Bethrand Chibuike @betty

Just across the tarred road side, around the new market axis, stood the decent house. I had rang the electronic bell two times now, and was about to enjoy the fun of pressing a button again, when my ears recognized some footsteps approaching the modern wooden door from the inside.

It was undoubtedly nice inside, with the large chandelier hanging gloriously from the tall P.O.P ceiling, radiating its whiteness to all around the large living room. The lighten wasn't just the only beautiful thing about my uncle's place, the walls were one of a kind - it was made to shine like glass which threw me in awe.
"How can walls be made to look like they were made of glass?", I was pondering on my self-afflicted question and answer when Aunty Mary beckoned on my consciousness.

Mixing my project with work, exams, seminar topics, and literature reviews has been utterly exhausting. I barely have any time for myself each day. Every second feels so precious, and I think I'm enjoying it, if not for the overwhelming fatigue that engulfs me afterwards. Right now, I'm battling my eyes as they threaten to close on their own, weighed down by a mix of fright and awe at the tasks ahead. I will make sure that doesn't happen.

Last week, we wrote two exam papers, and more still await us before we can retire for the holiday. In addition to that, we have two more exam papers to complete. The project is particularly time-consuming, consuming my days from morning until night.

I want to take a moment to thank God for a website that I discovered today. This project has helped me in various ways that not everyone sees or understands. I’ve gained access to an array of tools: many website tools, editing tools, generative tools, and assisting tools that make my work much easier.

Particularly speaking, I found out about this incredible website just yesterday, and I must say, it’s been the best resource I could have hoped for. I was able to write an entire chapter in less than an hour, complete with thorough screening and proper references attached.

After only a day of using it, I'm starting to truly enjoy the process. The ease and efficiency it brings to my writing make it a game-changer for me.

Early last two month, I was having a conversation with a good friend of mine when he revealed that he had been saving up to buy an iPhone. The price tag for his desired model was over half a million Naira, and I couldn't help but wonder how long it took him to accumulate that kind of money. He told me it took him around eight long months to save up, and he had his sights set firmly on owning an iPhone.

Curious about his motivation, I asked him why he wanted the iPhone so badly and how much he expected to earn with it. However, it seemed he didn't have a clear answer. As we talked, I began to feel that perhaps spending such a large sum on a phone wasn't the best decision for him.

I ended up convincing him to rethink his plan. Instead of putting all his hard-earned money into one expensive device, I suggested that he divide his funds into three parts. The first part would be used to buy a good-quality Android phone that could do just about everything he needed. I knew my friend wasn't involved in any shady business or high-tech scams that required top-notch apps, so a reliable Android phone would suit him just fine.

With the remaining portions of his savings, he could then invest in something else meaningful like starting a poultry farm.

After making him see reason that keeping the poultry farm for the festive season could earn him more. Currently, he has sold about half of the birds in his poultry farm and has realized already the amount he had been willing to just spend on having a phone and joining the fellow peers in showing off, which results in nothing. He has thanked me several times, and he once sent me 50,000 Naira, which is appreciable for the matter. Now he sees reason, and I think buying an iPhone is the last thing on his mind since he has discovered how recreative and lucrative a business can be.

Carefully, I had settled in the back seat at my favourite position right next to the tricycle's door.
It was another exhaustive day at Old Site, UNTH. A class that began 4hrs later after the scheduled time.

"I was finally going home to rest" I thought to myself, letting a smile steal a chance on on my face.
My two close friends took the space at my left and was relieved as the tricycle jolted into noise as the engine rammed into action.

Suddenly, a tough haggard man emerged from nowhere and seized the control. While the driver was struggling to keep the motor on track, the tough looking arm was aiming for the ignition key.
We watched in despair as the drama lingered on.

The agbero was not ready to explain why he was doing what he was doing, he only muffled out some words similar to "your keke does not have a ticket on it" and struggled more for the key while the muscular driver countered his aims.
We thought they'll soon have it sorted in no time, but none of them was giving in.
The driver on the other hand was acting more fierce than before and threatening the intruder to release the control or he would run him over.

We were still on our toes though seated on the back seat witnessing the two men drag on.
I wasn't willing to leave the tricycle and await another to come along under the hot son, but the a voice spoke to me - "my son, leave!" Like a spark, I saw myself jump out of the tricycle.

Just as my legs touched the ground, the driver propelled his tricycle forward with the throttle drawn up to max.
He almost ran into a moving truck!

Funny enough, I saw my friends already outside the vehicle when I came out, how they did it, I didn't want to know, what mattered was our safety.
Na so the driver for use our lives play but I thank God for his protection.

Wondering what was raising a fuss, I was forced to the end of the banister, from where I was able to catch a perfect view of the scenery about to unfold.

It was one of those end of the year meetings that usually drew all old men to a particular zone (meeting spot) and it could have been a smooth event if not for the two old men who stood a distance away from each other threatening to engage in a fist war.
Suddenly, they rushed at each other, digging their arms into each other as they clashed.
Yh, these two entertainers were people's father and I shouldn't be enjoying such sight but then, each move made by the two opponents baffled me and all I wanted was more of it.

The older opponent seemed more flexible than his challenger, but he must have received a lot of blows to his head. His hand was only trying to get a grip on his challenger's shoulders as if to support his thin legs.

In utter amazement, I watched as the struggling old man skillfully swing the challenger onto the hard ground in what looked like a Scene from WWe.

The crowd let out a roar in honour of the indisputable champion who stood his ground above the whimpering heap of his challenger.
His once thin legs were now to me: a pair of concreted bones made solely for such athletic stunts.

I thought the fight would continue, but once the slammed staggered to his feet, he carefully looked for a perfect shade to seat and rest his body which almost lost the life in it.

Today, I was really tired after school. I had read a lot with this particular female friend.
She (friend)- use to own a little bakery store that she's still trying to get out in the light but we had never gotten to have a one and one conversation concerning that.

Reading was over for the day and it was eventually time to retire and head home, staring at the time, I felt accomplished: reading for straight 7hrs without any distractions. But one thing was amiss - I was hungry and had avoided clogging up my system with junks all through the reading hours.
She wanted to be nice to me, so she requested that I gave her a few minutes while she launched out to her hostel.

She returned with a nylon that was bulging with an unknown delicious aroma emanating from whatever that was.
She made me a buttered bread!
As she handed it to me, she also apologised for not making either a minced meat bread or other more nutritional combo's. We both blamed it on time afterwards.

When I took a bite of the buttered bread, it tasted different from what I usually have. Normally, I put a lot of butter on my bread. But this time, my friend had sprinkled some sugar on the butter. It tasted really, really good. The butter wasn't too much. I kept moving around my tongue on what was supposed to be just an ordinary, there was something special and different about this one, I thought.
Out of impatience, I asked if she used something special to make it, but she said no. It was just a little sprinkle of sugar on it and nothing more.

Throughout the day my system was unapologetically filled up with more of buttered bread. I had gotten an extra loaf myself on the way and a box of medium sized butter, I has sugar at home.
This was new discovery that would linger for some time until my taste buds grows weary of it's taste.