

Nabila Aguele is the Chief Executive, Nigeria at the Malala Fund. Her career began with law, then evolved into governance and policy before eventually leading the Malala Fund in Nigeria. You might wonder what shaped these transitions. According to Aguele, the decisions were rooted in active reflection on where she was, an internal pulse check to determine whether she felt that the work she was doing was helping her develop the skills she needed to have an impact and truly show up in ways that she does. In each moment, she has been able to carry forward all that she has learned—the connections, the skills acquired— and she has been able to apply those skill sets in new ways in each season. For Aguele, there is no typical day at the Mala Fund, and she loves the variety. She thrives on work that is dynamic and multifaceted, and allows her to show up both internally and externally.
There’s much more to Nabila Aguele and the Malala Fund in Nigeria. Scroll to pages 8-10 to read about it.
If you are new to metallics, you should know that they are no longer reserved for parties or red carpets; they’ve found their way into everyday fashion. From subtle accessories to bold statement pieces, metallics can instantly make any outfit look polished and modern. Our fashion pages show you just how to achieve this. Check out pages 4 and 5 for this.
Luxury silk is featured on page 12 this week, and it discusses ageing as a woman. From the sudden weight gain, especially in the middle section, to strange itches, this one is for the ladies. I urge you to read it; you’ll probably be able to relate to most of it.
@onahluciaa + 2348033239132
Aguele’s Journey of Advocacy
AUSTYN OGANNAH
PUBLISHER/EDITOR-IN-CHIEF
Writer: Johnson Chukwueke
Until next week, enjoy your read. www.thewilldowntown.com
Executive Editor: Onah Nwachukwu @onahluciaa
Design & Layout: Olaniyan John ‘Blake’
Digital Media: Oladimeji Balogun
Consulting Art Director: Sunny Hughes ‘SunZA’
Boluwatife Adesina @bolugramm
- Contributing Writer
Boluwatife Adesina is a media writer and the helmer of the Downtown Review page. He’s probably in a cinema near you.
Dorcas Akintoye @mila_dfa_ - Contributing Writer
Dorcas Akintoye is a dedicated writer with more than 2 years prolific experience in writing articles ranging from food, entertainment, fashion and beauty. She has a National Diploma in Mass Communication from Kwara State Polytechnic, Ilorin. She loves writing, listening to music and playing scrabble. She is a highly-skilled, enthusiastic, selfmotivated professional writer.
Sally Chiwuzie @unshakable.is.a.state.of.mind
- Contributing Writer
Sally Chiwuzie is a non-practising barrister who owns the brand #Unshakable. She is the author of Silent Symphonies, a fictional love story, and the creator of the podcast Chronicles of #Unshakable Truths.
Ada Obiajunwa @aaddaahh
- Contributing Writer
Ada Obiajunwa writes from Lagos about the big truths tucked inside ordinary moments — friendship, self-discovery, and the quiet revolutions of everyday life. She believes in the power of presence, good banter, and decoding the unsaid. Through her fragrance studio, WhiffWonders, she also crafts scents that weave memory and emotion into experiences that feel like home.
START WITH METALLIC ACCESSORIES
If you’re new to metallics, accessories are the safest place to start. A simple gold belt, silver handbag, or bronze earrings can instantly upgrade your outfit. Pair a metallic clutch with a simple black dress for dinner or add gold hoop earrings to a casual jeans-and-top combo for a chic look. Accessories let you enjoy metallics without committing to a complete outfit.
BY DORCAS AKINTOYE
etallics are no longer reserved for parties or red carpets; they’ve found their way into everyday fashion. From subtle accessories to bold statement pieces, metallics can instantly make any outfit look polished and modern—the secret lies in knowing how to style them without looking overdone.
Metallic shoes are surprisingly versatile. Gold block heels work perfectly for weddings or office parties, silver flats can dress up a casual Ankara outfit, and metallic sneakers add an edgy vibe to your weekend jeans look. They’re also easy to pair with almost any colour, making them a smart investment for your wardrobe.
A bold metallic piece, such as a silver skirt, a gold blazer, or a shiny top, can turn heads without looking tacky, if styled well. The key is balance. Pair a gold skirt with a plain white blouse and neutral sandals, or wear a silver blazer over an all-black outfit. Keeping the rest of your look simple lets the metallic piece shine beautifully.
If you prefer subtle metallictouches,makeup and nail polish are perfect. A soft gold eyeshadow or a silver shimmer on your nails can add a modern twist to your look without being overwhelming. It’s also a fun way to try metallics for casual hangouts, dinner dates, or even office- friendly looks.
Metallics don’t always have to feel “extra.” Pair a shiny metallic tank top with mom jeans and strappy sandals for brunch, or throw on a gold kimono over a plain dress for a casual outing. Mixing metallic pieces with laid-back staples keeps your style balanced and wearable for everyday life in Nigeria.
For fashion lovers who like to make a statement, try layering metallics. You could pair a bronze skirt with gold accessories or mix silver earrings with a shiny clutch. The trick is to keep the rest of your outfit neutral so your metallic pieces don’t clash.
are all about balance. Pick one or two elements to highlight, and let the rest of your outfit stay simple. That way, you look stylish and confident.
SALLY CHIWUZIE @unshakable.is.a.state.of.mind
Modern dating has become a performance. There are rules now, carefully whispered through group chats, podcasts, and Instagram reels: Don’t text back too quickly. Don’t appear too eager. Wait until at least the third or fourth date before sex. Pretend you’re busy even if you’re not. Follow the script. We’ve turned romance into theatre, where timing and tactics matter more than authenticity. A friend once described today’s dating market as “sparse and untidy.” Another scoffed, “No — it’s worse. What’s left is sewage.” It was crude, but I understood. For every beautiful story of modern love, there are dozens more of heartbreak, deception, or disappointment. And yet, the irony is this: even when you follow the script to the letter, the outcome is still unpredictable.
Take two couples I know. The first met online. Their chemistry was instant — electric. They broke all the rules. Within days, they were in bed together, laughing at the idea that they were moving too fast. Six months later, they were married. Years on, they’re still happy. Their love story reads like a fairy tale, proof that sometimes breaking the script leads you straight to the truth.
The second couple did the exact opposite. They waited. They nurtured a friendship into romance, slowly, carefully, respectfully. They didn’t rush intimacy. They ticked every box the script demands — and yes, they got married. But within a year, it was over. Their story ended in bitter divorce, a reminder that sometimes the “rules” are nothing more than illusions of control.
It’s comforting, but it’s not always true. Because human beings are not predictable algorithms. We are messy, emotional, contradictory creatures. What makes one couple thrive might destroy another. What feels desperate to one person feels refreshing to someone else. What looks like rushing in might, in truth, be simply recognising destiny when it shows up.
And yet, dismissing the scripts entirely feels reckless. Boundaries, after all, exist for a reason. We know that relationships rushed purely by lust often collapse under the weight of reality. We know that caution can save us from pain. But boundaries alone are not guarantees of love — they are scaffolding. Without the substance of compatibility, respect, and shared vision, the building falls anyway.
Maybe the real untold truth is this: love has never been about perfect scripts. It has always been about imperfect people taking risks. Every relationship is a gamble of time and chance. You can nurture a seed for years, and it still may not grow. Or you can scatter one wildly, and it may bloom instantly.
And there are countless variations in between. Some couples swear by patience and boundaries. Others fall quickly, burn brightly, and last forever. Still others crumble, no matter how carefully they followed the path society laid out for them.
So what do we do with this paradox? Does love in the time of scripts actually work?
I wonder if the real issue is that we cling to scripts because we fear the chaos of chance. To believe in love as a lottery feels terrifying. Scripts give us the illusion of order — like if we wait three hours to text back, or refuse intimacy before date five, we can control whether someone will truly love us.
In the end, maybe it comes down to something larger than us — the special grace of God, if you believe in that. Because how else do you explain why some couples, against all odds, make it work, while others, with every resource and every rule in their favour, fall apart?
Perhaps the scripts are not the problem. Perhaps our obsession with them is. We want guarantees where there are none. We want rules where there is only risk. We want certainty in a game that has always been defined by mystery.
So is love in the time of scripts possible? Yes, sometimes. But it’s equally true that love beyond the scripts can be just as real. The real question is not whether you followed the rules — it’s whether you found someone whose chaos matches yours. And maybe, just maybe, the most #Unshakable truth is this: love has never belonged to scripts. It belongs to chance, to choice, and to the courage of two people willing to keep showing up, rules or no rules.
‘See’ you next week.
Over the years, the movement for women’s empowerment has grown stronger, breaking down walls that once silenced the voices of young girls. From grassroots campaigns in local communities to global initiatives, more platforms are giving women and girls the tools, resources, and confidence they need to take their place in society. These efforts are not just about education; they are about creating opportunities, opening doors, and ensuring that every girl knows that her voice matters and her dreams are valid.
At the heart of this change in Nigeria is Nabila Aguele. With a career that began in law and evolved into governance, policy, and now leadership, she has leveraged every stage of her journey to create a lasting impact. Today, as the Chief Executive, Nigeria at the Malala Fund, she is driving strategies that break barriers for girls’ education and push for gender equality. Through her intentional work, from policy advocacy to community-focused initiatives, Nabila is helping build a future where every girl can learn, lead, and thrive. Her passion for change and her ability to turn vision into action have made her a force in the fight for inclusivity and opportunity.
In this interview with THEWILL DOWNTOWN’s Dorcas Akintoye, Nabila Aguele discusses her inspiring journey, the power of advocacy, and her mission to create lasting change for girls across Nigeria. She opens up about her work with the Malala Fund, the challenges and opportunities in advancing girls’ education, and why empowering the next generation of women is the key to transforming society.
You’ve had a diverse career, starting in law, moving into governance and policy, and now leading the Malala Fund in Nigeria. What moments or decisions shaped these transitions, and what has kept you grounded through these changes?
I would say that for each transition, the decisions were really rooted from active reflection on where I was, internal pulse check around, did I feel like the work that I was doing really was helping me develop the skills that I needed to have impact and really show up in ways that I now. So, for example, I see each in my career rather than sort of a career pivot, but a season in an overall journey. And in each moment, I’ve been able to carry forward all that I’ve learned—the connections, the skills learned, and I’ve been able to apply those skill sets in new ways in each season. My first pivot actually, or my first transition, I would say, was actually from science to law. So my undergraduate degree and my focus at the time was around the biological science BSc in human biology and informally pre-med. And as I went through that experience, it just became very clear to me that I was drawn more so to social and ethical at the time, I didn’t know what to call it, but I guess in hindsight, it’s development, it’s impact, it’s policy, it’s how regulatory systems drive change for people. And so at that time, I transitioned out of the sciences and decided to go to law instead. And once I entered the legal space, again, for me, it was about actively learning, growing, leaning into things that I enjoyed while being somewhat strategic, but more so looking for opportunities that felt aligned. And, you know, following my graduation, I pursued patent litigation and ultimately was invited back as a law professor at my alma mater, the American University Washington College of Law, where I was able to teach upper level law students and also co-run the intellectual property law clinic, which is part of the school’s network of highly ranked internal nonprofit law firms, basically, where students represent real clients in cases and in initiatives that drive change. So I kind of found myself in that role very serendipitously. I didn’t actively pursue it. I would say the roles I actively pursued were my initial roles out of law school. But this opportunity came to me organically out of work that I had been doing. And, you know, as I was getting ready to be considered for full-time opportunities as a law professor, because I was doing this practitioner and residency fellowship, I just couldn’t shake this pull, this nudge to really be leaning into issues around Africa, Nigeria. And it also became clear to me at the time that my interest in terms of how I showed up professionally extended beyond core law practice or law teaching. So, I had to make a really difficult decision around would I stay on this path that was more or less guaranteed for me, and a path that I had realised much earlier in my career than I would have thought. I mean, at that point, I was in my early 30s or would I sort of leave it and, maybe try a new path with risk, etc, attached. And I ultimately decided that, if I’m going to have to go on the teaching market anyway, for positions, I may as well be brave and be bold, and try the things that so many people at the time were telling me, maybe this isn’t the best time for this, you should focus, you should lean in. So your academic career, why would you give this up so many people aspire to this. At that stage, that was sort of the biggest of the transitions, I would say, because at that
“My first pivot actually, or my first transition, I would say, was actually from science to law. So my undergraduate degree and my focus at the time was around the biological science BSc in human biology and informally pre-med. ”
point, I had built a career already, I’d been in law practice and teaching combined for about eight years. But I just couldn’t shake this feeling that if I stayed on this path, and I became more focused in patent litigation and in academia, I would miss an important opportunity to explore this question about what it felt like to have a professional career that matched my personal experience of being a global citizen, of being someone who for whom human impact and social issues were central to the work that they do and somebody who drove change at the intersection of different disciplines and sectors, rather than being sort of a core sector specialist. So that sort of self-reflection and consultation process took several years. It wasn’t like an overnight thing. And it ultimately led me to apply to business school as a pathway to move home. Anyone who’s done career transitions knows that the act of transitioning is grounding in and of itself. It’s very humbling. People will ask you, “Are you okay?” “Are you sure?” “Why would you throw away, everything that you’ve done to rebuild from scratch?”, “There’s so much uncertainty”, etc. But I think for me, what has kept me grounded is really that consultative and that active reflective process to really make sure I’m transitioning for the right reason. I think also what keeps me grounded is recognising that inasmuch as there isn’t certainty around where the transition will lead you. For example, when I went to business school, I did not know at the time that I would definitely become a special advisor in the federal government, I thought maybe I would transition into the private sector in Nigeria, and had sort of begun prepping with that in mind. But over the course of the experience, and the year I spent subsequently, it was very clear to me that that was not where I fit. And that an opportunity advising in government would really allow me to show up in that sort of intersectional integrated way that I really wanted to. So, I think for me, it’s about sort of being open to shifts as the journey unfolds, being open to changing your mind or shifting your assumptions about where you should be and why you should be doing it. And being highly consultative, but then always checking in with sort of what my goals are and my objectives, because people give advice, but everyone’s advice is based on their own perspective. So many were like, why would you come to Nigeria and not practice law, you should come and you should go to law school, that should be where you focus. And I knew that for me, that was not the right path, even though it was the most obvious choice. And I chose instead to get an MBA and to not practice law in Nigeria, because I realised that for me, impact was more of what I craved rather than sort of continuing a career in law practice.
As Chief Executive, Nigeria at the Malala Fund, what does a typical day look like for you, and what aspects of your role excite you the most?
“I thought maybe I would transition into the private sector in Nigeria, and had sort of begun prepping with that in mind. But over the course of the experience, and the year I spent subsequently, it was very clear to me that that was not where I fit. ”
There is no typical day. And honestly, I love that variety. I’m somebody who really thrives in work that is dynamic and multifaceted and allows me to show up both internally and externally. As you may know, I’m the Chief Executive in Nigeria. My core mandate is driving and leading our overall country framework, which includes grant-making. So, we grant-make to local organisations. And I also lead a team that does advocacy with policymakers and community stakeholders and nonpolicy stakeholders in furtherance of our ultimate goal, which is to ensure that girls are able to access and complete secondary school. With that in mind, some days, we are engaging with policymakers, whether it’s at the federal level or at the state level. Other days, for example, we are engaging with traditional rulers. In June, our co-founder Ziauddin Yousafzai, Malala’s dad led a delegation of us to meet with his eminence, the Sultan of Sokoto, to talk about his role as a champion around girls’ education, and to discuss how we could collaborate towards advancing male allyship and furtherance of girls’ education. Other days, you know, I’m looking internally, I’m working with the team to build out our focus, our advocacy focus areas, doing desk research. Some days I’m speaking at events or engaging with broader ecosystem players. And then also, collaborating with peers and sector partners and organisations, both nationally and globally to drive change. Because we believe very deeply in the power and the necessity of collective action. I think what excites me the most is the time that we spend working and supporting our education champion network. That’s what we call our grantee partners, not only in Nigeria, but across the world. And for me, it just really speaks to the dynamism of our CSO, nonprofit and social enterprise organisations in Nigeria, most of which are led by young people. And we have a great and growing portfolio of young women-led organisations that are driving change in the education sector. So, for me, any time I get to spend with them, learning about the work that they’re doing, thinking about with our team, how we can amplify our shared advocacy goals and watching them in action. For me, that’s really powerful. Also, for us, the voice of girls is critical. So, for example, last year, we organised an event for International Day of the Girl that was centred around the powerful voice of girls to speak about what their needs are with respect to education and what their challenges are. And what was so powerful about that event was that they were at the centre. They led most of the programming with stories, with calls to action, as panelists speaking alongside established, much more senior colleagues from government and development partners. And just to see and experience the power of their voice and conviction, I can never get tired of that. And for me, being able to demonstrate and to remind people that our young girls have a voice and have a clear vision for themselves. They do want to go to school and they know what their needs are. And also our CSOs, our nonprofits are expert innovators and advocates around these issues. For me, that’s especially exciting. And just to give you an example, you know, in Adamawa State, for example, one of our partners, which is called CATAI. CATAI stands for Center for Advocacy, Transparency and Accountability. They worked with the state government in Adamawa to develop the state’s first-ever education policy, which was gender responsive and had specific provisions around girls’ education. And it really speaks to the power of what happens when local organisations are funded and empowered to drive policy change.
The Malala Fund is known for its impactful advocacy for girls’ education. What unique challenges and opportunities do you see in implementing this mission in Nigeria?
So I think in terms of challenges, the main challenge, and we know this, is the scale of the problem. First of all, the scale of the general out-ofschool problem, but also the specific scale of numbers for out-of-school girls. So, for example, according to the most recent data, Nigeria as at the basic education level, so we’re talking primary to junior secondary, 7.6 million girls are out of school. We know that approximately only 9% of the girls from lower-income families are able to reach secondary school compared to 81% of those from higher-income, richer families. And we know that in Nigeria, multidimensional poverty and poverty broadly is a huge issue. There are so many barriers to education that include insecurity, poverty, norms, social norms that keep girls out of school. There are systematic barriers, including chronic underfunding in the education sector and in human capital more broadly. And even where there is money, that money is not spent efficiently. And it is not planned for in a way that is community and girl-centered. So, our planning systems lack gender responsiveness. There’s been some progress, right, both at federal and state, but by and large, there continues to be poor alignment between the outcomes that we want to see and the ways in which education sector plans are put together and executed. Child marriage and adolescent pregnancy continue to be a huge problem in Nigeria. And it’s why we at Malala Fund are focusing on the right to education for girls impacted by child marriage and adolescent pregnancy. Overall, nationally, over 30% of girls are married under 18. In the Northeast and the Northwest, that jumps to over 50%, with some states having child marriage numbers under the age of 18 being above 70%. This is according to the most recent NICS report conducted by
NBS and UNICEF. So, these barriers, the lack of a coordinated, sustainable system, policy system, and the lack of really robust, holistic policies that are implemented efficiently and that speak to the needs and the voices of girls is a huge issue. Even with that, the opportunities are big as well. I mentioned earlier our young and dynamic civil society and nonprofit ecosystem. Increasingly, young women-led organisations as well. These organisations are driving innovation particularly at the state level. Many of them are supporting international organisations, multilaterals, with implementing and advocacy at the state level, even for some of our larger funded initiatives. And at Malala Fund, our sole model is to fund, partner, and advocate alongside these members of this dynamic civil society that includes organisations that are driving for increased education funding and better quality spend, as well as pushing for the right to access and complete secondary school for girls. And they’re doing this by engaging policymakers as well as community stakeholders and non-policy makers. Another opportunity is the resilience and clarity that our girls have across Nigeria. We need to listen more. We need to resource young women who are looking to start organisations to address their right to education. And we need to scale their voices, give them a seat at the table, and ensure that policymakers are listening and reflecting their needs and their expertise in whatever policy interventions we need to make. The last thing I’ll say about opportunity in terms of adolescent girls’ education specifically is that there is a fundamental right to education, which is what we’re pushing for. And that right should be preserved and addressed, irrespective of a girl’s status, right? But even beyond that, there is an economic and a development incentive to educate girls through senior secondary. Girls who are educated are better empowered financially and otherwise. They are better positioned to support and drive household income, and enter the labour market. And essentially, if your mother is not educated, you are less likely. In many places, you are unlikely to even go to school. So in order to stop the vicious cycle of out-of-school across the country, we need to address this particular set of girls and the gains, both economic from a health perspective, and from a financial inclusion perspective, are essential. And we need to pay attention to this, particularly in this moment in Nigeria, where, you know, the food crisis and the cost of living crisis is high despite recent economic reforms, and multidimensional poverty continues to be a huge issue. So there’s a huge opportunity in educating our girls,
both for them and for our broader communities and for the country as a whole.
Beyond education, where do you believe investments in women and girls could create the most transformative changes in Nigerian society?
I think we need to continue to better share and underscore the reality that investments in education count towards investments in other areas as well. I think there’s a tendency to view these investments as separate priorities, almost competing priorities at times. So you’ll hear people say sometimes, we need to invest in health. Health is where we need to focus. We need to invest in financial inclusion. That’s where we’re putting our money. So I’ll start by saying that investing in the education of adolescent girls, ensuring that they are able to finish education through senior secondary and making that a policy priority and ensuring that it has the highest leadership and political will at federal and state levels is by default integral to investing in women and girls. It’s why if you look at the Nigerian national policy on Women’s Economic Empowerment, education and skills building is a core pillar across a multisectoral set of pillars to drive economic empowerment with adolescent girls’ education being specifically called out. So I think, having that integrated approach for me is absolutely necessary. But with that in mind, investing in women’s and girls’ economic empowerment and looking at those investments as a holistic suite of investments that capture both investments in health, better health outcomes, investments in better financial inclusion, investments in digital literacy, and investments in moving women and girls up the value chain in sectors where they are the majority. So, for example, in the agriculture sector, we know the majority of people in that sector are women. However, if you examine the sector, the majority are still at the lower end of the value chain. They are not empowered, and there are no structures and processes for them to move up. So being really intentional about where women and girls sit within sector value chains, specifically value chains where they are the majority, especially, I think, is really important. I’ve mentioned financial inclusion. I think also, all of these things create better transformative change in Nigerian society because it has been demonstrated that these investments, whether it’s in women’s leadership, ensuring more women have a seat at the table, whether it’s investments in financial inclusion, health, et cetera, there are gains to be met not only for the women and the girls themselves, but for their families, their communities and for broader society. So I think understanding that it’s important to do this work because we cannot and should not leave our women and girls behind. And we candidly cannot afford it at this stage in Nigerian history. But I think also recognising that without these investments and if you look at countries, whether it’s in Africa or globally, those countries that are investing in human capital and are especially investing in women, girls and youth are the ones seeing sustainable gains in terms of development and economic outcomes and inclusive growth that is sustainable and country-driven. So for me, it is a necessary aspect of a robust approach to transforming transformation across our society.
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@aaddaahh
Oneday you’re dancing in heels, the next you’re Googling “best orthopaedic slippers for women over 40.”
Ageing doesn’t knock — it just lets itself in, wearing your old waistline like a trophy. At first, it’s cute. A laugh line here, a silver strand there. You tell yourself, “Ah, I’m just becoming distinguished.” Then one day, it stops being cute.
For me, it started with my skin. The same oily face I’d fought since boarding school suddenly woke up and declared itself the Sahara. Moisturiser? Gone faster than salary on the 28th. Vanished. Serum? Absorbed like rent money. Next came the grey hair. I used to call it my “wise hair.” Cute, right? I thought it made me look like the Nollywood aunty in a wrapper who gives life-changing advice. But these greys? They started itching. And there I was, in board meetings, scratching my head like a goat with secrets.
Just when I adjusted, my eyes betrayed me. Now, for context — I’ve worn glasses since I was 10. Contacts since 18. I know my eyes. We’ve been through things together. So imagine my shock when I popped in my lenses one morning and… blur. Fuzz. Like life had been shot on a 2003 Nokia camera.
I cleaned them. Nothing. Cleaned again, this time with the seriousness of a surgeon — still nothing. By now, I was squinting so hard I looked like someone pretending to understand a French menu in dim light.
That’s when it hit me: Gaddemit, I am middle-aged.
Not only did I need my contacts, but I also now needed reading glasses.
But the real curveball? The mood. No one tells you that when estrogen packs its bags, it doesn’t go quietly. It takes your emotional stability with it. One minute, you’re fine. The next, you’re staring into space like you’re waiting for a plot twist in your own life.
Nothing happened. Nobody insulted me. Nobody stole my money.
Yet there I was — sad, restless, and on some days, angry… like my emotions were being DJ’d by someone with no playlist.
Just vibes and chaos. And the body? Oh, she joined the comedy too. Parts of me I didn’t even know had nerve endings started aching. Why should the middle of my foot itch? Not the side. Not the heel. Dead centre. Do you know how hard it is to scratch that part of your foot in public? You end up twisting under your chair like you’re battling invisible enemies.
And then — the belly. This damn thing called “spread.” The more I doubled up on crunches, the bigger my stomach got. It’s like my abs said, “Oh, you want definition? Here’s inflation instead.”
I remember the days when my stomach was as flat as an ironing board. A big brother used to call me Killer Abz Now? The abz is just… an a. Singular. Soft. Confused. I used to think belly fat was a result of indulgence. Now I know it’s a hormonal prank. Estrogen leaves, cortisol enters, and suddenly your waistline starts behaving like it’s in a real estate boom. Every inch expanding like it’s trying to build duplexes. I’d lie on my yoga mat, doing bicycle crunches like a woman possessed —only to stand up and find my stomach looking like it just had puffpuff and a nap. And don’t get me started on highwaisted jeans. They used to be my secret weapon. Now they’re just a polite suggestion. My belly rolls over them like it’s queuing for jollof at a party.
Meanwhile, my mind? Still in her 20s. She’s saying: “Let’s dance till 3 a.m., let’s wear those jeans from 2009.”
But my body keeps sending memos:
To: Ada
Subject: Calm Down
Message: We are no longer that girl. Please adjust expectations.
houses and a vineyard.
Middle age has also taught me the sacred Igbo art of ịkw sị nonsense — stopping foolishness before it starts.
Less friends. Less drama. Less “yes” to people who drain you.
Na only God I dey please now.
And yet — here’s what nobody tells you — growing older isn’t just about loss. It’s about attention. I moisturise now not just to look dewy, but because I love the ritual. I dye my hair not because I must, but because I decide how I show up.
I wear reading glasses now — and honestly, they make me look like I own three publishing
Because the truth is simple: If you don’t enjoy your life, life will enjoy you. And me? I choose joy — grey hair, itchy foot, reading glasses and all. Middle age may sneak in with its spare key, but these days, I answer the door as Joy herself — moisturised, unbothered, and gloriously grey.
To: Ada
Subject: Becoming
Message: We are no longer that girl — but this version? She’s glorious.
BY DORCAS AKINTOYE
When it comes to skincare, patience is key. Many people buy creams, serums, or oils hoping for quick magic, but after weeks of use, they end up saying, “This product doesn’t work” The truth is, sometimes the problem isn’t the product itself; it’s in how we use it, what we expect, or even how our skin reacts. Let us show you five possible reasons why your products might not be working for you.
One of the most common mistakes is expecting instant results. Skincare products are not like makeup, which gives immediate results; they need time to work with your skin. For example, products for acne, hyperpigmentation, or anti-ageing may take 4–12 weeks before you see visible results. If you stop after just one or two weeks, you may never see the benefits. You need to be patient. Check product labels for how long they usually take to work, and give it at least 6–8 weeks before concluding it’s not working.
YOU
Not every product is for everyone. A moisturiser that works for oily skin might not be good for dry skin. Using a product that doesn’t suit your skin type can make your skin worse or simply show no results. For example, if you have acne-prone skin and you’re using heavy oils, you may end up clogging your pores. Know your skin type (oily, dry, combination, or sensitive). Then choose products made for that type. If you’re unsure, start with gentle, lightweight products before progressing to stronger ones.
YOU ARE NOT APPLYING IT CORRECTLY
The way you apply skincare products matters. If you apply your serum after a thick cream, it won’t sink into your skin properly. If you don’t cleanse your face before applying products, dirt and oil may block absorption. Also, using too much or too little of a product can reduce its effectiveness. Learn the correct order to apply your skincare products. Always apply the lightest product first, then the heaviest, so your skin can absorb them more effectively.
YOU ARE MIXING TOO MANY PRODUCTS
Skincare overload is real. Some people use 6–10 different products at once, not knowing some ingredients cancel each other out or cause irritation. For example, mixing retinol with vitamin C or exfoliating acids can make your skin too sensitive and lead to breakouts instead of results. Keep it simple. Stick to a basic routine. If you add treatment products (such as those for acne or spots), introduce them one at a time so you can see what’s working.
YOU ARE IGNORING LIFESTYLE FACTORS
Skincare doesn’t stop at the products you apply. If you’re not eating healthy, not drinking enough water, not sleeping well, or constantly stressed, your skin will show it. No cream can completely cover up poor lifestyle habits. For example, lack of sleep can cause dark circles, and too much junk food can trigger breakouts. Support your skincare with a healthy lifestyle. Drink water, eat more fruits and vegetables, sleep well, and manage stress. This way, your products can do their job.
Before you throw away that skincare product, check if you’re guilty of any of these mistakes. Sometimes the product is good, it just needs the right time, routine, and lifestyle to work properly. Remember, skincare is a journey, not a race.
BY JOHNSON CHUKWUEKE
There’s a special kind of magic in bloom season—the time when buds open, colours spill out, and the world feels alive again.
But bloom season isn’t just for flowers; it’s for people, too. We all have moments when we’ve been holding back, keeping quiet, or blending into the background. Then something shifts, and we realise it’s time to show up fully, unapologetically, ourselves.
Coming out of your shell isn’t about becoming someone else—it’s about peeling away the layers of fear, doubt, and hesitation so the real you can step forward. Whether you’ve been stuck in your comfort zone for months or years, your bloom season can start right now.
Accept the Root Work
Before a flower blooms, it spends time underground building roots. Your quiet seasons aren’t wasted; they’re when you’ve been gathering strength. Accept that preparation is part of your story.
Say Yes More Often
New experiences are the sunlight that triggers growth. Whether it’s attending an event alone, trying a new class, or speaking up in a meeting, saying yes cracks open the shell you’ve been living in.
Surround Yourself With Gardeners
The right people water your growth. Spend time with those who encourage your voice, celebrate your wins, and push you to dream bigger.
Celebrate Small Petals Own Your Colours
Your personality, your quirks, your perspective—they’re your colours. Don’t dull them to fit in. Confidence grows when you stop apologising for who you are.
Blooming doesn’t happen overnight. Maybe it’s making eye contact in a room, wearing a bold outfit, or sharing your opinion without overthinking. Each step deserves recognition.
Your bloom season is about embracing the fullness of who you are and allowing the world to see it. Just as flowers don’t compete with each other—they simply bloom—you don’t need to compare your journey to anyone else’s. Growth is personal, and it happens at your pace.
Ididn’t even want to be at that party. I only went because Fola wouldn’t stop disturbing me. “It’s just a chill hangout,” she said. “Come and have fun, abeg.”
It wasn’t chill. The music was loud, drinks were everywhere, and people were laughing too hard at jokes that weren’t even funny. And then, somehow, we ended up in the middle of a Truth or Dare game.
I tried to stay quiet, sipping my drink, but my turn came, and someone dared me to kiss Bolaji, Fola’s boyfriend and the host of the party.
“No, I can’t,” I said quickly, shaking my head. My heart pounded as everyone’s eyes turned to me.
“Why?” someone teased.
Instead of answering, I picked up my cup and drank as the room erupted in cheers and laughter.
Bolaji just smirked, leaning back in his chair, his eyes lingering on me in a way that made my skin feel hot.
Not long after, the drinks finished, and Fola asked me to follow Bolaji to get more. I didn’t want to, but saying no would look suspicious. So, I grabbed my bag and followed him out. The night was quiet outside, a sharp contrast to the chaos inside. As soon as we got into his car, I realised how small the space felt, how close we were.
Halfway down the road, he broke the silence. “Why couldn’t you kiss me?”
I laughed nervously, keeping my eyes on the road ahead. “You’re my friend’s boyfriend. Am I supposed to have a reason for not kissing you?”
“What if I wanted to kiss you?” His voice was
low, teasing but serious.
I swallowed. “You’re drunk, BJ.”
That was when he pulled the car over. My heart skipped. He turned to me, his eyes steady, dark, and intense.
“I’m not that drunk,” he said.
And before I could respond, he reached over, cupped my face, and kissed me.
It was supposed to be a brief, stolen kiss. Just one mistake. But it wasn’t.
The kiss deepened, his hand sliding behind my neck, pulling me closer. My body betrayed me, melting into his touch. I knew it was wrong. I knew this would change everything if anyone found out. But at that moment, logic didn’t matter.
Somehow, I ended up in his lap, my hands gripping his shoulders, his lips tracing fire down my neck. The car windows fogged up, the world outside disappearing as we gave in to everything we weren’t supposed to feel.
The way he touched me hungrily, desperately, like he’d been waiting for this moment, made
every soft groan, every whispered “God, you feel so good” burned into my memory.
It was reckless. It was forbidden. But it was breathtaking.
By the time we got back to the house, my hair was messy, and my lips were still swollen. I quickly checked myself in the side mirror before stepping out, hoping no one would notice.
Inside, the party was still going. Music blasting, people dancing, nobody paying attention to us.
Fola waved from across the room. “Finally! What took you people so long?”
Bolaji just grinned, lifting the drinks. “Traffic,” he lied smoothly.
I forced a laugh and joined her, pretending like my heart wasn’t still racing, pretending like I didn’t have his taste still on my lips.
No one suspected a thing. And maybe that was the scariest part, that something so wild, so intense, could happen, and the world would just keep spinning like nothing happened.
But me? I knew I’d never forget that night.
TheBad Guys, an animated heist comedy released back in 2022, finally offered parents a way to wean their kids onto Steven Soderbergh and his Ocean’s trilogy (11, 12, 13). And what a gift that was! It looked snappy in that post-Spider-Verse “3D-made-to-look-like2D-animation” way, featured Sam Rockwell as a besuited wolf doing a pretty good George Clooney impression, and had enough gags to keep the whole thing moving at a pleasant pace. And this sequel, greenlit off the back of the original’s hefty haul of $250m at the box office, nearly sends us right back to that feeling.
The Bad Guys 2 has just enough wit and spirit that you can take your kids to see it without feeling like you’re doing a disservice to their intellectual development. It even, in fact, looks better than its predecessor, since directors Pierre Perifel and JP Sans’s animation team have pushed the physicality of their zoological crew of thievesturned-heroes – Rockwell’s Mr Wolf, Mr Snake (Marc Maron), Mr Shark (Craig Robinson), Mr Piranha (Anthony Ramos), and Ms Tarantula (Awkwafina) – in a way that wisely and happily borrows from the jerky but imaginative realm of anime.
That said, the task of drumming up a plot about criminals who want to do right but who also look objectively cooler when they’re doing wrong ends up with the sequel stuck chasing its own narrative tail. We start with a flashback to the crew in their prime, engaged in one of those stereotypical vehicle chases through a
Middle Eastern city (at one point, they have to swerve out of the way of a pile of crates filled with chickens).
We then return to the present day and find them all luckless in the task of finding steady, respectable employment.
And while nobody’s expecting The Bad Guys 2 to sit the kids down and lecture them about the link between secure employment prospects and reduced reoffending rates, the film still strides past several open goals and circles back to its predecessor’s basic assertions that we shouldn’t judge wolves by their toothy covers. Neither does it help that Zootropolis, which offered the same lesson first, also has a sequel out this year.
Here, the Bad Guys find themselves framed by a rival crew – Kitty Kat (Danielle Brooks), Doom (Natasha Lyonne), and Pigtail Petrova (Maria Bakalova) – operating as “The Phantom Bandit”, swiping priceless artefacts made out of a rare metal known as “MacGuffinite” (and there are plenty more cine-literate jokes where that came from). Unless it’s meant as a covert homage to the all-female heist team in Steve McQueen’s Widows, there’s no real motivation behind these characters apart from the vague sense of apology for the OG Bad Guys falling into that tired, old “all men, one woman” formation.
There’s also an Elon-Musktype figure named Mr Moon (voiced by Colin Jost) with AIenhanced glasses and a “Moon X” rocket. You spend the entire film waiting for some kind of slam dunk satire, only to realise he’s there exclusively so the rocket can launch and we can get a climactic punchline of a space suit filled with farts. Which, for both good and bad, sums up this film well enough.
Rating: 6.8/10
Cute with your kids
BY BOLUWATIFE ADESINA
In a summer that hasn’t been kind to comic book movies, James Gunn’s Superman managed to recharge DC’s floundering cinematic universe with strong reviews and almost $600 million in box office receipts – and Peacemaker season 2 keeps that party going.
Originating in Gunn’s underrated The Suicide Squad (2021), John Cena’s antihero and his supporting cast are among a select group of characters retained from the earlier continuity, which sputtered out across a series of consecutive flops released in 2023.
But rather than explain their return by obsessing over multiverse logistics (as the Marvel Cinematic Universe has regrettably spent the last four years doing), Peacemaker hand-waves into this bold new era in a matter of minutes.
A quick appearance from Nathan Fillion’s Guy Gardner and Isabela Merced’s Hawkgirl is all that’s needed to embed this season in the world of Superman, leaving the intricacies of the new DCU canon to be ironed out at a later date. Frankly, it’s not important for this story.
We reunite with Chris Smith (aka Peacemaker) several months after the events of the first season, which saw his team thwart an invasion of body-snatching alien bugs, who might well have been the ‘good guys’ depending on your point of view.
Things are at a low ebb, with former team leader Emilia Harcourt (Jennifer Holland) blacklisted from the intelligence community, while associates Leota Adebayo (Danielle Brooks) and John Economos (Steve Agee) aren’t faring much better – respectively fronting an ill-judged start-up, and handling a tedious assignment.
Chris is firmly in the crosshairs of incoming ARGUS boss Rick Flag Sr (Frank Grillo), who knows that the brute killed his son not long ago and correctly suspects that he’s hiding a dangerous interdimensional portal in his late father’s home.
It’s inside this pocket universe that Peacemaker bumps into a version of himself from a reality where things are working out a lot better – but don’t be alarmed! This isn’t an exercise in mind-numbing franchise maintenance, but the catalyst for a fascinating exploration of this surprisingly compelling character.
Gunn cannily flips the script on multiverse stories, which have recently become little more than stale and uninspired vehicles for celebrity cameos, by returning to what made them so tantalising in the first place.
Of course, it’s the existential profundity of seeing an individual teased with a version of their life that they’ve always wondered about – where certain key decisions and events played out differently – which then forces them to reckon with the world they’ve built instead.
Viewed through this prism, it’s actually a weighty
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concept with deep potential in speculative fiction, which is partly why it’s so frustrating to see it trivially overused in the manner that has characterised recent forays in film and television.
Against this disheartening backdrop, the most surprising thing about Peacemaker season 2 is how emotionally affecting it is. Sure, the crude dialogue and eccentric humour remains, but there are moments in these episodes that carry real pathos in spite of the absurdity – Gunn’s speciality since the original Guardians of the Galaxy.
Indeed, that a hawkish brute in a daft silver helmet could be anywhere near this nuanced is a testament to his knack for finding vulnerability in characters that initially seem one-note, but Cena too deserves credit for giving his all to this role in both its lighter and darker moments.
That’s not to say that Chris Smith gets off scotfree; this spin-off certainly hasn’t forgotten his wicked behaviour in The Suicide Squad, nor the life-long history of violence that landed him in Task Force X, and he’ll be forced to confront that ugliness before the season’s end.
His doting best friend, Adrian Chase aka Vigilante (Freddie Stroma), is another good example of this moral tightrope; objectively, he’s a violent and disturbed person, but the earnest adoration he holds for the group and his childlike enthusiasm for the most mundane things make it tough not to empathise with him.
Holland is dealt a more serious arc as the spiralling Harcourt, who succumbs to darker
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tendencies when she finds herself backed into a corner. Adebayo continues to be the glue that holds everyone together, providing emotional support to each member of the team as the most grounded and emotionally intelligent. However, it’s a role that somewhat diminishes her own arc, which, after five episodes, is limited to a throwaway start-up and a boring breakup. Brooks certainly deserves better.
Agee continues to be reliable comic relief as the jaded Economos, who takes the ‘straight man’ role in a hysterical pairing with new addition Tim Meadows. The Mean Girls and SNL alum is clearly having a blast as bizarre ARGUS agent Langston Fleury, whose pet nicknames and surprising weakness provide some hearty chuckles.
Admittedly, there are a few instances when things get a bit too surreal for their own good. I, for one, could live with a bit less Eagly (Peacemaker’s pet bald eagle), whose lore is expanded upon with the addition of a culturally appropriating bird hunter, played with admirable commitment by Gunn favourite Michael Rooker.
But even accounting for its imperfections, it’s tough not to like Peacemaker. From the opening dance number on, it’s an enormous amount of fun that carefully balances its surreal pleasures with impactful character-led moments – and plenty of unexpected twists.