Only In Africa
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- Votos 22
- Capítulos 6
Em andamento10m
Última atualização sex, jun 19, 2020
Do you know it's only in Africa where parents remove their spectacles to hear exactly what you're saying?
~
This will be a sort of diary thingie magie that I can write in. Get ready for rants, some tears (from me not from you lol) and a bit of humour.
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#4 in tas #1 in Abeokuta Dedicated to all Africans who are depressed and suffer PTSD. How exactly do you explain to an African parent that you need help? Do Africans even care about the state of their mental health? How do I tell others how I feel or about my nightmares without them thinking I'm mentally unstable? Everywhere, "seek help." How exactly? All these questions bother me so much that they give me problems. Even if he agrees that I need help, everyone would see me as a psychiatric patient, as the mentally unstable girl. "I keep blaming myself for all that has happened. I mean, how could I not have seen it coming? She was practically my best friend and close to me. If only I had opened my eyes wide enough and looked closer, I would have known and probably done something. We had a fight, we didn't settle it. Before I knew it, she was gone. It upsets me more. This has been haunting me for over a year. Can I ever be normal?" #39 in stereotype #62 in insomnia #82 in singleparent #568 in nightmares #72 in African #2 in tcs #16 in secondaryschool #111 in Nigerian #28 in Yoruba #7 in middleclass On 19 September, 2020Concluída
'19' Last Days Of Being a Teenager |Memoir
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Golden Hours {Short Stories} 18+
This is a collection of sexual stories in which most of them are weird as fuck but they also turn me on. So please, bear with me. ENJOY! Top Ranks ~ #1 West Africa 3/02/25 #1 Sexual Stories 1/03/25 #1 White Guys 23/05/25 #1 Black Guys 23/05/25 🍑✨
The American (BWWM)
"What?" Ethan says in his all too familiar deep, rude voice. Ethan has pitch-black hair, is 6 feet tall, with a solid build. His deep grey eyes are glaring at me right now. His jawline is so sharp I'm sure it can cut through anything. "You hit me, spilling my coffee all over me," I say, pointing out the obvious. "So, what do you want me to do about it?" he asks, like he's done nothing wrong. "You're supposed to say sorry," I say in a duh tone. "And why should I?" "Because that's what people with manners do." "I know that, but you don't deserve a sorry from me." "Wow. And why is that?" "Because black bitches like you don't deserve it," he says with a sneer. "I have told you times without number to stop calling me that," I say, angry at his insults. "Make me," Ethan says, taking a dangerous step closer. I don't say anything but hiss and walk past him. I don't know why I expected him to apologize. It's Ethan, after all. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ethan is a young male about to get his first degree, he might look normal to the world, but don't we all have our demons inside. Ethan has a problem that he feels hatred is the best way to cure it, but one lady proves him wrong. Adina is a beautiful young girl who is also about to get her first degree at the same university as Ethan. Adina is full of life and dislikes anyone who thinks they can bully her. Ethan is hell-bent on bringing hell down on Adina, and she is determined to shove it up all the way into his ass. They are both opposites, but they say opposites attract one other. What happens when a significant incident changes all that. How do these two different people deal with a feeling that is supposed to be forbidden to feel for each other?Concluída
𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬
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Behind My Walls✔️
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My Dance Dream
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MAD WOMAN
My sister has always attracted the wrong crowd who didn't hesitate to take advantage of her meek heart. Right from small, Zikora's naïvety always made me fight with every single one of her 'friends'. I have never been comfortable with any of her so-called friendships. Not even the one she was in at the moment with her new roommate. Funny enough was that I actually liked their relationship. It was pure, true, and more of a sisterhood. For the first time in history, Zikora made a true friend. I inwardly approved of the friendship, when the girl in question, didn't think twice in lunging a frying pan at my little sister's ex-boyfriend. And I know as you're reading this, you may ask yourself, what was my issue then? My issue wasn't with the friendship, but the babe herself. Her appearance reminded me of that Disney princess that had the complexion of a vampire. Snow White, very innocent looking creature. But that girl was the definition of a werey in disguise. Chineke ekwela! And I know you've already started judging me as the problematic character already. I am not problematic, she is. You may begin to think that okay I'm probably overreacting. Oga, Aunty, I am not overreacting. On the first day of meeting her, this babe carried her old fashioned okrika shoe that looked like it suffered for nineteen years, and threw it at the glass of my car while I was driving. Aunty, ha si na hel zipụ gị, ma-ọbụ site n'oké ọhịa ọjọọ dị n'obodo m? {did they send you from hell, or from the evil forest in my village?} That one is her business sha. She should just carry her small bum bum and stay on her own, because she's really getting on my nerves. I don't blame her, because she knows she's fine. That's why she's doing all this bullshit. But all that I know is using the word 'mad' in a sentence, I would say; Biboere Mirabel Madagascar is a MAD WOMAN. Come and fight me.Concluída
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Boys like you ||Completed||✓
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#4 in tas #1 in Abeokuta Dedicated to all Africans who are depressed and suffer PTSD. How exactly do you explain to an African parent that you need help? Do Africans even care about the state of their mental health? How do I tell others how I feel or about my nightmares without them thinking I'm mentally unstable? Everywhere, "seek help." How exactly? All these questions bother me so much that they give me problems. Even if he agrees that I need help, everyone would see me as a psychiatric patient, as the mentally unstable girl. "I keep blaming myself for all that has happened. I mean, how could I not have seen it coming? She was practically my best friend and close to me. If only I had opened my eyes wide enough and looked closer, I would have known and probably done something. We had a fight, we didn't settle it. Before I knew it, she was gone. It upsets me more. This has been haunting me for over a year. Can I ever be normal?" #39 in stereotype #62 in insomnia #82 in singleparent #568 in nightmares #72 in African #2 in tcs #16 in secondaryschool #111 in Nigerian #28 in Yoruba #7 in middleclass On 19 September, 2020
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