Backfire/Gone-wrong Stories & Experiences

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.

Malachy was known as the notorious flirt during his school days, his charm and smooth talks made many girls fall for him, but he didn't care about anyone's feelings. Once he got what he wanted from them, he dumped them without a second thought.

People tried to advise him and told him that karma would one day catch up with him, but he never listened. He always replied with the statement that he was going to settle down with the most perfect girl for a wife, and he firmly believed that it would happen.

Years went by, and Malachy met Chika, a girl who he thought was perfection and the answer to his prayers. She was honest, beautiful, and had all the qualities he had been looking for in a woman.

Malachy was determined to make Chika his wife, and he showered her with love and gifts. Chika fell in love with him, and they got married in a grand ceremony.

Things started off well, but soon enough, Malachy began to see a different side of Chika. She was not the perfect person he thought she was, she was manipulative and selfish. She started selling his properties behind his back and embezzling his money.

Malachy was devastated and heartbroken, he couldn't believe that the person he loved and thought was his perfect wife could be capable of such actions. He confronted her, but she wasn't remorseful or apologetic. Instead, she eloped with all his money, leaving Malachy alone with nothing.

Malachy's world came crashing down, and he realized that karma had indeed caught up with him. He had hurt many girls in the past, and now he was experiencing the same betrayal and pain.

As I lay in bed, trying to catch some sleep after a long day, I started to hear the sound of buzzing around my ears. At first, I thought it was just a fly and clap it away with my hands, but then I realized it was a mosquito.

As the night progressed, the buzzing got louder and more annoying, and I began to feel the bites on my skin. I tried to ignore it, hoping that I could sleep through it, but it was impossible. I was tossing and turning, slapping at the mosquitoes, using pillowcases to cover my head, but all my efforts were in vain.

As I lay there, frustrated, I wished for a second chance to go back home and grab my mosquito net. I made a mental note to purchase one at the nearest store first thing in the morning.

I was surprised to hear peaceful snores coming from my neighbours' rooms, who had probably long since adjusted to the constant buzzing in the background and the bites on their skin. This made me even more irritated and angrier at the mosquitoes that were tormenting me. I couldn't believe how I had taken mosquito-free nights for granted.

Finally, the night passed into morning, and I got up, exhausted and irritated with the mosquito bites all over my body. I quickly moved to the nearest store to buy the much-needed mosquito net. That simple net completely changed my life. I was finally able to sleep peacefully, without the constant buzzing and biting. You can never enjoy this story if you hadn't had the experience before

As she was walking down the quiet street towards her apartment, she noticed a man walking towards her. Instinctively, she crossed the street, hoping to avoid any confrontation. But the man followed her, and before Kosiso knew it, he had snatched her laptop and disappeared into the night.

Kosiso was devastated. All her hard-earned money had gone to waste, and she felt violated that someone had taken something she treasured so much. She felt afraid and betrayed that someone could steal from her so easily.

The next day, Kosiso mustered up the courage to file a police report. Although she knew it was unlikely that she would ever see her laptop again, she still felt a sense of relief that she had taken the first step in seeking justice.

As she left the police station, feeling exhausted and deflated, she noticed a group of children playing with makeshift soccer balls on the street. Despite her sadness, she couldn't help but smile at their laughter and enthusiasm.

Kosiso approached the children and started a conversation with them. Before she knew it, they had invited her to join in their game. Kosiso gladly obliged, forgetting about her worries and immersing herself in the joy of the moment.

In that moment, Kosiso realized that although the laptop was valuable, it was the experiences, the memories, and the connections she built with the people around her that truly mattered. She may have been robbed of material possessions, but she had gained something far more valuable: a renewed appreciation for the little moments of joy and connection that make life worth living.

Always be conscious when you walk.

Parents should not deviate from the normal disciplinary measures of training their children just because they left their home in the village to come live in the city.

Met a girl named Amara yesterday while trying to purchase something and the way this girl acted got me and I couldn't help.

I already ordered a roll of burgers and a soda to wash down the junk and the woman was struggling with the nylon bag when a fat, fair, and short lady in her early teens entered the canteen and started confronting the woman for having sold to her an expired product.

Yes, it was fair to complain, but the way she addressed this elderly woman was just out of place. Claiming she could have arrested her if it was in Lagos. She shouted at the woman to shut up when she tried to explain to her that the expiry date was still in a month.

I struck her face when she was just about dabbing the elderly and brushed her to the floor.
She wouldn't stop still. She claimed that her family had influence and all that and threatened me.
But come on, you are good off but you can't get over the fact that the little junk of #200 was stale?

With the help of other people around, they forced her to leave and never come close to the school canteen again.

The morning began with a hushed calmness and a hopeful atmosphere. As I opened my eyes, I couldn't shake off the underlying tension that gripped me. We had a daunting exam looming over us, scheduled for 11 am, and on top of that, an intricate assignment had to be handed in that very morning.

I was engrossed in the assignment, consumed by the fear of disappointing the strict individual who had assigned it to us. Due to this, I sacrificed my time for reading and studying. The result was an inadequate preparation as I couldn't dedicate enough time to gather the necessary knowledge.

I found myself fervently working on the assignment from 4 in the morning until approximately 11:53 am. Just as I was submerged in the task, absorbed in every word, my phone startled me with a call. It was a friend informing me that our peers were already being ushered into the exam hall. Panic set in, forcing me to abandon my work in haste and sprint towards the examination venue.

Exhausted and flustered from rushing, I commenced the exam. However, I quickly realize that my lack of preparation had left me vulnerable. The questions and concepts became unfamiliar, and I struggled to conjure up the appropriate responses. It was disheartening to grasp that my limited reading had compromised my ability to perform well.

To add salt to the wound, news broke that the submission date for the assignment had been extended until the following Tuesday. The flurry of mixed feelings washed over me, a strange blend of relief and regret. It felt as though all my efforts and time had been squandered unnecessarily. The opportunity to allocate more time and energy towards the assignment had been taken away, leaving a lingering sense of waste.

In the quiet aftermath that followed, I couldn't help but reflect on the events of that day.

Once upon a time, there was a guy named Maxwell, and he had a special friend named Toiyo. They were like peas in a pod, always together, and everyone thought they would get married someday because they were so happy together.
But then, after seven years of being super happy, something strange happened. Toiyo started talking to Maxwell less and less, and she seemed different. When Maxwell asked her what was wrong, she said everything was okay, but it didn't feel okay to Maxwell.

One day, Maxwell decided to surprise Toiyo with a beautiful bouquet of her favorite flowers. He went to her house, knocked on the door, and when she opened it, she looked surprised and a little guilty. There, in her living room, he saw a picture of her with another guy. Maxwell's heart sank.
He asked Toiyo about the picture, and she told him the truth. She was engaged to the guy in the picture, who lived in another country. Maxwell felt like his heart was breaking into pieces. He begged Toiyo not to go, but she had already promised to marry the other guy.

Maxwell learnt to be okay without Toiyo. It was really hard for him because they had such a good time together. It's like their story was really good, but then it got all mixed up, and Maxwell was left feeling really, really sad. But he knew that someday, he would find happiness again, even if it felt far away for now.

I was glistening with joy and my face should joy and confidence. With friends talking, you easily spotted out my voice and loud laughter.

I was prepared for the exam. Had all reasons to remain confident, expecting a smooth easy paper. It wasn't an easy task but I was able to finish the course outline a night before.

After we were admitted into the exam center, we were seated in a well spaced pattern. Voices heard were distance and faint when the exam started.
The sparks which had remained in my eyes disappeared instantly and I dared not smile at the questions.

The questions were so complex and cruel to behold. I would love to continue the story but sleepy now. So to cut the long story short, when we were done with the exams, none of my friends or me either attempted cracking a joke. It was simply not what we expected.
But anyway...

I had this test last week and it is really a dreaded course everyone is afraid of the course , because of most alumini's in the school always warns about that particular course so normally am a sharp guy I must always find a sure 😊 route.
So i read enough for the course will sleepless nights it's a computer based test so we make use of the computer and there is this button for refresh on the system that is F5 so I walked confidently into the hall and I started solving and writing on a paper, because the issue with the course is always time I had 10 minutes left I haven't picked any answer I then pressed F5 the questions swapped my time was still the same I pressed it over and over again it didn't change and my time ran out so painful.

"Ike don't play with the wires", my mom said as I searched the toolbox in the storeroom for pliers.

I couldn't naturally agree with my mom not to try fixing the light. Neighbors had lights, their electric bulbs creating a beautiful reflection over their fences, except our home.

I knew that the fault must have been coming from the electric meter or the fuse or the connections. There was no way it won't fall into those three places, I had thought.

I knew I would be safe, for the fact that I had my screwdriver and pliers was enough to fix the problem without stress.

I loosened the screws on the meter reader, opened it, and tapped the screwdriver on a complex wire running from the upper end of the box to the reader. Our bulb shined a light as I tapped.

After compressing the wires into the box, the light remained steady. With a smile, I coupled back the screws and packed my tools.

My mom was smiling, she muttered some words of praise. My sisters were also excited and dived at the television, and my elder brother was struggling to plug in his charger.

What were you expecting?
For electricity to shock me?
😄 you are a bad boy!

The end biko.

Mindviewers has so far been the best website that I could proudly boast of, refer to without regrets, and also show proofs of withdrawal and unargued credibility but something happened this late morning around 1am.

My last @stories competition was due for a win and before the winning time, I accumulated more likes than all my opponents, but then as soon as the countdown was over, the cash price was withdrawn to @simon11 account.

I was displeased with the whole outcome so I messaged the admin @mindviewers immediately and made my complaints with him and also sent my proofs to him. But he did nothing. After several messages, he replied finally and claimed that @simon11 had higher likes as at 12am whereas the competition ends by 1am. He also defended that the selection was automated and therefore correct. But I ask, what is the value of the admin if he couldn't try to trace for computerized mistakes or bugs.

@simon11 woke up definitely around 4/5/6am and magically he accumulated more likes to qualify his win.
Guess what?, @mindviewer admin bought it.

This is in no way meant to insult or judge, it's just my story.

Nzube was my friend, we were very close that our relationship brought both families close too. We often played along the street where most younglings of the area joins us.

On a particular day, we left our street and was strolling down a street next to ours when a familiar face who sometimes we allowed to play with us when numbers needed in our children games were low. He was coming towards us with three of his friends making them four.

He expressed anger on how he was usually treated whenever he came to our street to play and how he is determined to make us pay. He drew a line and threatened that we continued with our journey if we dared to.

I usually didn't like violence but something else I detest is having my rights trampled on. I walked past the line and was walking ahead when I received a blow on my cheek, I was about retaliating when another ran towards me and brushed me down. The other two picked on Nzube making him shed tears.

I couldn't sleep properly at night because I couldn't lay on my favourite position, my face was in pains. I cried deeply in my heart and prayed for same opportunity.

I was fetching water some days after when I saw the bully walk past with a dust bin. Quickly, I rushed two blocks away and hollered at Nzube and informed him of the golden opportunity to have our revenge. He joined me immediately and we hid ourselves and waited for the scapegoat.

We came out from hiding immediately he reach our spot on his way back and he didn't act surprised or threatened when we crept in on him. He acted stubborn and fearless and was about to push at Nzube when I struck his face with a loud slap. He struggled to get back at me but I made for his legs and brushed him down to the grounds while Nzube was throwing punches at him. I desperately wanted him to cry and feel what I felt that day.

I told Nzube to pin him down while I pulled the bully's nicka, removed my slippers and gave his dark bum bum about 4 hot strike when he cried out. We soon left him and ran when we saw a young man running to the scene.

We got our revenge, I was happy more than anything that day and I was sure Nzube too was.
We waited for another battle but it never came.
We won😂.