Backfire/Gone-wrong Stories & Experiences

Have you heard of the Cursed River in Nigeria?

This River is one of the most mysterious places in Africa, according to history, it is said that if you capture a fish and try to cook it, the fish remains RAW regardless of how much heat you apply. This River is called INACHALO RIVER, Located in Idah local government Kogi state Nigeria. In ancient time, king IDOKO who ruled during the cessant inter tribal wars between the Jukuns and Igala Kingdom made an order for the inachalo river to be poisoned as a war tool to weaken the Jukun, because the jukun warriors depend on that river for their daily food supply whenever they came for attack as a result of the poisoning many Jukn warriors became weak and eventually died of starvation and food poisoning. Legend goes that the supernatural fishes are a result of the Jukum warriors who used the river escape by transforming into fishes. As part of ritual to end the war and bring peace to the Igala kingdom, princess “Oma Idoko” was buried alive along with 9 other female slaves. Till this day people in the area does not catch or eat the fish.

Tade peeped behind the curtain separating his room from the living room for the third time.

"Ohhhhh" He mumured "Make dis woman comot nah"

He watched as his mother finally repacked her makeup kit and stowed it in it's usual position on the shelf.

"Tade!" She called

"Ma" he replied and walked into the room.

"I'm off to see Iya Gbenga, please don't leave this house, Salihu will come by to drop a new bale of clothes for me"

Tade's face soured 'No nah' he thought 'Not today of all days'

"Mama, but I have to go to church by Six" he said

"Church?!" His mother yelled "Dem no born you well, is it the church that is feeding you, Tade if you're not at home when Salihu deliver those clothes this house will not contain both of us" She hissed, tweaked her bright yellow gele that matched the rest of her outfit, picked up her handbag and stormed out of the house.

Tade sat on the steps in front of the house and waited on Salihu. He glanced at the cheap watch strapped to his left wrist, it was few minutes till Six, soon Kola would call for him.

He got up and walked a few paces forward and turned to stare at the rickety apartment he and his mother lived in. The walls were brown and so dirty he couldn't discern the original colour it was painted in, that is if it had ever been painted. The roof was rusty and leaked in several places. Most of the window shutters were broken giving free entrance to mosquitoes and other vile insects.

He sighed and shook his head but not after that day, after that day, things would change, after that day, his mother would never have to suffer again, instead of selling those nasty clothes, he'd open a boutique for her so that she can hold her head up high in the midst of other women. Yes, he assured himself, it was all for his mother, to give her a comfortable life.

Kola don show am the way, Kola don show am say good boy no dey pay.

He took one last glance at the road stretching to the end of the street. Seeing no sign of Salihu, he locked the house and dropped the key in it's usual hiding place.

He turned around and saw Kola behind him.

"Kola" he grinned

"My Gee" Kola replied bumping Tade's fists and patting his back "You don ready?"

"Yes" Tade said, nodding his head.

The two of them made their way around the cluster of houses Calling out to friends and replying greetings.

"Tade You dey go church?"

"Tade remember to pray for me oo"

"Tade, church boy"

"Tade where your Bible nah"

Tade shook his head, if only they knew...

It was not quite seven when they made it to the rendezvous point but it was already dark, it was the season where people ascribe the days as being 'shorter' and the nights 'longer'.

They were the first to arrive and while Kola chose to sit on a fallen log, Tade chose to remain standing, he was a bundle of nervous energy and he wondered how Kola could remain calm but then that was probably not his first time.

Not long after, the others arrived, three guys dressed in black.
Kola stood up and fist bumped each of them while Tade stood aside awkwardly.

One of the men came up to him "Na de boy be dis?"

"Yes boss K" Kola replied

Boss K surveyed Tade, from his low-cut hair to his button down shirt and plaid trousers.

"See as he dress, you think say na evangelism we dey go do?" He chuckled and his henchmen laughed along side him.

Boss K punched Tade's shoulders and he flinched

"Dis boy dey fear oo, you get de mind?"

"Yes sir" Tade replied

"Oya nah, make we go"

The site of the operation was Chief Olushola's house. Chief Olushola, a widower was a real estate tycoon, owning properties all over Lagos and surrounding states.
The house was enclosed in high walls and an iron fence but that was not a problem. Boss K had an 'in' with Ajayi, the gateman. He walked up to the gate, tapped lightly and the gate creaked open noiselessly.

"He dey inside?"

"Yes Boss" Ajayi replied "de money dey him study"

"Good boy" Boss K grinned "Go wait for us for location, when we return, I go settle you"

"Yes sir" Ajayi said and ran out of the compound.

Tade watched as Boss K dropped the bag he held on the ground and began handing out black masks and guns, he shivered as his fingers closed over the cold metal of the one given to him.

"No worry" Kola assured him "You no go use am"

Boss K led them to the door of the house and knocked. The door opened and he shoved the person inside the house.

Tade's breathing hiked, he could feel the sweat pouring out of his forehead and his shirt was already soaked despite the chilliness of the evening.
He took deep breathes " Do it for mama" he whispered to himself, trying to keep calm. He noticed that the others were already inside the house and he quickly followed them.
He saw a middle aged woman, probably the house help cowering on the floor beside chief Olushola who was being tied by one of Boss K's Lackeys.

Tade and Kola was left to cover both of them while the rest of the gang went upstairs to raid the study.
Tade surveyed chief Olushola, he was lying on the ground, his eyes closed, his breathing shallow. There was an angry gash on his forehead, he must have been hit by one of the guys. Tade wished the men to be faster so they'll leave the house and the Chief can be taken to a hospital.

"Tade" Kola called "I dey come, make I go piss"

Kola stepped out of the front door to relieve himself and Tade sighed he was feeling very uncomfortable and wondered why Boss K and his men were taking so long.
Suddenly, he heard a shriek and something shattered behind his head, he could feel blood trickling down his neck. Without looking back, he aimed the gun behind him and shot twice, he heard a gasp and a heavy thud as the person fell.

He turned to glance at the person on the ground behind him and screamed. All he could see was yellow, a bright yellow with two large patches of crimson.
He dropped to his knees pulling off his mask so he can see better.
"No...No..." He chanted "Not mama, mama is at Iya Gbenga's house ,No..."

"Tade" She whispered, blood sputtering from out of her mouth, the brightness in her eyes fading.

"No..." Tade clutched her hand with one of his own and stared at her glassy, lifeless eyes. Closing his fingers around the gun still in his other hand, he shoved it into his mouth and pulled the trigger.

I was disturbed last night by a relentless buzzing, the familiar sound of mosquitoes on the prowl. No matter how many times I swatted, turned on fans, or used repellent, those persistent insects seemed to always find a way to bother me. I had made up my mind that enough was enough; I needed a more potent solution. As soon as the morning light filtered through my window, I headed out to buy an insecticide.

After a trip to the store, I had the insecticide in hand. I followed the instructions carefully and sprayed it throughout my room before retiring for the night. I decided to give the room some time to clear of fumes, standing outside for a while and patiently waiting for the action to take place. Finally, when I returned to my room, I felt confident that I could finally enjoy a mosquito-free evening.

However, as night fell, I was awakened by the familiar hum of mosquitoes. In disbelief, I turned on my flashlight, hoping to catch a glimpse of my adversaries, but there was nothing to be seen. I found myself questioning whether I was simply on the verge of numbness to the bites or if my mind was playing tricks on me. Perhaps, after battling with mosquitoes for so long, I no longer recognized the sensation of my skin being left untouched and the bites themselves. It seemed I could no longer differentiate between being bitten and simply the feeling of being preyed upon by the small, relentless pests so accustomed to bugging me.

As I sat back in my chair, my belly content and satisfied from a good evening meal, my mind drifted back to a particular childhood memory. I vividly recalled a day when I had ventured into my neighbor's compound to play with children of my age. We were all having a great time, running around and laughing, when my attention was drawn to the luscious, ripe fruits hanging from a tree near the neighbor's house.

As I watched the neighbor prepare a batch of my favorite meal, spaghetti, my eyes lingered on the tempting fruits, and I made a silent promise to pluck them as soon as the opportunity arose. It wasn't long before I seized my chance and scurried over to the tree, successfully grabbing two ripe oranges. However, my victory was short-lived as I was struck by a sudden, sharp pain on my lips. A bee had stung me, and the sensation was excruciating.

The pain seemed to radiate throughout my entire being, overwhelming all of my senses. Tears welled up in my eyes as the burning sensation persisted, and I found myself crying out in distress. The experience was a stark reminder that even the most innocent of actions could lead to unexpected and painful consequences. As I reminisced on this incident, I couldn't help but let out a rueful chuckle. Oh, the adventures of childhood and the lessons we learn along the way.

There lived a flamboyant and feathery fowl named Danny. Danny was no ordinary fowl; he was a rooster with a penchant for blaring loud music at all hours. His favorite pastime? Cranking up the volume and strutting around like a rockstar, completely oblivious to the uproar he was causing in the community.

Every morning, as the sun peeked over the horizon, Danny would blast his favorite tunes, much to the dismay of the sleepyheads trying to catch a few extra winks. Even during the quiet of the night, the neighborhood would resonate with Danny's greatest hits as startled residents mulled over the mystery of how a rooster managed to jam out so loud.

"Hey, Danny, you're waking up the whole neighborhood with that racket!" complained one of his neighbors.

But Danny was unperturbed. He strutted with even more gusto and ratched the volume up a notch higher, much like a rooster reveling in his own morning crowing.

His friend Lizard, who lived in the same neighborhood, attempted to reason with Danny. "Hey, Danny, why not turn down the music a bit? It's making everyone twitchy!"

But Danny, full of himself and thinking he was the king of the coop, retorted, "I'm just setting the mood for the morning! No one appreciates a good beat like I do."

Even his close friend, Rat, warned him, "Danny, you're turning the entire place into a wild concert. It's not good, buddy!"

Yet Danny danced to his own melody. "Don't be such a downer, Rat. If you've got it, flaunt it – that's what I always say!"

So, Danny merrily continued his daily routine, bobbing his head to the music while the disgruntled neighbors tossed and turned, their ears ringing with every decibel.

One fateful night, as Danny snoozed soundly amidst his pulsating playlist, a wily burglar, craving a bit of midnight mischief, found his way into Danny's humble abode. Slipping through an open window, the thief rifled through Danny's possessions with the agility of a ninja, leaving no nook or cranny unturned.

As the morning sun began to rise, Danny finally roused from his peaceful slumber, basking in the echo of his own music. That's when he realized something was terribly amiss – his snazzy furniture was nowhere to be found, not even a single feather pillow! The walls were barren, the cabinets stripped bare, and all that echoed through the empty shell of a house was the persistent beat of his music player.

In a frenzy, Danny flapped his wings and let out a squawk that could be heard across the whole neighborhood. "Where's my stuff?! What happened to my prized possessions?!"

To his utter astonishment, the only thing left in his possession was his beloved music player.

I spent the entire day cooped up inside my home, hoping and waiting for the electricity distribution company to restore power. My plans for the day included catching up on some reading, completing my online tasks, and perhaps even binge-watching a new series. However, my expectations were soon met with disappointment as the hours passed and the power remained out without even a hint of returning. It was as if the entire world around me had been swallowed by the darkness, leaving me alone with my thoughts and dwindling phone battery.

From the crack of dawn until the last glimmer of twilight, I sat by the window, eagerly awaiting any sign of the lights flickering back on. I tried distracting myself with some old-fashioned reading under the dim light of a candle, but it was evident that my mind kept wandering back to the hope of the power returning and granting me some respite from the darkness.

As the clock struck 7:09 am, I realized that there was no point in waiting any longer. I proceeded to gather all my devices in need of charging, including my phone, laptop, and tablet, and hastily made my way out the door. With a determination to still make something of the day, I set off to school, knowing that the library would be the perfect place to spend the evening and recharge my devices. The prospect of a productive night ahead, filled with studying and the comfort of knowing I could charge my devices, helped ease the disappointment of a day wasted in darkness.

I arrived at the quiet campus, the moon casting a silvery glow over the grounds as I made my way to the library. As I settled into a quiet corner, I couldn't help but appreciate the calm and tranquility that enveloped the campus after the hustle and bustle of the day. Eventually, I found a cozy spot with a power outlet and settled in with my books and notes, ready to make the most of my evening.

The hours passed by in a blur as I delved into my studies, savoring the luxury of being able to power my devices and have uninterrupted access to resources for the night. The library's serene ambiance provided a welcome backdrop to my focused study session, allowing me to lose myself in the tasks at hand without the distractions that often accompany working at home.

Late into the night, as the quiet hum of the library filled the space around me, I felt a sense of accomplishment and contentment. Although the day had started with disappointment, the opportunity to make use of the school's facilities and immerse myself in my academic pursuits left me with a renewed sense of purpose and productivity. As I packed up my belongings and prepared to head home, I couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected turn of events. Though the day had not unfolded as planned, it had offered a valuable lesson in resilience and adaptability, leaving me with a newfound appreciation for the simplicity of finding comfort and solace in unexpected places

Last week, I bought a fresh pair of shoes for school. They were pristine and white, and I was proud to wear them. But then, two days ago, I made a mistake that I'm still kicking myself for.

I had worn my new shoes in the rain and they ended up getting soaked through. After I got home, I decided to put them outside in the sun to dry. It was such a clear, sunny day, and I thought it would be the perfect way to dry them off. I left them out there for the whole day, confident they would be ready by the evening.

But as the day wore on, clouds rolled in, and the sun was chased away by thick gray blankets. I didn't even notice it was happening until it was too late. A sudden and unexpected rainstorm began to pour down, drenching everything in sight. I wasn't even thinking about my poor shoes— I was so used to the dry season that the idea of rain had completely slipped my mind.

By the time I remembered my shoes, it was already too late. They had been left outside in the downpour, completely at the mercy of the unrelenting rain. I had let them down, all because I wasn't thinking straight due to the unusual weather. When I went out to retrieve them, they were soaked through, no longer the sparkling shoes I had purchased just a week prior.

I brought them inside, trying to undo the damage, but it was clear that the rain had taken its toll. My once pristine shoes were now waterlogged and stained. I should have been more vigilant, should have heeded the change in the weather, but I had let my guard down, only to be caught off guard.

Now, I'm left with a pair of soggy, sorry shoes, and I can't help but wish I had been more attentive. It's a lesson I won't soon forget: in the ever-unpredictable weather of life, it's important to always think ahead and not take anything for granted.

I was scrolling through my social media feed when a dazzling pair of red shoes caught my eye. It was love at first sight. The shimmering red color and elegant design beckoned me, and I knew immediately that I had to have them. To my delight, the post revealed that the seller was located just a few blocks away from my place.

The next day, eager and full of anticipation, I set off to visit the seller's shop. As I stepped inside, I couldn't contain my excitement. I scanned the assortment of shoes on display, searching eagerly for the one that had captured my heart. Finally, there it was, the gorgeous red shoe that had captivated me online.

With a sense of joy and hope, I tried it on. However, my heart sank as I realized that the shoe didn't fit me well. It was a disappointment to say the least. The seller, noticing my disappointment, suggested I explore the other options she had available. There were several beautiful and high-quality shoes, but none of them held the same allure as the red pair I had set my heart on.

As I left the shop, I couldn't help feeling a little disheartened. It was a shame that such a beautiful shoe didn't come in the right size for me. Perhaps another time, I thought to myself. I knew that I would consider revisiting the seller in the future, as she had an impressive collection of quality shoes for both men and ladies. Even though I didn't leave with the shoe I had hoped for, I admired the seller's dedication to providing top-notch footwear and left with a glimmer of hope for finding the perfect pair in the future.

I awoke tired and irritable after a restless night of combating mosquitoes. The insecticide I had used before had proven to be ineffective, leaving me with nothing but frustration. Determined to find a more potent solution, I decided to head out and search for a better insecticide.

The market was bustling with activity, and I found myself surrounded by numerous options, each claiming to be the most efficient at repelling insects. However, I was taken aback by the high prices of most of the products. After browsing through several stalls, I came across an attentive seller who recommended a particular insecticide, boasting of its effectiveness and quick action against mosquitoes.

Though a bit skeptical, I hesitantly purchased the recommended insecticide, hoping that it would indeed live up to its promise. As I made my way home, I felt a glimmer of hope that I had finally found the solution to my mosquito troubles.

Now, I sit in my room, eagerly waiting for the opportune moment to unleash the newly acquired insecticide. As the sun begins to set and the first buzz of mosquitoes fills the air, I hold the bottle tightly, anticipating the impending eradication of these bothersome insects. With a sense of determination, I patiently await the perfect time to spray my room, and I am ready to witness the mosquitoes' dance to their demise.

Last week, the scorching heat became unbearable as the electric supply in my area started fluctuating. I relied on my trusty fan to keep cool, but alas, it fell victim to the power fluctuations, leaving me in a sweat-soaked predicament. The fan, my cherished life-saver during this period of heat, was now out of commission.

After the initial heartbreak, I resolved to economize so I could purchase a new fan. I meticulously budgeted my money for food, savings on transport, and every penny I could save. My budget was tighter than ever, set at a modest fifteen thousand naira.

On Friday, I set out to the market with hopes of finding a replacement fan within my budget. However, to my dismay, I discovered that the lowest price for a reliable fan was twenty-four thousand naira. I couldn't afford to make the purchase on the spot.

Disheartened but undeterred, a newfound humor kindled within me. Pocketing my hard-earned money, I made my way back home. Along the journey, I decided to treat myself by buying some much-needed food supplies. Though I couldn't afford the fan I desperately needed, managing to secure provisions lifted my spirits.

As I returned home, I felt a sense of accomplishment despite the setback. I resolved that the fan would have to wait; I would make do with the stifling heat for a little while longer. After all, the highest I could do was to sleep outside should the nighttime heat become unbearable.

I had a twin sister named Charlotte, we were very much identical.

No one could identify who is who among us except our parents.

But along the line, Charlotte fell sick and died two weeks to her wedding.

But before her death, Charlotte made me and our parents promised her never to announce her death to her fiance (samuel) cause she doesn't want him to be heartbroken.

Charlotte also made a wish to me that she wants me to marry her husband in her place, she wants me to pretend to be her (Charlotte) and get married to Samuel so he won't be aware of her death.

At first I found it awkward to do that, but then I had to fulfil my sisters last wish.

My parents immediately arranged for the wedding so that samuel won't suspect anything.

We lied to samuel that I charity travelled for an important errand for my father and poor samuel believed he was marrying Charlotte because we are identical.

Now few years after marrying samuel and having kids, Charlotte doesn't want to let me be.

She kept appearing in my dream and physically telling me to tell samuel the truth so she can rest in peace.

Now how am I going to bring myself to tell samuel the truth after 5 years of lies and deceit.

As I walked through the school gates, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and contentment. The Christmas break had been a period of frugality for me, and as I returned to school, I was filled with the satisfaction of not having spent much. While my friends and classmates were lamenting over the financial strain brought on by the holidays and worrying about paying off their dues, I reveled in the knowledge that I would be sitting comfortably on a cushion of savings.

I entered the lecture hall with a sense of assurance, knowing that I had managed my finances wisely. I watched as my peers grumbled about over-indulging during the festive season, struggling to make ends meet. As they fretted about their expenses, I found solace in the fact that I had made conscientious choices, carefully curbing my spending to secure my financial stability.

However, the dream of financial security was short-lived. Before I knew it, the expenses of the new semester began gnawing away at my carefully preserved savings. Books, course materials, and miscellaneous fees started adding up, slowly chipping away at the modest fortune I had prided myself on. What began as a comfortable reserve soon dwindled, much to my dismay.

As I sit at my desk, typing away, I can't help but feel a pang of disappointment. The amount I had so diligently set aside for the future now stands at a mere 3000 naira. The reality of the situation is sobering. What once seemed like a substantial safety net now feels modest and precarious, barely enough to cover unexpected expenses.

I remember the day when I bought the power bank. I was so excited to finally have a solution to my phone's battery problems. I spent quite a sum of money on it, but I was okay with it. After all, it was an investment, and I was sure it would serve me for a long time.

However, today, as I was mounting my bike, the power bank slipped out of my backpack and fell on the ground, breaking open and leaving me disappointed. I was paranoid that the fall might have damaged the charging port, rendering it irreparable, and now I may have to budget for a new one.

As I continued on my journey, my mind started racing. I started calculating the cost of a new power bank, and the expenses were something I was not looking forward to. I had already spent so much money, and now, I had to spend even more - it was overwhelming.

After I returned home, I quickly rushed to check if there was any way to fix it, but I was not sure what to do. I plugged in the cord and connected it to my phone, hoping it would work. To my delight, it started charging, and a little joy crept in, relieving all the worries I had been carrying on my head.

Relieved and happy, I realized that it was not damaged after all, and I could continue using it.

But then, as I glance at the power bank here with me as I type, I feel this sadness.
It's been just a while since I bought it and now I'll have to risk losing it any moment. Even though it's still charging my device at the moment but I know I should start budgeting for another.

In the quiet hush of the evening, Timothy and Benjamin, two brothers with worn-out backpacks, strolled down the dimly lit path from school. Little did they know that lurking in the shadows were three strangers, their faces obscured by the approaching night.

Laughter and banter gave way to an unsettling feeling as the strangers closed in, demanding more than the boys were willing to give. In that moment, Timothy, the older and bulkier of the two, stepped forward, a protective big brother ready to shield Benjamin from any harm.

Using his strength, Timothy tried to hold off the attackers, creating a barrier between them and his younger brother. But the odds were against him, and the three strangers, fueled by a darker resolve, overpowered him. The blows fell, and Timothy struggled to keep his feet.
Hope was coming when, out of nowhere, the sound of heavy boots on ground echoed nearby. A soldier appeared, disciplined and resolute. His uniform marked him as a guardian in the night.

With swift and practiced movements, the soldier confronted the assailants. Their courage crumbled in the face of his authority, left with no option, they retreated into the darkness they had emerged from.
As Timothy caught his breath, battered but alive, the soldier turned to the brothers with a nod and a few reassuring words, "You're safe now, lads." In that moment, he wasn't just a soldier; he was a protector, a symbol of safety in a world that had momentarily lost its balance.

Oh, how I yearned to soar through the sky like the birds, to feel the freedom of the open air rushing past my face, and to escape the confines of walking and transportation. It seemed like such a magical experience, and I couldn't help but dream of a day when I could effortlessly glide alongside those magnificent creatures.

One day, as I couldn't hold the desire of flying any more, I started gathering in light objects like banana leafs, palm fronds and other materials soon cluttered my room as I began crafting what resembled a feather. I had no idea how this bunch of rubbish was supposed to lift me into the sky, but in my mind, anything with wings had the potential to fly.

I fashioned a pair of wings, convinced that they held the power to make my lofty dreams come true. Carefully attaching them to a contraption strapped loosely behind my back, I felt an exhilarating mix of hope and trepidation. Today would be the day I would fulfill my fantasy and take flight.

Taking a deep breath, I ascended a sturdy tree, its branches reaching towards the heavens. My heart pounded in my chest as I stood ready to leap into the unknown. With a surge of adrenaline, I threw myself into the air, my wings flapping violently in an attempt to catch the wind.

But alas, reality swiftly brought me back to the ground. I found myself crashing down, landing hard on my buttocks, oh my innocent buttocks. The pain radiated through my body, but mercifully, the soil beneath me was soft, sparing me from more serious injuries. I lay there, disheartened, questioning my misguided attempt to defy the laws of nature.

For the moment, when I was still on the air, I thought that was it, I thought I was flying in that split second. The crash brought me to reality.
Seems like I will cut down watching all these fictional movies.

As a biogas specialist, I was contacted about a year ago when a prospective client who later turned to my client seeks for my expertise to set up a biogas plant for him. He negotiated and I accepted his proposed offer.

The installation took us about three days to complete, we did all the necessary things and left.

Four (4) months later, the same man called for urgent help.

Why?

During the period we were setting up his own personal biogas plant in his farm. I noticed his eyes were fixed all through on us, so this man was trying to actually tap our knowledge so he can fix for his farmer colleagues and get paid for the job done. So when he contacted me the second time he revealed what happened, how he got a contract and could not get the desired results. He pleaded for help so as not to spoil his face among his colleagues, but you know what? I charged him double the amount because he had already damaged everything.
He was too greedy and played too smart. He could have humbly approached me to train him how to set up biogas.

My hand shook at each strike. The muscular insect or whatsoever it is still charged at me with its sharp tail set and ready to inject me again with its toxins if I should come closer.

I had struck it to coma when I lifted it with a tissue paper and headed towards the kitchen.
I was going to teach the muscular man how to keep boundaries.
I felt uneasyness at the spot that it had stung me as I placed the specimen carefully on my gas burner.

Carefully, I turned loose the handle of the gas cooker and watched as the scorpion reacted to the hushing sound of the gas escaping the noozle of the cylinder.

Slowly, I moved my lighter closer, and with a click, I got the scorpion dancing to all directions.
I allowed the barbeque burn to dryness before I picked and tossed it outside for the birds.

Last semester, my classmates and I had just finished studying and writing an exam on metabolism. After the exam, we all logged onto our departmental group chat to discuss our experience and share our thoughts about the questions. It seemed like everyone was in agreement - the exam questions were ridiculously easy!

We chuckled and teased each other about how we had anticipated a challenging test, but ended up breezing through it without breaking a sweat. The group chat was buzzing with excitement as we proudly claimed our victory over the exam. We even joked about how our professor must have given us an unexpected gift with such straightforward questions.

Little did we know, our celebrations were premature. Today, the exam results were released, and to our dismay, nearly 80% of the class had scored either an "E" or an "F" grade. Shocked and confused, I couldn't wrap my head around the dismal outcome of the exam. How could the same questions that we had breezed through result in such poor performance?

As I write this, my phone incessantly buzzes with new notifications from the group chat. Each message holds a lament from a classmate, expressing their disbelief and frustration. It seems like we're spiraling into a cycle of disappointment and confusion, desperately seeking answers for our unexpected grades.

The group chat has now become a battleground of emotions. Every two minutes, new messages flood in, each one lamenting the unfairness of the exam and questioning our professor's intentions. The once cheerful atmosphere has transformed into a cloud of gloom and frustration as we try to console and support each other in our collective disappointment.

Hello family, so I'm going to make this story shorter than usual as I'm having a little headache, please do stone me with likes as you have always done.

It was one of those evenings when the sun had hidden its glory beneath the clutches of the tick clouds when sounds go far as the day comes to an end.
I tossed my bag on the bed and headed to the kitchen to get a little gift for the tummy.
In minutes, I felt fulfilled and needed a nap but then, there was this little record I needed to take down before I dozed.

Too lazy to use the table, I spread the sheets on the rug, and just when I was about to stretch my legs which felt a little uncomfortable by what I thought was a mere ant, my leg was struck.

I would say by lightning, but there were no thunderbolts,
was there a naked wire lying around? I asked myself as I rubbed the spot in pain bending to take a closer look at the area where my leg had been.

It held its muscular tail up and was ready to strike again, it was a scorpion.
Another wave of shock rushed down at the sight of the arachnid, I had never been stung by a scorpion before.

The broom was close and I didn't find it difficult to lift twice as I landed two blows on the...

I'll continue this story later dear friends, please leave a like

As I prepared for school the next day, I meticulously took out my school uniform from my wardrobe. I could already imagine the long day ahead, filled with classwork, exams, and laughter with friends. So, to start my day on the right foot, I decided to give my uniform a little extra attention.

First, I took out the iron and plugged it in, letting it heat up until it was ready to give my uniform that crisp, polished look. Carefully, I placed the white shirt on the ironing board, making sure it was spread out flat and primed for perfection. With a determined mindset, I ran the iron back and forth, smoothing out any creases or wrinkles in the fabric.

Once satisfied with the shirt, I reached for a bottle of scented oil on my dresser. I loved the idea of bringing a pleasant fragrance to my uniform, making me feel a little more confident and refreshed throughout the day. I delicately sprayed some of the scented oil onto the neatly ironed shirt, relishing in the sweet aroma that now enveloped it.

Yet, there was a tiny imperfection that caught my eye. It was a small rumple on the sleeves, a minuscule detail that most people probably wouldn't even notice. But instead of leaving it be, I couldn't resist the urge to correct it. I carefully unbuttoned the sleeves, gently pulling them down to access the stubborn creases. Once again, the iron was hot and waiting, and I glided it over the sleeves, intent on eliminating every last wrinkle.

However, in my zealous pursuit of perfection, disaster struck. As I pressed the iron against the rumpled sleeves, perhaps a bit too forcefully, a sizzling sound filled the room and a distinct smell of burnt fabric wafted through the air. My heart sank as I realized what had happened – I had underestimated the sensitivity of the white shirt.

Frantically, I unplugged the iron and inspected the damage. To my dismay, there was now a small, darkened patch where the iron had come into contact with the fabric. My hopes of a flawlessly crisp uniform were dashed in an instant.

In that moment, I couldn't help but feel a mix of frustration and regret. I had let my determination to correct a minor flaw lead to an even bigger mishap. But alas, there was no time to dwell on the mistake. With a sigh, I hung the burnt shirt aside and reached for my spare, knowing that my day at school would now include a slight detour to the lost and found section.

had been looking forward to the practical test for days. I had prepared meticulously, going over every detail and equation until I was sure that I knew everything inside and out. My excitement had reached an all-time high, as I packed my bag and set out to arrive at the venue before time.

As I arrived at the practical hall, I couldn't help but feel the rush of anticipation and nerves coursing through my veins. After waiting around for nearly an hour and overcoming several tussles with jostling students, I finally entered the hall.

However, as I looked around, I couldn't help but feel a sense of confusion. None of the familiar faces were present in the room, and all around me were people I had never seen before. My heart sank, and an overwhelming dread began to consume me.

But I tried to shake it off and focus on the task at hand. I threw myself into the practical with enthusiasm, determined to do my best. The hours passed by in a blur, and I was surprised to find myself deep into the process before I realized that things weren't quite right.

It was then that the coordinator walked into the hall and made an announcement, one that would shatter my hopes and dreams. The practical, it turned out, was not meant for third-year students like myself. The test I had been slaving over for days was for 200 level students only.

All the excuses in the world wouldn't change the situation, and I was left with no choice but to pack up my belongings, downheartedly. As I made my way home, the disappointment I felt turned into exhaustion, and I could feel myself starting to come down with a sickness.