Backfire/Gone-wrong Stories & Experiences

The first time I moved into the hostel, I never once considered that people could be so mean and cruel. After washing my clothes, I approached the public line to hang them up, only to find that all the lines were occupied, leaving no space for my things.

As I touched some of the clothes already hanging there, I realized they were dry. I decided to carefully move them to one side to create some space. I stacked the dry clothes neatly and spread out my new uniform, my selection of white shirts on the line I had just cleared for myself.

I felt a sense of happiness and satisfaction once I was done. However, when I went inside and returned two hours later, I was shocked to see my clothes and white shirts lying on the ground. Someone had taken the clothes I had moved aside and thrown my garments onto the ground. I was deeply disappointed.

From that day henceforth, I usually woke up very early each time that I wanted to wash my clothes with the lines free at that time of the morning.

I have been complaining of blood shortage for a while and even collected money for blood tonic but unfortunately, I used it for another purpose. Only lately i wanted to cook veggies and a lot of it, so i was like, Oh! This knife is so blunt 😂 and my Senior sis was laughing at me that look at you 😂, is that knife not sharp enough? I was like No! It is not. So i went ahead and sharpen it to my satisfaction. While i was at it, slicing the veggies and feeling good, Boom!!!! It happened 😫. What exactly happened? I lost focus. How did it happen? At my peace, in my comfort and at my own pace, i was focused on the veggies and slicing with all sweetness, someone came to call me seeking my attention and i lost focus. So looking back, i sliced my finger alongside the veggies and then it dawn on me 😂. My finger !!! blood !!! 😂 I lamented but then another thing is that I already have blood without even taking tonic but i got a sour kitchen experience that fateful day.

Wearing white clothes is something that I usually liked, but then I had a female friend who usually advised me against wearing white clothes, wearing white shirts and white trousers. But this particular day, we were going for a party, so after checking through my clothing, I decided to wear this particular white native shirt.

After I wore this shirt, I went for the party, and I was enjoying myself. It was a daytime party shop and it was organized by my school and friends. It was during the noon, around 3 PM, that we decided to head out to another different location. Then I looked at my wife, and I couldn't even place a term to what I was looking like.

Some red wine had spilled on my shirt, and I had spoiled my trousers and everything. I couldn't even relate. I was just buried, and I wanted to go home even though I was having a great time. I just wanted to see myself at home.

There’s a popular spot on my street where people gather to smoke, drink beer, and vibe to loud music, especially at night. It’s always lively with men parking their cars, ordering pepper soup, and turning the area into a mini club. Tonight was no different, except there was no electricity, so the place was poorly lit. I had just returned from buying some fruits and decided to walk past the area.

As I got closer, I noticed three guys standing near the edge of the gutter, probably waiting for someone or just chilling. The darkness made it hard to see clearly, but I could make out their silhouettes. As I approached, one of them decided to step back, maybe to make way for me or just adjust his stance. Unfortunately for him, his foot missed the ground, and he fell straight into the gutter.

I froze for a second, trying to process what just happened. I wanted to laugh so badly, but I knew I couldn’t. Instead, I kept a straight face and walked past as if I didn’t see anything.

Honestly, if I were the guy, I wouldn’t even bother coming out of that gutter. I’d just stay there until everyone left. The fall was so brutal that I could feel the embarrassment from a distance. It’s one of those moments where you pray the ground opens up and swallows you whole.

Most people do have this belief that the end of a year, and the beginning of a year is meant to be accompanied by tragic incidents, that will claim lives and leaving shocking damages, so it seems, but there are ones that can be avoided. There is this man I normally fill my gas cylinder with, he also welds and repairs fridges and cylinders with leakages. He made top headlines of recent, people say it's manipulation from the spirit realm, I'm not sure of what it is.

On the first week of January, 2025, this man as usual went about his normal business of filling and repairing gas cylinders. His workplace is right in front of house. I don't know what he was thinking, but he welded a cylinder that is filled up with gas, and you know the implications. The cylinder exploded, fire surged through all that premises and killed three people instantly; the owner of the cylinder who is a teenage girl, a man and his son in their shop close by.

The man himself didn't die, but was burnt badly, including his wife and son, the fire caught up anything that was around that place, including house. As at now, the wife and son are still at the hospital, the man is undergoing medical treatment under police custody. Because of it, all roadside gas fillers in this region has been banned for now, till further notice. People's opinion on the matter are much, with some saying it's carelessness, spiritual manipulation, tragic incident that comes with a new year.

I feel pity for the man, no one will do such a thing a purpose, it was a mistake, a costly one. But come to think of it, how will someone with many years experience of filling and repairing cylinders, make such an expensive mistake, that's where people draw their view of spiritual manipulation. Everyone knows that a filled cylinder shouldn't be exposed to fire, but the owner of the cylinder went to weld it, was she manipulated too? You see you can't really say exactly what it is, you can only give opinion.

The more reason you need to start the year with God, and end the year with God. Carefulness, diligence and knowledge about things we deal with still remains the watch word in everything we do, and with God fully involved, I don't think we will have things go wrong like this. I strongly believe that this incident could have been avoided.

After spending Christmas with my parents, I returned to Lagos, and as expected, January came with ridiculous price hikes. But this time, it was unbearable. At the market, onions were being sold as if they were gold. I begged the woman selling them, hoping to get a fair deal, but she refused to budge. I finally managed to buy just one onion and moved on, hoping the other things I needed wouldn’t be as bad.

When I asked for vegetable leaves, the seller handed me a tiny bundle and said it was ₦500. Normally, that same bundle, with more leaves, would have cost around ₦200. I couldn’t believe it. Everything just felt upside down. It was like every seller had decided to double their prices overnight. I thought about all the meals I had planned, and it hit me that cooking in Lagos had become a luxury.

To make things worse, the gas cylinder I had just filled felt like a complete waste of money. What’s the use of gas when there’s hardly anything to cook? Frustrated, I dropped everything I had planned to buy and settled for a loaf of bread. It wasn’t what I wanted, but it was all I could afford.

If you all remember, I wrote a story about my project supervisor and how untalented he was when it came to our meeting schedules. His indolent nature had always deprived us of making progress with our project and seminar work. Knowing this, I proposed submitting a formal letter to address both his laziness and his indifferent behavior toward our work.

After I got in contact with the staff member in charge of student affairs, she advised me to approach my project supervisor gently. She also suggested that she would join in to help encourage him to be more engaged in our meetings.

Following her advice, I arranged a casual meeting with my supervisor, expressing appreciation for his guidance while subtly mentioning the issues we had been facing.

After I had the meeting with him, it became clear that he wasn't acting differently or making significant progress regarding our work. As a group, we decided that it would be better for us to work individually and improve our projects, unlike other groups that were having regular meetings with their supervisors who provided them with guidance and instructions. In our case, we received no specific instructions from him, aside from his attempts to correct our work. Simply coming to school to review our progress appeared to be a major inconvenience for him, resulting in us waiting countless times and weeks without complaints, as we were all just students.

I struggle even now to express my concerns. The main issue arose when it was announced that we would be presenting and defending our seminar work a few weeks after the Christmas celebration. I reached out to him to request that he come and sign our approval form, but he informed me that he wouldn't be returning anytime soon and didn't offer any suggestions.

On the day of the seminar defense, I contacted him by phone, only to have him turn the situation around on us. He claimed that we had been unserious all along and said he had been begging us to take our work seriously. His statement offended me, especially since I was speaking to him through my phone at that moment. It really pissed me off.

To make matters worse, he reached out to other panel members who were judging the seminar defense and recording scores, telling them that we weren't serious. The only approval he granted was for a girl he was interested in, claiming she was the only one who took her work seriously. However, I knew very well that this girl was not serious at all. In fact, that same morning, she had sent me her seminar work to help her arrange into slides. Her references were poorly done, and her outline was terrible. Despite this, I helped her as much as I could and advised her to meet with a cyber cafe expert the following morning, which she did.

Now, we were not able to do our presentations, and I’m still reflecting on the whole experience and the best action to take at this point.

I got a new phone over the last two weeks, and I enjoyed using it. I wasn't sure about the system UI and other features of the phone at first, but it turned out to be very nice. It has good RAM and good ROM, and its processing unit is top-notch.

I liked everything about the phone except for three things. First, the battery doesn't last as long as those of Infinix and Redmi phones. The other thing was that it heated up a little bit when I multitasked on the phone. The third thing, which is the most frustrating for me, is that I couldn't find a protective pouch for the phone. Even the screen guard isn't available in the market; they say the edition of the phone is limited. I bought this phone at a high price, and I can't risk it falling to the ground.

Since the phone and its spare parts aren't available anywhere near this market, I find it hard to be truly happy about getting a new phone. If anything happens to my phone’s screen or the touchpad, I’ll be spending a lot.

With prices having doubled, ordering parts online from branches or headquarters in Lagos will cost me a significant amount—approximately 30% of the phone's price and I’m not willing to take that risk again. I’ve already invested a lot in buying the phone, and I don’t feel that I should spend more if anything goes wrong with it. Besides, I simply don’t have the money for that.

I went to buy some rice from the market. When I got there, the price was actually like two times the former price, but I already had an idea of this because I had bought rice in the small market on my street. I expected that in the larger market, the price shouldn't be that costly, but I was puzzled to find out that it was almost the same price as those selling in my street.

After I got my rice, I made sure to ask the seller if the rice had any dirt or stones in it, and she assured me that it did not. Then in the evening, I was feeling hungry, so I decided to cook some jollof rice for myself. I had just washed the rice properly and put it into the pot when I noticed that some rice husk was floating on top of the rice. It surprised me because the seller had assured me there wouldn't be any dirt. I scooped out the floating bits, thinking it wasn't a big deal.

I used a sieve to strain out most of the husk and hoped that would be the only problem. Once I was done cooking my rice, it actually came out very sweet, and the aroma filled the air. I was about to eat when I took my first bite, only to realize that there were about two stones in the spoon of rice I had taken. It shocked me; I took another bite, and the stones made it impossible for me to really enjoy the flavor.

I had paid a higher price for this rice, expecting it to be fine and free from any impurities, especially since it was costlier than the one that had chaff or husk. Now, I found myself having to pick through my rice before cooking it, even though I had already paid for the one that was supposed to be picked and fine.

The dangling empty palm wine cups hung above an omu leaf (palm frond) placed at the entrance of the shrine had retraced my thoughts from my past experiences back to the shrine where I was seated. It was in the late hours of the day. Nevertheless, I was determined to get a solution to my problems.

I watched baba as he bent below-walking out of his inner chamber backwards towards my direction. A clay pot of liquid substance held in his right hand. "You shall sleep in a graveyard for three days. With that, your problems will be over," he broke the silence. Then sat on a mortal.

"How? Isn't there another remedy?" Disbelief and anxiety were all written on my face like a child scribbling on a piece of paper. He stood up from a mortal already turned upside down-the reflection of the portable lantern lit beside a human skull before me enabled me to see the white chalk beneath his eyes. He wore a wicked countenance.

"That is your only solution and you must adhere to it, because I've consulted the gods already," he thundered then made his way to his inner chamber. I rustled my feet out of the shrine after a while. It felt as though I was going crazy, the thoughts of sleeping in a graveyard with evil spirits and dead bodies frightened me that I had to walk back to the shrine to plead for baba to allow me sleep in his shrine; I couldn't walk gently into that cold night.

Just take a look at Jennifer, my course mate, extremely beautiful with nice curves. Whereas, I was the opposite. I was given several ugly nicknames that threw me into depression and envy towards Jennifer. I was never in the category of "The beautiful ones". I wanted to be like her or even better than her, I desired for those attention she normally gets from random guys including her male friends. For months, I battled with inferiority complex and that was why I walked into the shrine to seek for solutions; I need to be more pretty than Jennifer.

I sank in my thoughts and soon, sleep clouded my eyes. Two days later, I headed straight to a graveyard far away from my lodge. I went that far in order for my room mates not to have a clue of my whereabout. I walked into the graveyard, quietly peeping through the thick darkness in search of a place to lay my head. Bones sat dangerously beside a rusted coffin. Fear gripped me.

Finally, I found a resting place. Although, close to a thick forest. My stay in the graveyard wasn't an easy thing. I was tormented by evil spirits every now and then. They took turns coercing me to drink several mixtures and blood from a filthy old pot, threatening to take my life if I refused to obey them. Three days seemed like one month in the graveyard.

When the three days elapsed, I walked home feeling nauseous, the boils on my face grew bigger each day that I almost died. I couldn't breathe easily, my body system changed drastically and several incurable diseases were found in my body system.

You're not defined by what people say about you, don't give a listening ear to those who try to make you feel less of yourself. Beauty doesn't apply to physical appearance alone; you're beautiful inward and outward so don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Love yourself and never stop appreciating your uniqueness.

It wasn't like I stayed for the holiday long in my home; I actually just stayed a week. But upon returning, I noticed something that shocked me and pulled me off my feet. It was a shocking sight.

As I saw the packet of spaghetti that I had reserved for myself all littered on the ground, my heart sank. I had left about five packs of spaghetti, and I was only seeing two intact. The other three were in shreds. It was a rat. A rat had come into my home and destroyed things this way. I wondered about the root or the hole they had come in from, but that wasn't my main concern at the moment.

First, I had to do my cleanup, and the kitchen was the most troubling part. It was really tiring, especially since I had returned late from my journey back home to where I resided close to school.

Well, just today, as luck might have it, I noticed something making a sound in my kitchen. I went in, and to my dismay, I found that the remaining two packets of spaghetti had been disturbed. The rat was gone. The rat was gone. The rat was gone. The rat was gone. The rat was gone. The rat was gone.

I took note that the rat was still in the house, so I prepared myself as I listened for any slightest sounds. I was just about to sleep when I heard another sound, so I picked up my broom and opened my kitchen door, waiting for it to run out. It didn't, so I hit the broom against the door, making a very loud noise, and then the rat came to where I stood. It was trying to escape through the door before my broom landed on it.

It was one of those days when a simple task turned into a long adventure. My friend asked me to join him in towing a car from a nearby village back to the city. It sounded straightforward enough (a 3-4 hour journey, max). Since we left early and had no time to eat, I packed some rice and stew with a bottle of water to keep me going.

We hadn’t even reached the car we were supposed to tow when our own vehicle started acting up. Out of nowhere, it just stopped in the middle of the road. We got down, struggled with a few things, and after some time, we managed to fix it. Relieved, we continued the journey, laughing about how we couldn’t afford any more delays.

Barely thirty minutes later, the car battery gave up on us. My friend, always the joker, laughed and said, “Are we sure we won’t need another towing vehicle to tow this one?” At the time, it was funny, and we laughed it off. Little did we know that his joke would become reality soon enough.

Sure enough, the car completely broke down before we could even reach the village. We had no choice but to call for help. Another towing vehicle came, but instead of towing the car we originally came for, it had to tow ours to a nearby mechanic.

What was supposed to be a 3-hour journey turned into a frustrating 10-hour work. By the time we got home, we were exhausted, dusty, and hungry.

My family people never cooked coconut rice while I was growing up; it was just never on our menu. I often heard rumors about people preparing it, and during visits to some aunts and uncles, I would sample their coconut rice. Though I didn’t fancy it very much, it wasn’t bad at all. It had a certain classiness about it, tasted nice, and felt a little simpler compared to the spiced richness of Jollof rice or the vegetables in fried rice.

Growing up, I never got around to asking my mum why she hadn’t cooked coconut rice for the family. But as I learned more about cooking, the curiosity to try making it myself grew stronger. So, I finally decided to experiment with coconut rice.

I went to the market, determined to gather everything I needed. I asked a friend to explain how to cook it for me, eager to get started on this dish
So I began to cook it, following the same procedures that she had given me on WhatsApp. I was cooking and cooking, and the aroma I was getting was similar to the one from coconut rice that I had tasted elsewhere. But then, after I took my pot off the heat, I went down the street and bought a bottle of drink to make the meal a bit more interesting.
As I took my first bite from the spoon, I hated rice for the first time in my life. I just hated rice in general because the cooking had gone so badly, and it even tasted bitter.
In this current economy, I had to waste the pot of rice, I can't get over the pain.

We wanted to buy some fireworks for the New Year. Usually, during the New Year, we always launch fireworks in our compound to make it a memorable time. So, we went for a short market trip to get these fireworks about a day before the New Year celebration. I went there with my friend, he was more like a brother. He's my friend, not in any way related, but we were like brothers though.

We arrived at the market with a budgeted amount, hoping that even if prices had gone up, it wouldn't exceed what we had. We were prepared for the costs, but then we were surprised and shocked when we got to the market and realized it wasn't the case at all.

It was as if we were watching movie when the seller called out an outrageous price for just one firework. I looked him in the eye, watching his lips as he mouthed the amount he intended to sell those fireworks for. I tried to negotiate with him, but he insisted it was a fixed price. At that moment, we couldn't help but think he was trying to scam us; fireworks shouldn't cost that much.

Determined to find a better deal, we trekked down to another shop that sold fireworks and other items. To our shock, the prices there were even higher than what the first seller had stated.
With our budget now stretched, we decided it was time to rethink our plans. Instead of buying four fireworks as we had initially intended, we concluded we would only get two, and even that would leave us with little money left. It was a tough decision, but we wanted to make sure we could still enjoy the celebration in some way.

There was this pair of shoes I saw online and wanted to gift myself. I had saved some money for it, and let me tell you about the amount. I bought them for #22,000. They were Nike shoes, a style I knew would suit me perfectly. I had already picked my shoe size and submitted the order to an online vendor.

Now, I don’t know why, but online vendors usually disappoint me. However, I gave my details to this particular vendor because she came highly recommended. A friend of mine had prescribed her for me, so I trusted her. I was excited to patronize her after seeing the exact shoes that I desired and would love to wear for one celebration like that.

I had planned to go somewhere special with these shoes, and they matched my dress code perfectly for the occasion. Two days passed without any delivery from the vendor, and I began to worry. I thought to myself, What if I don’t receive the shoes in time for the celebration?.
I realized I needed to seek for a refund before things gets out of hand and already I have my money back.

On my way home, I stumbled upon a new relaxation spot that looked recently built. It wasn’t there the last time I passed by, and it caught my attention. I decided to sit down for a bit with my two younger sisters, just to take a breather. The place was quiet, with only a few people around, and it seemed like a peaceful spot to relax after a long day.

While we were chatting, a scruffy-looking man suddenly walked up to us. He looked unkempt, with a cigarette dangling from his fingers, and his face had a strange expression. He told us we weren’t allowed to sit there, but his tone didn’t sound official. I figured he was drunk or just trying to act important, so I brushed him off and told my sisters to ignore him.

Things took a different turn when he reached out and tried to grab my youngest sister’s hand. At that moment, I stood up immediately and blocked him. I told him calmly but firmly to leave us alone. He acted like he wanted to make a scene, puffing his chest and pretending to be tough, but when I didn’t back down, he hesitated. He looked around awkwardly and eventually walked away, muttering to himself.

We sat there for a while longer, but the incident left us feeling uneasy. It was strange and unnecessary, and I couldn’t figure out why he acted that way. After some time, we decided to leave the place and head home. I was just grateful nothing worse happened, and we all stayed safe.

I was going to church with my aunt when we encountered a car on the roadside. It was only about 6 a.m., and we were curious about what it was doing on that back street, where nothing was open and there was hardly any activity. We were baffled by the abandoned vehicle.

When we arrived at church, just before the mass ended, the news broke. The man who had driven that car had already been electrocuted. He had gone there to steal transformer cables, and when the power was restored, it had electrocuted him. As I sat in the church, I couldn't help but reflect on his tragic fate. I imagined the panic and fear he must have felt in those final moments. It made me think deeply about the choices we make and the risks we take.

I imagined how this man who had lost his life must have calculated what he had to do with the money and all. But then here he was, electrocuted and drained of his blood. What could one say about his family, who were waiting for him at home, just because he wanted to steal? Always, nothing good comes from evil. Good is repaid for good, and evil is repaid for evil. It isn't his first time, I guess. But now he has been caught, and he will never have to steal cables again.
Still, I feel remorseful for him and his family. A cable has cost him his life. Though the cable costs a significant amount of money, exceeding over 1 million Naira in this current economy, it’s not worth it. It's not worth it.

can still remember vividly that I was about seven years old when I first encountered a snake. It was a beautiful green snake that lived around our construction site, which was an ongoing building project my father was overseeing. One day, as I was playing around the lowgrowing grasses on the site, I suddenly noticed something unusual green design against the wall.

As I drew closer, I realized it was a snake. Surprisingly, I didn’t panic at all. It was my first time seeing a snake up close—truly my first encounter. While I had seen snakes in movies and watched others being killed, I had never realized how stunning they could be, especially this enchanting green one. Its tongue flicked in and out, small me? I found it it entertaining.I was about to pick up a stick and touch the snake when my father appeared out of nowhere. I had no idea he was around. Thankfully, he caught sight of everything just in time and shouted my name. That jolted me back to reality, and I ran through the entrance of the building.

It was the seventh day since the construction had started, and as they reduced some pile of building blocks, the sliddering creature must had seemed another comfort zone. My dad brought a bamboo stick and with that, he was able to get rid of the snake.

It was my first time moving to this new location, having relocated from my former apartment to this building. On my first day there, the weather was delightful; it didn’t rain, and everything felt cool and comforting. However, the very next day, the skies opened up, and that was one of the most challenging times in my life.

Rain poured down relentlessly, and I soon discovered that the roof of my apartment was in terrible condition. Water started seeping in, and it wasn’t just a few drips here and there; it was gushing through the cracks. I watched helplessly as water pooled on my bedside and cascaded onto my bed. It was a disastrous situation.

That night, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep as I battled to control the incoming water. I tried to reposition my bed, hoping to find a dry spot, but it seemed that no matter where I moved it, water droplets continued to leak from that angle.

When I got tired of the whole process, I decided to go and meet the landlord. When I met with him, this man wasn't making any sense. He told me that I would have to pay for it, even after I'd already spent a significant amount trying to move into a new apartment. Everybody in Nigeria knows that house agents often siphon money from their clients, and I had already spent a lot—nearly twice the amount of the lodging fees. So, I wasn't willing to spend any more money on anything related to the building itself. I tried to make my landlord understand this, but he wouldn’t budge. He insisted that I pay, fully aware that I had no other option. It was stated in the house agreement that once you moved in, there would be no refunds. This was a tough situation for me.

Well, two days passed, and I had to contact his specialist for help to fix the water leakage on the roof.

We were on a bus heading to Asata, when suddenly we noticed the vehicle ahead of us start to malfunction. We could see the driver struggling to control the car, but he couldn’t manage it. Upon closer inspection, I realized that one of the car's tires had already sprung out from its socket and was rolling down the road.

The driver couldn’t see the tire loss; he was still trying to balance the vehicle. Miraculously, the car didn’t flop or sag at the point where the tire was lost. It instead bounced up and down and moved uncontrollably, but somehow, it never fell over.

I prayed silently, not only for the lives in that vehicle but also for God not to let me witness a tragic event during this period.
I thought about the occupants family mbers and what they had as plans, and this made me plead more to God not to permit the plans of the enemies to prevail.

We thanked God for this tiny miracle, and our driver decided to overtake the malfunctioning vehicle. We had to inform him about the situation. He quickly stopped, and together, we expressed our gratitude, thanking God for our safety and for everything we still have.

For the first time, I traveled from Bayelsa to my state, and I had planned to get there before 5pm sharp. Everything was supposed to go smoothly, but the transport company had a different script in mind. The journey started well, but soon after, the driver began stopping at random locations to deliver items. It felt like we were on a delivery run, not a passenger bus. I was frustrated, but little did I know, that was just the beginning of our troubles.

The bus started breaking down, not once, not twice, but multiple times along the way. To make matters worse, the traffic was terrible, and before we could process what was happening, it was already 9pm, and we were still in Aba far from our destination. The delay was getting unbearable, and you could see the worry and frustration on the passengers' faces. Everyone just wanted to get home.

The driver, however, was determined to reach our state before the next day, no matter what. He kept driving late into the night, pushing through even though he was tired. By then, my family had started calling non-stop, asking where I was and if I was safe. I could only assure them that I was fine, but deep down, I was also worried. It was a tense atmosphere in the bus as everyone silently prayed to reach their destination without any more issues.

Finally, we arrived at 11pm. It wasn’t funny at all. The delay, the breakdowns, and the late-night driving had everyone worried. My family was relieved to see me, and I was just thankful the long journey was over. It’s an experience I won’t forget in a hurry, but honestly, I hope it’s one I never have to repeat.