Bethrand Chibuike @betty

I called my mother about five days ago to relate to her about my supervisor and how he has been incompetent and very wicked concerning our seminar differences. I had come to my mum, and she promised to take action about it. Well, first, she went to the prayer house and collected some Bible verses.

She was determined to pray for me and my situation, believing that divine intervention could help turn things around. My mother went on to share the verses with me, encouraging me to meditate on them and trust that things would improve. She always had a way of uplifting my spirits.

In the following days, I noticed a slight shift in my supervisor's behavior. While I wouldn't say he completely changed overnight, there were moments when he seemed less critical and more open to dialogue. I continued to follow my mother’s advice, praying and holding onto hope.

But I also knew I had to take some proactive steps. I started preparing for the seminar more diligently, gathering my materials and reviewing my presentations. I wanted to be well-prepared, not only to impress my supervisor but also to prove to myself that I could rise above the challenges.

My supervisor call me just some days ago, apologizing for how things had gone and a possible solution to it.
It was just a miracle! And prayers can never be overrated.

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.

Just as the blasting sounds died out, the air weighed heavy of pungent smoke, and the lit tire burned in a distance.
The opponents thought it was the end of the firework show, but it was just the start of our Deceitful plans.

The residents who lived at Behind Zik's Flat street always held a youthful contest filled with fireworks with the next street - Amobi Street during each festive period, whether Christmas, New year or Easter celebration.
Usually, during this competition between us and the next street, other neighbouring streets came to witness the display and eventually, make judgements from the display that they had witnessed.

Earlier on, before the fixed time, I had planned with my friends to play low at first and then when our opponents had used up their finest bangers, we would then startle them with our finest reserves. It is a known saying that the last effect is always the loudest, and it was this last effect that we were after.

The crowed jeered in praises as we launched the last minute reserves in the air. It was so beautiful that even our rivals clapped in praise.
A great plan after all after we won the challenge.

She took my hands and made us swirl around in the dust as she sung what she thought was a romantic song- what she learnt from watching a lot of Nollywood movies.
She always dragged me by hand and forced marriage on me despite how young I was. Though I didn't like the fact that she paraded me along the village square and commanded my friends to stay away or snatching my privacy away each day, I still endured her company because she was pretty.

My younger sister and I had gone down to the Villa to celebrate Christmas with Granny and that was where I met my partner- Dubem.
Dubem was obviously older than me and schooled at a private junior secondary school at the town boarder. She was fluent in English which made her a bit respected by her fellow peers and it was with this ego that she had the courage to think she deserved me, a city-boy for herself.

We were walking down the red sand holding hands when she got distracted by an Udara tree (African star fruit). The tree was standing gloriously in a known compound decorated and decorated by the delicious yellow fruits.

"Pluck some Udara for me na, nwoke mara mma" Chidubem said, staring into my face with a pitiful look.

I was hesitant at first but as she pestered me, I decided to challenge my fear, knowing fully well that plucking any fruit in the community was against the village rules.
I was about to throw a second stone to a branch that held ripe seeds, when I felt something grab my arm.
I quickly stared at the spot where my supposed wife Dube was, and Voila! She was gone!
I glanced up to what was holding my arm, it was Mr. Maduka, a scary man who taunted children and disciplined the slightest misconduct.
"Are you from the Eze's? ", he asked me. I nodded instantly in affirmation, trying to wipe my teary eyes with the one hand I was left with.
"I will let you go today, but don't try this again", Mr. Maduka said, taking off his grip on me.

I scurried away happily, hopping along the shorter part that let to my Granny's house. It was my second chance to life and I won't let any Dubem influence my will ever again. Away with the marriage rubbish! I said before throwing myself on the bed.

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

Her stomach wasn't as big now, and in the loose gown that she wore, she looked older.
There were dozens of large portraits lined at the hall way, and I wanted to study them.
Trailing Aunty Mary step was more vital than the distracting paintings that called put to me. Aunty was taking me to the baby's room.

The baby was snuggling up to my uncle's fatherly arms as I made to carry her. She was a living beauty. Brushing the curly hair that dropped down to her brows with a finger made her widen those magical eyes that one would mistake as unreal.
She smiled at my finger, clutching tightly to it as if she had just been gifted my index finger as toy.

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.