Prosper Joshua @chukwuma334

I lived with my aging mother, Ngozi.

My father had died when I was young, and my mother raised me alone, working tirelessly to make sure we had enough to get by. But as the years went by, life became increasingly difficult.

We had little to eat, and my dreams of escaping poverty seemed further out of reach.

One day, my mother’s friend Ifeoma visited, her arms filled with gifts.

"Ngozi, you should consider joining us," she urged my mother. "This is how I’ve managed to buy these things and secure a future for my children."

My mother’s eyes were filled with a mix of envy and desperation. "But what do they want in return?, Hope they won't come after my head someday" she asked, clearly apprehensive.

"No never, we don't do human Sacrifice"

"It's just a little rîtual" Ifeoma replied.

"A small price for such great rewards. You and Chukwudi can have everything you’ve ever dreamed of."

That night, I noticed my mother lying awake, clearly troubled. The next morning, she sat me down, her voice trembling.

"Chukwudi, there’s a way for us to escape this poverty. It involves joining a certain group that can make all our dreams come true."

I looked at her, sensing her desperation.

"What kind of group, Mama?"

"It is called the group of affluence," she admitted, tears welling in her eyes. "They require a little rîtual but not a human Sacrifice, but they promise riches and a secure future. I want you to have a better life, my son."

I was stunned. "Mama, this sounds dangerous. We don’t need their wealth if it comes at such a high cost."

My mother’s eyes were filled with sorrow. " Yes I understand but I doesn't, i just want to ensure you’re taken care of, even after I’m gone. Please, Chukwudi, consider it."

Reluctantly, driven by my love for my mother and the promise of a better life, I agreed. That night, we were led to a secluded location where the cult conducted its rituals. The air was thick with incense, and the atmosphere was heavy with foreboding.

Emeka, the cult leader, greeted us with a chilling smile. "Welcome, Chukwudi. Are you ready to make the sacrifice for wealth and fame?"

I nodded, though fear gripped my heart. "What do I have to do?"

Emeka’s smile widened. "The final sacrifice requires the head of someone you love dearly. Your mother's head, she must be buried alive."

I recoiled in horror. "No! I can’t do that!"

Emeka's eyes hardened. "It's either her life or yours. Choose wisely."

"No I rather dîe than do such, I can't burry my mother alive, no I can't", I thundered.

"Shut up chukwudi, you will do it", my mother echoed from a distance.

"Mother, no I can't watch you buried alive, no", I said still in shock

My mother stepped forward, her face a mask of sorrow. "Chukwudi, if this is the price for your future, then so be it. I love you, my son."

I was dumbfounded.

My heart shattered, but I knew there was no other way out. With trembling hands and a heavy heart, I performed the ritual, sealing my fate and sacrificing my mother.

Now, years later, I sit alone in my luxurious mansion, surrounded by wealth and fame. Yet, none of it brings me joy. I reflect on the price I paid and the emptiness that wealth cannot fill.

I share my story with a heavy heart. "I thought I was securing a future for myself and my mother. But now, I realize I traded something priceless for fleeting riches. My mother isn’t here to enjoy this wealth with me, and every day, I’m haunted by the choice I made."

Tears stream down my face as I look at a picture of my mother.

"In the end, the riches mean nothing without the ones we love. I would give it all away to have my mother back. Let my story be a warning: no amount of wealth is worth losing the people who truly matter."

My tale serves as a stark reminder of the cost of desperation and the devastating consequences of sacrificing love for material gain.

Please share your thoughts on this story

Was the sacrifice worth it.

Can you offer yourself for the future of your child, just like ngozi did?

A lesson everyone needs to learn, no rîtual is little and no amount of wealth is worth losing those you love, all comes with a grievous consequences

Please share this story 🥺🙏

It was time for us to take our marriage vows.
As I stood there, I couldn’t contain my excitement. My heart
swelled with joy knowing I had finally found a wife, not just
any wife, but a virgin wife. My smile was so wide and genuine
that it caught everyone's attention, including my bride’s.
I was beaming, filled with a happiness I couldn't describe.
Just before the ceremony started, I walked over to her and
gave her a warm hug. I even leaned in to kiss her but stopped
myself, remembering it wasn’t time yet.
The congregation watched in surprise, unable to understand
the depth of my happiness. I couldn't wait any longer and
pleaded with the pastor to proceed so I could kiss my wife for
the first time.
The pastor smiled at me, then faced the congregation.
"If anyone here has any reason why these two should not be
joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your
peace." He repeated the question for the last time.
My patience was wearing thin. "Who on earth would object to
my marriage to my virgin wife?"
As I was mulling this over, I was interrupted by a commotion
in the congregation. Turning to look, I saw a young, beautiful
lady standing with a little boy on her back.
My heart sank as I noticed my bride cutting her eyes and
making frantic signs at the woman to sit down.
“What’s going on here? Can someone explain this to me?” I
demanded, my voice trembling.
The pastor tried to calm me. "Please, Mr. Henry, calm down."
The church was in shock. This was unprecedented. The pastor
addressed the young woman, "Yes, young lady, what do you
have to say?"
"I'm very sorry for what I'm about to reveal," she began, her
voice shaky. "Mr. Henry, please find it in your heart to forgive
me. I might ruin your wedding, but the truth must be told."
She continued, tears streaming down her face.
"Amaka, the bride, has been my childhood friend. I know
everything about her. The child you see on my back is her
third child." Gasps echoed through the church as the pastor
tried to calm everyone.
I was in disbelief. Rushing to my bride, I pleaded, "Baby, tell
me she's lying." But her face gave her away. There was no
denial, just a look of shame.
The pastor urged the woman to continue. "Many of you might
think I'm jealous, but this is the truth, and nothing but the
truth. May I never see the light of tomorrow if I'm lying," she
swore.
"She abandoned me with this child five months after he was
born and disappeared. It’s been over a year, and she hasn’t
once asked about him or called to check on his welfare.
I lost my job because of her, I was humiliated because of this
child, and yet she never bothered."
She paused, "But I’m not alone. I came with an old friend."
She motioned to a man in the crowd. "Mr. Johnson, can you
please stand up?"
When Mr. Johnson stood, I turned to my bride in shock. "Is
this the same Mr. Johnson who has been calling you every
night? The one you said was your brother in China?" She
didn’t respond, just hung her head in shame.
Mr. Johnson spoke, his voice calm but firm. "What she said is
true. Amaka was my girlfriend. She left when I discovered she
was carrying another man's child. She made me believe she
had an abortion and was out of town, but unknowingly she
was arranging to marry someone else."
"My name is Mr. Johnson, popularly known as Papa Ejima. Yes,
Amaka was my girlfriend, and she gave me these beautiful
twins you see sitting beside me."
The congregation erupted. People began leaving in shame and
disbelief.
My mind was a whirlwind. My head ached, my eyes burned,
and my legs felt like lead. Turning to my bride, I begged,
"Babe, tell me it’s not true. Tell me he’s lying."
For the first time, Amaka spoke, her voice barely a whisper.
"I’m so sorry, my husband. Please find it in your heart to
forgive me."
My world shattered.
"Oh, so it is the truth," I said, my voice hollow.
She nodded, confirming my worst fears.
"Oh, my virgin wife," I cried out before everything went black,
and I fainted.
The last thing I heard was the collective gasp of the
congregation and the pastor’s voice calling for help as
darkness engulfed me.

"Okafor, bring your chair closer let us gist na" said my grandpa in a shaking voice. As I drew my chair closer to him, we began to plunder on what discuss about after having our dinner of some delicious Eba and eguisi soup which my mum had prepared, I was already heading to bed before my grandpa saw me and sort for companionship.

For as long as I could remember, my grandpa had virtually told me all the ancient stories which I could think of. "What kind of conversation does this man want to have with me again at this time of the night" as I said to my self. But I noticed the tears dropping out seamlessly out of my grandpa's eyes, startle by this I knelt close to him as I enquire,"grandpa what is the matter, did I do something wrong?" No my son " said grandpa, I become very sad whenever I think of your late father, at that point my mind travelled pass a thousand seas and I too had a teary eyes.

It is exactly twenty (20) years ago since his son (my dad) past away. When I was exactly three years old and my sister had just been born. Obviously I didn't get to meet my dad as every normal kid had. I had very faded memories of him which he was brutally alienated.

As the story was told to us by our mother. My dad and mum had just gotten married, my dad having a stable job and my mum having a menial trade business which she managed. After one year, he lost his job and was jobless for about six months with no source of income and feeding was expenses was automatically dependant on my mother's business which wasn't doing so well because she had just had her first child (me), apparently everything was upside down for the family, all my dad did was to submit applications all day long. Also as it was told to us at some point in time my dad went into menial Bricklaying jobs after being a certified accountant.

This continued for more than two years until one day which he got himself into something which would determine his sad end. While my dad engaged in his Bricklaying activities some group of people came to their site and said they needed few men who could help them undertake a certain tasks that required strong and hefty man which my dad some one of the volunteer, they schedule a time for meeting them which my dad attended.

It was at that point that they realized that there were gold smugglers who smuggle gold across countries, realizing this many opted out as they wanted no part in such illegal activities which could bring problems for them but my dad didn't.

He came and told his wife about the job which bluntly refused and disagreed which she encouraged him to continue with the menial Bricklaying and with her business they would be able to manage for a while expecting a change.

But my dad refused, " just look at the way we are living from hand to mouth, is it suppose to be so, our first son is just two years and six months old and you are already pregnant what legacy am I expected to leave for if not money , I need money, woman I said , I need money, at least let me just a bite out of the country's national cake. At the least the bible said the silver is mine, the gold is mine sayest the Lord" said my father as he supports his claim to undertake the gold smuggling job due to the numerous benefits as he left the out and mum crying out for him to stop.

They ran the operation, mine the gold and began the smuggling which my dad was at the forefront. All activities were undertaken in Enugu state successfully but when my dad was to return to Asaba , Delta state where he resides having collected his own cut of the operation he was apprehended by military operatives in the state who were bribed by his own employers who would met him to join the operation so as to seek his elimination due to the fact that they suspected that he might pose a threat to them and might leak the operations if caught.

After being apprehended and taken to the prison where in two days time he was reported poisoned. Which made the entire family grief for years as a result of the wrong legacy which he sort to leave behind.

With my face placed on my grandpa's leg, still with a teary eyes, my grandpa said any legacy whether materially or emotionally, spiritually, physical which is built illegitimate or mundane things leads to ultimate destruction and a bad name, and with such lessons I have been able to establish a legacy built on good name and legitimately gotten wealth and also commitment to any other thing rather than anything else.

The End...

"Come out Mr. Man", " Come out nor", says Oga Landlord as he continuously bangs the home of his tenant, Mr. Oja. "Good morning sir" said Mr. Oja to the Landlord. "Keep your good morning to yourself" said the Landlord as he replies back to Mr. Oja.

Oja being a young man as just started to get on his own two feet. Having no one to look after him since the age of three when his both parents were allegedly said to be con artist who presented themselves as pastors in the community which they resided unfortunately that incident lead in the burning of the couples to death leaving their only son, Oja who's three years old to suffer, fortunately the missionary church where Oja's parents served under took him into their orphanage where he stayed for about 23 years.

Oja who just got out of the orphanage having so much dreams and aspirations decided to rent a self contain of 120,000 naira so as to begin a new life. Oja's rent had just expired and it is time to renew his second year rent.

Just last week, Oja not having enough funds for the rent decided to plead to the Landlord just having about 50,000 naira which he promised to balance by the end of the month which the Landlord seamlessly agreed which made Oja confident and he was in comfort. Little did he know that the Landlord had an evil motive after he noticed that Oja was vulnerable and had little experience about world happenings.

As of the next week which Oja was to transfer the money to the Landlord, he called him and good him about the situation at hand, after the Landlord agree him wanted to transfer the money to the Landlord's account which he abruptly refused asking that the money be presented to him in cash.

Oja had to located the Landlord's house with the 50,000 naira in cash which he gave to the Landlord who refused to present him with any receipt or any evidence of payment. Only for the Landlord to come back a week later with a heavily armed police officer who apparently was his eldest son to demand the 120,000 naira of Mr. Oja who at that point was speechless not having any witness or any prove of payment of 50,000 naira which he paid.

Oja tried as much as he can to explain how the how event took place and how he managed to locate the Landlord's house which he had never gone to before. But the Landlord's son (police officer) said to him "you go explain tire no evidence". Apparently he was his father's accomplice in the whole thing.

It felt like the whole world had begin to collapse for Oja that, in which the Landlord had caused a commotion in the entire axis where Oja resides to the point that instead of him defending his right was forced to that begging and agreed to pay the entire sum of 120,000 naira by the end of the month thinking that every thing will slide but to his greatest surprise the Landlord insisted that the money be given to him that very moment or else he should evict the the house.

One thing lead to another and Oja was charged to court without any form of evidence he was forced to evict in seven (7) days which rightfully should be three months due to the fact that the Landlord had already that same house to another person for the sum of 240,000 naira and the person who was absent for a while was to return in eight days time to occupy the house.

Poor Mr. Oja was ridicule and without any form of apology was forced to go back to that same orphanage seeing that he had no money for anywhere to start from. He went back in shame with the hope of making a little money from his piping and fittings jobs with which he could start from scratch again.

The End...

"Come out Mr. Man", " Come out nor", says Oga Landlord as he continuously bangs the home of his tenant, Mr. Oja. "Good morning sir" said Mr. Oja to the Landlord. "Keep your good morning to yourself" said the Landlord as he replies back to Mr. Oja.

Oja being a young man as just started to get on his own two feet. Having no one to look after him since the age of three when his both parents were allegedly said to be con artist who presented themselves as pastors in the community which they resided unfortunately that incident lead in the burning of the couples to death leaving their only son, Oja who's three years old to suffer, fortunately the missionary church where Oja's parents served under took him into their orphanage where he stayed for about 23 years.

Oja who just got out of the orphanage having so much dreams and aspirations decided to rent a self contain of 120,000 naira so as to begin a new life. Oja's rent had just expired and it is time to renew his second year rent.

Just last week, Oja not having enough funds for the rent decided to plead to the Landlord just having about 50,000 naira which he promised to balance by the end of the month which the Landlord seamlessly agreed which made Oja confident and he was in comfort. Little did he know that the Landlord had an evil motive after he noticed that Oja was vulnerable and had little experience about world happenings.

As of the next week which Oja was to transfer the money to the Landlord, he called him and good him about the situation at hand, after the Landlord agree him wanted to transfer the money to the Landlord's account which he abruptly refused asking that the money be presented to him in cash.

Oja had to located the Landlord's house with the 50,000 naira in cash which he gave to the Landlord who refused to present him with any receipt or any evidence of payment. Only for the Landlord to come back a week later with a heavily armed police officer who apparently was his eldest son to demand the 120,000 naira of Mr. Oja who at that point was speechless not having any witness or any prove of payment of 50,000 naira which he paid.

Oja tried as much as he can to explain how the how event took place and how he managed to locate the Landlord's house which he had never gone to before. But the Landlord's son (police officer) said to him "you go explain tire no evidence". Apparently he was his father's accomplice in the whole thing.

It felt like the whole world had begin to collapse for Oja that, in which the Landlord had caused a commotion in the entire axis where Oja resides to the point that instead of him defending his right was forced to that begging and agreed to pay the entire sum of 120,000 naira by the end of the month thinking that every thing will slide but to his greatest surprise the Landlord insisted that the money be given to him that very moment or else he should evict the the house.

One thing lead to another and Oja was charged to court without any form of evidence he was forced to evict in seven (7) days which rightfully should be three months due to the fact that the Landlord had already that same house to another person for the sum of 240,000 naira and the person who was absent for a while was to return in eight days time to occupy the house.

Poor Mr. Oja was ridicule and without any form of apology was forced to go back to that same orphanage seeing that he had no money for anywhere to start from. He went back in shame with the hope of making a little money from his piping and fittings jobs with which he could start from scratch again.

The End...