Have you ever picked up a book, settled into your favourite chair with a steaming mug of tea, and prepared yourself for a delightful escape, only to find yourself six chapters deep into a harrowing exploration of generational suffering, existential dread, and the slow, agonising decline of the protagonist?
By the time you finish, you don’t feel enlightened or entertained. You feel like you’ve been run over by a metaphorical lorry.
I’ve just read three heavy books back to back, so this is a hot topic for me at the moment. But in past times, I’ve read books that made me uncomfortable for weeks. I’ve read books that gave me nightmares. I’ve read books that triggered me and made me feel angry. I remember when I wrote Nothing Comes Close, it was because I had had enough of the books that were being published and promoted at the time: filled with themes such as war, AIDS, suffering, trauma, abuse and such horrors. I wanted to read a story about the lives of everyday ordinary people, without a bigger agenda.
Don’t get me wrong, there is absolutely a place for “serious” literature. We need stories that challenge us and make us think. But lately, it feels like we’ve been drowning in “literary trauma.” It’s as if a story isn’t considered “important” unless it leaves the reader staring at a wall in a state of despair.
I’m here to make a case for the opposite. I’m here to advocate for the satirical escape, the light-hearted, for the giggle that escapes you in the middle of a crowded bus, and for the sheer, unadulterated joy of flash fiction that doesn’t take itself too seriously.
The fatigue of the heavy
We live in a world that is already quite heavy and chaotic. Between the news cycles, the cost of living, and the general busyness of daily life (especially if you live in a city), our brains are constantly on high alert. When we finally find a new book to dive into, do we really want more trauma?
I want to see a shift towards lighter, sharper, more humorous storytelling, not because readers want to avoid reality, but because they want to process it without collapsing under it.
Why satire is actually good for your brain
Believe it or not, choosing laughter over trauma isn’t just about being “soft.” It’s actually a brilliant psychological survival tactic. Research shows that humour and satire are incredibly effective coping mechanisms. When life feels too heavy to confront directly, a bit of wit provides a “psychological distance” that makes the burden manageable. It allows us to look at life’s chaos without being swallowed by it. And if there’s one thing Nigerians have mastered, it’s this: the ability to find humour in the most ridiculous situations.
Laughter returns your nervous system to a calmer state. It’s like a reset button for your brain. This is why I love writing humour. It’s a way to acknowledge the madness of life while refusing to let it win.
The magic of the short and snappy
This is where flash fiction shines. You don’t need 400 pages to make an impact. Sometimes, all you need is one sharp, well-observed moment.
Flash fiction is the perfect medium for satire. It’s quick, it’s punchy, and it leaves the reader with a smile instead of a heavy heart.
A Moment of Lagos Office Chaos
The meeting was scheduled for 10:00 a.m. By 10:17, everyone was seated. By 10:32, no one had any idea why.
Mr. Adeyemi entered the conference room and adjusted his tie like a man about to deliver ground-breaking wisdom.
“Team,” he began, pacing slowly, “what we need to do is circle back and really leverage our core competencies in a way that aligns with the broader organisational vision moving forward.”
Silence. Ada blinked.
Kunle nodded thoughtfully, as if something profound had just been said.
“So,” Mr. Adeyemi continued, “we must be proactive. Not reactive. We need synergy. Alignment. Visibility.”
Still nothing. Chidi glanced at his watch. 10:41.
“So what exactly are we doing?” someone finally asked.
Mr. Adeyemi smiled. “Excellent question. Let’s take that offline.”
By 10:48, the meeting ended.
Everyone returned to their desks, deeply relieved, having achieved absolutely nothing; except a renewed appreciation for emails.
No tragedy, no existential crisis. Just the shared chaos of a meeting that should have been a memo.
Writing is allowed to be light-hearted.
Many newbie writers sit down at their desk and immediately feel the pressure to be profound.
They think, “If I’m not writing something deep… is it even worth writing?”
The answer is a big YES. If you choose to write with wit, humour, and sharp observation, you are doing something powerful. You are giving your reader space to breathe.
Tips for injecting laughter into your writing:
- Exaggerate the mundane: Take a normal situation, like waiting for a bus or buying groceries, and dial the absurdity up to crazy.
- Focus on dialogue: People say ridiculous things when they’re stressed or trying to sound important.
- The rule of three: Set up a pattern and then break it with something unexpected. (e.g., He wanted love, success, and a meat pie that wasn’t 90% air.)
- Don’t fear “simple” humour: Sometimes a joke about Lagos heat is exactly what the soul needs.
The reader’s choice
As readers, we have the power to choose what we consume. If you go through my blog or look through my books, you’ll notice a recurring theme: I like people. I like their quirks, their failures, and their triumphs. I’ve written about bankers, bakers, and everything in between. And while my characters certainly face challenges, I always try to leave a window open for light to come in because there is already enough heaviness in the world.
So, as a reader, don’t feel guilty for skipping the 800-page saga about the history of sadness. It’s okay to want to read about a Serial Best Man or the drama of a Lagos wedding.
And as a writer, the next time you are struggling to find the words for your next story, try an experiment. Don’t try to be deep. Just try to be funny. See how it feels to let the satire flow. You might find that the “literary trauma” was a weight you never needed to carry in the first place.
If you’re ready to dive into some stories that prioritise wit over woe, why not check out my latest Lagos flash fiction stories? Or, if you’re feeling inspired to start your own writing journey, head over to my about page to see how I turned my own love for storytelling into a career.
Let’s stop making “suffering” a requirement for “good” writing. Let’s celebrate the observers, the satirists, and the flash fiction writers who know that a well-placed joke can be just as powerful as a tragic ending.
Because honestly, if we can’t laugh at the absurdity of it all, what are we even doing?
If you want more bite-sized stories and writing tips, don’t forget to sign up for my newsletter or contact me to say hi. I’d love to hear what’s making you laugh lately!
