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Family Stories & Experiences

Read interesting Family stories from this online community.

An Unfamiliar Road

The closing bell rung, as day students, we will all be returning home whether in groups of twos, threes or more. I always went home in the company of my brother but we had quarrelled earlier that day and he went home immediately school dismissed.

I didn't want to walk with him so it didn't matter, I stayed back with a friend who attended our church to watch the boring football between SS2 and SS3 — a punishment I must endure since I couldn't make it through the long and lonely road home, alone.

The pathetic match finally came to an end at 4pm and we set out for home; this journey should've lasted 1½hrs but on reaching where the road bifurcated into three, he suggested a road we've never walked before.

Initially, I refused but he insisted we had no time and it'll get dark soon, left with no option, I followed him. We came across huge terrifying trees, they flanked the path like we were in a thick forest.
The pin drop silence in that area gripped me with regrettable fear for what may become of us, probably some chicken monsters will capture us for breakfast.

Out of distrust in his words, I asked him, "Sammy, do you even know where we are going to?" He simply laughed and reassured me, if we hadn't go far, I'd start running back. We reached an old shrine and at this point, I regretted leaving my brother to follow that guy. Thankfully, he had patience dealing with my fears and dragged me past the shrine — the line of Rubicon; I was already sobbing, after all who would hear me cry?

Meanwhile, at home, my Mum who had gone restless ordered an immediate search at 5.45pm for me. My brother, frustrated just waited outside the compound wondering what took me so long to return.

Alas! We emerged at a familiar stream, I rendered praises to GOD for sparing my life through that evil forest and swore never again, NEVER! I ran all the way home, it was already quarter past 6 when I arrived home.

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My mom

Here is my own experience with my mom.
At age fifteen I have already slept with different men. My mom would bring men to her room and when she's fast asleep due to drinking, the men would come to my room and rape me. At first I used to cry but as times go on I became used to it. At age twenty I have done two abortions conducted by my mom's friend, a man who always takes his own share after the do..

Since mom took me for abortion I became his regular customer both when I run errands for mom and when he visits mom, most times he would come when mom is not home and we do it endlessly and the last abortion he conducted was his own child.

It was an all round wayward lifestyle for me and mom. One night she pleaded that we do threesome🥺 because her client said he would pay her ( x3). She came to me and pleaded that we do, I think I was 22 then, I gave in to threesome with my mom and the client that was my first threesome, after that it became a norm for us.

I don't know how this makes anyone feel, all I have to say is that being a single parent is the worse thing that can happen to any woman except God is on your side else one would do crazy things for survival to come out of depression.

I wasn't angry with mom, I saw her struggles, she did everything to give me good life that's what she thought and being in the midst of people who influenced her with negativity, she couldn't do much without what she did.

Fast forward to 2016 my mom met with a man who changed our lives totally we did threesome on our first night of meeting, he showered us with millions of naira and after a year of being with the man, mom ended her wayward lifestyle. If you see my mom you would think she's my elder sister, very sexy and tall.

Fast forward to 2018, my mom married a responsible man and I also married the following year.
My mom is everything .🥰
Till tomorrow she is my mom, my number one woman please Don't judge us if you haven't tasted poverty. Though I sometimes feel it wasn't really about poverty, but depression.

This is our past.

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A broken dream

Nneka was a young, beautiful and ambitious lady, she had big dreams for her life. She wanted to further her education, she wanted to be a professional Nurse, she wanted to travel the world. She got a good job as a single lady and was gradually following her dreams, and then love struck. She met a charming young man.. David. Nneka had already travelled a few times out of the country before she got serious with David.
David was a loving sweet gentle man, he also had ambitions and big dreams, she loved him and he loved her…. then they got married. Marriage came with different demands and new responsibilities. David asked her to resign while he concentrated on building his career so she can be there for the children and take care of the home while running a business. She was to manage the business.

David never asked if Nneka was a business person or if that was what she really wanted. Nneka on the other hand accepted this request because she wanted her husband to be happy and she wanted her home to be fine (she thought)

Fast forward to 25 years after marriage, David fell sick …it was cancer and he didn’t survive. But one thing was certain, he died fulfilled or almost fulfilled. He was in his place career wise and was getting better just before he fell sick.
Nneka today is almost 60 but she’s kinda sad. She’s always reminiscing on her early years as a young woman, thinking about her aborted dreams and what life would have been like if she had not given up on her ambitions. It’s mostly regret for her, asides that she finds consolation in her children and her grandchildren. They seem to be her major achievements, which to her, doesn’t seem satisfactory enough.
I’m sad because I see this circle repeat every day…. So this is a message to young men and young women out there…

For the ladies

Sometimes you give up your dreams and sacrifice your ambitions in the euphoria of a marriage promise, or a marriage, forgetting that the excitement is only temporary and that reality would hit again soon especially when the chips are down.

When we go into a relationship that would potentially lead to marriage, we sometimes leave out some of the most important points to consider, one of which is our individual life plans, and our potential partner’s commitment in helping us achieve our life goals.
I know when two people get married, they become one… But actually, it’s still two different individuals, with different minds, and different dreams. And of course these individual differences will still play out even when they became one.


Before accepting that marriage proposal, discuss your dreams and ambitions and make sure he is committed to seeing you achieve your dreams, while you also show commitment in helping him achieve his.

Don’t be forced or cajoled into buying his dreams at the expense of yours. You both can support your individual dreams


It shouldn’t always be about you. Have you asked her what her plans are? Her dreams, her ambitions… she shouldn’t join you in fulfilling your ambition while she gives up hers. Trust me she may seem happy that you are happy and she may not voice out, but she could be full of regrets and unhappiness deep down. There should be a balance because we are all humans.

But of course…

If your biggest ambition as a lady is to get married and have kids, then by all means go ahead and disregard this message.

And if your partner is happy to share homely responsibilities and shows the desired commitment to see that both of you achieve your life goals, appreciate them and be equally supportive.
I know this goes both ways, but we live in a society were men are mostly particular about their wives and girlfriends joining them to build their thing and achieve their dreams without due considerations of her personal ambition… we always say “it’s for us” but what about her, is that what she really wants?

It’s okay to support your husband, infact you should do it… but husbands, it’s equally okay and fair to support your wife and help her achieve her own dreams.

If there is good planning, you both can achieve your individual goals, though it may take a little time. But first, there must be a will to support each other, and both parties must value and see each other’s dream as important.
What has caused so much disaffection in many homes today, especially when its coming from the wife, is the frustration of seeing her dreams and ambitions go down the drain for the marriage.

Encourage and support your angry wife to pursue her lifelong ambitions and see her become the happy and bubbly woman you once knew.

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A Short Moral Story.

A scientist and a lawyer lived next to each other. One day, the lawyer said to his wife, Lucy.

"Look how hardworking Kate, the scientist's wife is. You don't work as much as she does. She wakes up as early as 4:30 a.m. every morning. She prepares meals for her husband before he leaves for work. She irons his clothes. She does the dishes after each meal. She attends to all the washing and cleaning. She removes her husband's shoes when he enters the home. She still waters the plants. She can work for up to 15 hours a day. But you can't even spend 5 hours working"

Lucy spoke very gently.
"I may not be of the same standard as Kate... but you do know that I'm doing my best everyday to be a good wife to you"

The lawyer snapped.
"Well, your best isn't good enough! I deserve better than a wife who does very little. You are supposed to be as hardworking as the scientist's wife. You should extend your working hours in a day"

From that point on, the lawyer set rules for his wife. He made Lucy wake up very early in the morning to begin the household chores. He made her scrub all sinks and drains, take out the trash, do the grocery shopping, water the plants, weed the garden and more. She worked all day and had very little time to rest. Somewhere along the line, she became utterly worn out.

One evening, the lawyer returned home from work and found Lucy lying lifeless on the ground. He rushed her to the hospital where she was pronounced dead by the doctor. She died from a heart attack caused by chronic stress.

The lawyer was overwhelmed with grief and guilt. He couldn't deal with the pain he felt in his heart. Then, he went to his neighbour, the scientist. He said to him.

"My wife died because I made her do all the household chores all by herself. I compared her to your wife and wanted her to be as hardworking as she is. But tell me, how does your wife do all that and never suffers a breakdown?"

The scientist paused for a moment. What he said next was a total surprise.

"I don't have a wife. The lady who lives with me is a human-like robot called Kate. I created her to do all the household chores such as cleaning, cooking, ironing, etc. How could you have compared your wife to a robot? Lucy was a human with blood in her veins but Kate is a machine that works with a battery. Do you realize what you have done?"

The lawyer stood frozen in shock and disbelief. Then, the scientist continued.

"You had a good wife who was caring and compassionate. A wife who loved and respected you. Did you even know how lucky you were to have her as a wife? But you killed her due to your dissatisfaction and baseless comparison. Now you've lost her forever. What a shame!"

Many of us have the habit of comparing our life to others. We are fascinated and intrigued by the things others have. We lose value for what we own since what others have might look better, newer or prettier in some way. We often think that our body isn't good enough, our house isn't big enough, we aren't talented enough, our family don't do their best enough. But one thing we fail to realize is that the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. Comparison can kill a man very easily. It leaves us with negative feelings of envy, low self-esteem, low self-confidence and isolation. Know in your head and heart that you are different from others and not just only in appearance but also everything. Be happy with yourself and find satisfaction in your work. Stop comparing your life to others and be who you are.

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It was supposed to be a beautiful morning,but the shouting and insults from father wouldn't even make it so,not like it was something new,but my little head couldn't take it anymore, why,why,just why do I have to wake up most times to fighting and war,just why would my parents not live in peace like every other couple around....

Useless woman,there is nothing good that I have gotten since you came into my life,you are just a bag of bad luck,father wouldn't stop talking...

Could that be true?,is that even possible,I mean, people always say children are blessings,so definitely my brother and I weren't an exception, why would father say such,I wondered...

If you are not a fool, would you be asking me for money this early morning, wouldn't you know that I would have to go to work first this morning before returning in the evening with something,but of course you don't have sense,so there's nothing you know,father continued...

But dear,do you expect the children to starve, there's nothing in this house for them to eat,the last money I had ,was used yesterday,please,you have to keep something,no matter how little for the children, please,mother pleaded....

You see your life,you are just a liability,and so useless,see I have to be at work,so take your useless self out of my sight, father shouted, pushed her and walked out...

Mother thought I was still sleeping,as I was still laying down beside my younger brother who was very fast asleep....

She sat down helplessly hopeless,it was obvious she had a lot going through her mind.as some tear drops went down her cheeks.....

I was hurting,I knew my mother was,but there was nothing I could do,I was just a child after all.....

My younger brother soon woke up, looking so hungry,,it was his usual behavior,he walked up to mother,,, good morning mummy,I am hungry,he said, bringing mom back from all her travels in thought,she looked up at him and smiled, don't worry big boy,you would soon eat something, mother assured, even though she knew that was a lie, good morning mummy,I greeted, pretending I was just waking up....

Good morning uwa,she replied smiling, how was your night,she asked...

It was fine mother,I answered....

She was looking at both of us,like she had so much to tell us,but our young minds were too young for all she wanted to say,if only she knew I had become very matured in thought,I mean who wouldn't in my shoes,I was just 8,,but with an adult mind....

My brother was 5,he wasn't one to endure hunger,he had started to wear a sad face,I am hungry mummy, Samuel said again...

Other children were getting ready to go to school in the compound,but that wasn't the case with my brother and I,we were supposed to resume new classes,but father had said he had no money for our school,mother was a stay home wife, hence there wasn't anyway she could assist,my brother and I had to stay at home....

My brother and I had our bath, mother was unease, walking to and fro,I Know she was confused,father was nowhere around,and it was way past breakfast.

My brother soon started to cry profusely,he was obviously hungry,I was too,but somehow I knew crying wasn't going to help the situation...

When my mother couldn't bear seeing us in hunger anymore,she held my brother by his hand, while I walked behind her, to the small shop down our street...

Good morning mama Chi, mother greeted the woman who gave her a disgusting look in return....mother stood scratching her head not knowing how to begin her request...

Mama Ade abeg commote from my shop if you no know waiting you go talk...the shop owner said in pigin

Mama chichi,abeg you fit give me small foodstuffs make I take make something for my children,I go payyyyyyyy

Taaaa,no even try finish am,no try am,you know how much of my money dey your hand,if na so everybody dey buy and no pay,I for don pack enter house,you dey hold me almost six thousand for this my small shop,how much be everything for my market,abeg Carry your sef commot from my shop,the woman shouted again giving a loud hiss...

My brother was already crying,as he understood there wasn't any hope for a meal...

Mother was pleading in tears,I was heart broken seeing her that way....

I say make una commot for my shop,the woman shouted again.....

Mother took both my brother and my hand, lending us home in tears,when God showed us mercy....

Madam come back,we heard a voice..

looking back it was an unfamiliar face..

Mother didn't know him but she slowly walked up to him with both my brother and I...

Good afternoon madman,the uncle greeted,good afternoon sir,mother replied.i greeted too.

Come and take what ever you'd be needing,he said to mom.

Sirrrrr,mother asked,like she didn't hear properly....

Madam, please take whatever you'd be needing ,these kids deserve to eat,please take anything you need...he said again..

Ahaa!,thank you sir, God bless you,thank you very much,mother said and went to the shop, taking few cups of rice and what she'd need in making it and some garri too....

Thank you sir, God bless you for this,I really appreciate,mother thanked him over and over again....

It's okay madam,the uncle said while mother happily took us home to quickly make the food for us.

In less than 45minutes the food was ready,as it was prepared with fire wood....

Mother served some in a big bowl,while we ate happily, thanking God for provision.....

To be continued..

please don't be a ghost reader 🥺
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Sting for a change

Simi was a bright and cheerful girl, but she had one stubborn little habit - she hardly ever listened to her mother's advice to dress her bed before she went to sleep. No matter how many times her mother reminded her of the importance of keeping a tidy bed, she would always find a way to wriggle out of it and just flop right in, blankets all tangled up and pillows everywhere. After all, it's just one of those things that "can wait till tomorrow," she thought.

One fateful night, as Simi snuggled into her untidy bed, she suddenly felt an odd itching sensation on her legs. She brushed it off at first, thinking it was just her imagination playing tricks on her. But as she started to drift off into the land of dreams, the itching turned into a mysterious, relentless tickle. Simi reached down to scratch at the source and... Yowch! She felt a sharp sting that made her jump out of bed in a flash.

To her surprise, she found that she had been visited by a battalion of tiny, mighty ants, who were no doubt looking for an adventure in her unmade bed. In her squeals and flailing, Simi had somehow disturbed their peace, and those little critters had given her the most unwelcome stings on her lovely behind. And boy, did they mean business!

From that night on, Simi couldn't sleep a wink. Every time she tried to settle down, she'd feel another surprise sting, making her roll from side to side just to escape the tiny soldiers of the insect world. She was so busy swatting at the sneaky critters that she completely forgot about her unmade bed. They were having a laugh of their own, it seemed.

Finally, the next morning, Simi stumbled out of bed, bleary-eyed and red-bottomed, but she learned her lesson. From that night on, she made her bed every single day - not just to avoid a visit from the Ant Brigade, but also to restore her peace of mind.

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Contented with a plate

Contented with a plate
I had been looking forward to spending a lovely afternoon at a restaurant with my aunt and my spirited 7-year-old niece. However, as we perused the menu and eagerly anticipated our meals, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of concern about my limited budget. The money in my pocket was just enough for a plate of rice and a soft drink, and I silently hoped that it wouldn't cast a shadow over our outing.

As we placed our orders, I smiled to myself, feeling thankful that I would at least have a simple meal to enjoy. My aunt, on the other hand, was able to indulge in a plate of rice, a drink, and a generous portion of succulent chicken. I couldn't help but feel a pang of envy as I glanced longingly at her savory dish while I contented myself with the modest fare in front of me.

Despite my silent longing for a taste of that delectable chicken, I focused on savoring my meal, determined not to let my limited finances overshadow our gathering. However, my aunt's kind heart and generosity unexpectedly turned the tide. With a beaming smile, she tore off a sizable piece of the chicken and unceremoniously plopped it onto my plate, a gesture that filled me with a surge of gratitude and warmth.

I was just about to savor this unexpected treat when my niece, attracted by the lure of the chicken, made a dash for it and attempted to wrestle it away. Her little hands clutched onto the savory morsel, and I realized that I had a mini tug-of-war on my hands. I chuckled inwardly as I gently knocked her on the head, and, with a mischievous grin, she finally released her hold on my precious piece of chicken.

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Time to Return

Once the joyous festivities of Christmas had come to an end, I found myself facing the task of packing up for school. As I carefully folded my clothes and placed them into my bag, a sense of unease settled within me. The holiday season had brought warmth, laughter, and the comforting presence of loved ones. But now, as I prepared to return to school, a wave of loneliness washed over me.

I had always cherished the holiday break, cherishing the moments spent with my family and the joyful gatherings with friends. However, the prospect of going back to school meant leaving behind the familiar comforts and stepping into a world where I often felt a sense of isolation.

As I zipped up my bag, memories of previous school terms flooded my mind. I remembered the moments of feeling like an outsider in a sea of classmates, and the longing for deeper connections. The thought of returning to that environment made my heart heavy.
But amid the unease, a flicker of determination ignited within me. I realized that I had the power to change my experience and to embrace the new term as an opportunity for growth and the chance to build meaningful friendships.

Whatever the year brings, I'll shuffle through it, but for now let's set out for yet another adventurous season.

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The Unseen Connections of Humanity“

The Unseen Connections of Humanity"

Once upon a time in bustling city, lived a young girl named Maya. She was filled with an innate curiosity about the world and carried the belief that every individual was intricately connected in ways invisible to the naked eye. As she grew older, Maya often found herself observing people and their interactions, seeking a deeper understanding of the human experience.

One day, while sitting in a café, Maya noticed a disheveled man sitting alone in a corner, engrossed in a tattered journal. Intrigued, she approached him and introduced herself. The man, named Samuel, was initially hesitant but drawn to Maya's genuine curiosity.

Over cups of warm coffee, Samuel shared his story. He had once been a successful businessman, surrounded by wealth and power. However, a series of unfortunate events caused him to lose everything he had worked so hard to build. Samuel sank into personal despair, feeling disconnected from society.

Maya listened intently, empathizing with Samuel's situation. Sensing an opportunity to change his perspective, she invited him to spend time with her in search of the unseen connections that tie humanity together.

Together, Maya and Samuel embarked on a path of discovery, journeying through diverse communities, listening to stories, and embracing varied perspectives. They spent time with struggling families, artists, activists, and individuals from different cultural backgrounds, aiming to understand the true essence of being human.

During their adventure, Maya and Samuel encountered people facing various challenges. They met a single mother who had lost her job during the pandemic, yet remained resilient for the sake of her children. They encountered an elderly man who had experienced a lifetime of discrimination, yet chose forgiveness over bitterness.

With each encounter, Samuel's perspective shifted. He witnessed the strength, courage, and resilience of those often disregarded by society. He learned that through the struggles, a powerful unifier emerged – empathy. The ability to understand and relate to the experiences of others, no matter their background or circumstances.

Maya's belief in the unseen connections of humanity was validated time and again. The stories they heard and the bonds they formed taught them that behind every face there was a unique story, waiting to be heard. They realized that everyone carried their own burdens and triumphs, and within those experiences, a common thread of love, hope, and resilience held them together in this complex tapestry of humanity.

Inspired by their journey, Samuel found renewed purpose. With Maya's assistance, he created a foundation to support individuals experiencing adversity, connecting them to resources, and encouraging empathy within communities. Together, they fostered a movement that emphasized the significance of every human life, encouraging people to see beyond differences and recognize the shared experiences that unite us all.

Their story spread like wildfire, awakening an unprecedented wave of compassion and understanding in today's world. Samuel's once shattered life found new meaning, not just for himself, but for all those whose lives he touched. The unseen connections they had discovered became visible and tangible as society transformed, embracing the power of empathy and unity.

And so, maya and Samuel's journey came to symbolize a paradigm shift in humanity, serving as a testament to the transformative power of the human experience, the importance of empathy, and the potential for positive change when we acknowledge the unseen connections that bind us all as one.

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A Lazy Day

I woke up with the intention of having a productive day. However, the universe had other plans to keep me bound. The day unfolded lazily, with each passing hour feeling heavier than the last.

As the clock ticked on, I found myself immersed in a sea of utter laziness, battling the fatigue that clung firmly to my body. My room remained untidy, cluttered with clothes and books that longed for my attention.

With a rumbling stomach and a sense of surrender, I decided it was finally time to eat. The kitchen offered a limited selection, but I managed to shuffle together some peanut butter and bread for what can be called breakfast-for-dinner. As I sat down to enjoy my belated morning meal, a mixture of exhaustion and accomplishment washed over me.

The lazy and rough day, though challenging, taught me to find an aligned way to kickstart the day before unexpected twists come at me. As I sit here feasting on a very late breakfast, I can't help but appreciate the resilience it took to navigate the hurdles of a day that started with lofty goals but ended with a hearty breakfast in the evening.

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Silent Whispers

Silent Whispers
"Be careful on your way home, so you don't get lost”
Those were mama's words
In my thought, those were mere words
Now I'm grown and I know more
Those words mean more

Home is not confined in those walls
Home is more, home is where I belong
Home is Love
Home is the heart mine longs for
Just like mama's words

On my way home, I hope I don't get lost.

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Dinner with Grandma

Dinner with Grandma
In the cause of our Christmas break I and my younger brother duke decided to have a tour to my grandmother's house, a place filled with charm and mystery. As we explored, we encountered a long bench and dark cooking pots, each holding untold stories. My grandmother, a guardian of tradition, shared the secret of enhancing flavors through the art of cooking with firewood.

Amidst the unfamiliar surroundings, we were treated to a feast of pounded yam and native black okra soup with stew—a culinary journey that left an indelible mark on my taste buds. Every bite became a celebration of heritage.

Yet, the joy of the tour was tinged with a hint of sadness. My grandfather, an elusive figure in our family narrative, had left this world before we could know him. The void left by his absence echoed through the halls, a poignant reminder of the passage of time.

Despite this, the visit became a tapestry of emotions, weaving together the joy of discovery and the sorrow of untold stories. In those moments, we found solace in the shared laughter and the warmth of family, creating a new chapter in the book of our shared history.

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"Hello I'm home"... "Daddddddy" we all shout excitedly and run to him. "I got something for the birthday girl" he said with a smile on his face. "Meeeee" I squeal excitedly as he handed me one of the bags he came home with. I quickly opened the bag to reveal the clothes he'd gotten me. My siblings and I "oohed" and "ahhhed" as we brought out each cloth and inspected it. At the bottom of the bag, there was a sealed nylon bag. I opened it to see the most beautiful jean outfit and a frown began to appear between my brows. My siblings"ahhhed"at it with stars in their eyes but the frown only got deeper and something hot began to burn my eyes just as a wedge lodged itself in my throat.

My siblings looked at me with something akin to envy on their faces. They probably thought that my reaction was because I was feeling overwhelmed with gratitude but I must have shocked them when I screamed "noooo" and ran to my dad with tears running down my face. "This isn't my style, I don't wear things like this, I don't like them" I screamed at him. I took a breath to calm my racing heart and continue more calmly but with no less venom, "all my life, you and mom keep making me wear things I'd rather not. I thought by now, you would have realized that I'm old enough to know what I want and respect them. All these years I've lived with you, I have never worn anything like this but I bet you didn't notice. You were more interested in getting me what you liked instead of what I liked" I told him as I walked out and locked myself up in my room.

"Hey Cecee" my best friend called as she snapped her fingers at me. "Where'd your mind wander to? You totally spaced out on me again" she said with a reproving stare. "Is it your dad?" She asked and I nodded my head weakly. She clicked her tongue sympathetically and patted my back soothingly, "I was just so stuck in myself that I couldn't even see or appreciate his efforts and sacrifices" I said with tears in my eyes as I turned to look at her. "He loves me, he never did say it but he showed it and I was too self-absorbed to see it or appreciate it. I feel really terrible Noni. It took being a thousand miles away from him to finally realize it". I cried as I continued to sob. "Hush now, it's going to be okay. I'm glad you finally realized how much your dad loves you, it took you a while but you finally saw it. Christmas break would be here soon, that'd give you the opportunity to make things better" Noni said as she stood up and dusted the seat of her pants. "But, I don't want to go home " I whisper quietly, "why?" Noni asked "I feel so ashamed" I whispered even more quietly. "Oh my poor baby" she said as she stooped to look into my face, "your dad hasn't stopped loving you. In fact I bet it'd make him happy to see you trying to make things better. You were young and stupid, he understands that". "Hey" I protested weakly as I playfully hit her shoulder. "What?" She laughed as she swatted my arm. "Now, if you're done with the retrospection, have pity on me, and come let's get dinner" she said as she straightened up and extended her hand towards me. "Alright" I said as I let her pull me to my feet. "For someone with such a slight frame, you sure eat a lot" I grumbled at her, "whatever, I'm starving. Your tears have taken a toll on me" she said with a smile in her voice. "Oh yeah", I replied "we finished a whole pot of pasta just an hour ago". "It was just an hour ago? I thought it was ages ago. Well, I'm hungry now". A memory flashed across my mind and I stopped walking. "oh what now?" Noni asked annoyed. "No-nothing" I stuttered, "you sure?", "Yeah yeah I am" I smile at her. "Let's hurry before the diner closes" I said and we both lengthened our strides.

After a very satisfying dinner of steaks, I went back to the memory that had flashed across my mind. It was a memory of one of my earlier birthdays, I think I was 10 or 11 and daddy had gotten me a beautiful jean outfit. I didn't like it at the time I got it but over the years, I grew very fond of it and only stopped wearing it when I grew out of it. So, I lied when I said jean outfits weren't my thing and he must have gotten me the jean outfit on my recent birthday because he remembered how I'd loved the outfit he'd gotten the younger me.

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Cold Sleep

It was freezing and I struggled to draw up the blanket to my cheeks, most times, I covered way up all parts of my body.

I stared at the digital time on my smart device and it was 8:22 am. It was time to force myself up the bed but as the wind blew against my louvers, spilling in through the slide opening and lifting the curtains, I knew just then that getting up from the warm comforting soft fabric of my bed was far from near.

With an eye open, I thought about the tiring chores I was to engage in once I was up from the bed. From sweeping a wide portion of the front yard to doing some weeding to sweeping out the rooms, to warming old meals. It was just partly my duties, there was much more work than that which waited.

Subconsciously, I heard my name roar through my room, jerking me off the bed coverings onto the hard floor. As I stood and struggled to wipe my eyes off any sign of sleep as the source of the vice approached my door.

"I key are you still sleeping?",
my Dad asked softly as if he had no link with the roar of a voice that struck me from sleep.

I can't remembered, but I uttered some words about trying to arrange my bed and prayed but not sleeping like he presumed.

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Sharing in Christmas

On Christmas Eve, the aroma of spices and warmth filled my kitchen as I embarked on a heartwarming tradition—cooking a pot of soup to share with neighbors.

As I chopped vegetables and stirred the pot, memories of childhood Christmases flooded my mind. It was a time when my grandmother, with a twinkle in her eye, would create a pot of food that could bring smiles to everyone's faces.
Determined to carry on this tradition, I crafted a hearty vegetable soup with a blend of aromatic herbs.

Once the soup reached perfection, I carefully filled containers, ensuring the warmth would endure the journey. Bundled up against the harmattan chill, I set out to share this gift with my neighbors.

I was met with surprised smiles as I handed each neighbor a container of homemade soup. The expressions of gratitude mirrored the warmth of the soup itself. The simple act of sharing a warm bowl of soup created a sense of community that went beyond the boundaries of our individual homes.

As the night arrived, neighbors gathered outside, sipping soup and sharing stories. Laughter echoed through the cold air, and the moon shone bright on us, together we expressed gratitude for the year.

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Reunited with Family

Two years had passed since I last saw my little friends, and anticipation bubbled within me as I arrived at their home. Oddly quiet, the house hinted at an absence. I learned they hadn't returned from church yet. Patiently, I explored the familiar compound, each corner holding memories of our shared laughter.

An hour later, their bike honked outside, there they were—my little friends, their faces lighting up with surprise and joy. Their mother, equally thrilled, welcomed me warmly. We exchanged stories of the time apart, catching up on the nuances of life.

Amidst the laughter and chatter, I handed over the carefully chosen gifts. The children's eyes widened in delight as they unwrapped the surprises.

Their mother, expressing gratitude, invited me in for a cup of water at least. We lingered in conversation, reliving old memories and creating new ones. It felt like time had paused, allowing us to enjoy the precious moments together.

As the day unfolded, we decided it was the perfect opportunity for the kids to spend their holidays with me. The prospect of adventures and shared experiences lit up their faces, and with their mother's blessing, we embarked on a journey to create more cherished memories during the holidays.

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The wicked stepmother

In the picturesque village of Nwaniba, nestled within the Uruan LGA, resided a man of great renown - Edet Effiong, a skilled fisherman by trade. His reputation preceded him.

Within his family, Effiong had a delightful young teenage daughter, a testament to the love he shared with his beloved wife.

One fateful day, as Effiong embarked on his fishing expedition, destiny led him to the enchanting land of the Ijaw people. It was there, amidst the vibrant surroundings, that his gaze fell upon a mesmerizing figure eight lady, who was a teacher.

Effiong the fisherman (as he was fondly known by all), swiftly proceeded to wed the newfound love of his life. The teacher was an exquisitely pretty lady, whose outward allure concealed a malevolent disposition.

Upon her husband's return from his fishing trip, the cruel stepmother would begin to badmouth Idongesit's mother, and list all the things she didn't do. She even went as far as putting sand in their husband's soup and blaming it on the first wife (Idongesit mother). Margaret, the (the wicked step mother), made life unbearable for Atim (the first wife) in her matrimonial home.

In the depths of twilight, under the watchful gaze of a wicked stepmother, young Idongesit embarked on a treacherous journey to the stream. The clock struck 9:20, casting an eerie glow upon the path ahead. The night was still, devoid of any soul within Idongesit's peripheral view.

Overwhelmed by a sense of desolation, tears streamed down her face as she sang a mournful melody, yearning for her departed mother's presence. "Oh, beloved mother, come forth and witness the burdens I bear for my stepmother," she wailed, her sorrow echoing through the night.

With her calabash pot in hand, Idongesit ventured further into the abyss of the dark and desolate road that led to the stream. As she drew closer, a peculiar sight caught her attention. A tall, enigmatic figure stood beside a majestic palm tree, casting an ominous shadow. Curiosity compelled her to approach, seeking a closer glimpse of this mysterious being.

Suddenly, a thunderous voice pierced the silence, startling the young child. "Halt! Little one, do you not fear?"
To be continued.

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Tortures my mama make me go through to look beautiful 😅

At the end of my cries and the styling of my beautiful hair, I turn and swirl in front of the mirror with my mama loading me praise of my beauty ☺️

It's a beautiful week🖤

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In a remote village in Delta state, a wise elder named Chijioke, nearing the end of his journey, entrusted his expansive farmland to his three children. Driven by his deep love for family, Chijioke chose to entrust the responsibilities to his eldest son, Emeka.

Recognizing the potential for disputes, Chijioke sought counsel from a respected lawyer in the village, Barrister Okonkwo. Unfortunately, destiny took its course, and Chijioke departed from this world before witnessing the consequences of his decisions.

News of Chijioke's passing echoed through the village, but Barrister Okonkwo was nowhere to be found, away on an unexpected journey. During this absence, Emeka, now overseeing his father's land, succumbed to the allure of greed, tormenting his siblings by withholding their rightful shares.

The once tightly-knit family found themselves ensnared in a web of bitterness and resentment. Emeka, now the steward of the family estate, continued in his greed, while his siblings bore the weight of injustice.
Just when despair seemed unbearable, Barrister Okonkwo returned from his prolonged journey. Unaware of the turmoil that had unfolded, he sought to execute Chijioke's will and distribute the inheritance as intended.

The village square became the arena for justice as Barrister Okonkwo carefully scrutinized the legal documents. The truth unraveled, exposing Emeka's deceitful actions and the suffering inflicted upon his siblings.
In the end, justice prevailed. Emeka faced the consequences of his actions, and his siblings received their rightful portions of the inheritance.

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Memories from the village

I worked hard in my family's village farms with my friends today. At noon, we were so tired to continue under the angry sun, having decided that we had done enough tiling and planting, we went to Grandma's house. We helped her cook beans in her small kitchen, filled with many memories and the good food we made together. Grandma shared her cooking tricks, making the simple beans taste amazing.

We sat around a table full of the food we cooked, enjoying the result of our work. The beans weren't just food; they held stories from our past and connected us to our family roots. The last time I visited was during childhood, about 5 years ago and it feels like yesterday.

After a day of laughter and shared moments, we rested in Grandma's cool house. The night was calm, filled with stories and the life of the village. When morning came, we felt refreshed, and we greeted Grandma goodbye.

Heading home, we walked the familiar path, appreciating our hardwork and the bond we shared. The village stayed in our hearts, a place we would return to, passing down traditions to the next generations.

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A pot of beans

In the heart of my childhood kitchen, the familiar dance of pots and pans played out as I tackled the challenge of cooking beans for my dad. Lingering memories of previous attempts whispered doubts, but today held the promise of something different. Despite my initial reluctance, I stood before the stove, ready to dive into the culinary adventure.

Being a good cook didn't always translate to meeting my dad's discerning taste. His last complaint lingered in my mind – the beans weren't cooked enough, the seeds too hard. This time, determined to get it right, I decided to give the beans ample time to soften. The kitchen transformed into a space of patience and anticipation as I let them simmer.

Three hours passed – each minute a testament to dedication. The aroma intensified, signaling the culmination of effort. The kitchen, once a realm of doubt, became a haven of anticipation. Finally, the meal was ready, and I served a portion to my dad. The room held a quiet suspense, waiting for his verdict.

Breaking the silence, my dad smiled and uttered a single word that echoed with triumph: "Delicious." In that moment, the kitchen transformed into a canvas of shared joy, and the beans, now more than a dish, became a vessel for the warmth and connection between me and my dad.

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