Life With Dolapo

  Click to listen  Till that Day ❤️ At the end of Dollz rendition, Fade had tears in her eyes, her vision blurred by the emotional impact of the performance.  The story had touched her deeply, evoking a surge of feelings she couldn’t quite contain.  Unbeknownst to her, Leye had been watching her intently throughout Dollz’s act, his gaze fixated on her face, noting every flicker of emotion.  As soon as he saw her recover from the wave of emotion stirred by Dollz’s storytelling—her shoulders relaxing, her breathing steady—he quickly shifted his gaze away, pretending to look elsewhere, averting suspicion and avoiding being caught staring.  Mayowa had the stage once more. He praised the performance and used it as a teaching curve for creative writing and it’s delivery and after a bit of small talk here and there,  the small group session came to an end, promising another session tomorrow.  But for now , the prospect of lunch was an exciting one! Packi...

I’ve been striving to make a comeback with my writing, but lately, it feels like I’ve lost my touch .  My words no longer sing the way they used to. The thrill of creation has faded, and the satisfaction I once found in finishing a piece seems to have slipped away.  Draft after draft, everything feels insufficient—not enough, not right. Perhaps I haven't yet discovered the story my heart truly wants to tell, or maybe I lack the courage to share it, knowing that writing exposes vulnerability—or the ability to craft lies that feel as real as the truth. Still, I refuse to give up; I'll keep writing, keep searching for that spark and the song my heart sings. P.S: Fade and Lele lovers, part 5 might be coming to you sooner than you think! Ifedolapo ❤️

  After spending all day in the room, it was the perfect time for an evening stroll.  Ibie could imagine the crisp waft of the evening air on her face and the energy in form of warmth that will fill her body from taking a brisk walk .  She wasn’t in the mood for conversation so she picked her AirPods put on her black track wear and her stripy pink and yellow running shoes for a splash of color against the sunset.  As she started her walk, she searched for what to listen to on her Spotify. A prompt from the app popped up to her screen “Join a jam”. Normally she would ignore, but today she was curious -she clicked  This was what was playing.  Is this Love? Someone was playing one of her faves!    Very nice. She scanned the environment to check who could sharing the jam as the name of the owner of the jam gave no clues.  Then she caught glimpse of someone underneath the shade away from the path she marked for her walk. It was him.  Yeah, hi...

  Click to listen while reading  Take the A Train! ❤️ When I first embarked on the journey of crafting Fade and Lele’s story over a month ago, I was at a bit of a loss. The spark was there, but the words eluded me. I knew I had to keep my blog alive with fresh content—despite the whirlwind of daily life and my own wavering mental state. So, I began to explore familiar themes and settings, looking for inspiration.  Names were essential, and I turned to Google for a list of male and female names. However, nothing quite captured the essence of the story I hadn’t fully formed yet. Then, out of the blue, I heard someone call out "Fadekemi." It struck me as a great idea, but I decided to simplify it to just “Fade.” I chuckled at the thought that some of my international readers might pronounce it as "Fade" (/feɪd/), while others might say it as "Fadé."  As for "Lele," it was born from my playful twist on the name "Leke." But what really blew ...

Click to listen while reading  Enduring Hope ❤️ Dollz’s Story at the summer camp  I was five years old  When I looked into the mirror and saw the most perfect little girl my parents adored  Then six years came 6 successful years of revolving round the sun When my class teacher Miss Joan  With the maroon red lipstick told me  “You’re simply too slow”  As I struggled to get my sums correctly.  Then at church  Max, the half American full of curiosity Asked me, loud enough for everyone to hear, “Why are you too black?” I had no reply for him  But the question definitely sent me to my mirror.  And in front of my mirror  I couldn’t help but notice new lines and cracks reflecting back at me. Between the ages of six and ten,  The vibrant memories of love and perfection began to fade.  Those years were marked by tumult—the beginning of my double life- A half and quarter with my mum  And whatever was left with my dad As my...