I’m sitting by the window, my legs stretched out, enjoying a warm cup of tea. There’s music playing softly in the background, it’s Joju’s playlist, of course, and I can hear the girls laughing in the kitchen, trying to cook jollof rice in a Moroccan villa.
Nigerian Love Stories: Read how a plate of ram, fried plantain, and a loud cousin named Zainab turned one guy’s ordinary Ileya into something unforgettable. You might just believe in soft love again.