is a response to Persona by Ingmar Bergman. I’m influenced by music, quotes from poetry books, experiences, experiences, experiences. 

Most filmmakers have a signature thing they do in their movies. Do you have that yet?

According to people, yes. I like to have pidgin in my work. And I like a level of playfulness. I don’t do this intentionally, but there’s always some emotion that’s highlighted when you watch something I make, whether it’s happiness, empathy or curiosity. 

I’m not even sure I want a pattern. The films I make are a reflection of where or who I am, and people evolve. What I make will also evolve. 

What fun things do you do when you’re not busy making films in your head and in real life?

I really like to experience where I am. When I’m in Lagos, I like to experience Lagos. Recently, a friend of mine wanted to visit someone in a convent, and because I’d never been to one, I went with him. I just like to experience different aspects of life. I like eating, watching films and digital collaging — putting together fragments of images to create something different.

Are there some skills you feel filmmakers and writers should have to be able to create quality work?

Emotional intelligence is very important. Being able to tell a story in a way that’s respectful to characters and the people they represent. Patience is important, but a lack of patience is also important. It’s okay to wait for something, but sometimes, you have to actively go after it too. For methods? I’m not a stickler. I enjoy seeing different methods at work. Compatibility is also important in filmmaking. 

You make the process sound like smooth sailing. Have you never had a clash with people you work with?

I haven’t had issues on set. Communication is important. As sets get bigger, you get to deal with more complications. You just have to figure it out. It’s good to work with people you’re compatible with on set.

Do you have any favourite career moments so far?

I like hearing people tell me they like my work, explaining perspectives even I who wrote it never saw. The story has gone beyond me. It’s out there, and other people are sharing it. In terms of milestones, it was nice to have Ixora and Carmilla show at S16, and just see people connect with it and talk about it. It was nice to see everybody involved getting celebrated. Having my films shown at several festivals last year was nice. 

Are there projects you’re working on that we should be expecting?

The next project I’ll release is an experimental film. Beside that, I made a music video for an artist, it’ll be out soon. Longterm, I want to make feature films. I’d love to work with Celine Sciamma, Love and Basketball star, Sanaa Lathan, and Genevieve Nnaji. There are some people I  want to work with but I also don’t want to work with them because I just want to watch them. In a way that I appreciate filmmakers’ capacity to create and my ability to experience their creations.

At some point, my goal was to create films with an optimistic narrative for queer people, and I still want to do that, but I also want to tell stories that experiment with what can be. This involves a level of absurdism. I want to continue to create things that make people feel something. 

Have you watched any film and wished you were the one who made it?

Love and Basketball I was 13 or 14 when I watched it. I still think with film it’s not impossible. I don’t think it’s an industry where you can only wish you could create something. You always have the space to do that. I can decide to make a film based on Love and Basketball. My character could be queer and find love. I’m not sure if what she had with Quincy was love or not; I would explore her relationship with Gabrielle Union’s character or Sidra instead of him.

I’d have liked to make Nneka, the Pretty Serpent and Suicide Mission. I’d have made them more playful but scary still. 

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