Fashion Story · The Fashion Chronicle

Make Yours

Most people say I have conflicting passions. I keep correcting that impression and explain that rather, I have an analytical mind. I love anything that exercises my brain, they include brain push-ups and a little bit of brain kick-boxing. I can stay up late thinking about whether or not Zero-inflated Poisson models are nested in Poisson models or how to fix a bug in some code. Then there’s the other part of me that loves to craft and make stuff. The feeling of watching tiny bits of components come together to become something to appreciate remains so fulfilling and warming to my heart. It is this feeling and my love for well-structured clothes that pushed me to enroll in a fashion school five years ago and I haven’t regretted it ever since.

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Data Story · Statistics

Nigeria in Deep Sh*t?

THE STORY

My journey back home usually includes a stop at Yaba. This evening was no different from the ones before it. I strolled down to the bus park at Yaba Market where I board a bus home, trying my best to move away from traders who attempt to grab my arm or thrust their wares at me. As I moved towards the gutter, I caught a familiar stench of stale urine that stretches down to the end of the road. I walked really fast to escape the stench. I didn’t go too far when I noticed the side of the gutter messed up with watery stool. I was in immense disgust as I looked away from it at the speed of light. It raises the question, “Why would someone do that?”

Open-Defecation
credit: thequint

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