Happy Ending Stories & Experiences

There was a time I had to do this big seminar thing. I was super scared, like really nervous. I mean, standing up in front of a bunch of people and talking? That's like my worst nightmare. But I had to do it, you know? It was important.

So, I started preparing. I made some notes, practiced what I was gonna say, all that stuff. But still, every time I thought about it, my stomach did this weird flip-flop thing. I kept thinking, "What if I mess up? What if everyone thinks I'm dumb?"

Then, the big day came. I was sweating bullets, I tell you. But then, my friend came over and gave me this pep talk. They were like, "You got this! You're gonna blow their minds!" And you know what? That actually helped a lot. It was like a little boost of confidence.

So, I took a deep breath and went up there. At first, my voice was shaky, and I stumbled over some words. But then, I remembered what my friend said, and I started to relax a bit. I focused on what I knew and tried to forget about all those eyes staring at me.Surprisingly, as I kept going, it got easier. I started to get into a rhythm, and before I knew it, I was halfway through my presentation. It felt good to share what I knew with everyone.

When I finally finished, I couldn't believe it. I did it! Sure, there were a few hiccups along the way, but overall, it went way better than I thought it would.

I stood excitedly at the start line for the annual cross village marathon with my three running buddies Chidi, Naza, and vicky.

With our belts fastened, we took a deep breath, getting ready for the challenge. For the first few miles, we ran with lack of enthusiasm and determination.

As we made our way through tree shades, the sweet smell of ripe guava filled the air, making us want to stop and take a break from the race. We took a sharp left, laughing and straying off the path.

Picked some juicy guavas off the trees and savored the sweetness of their freshness. This was one of the best parts of our marathon journey.

By the time we made it to the halfway point, we were feeling the exhaustion but Vicky’s support kept us going. We were determined to finish strong and with me in the lead, we urged each other on and made it to the finish line together, hand in hand.

Till now my body hurts from the race but I will be fine soon as long as I have my friends.

Chukwudi, a determined college student with dreams as vast as the city skyline, found himself on the brink of completing his final exams. With excitement coursing through his veins, he eagerly anticipated the journey back home to his small town nestled in the rolling hills.

However, fate had a different plan in store for Chukwudi. Just when he could almost taste the freedom of finishing his exams, a sudden announcement echoed through the corridors of the university: the exams were postponed by a week, sending shockwaves of disappointment through Chukwudi's carefully laid plans.

Despite the setback, Chukwudi refused to let despair consume him. With his finances already stretched thin, he resolved not to burden his parents with his troubles, determined to navigate this storm on his own.

As the days dragged on, Chukwudi faced a series of challenges. His gas tank emptied, leaving him stranded in the city streets. With an empty pantry and a growling stomach, he relied on sheer willpower to fuel his determination.

Yet, with each passing obstacle, Chukwudi's resolve only grew stronger. He poured himself into his studies, channeling his frustration into a relentless pursuit of knowledge.

I used to love cooking tomato stew, but for some reason, it had been ages since I last made it. Perhaps I just got caught up with the hustle and bustle of being a student and somehow lost track of my favorite recipe. It wasn't that I hated it, I just couldn't find the time to prepare it. However, today was different. I had an early morning start and decided it was the perfect opportunity to finally indulge in the savory delight I had been craving.

I ventured to the market and carefully selected the freshest tomatoes, onions, bell peppers, and all the necessary spices to conjure up the perfect stew. I was ready to embrace the aromas and flavors that I had missed for so long. As I returned from the market, all eager to commence my cooking adventure, I was halted by an unexpected hurdle. I realized that I had run out of gas, and it was a pressing issue that needed to be addressed before I could bring my culinary dreams to life.

With a sense of inconvenience looming over me, I hurried to sort out the gas situation. As luck would have it, I was further delayed by an unexpected exam at school. The exam began late, and we were left waiting for what seemed like an eternity before we even started. Frustrated but determined, once the exam had concluded, I dashed home with renewed purpose.

Eagerly, I busied myself in the kitchen, chopping the vegetables and seasoning the pot with care. Once I had replenished my gas cylinder and ensured everything was in order, I finally started cooking. As the rich aroma of the stew filled my apartment, I savored the anticipation of what was to come.

There lived a man named Ike. Ike was a simple man, content with his humble life in his small mud house. However, his abode was often besieged by hordes of ants and termites that scurried around, much to his annoyance. The villagers often snickered and made fun of Ike, and even his closest friend hesitated to visit him, fearing the relentless ants that infested his home.

One day, feeling exasperated by the ceaseless pestering of the insects, Ike decided he had enough. He armed himself with a broom and set out to rid his mud house of the pesky creatures. As he swept with determination, he came across a tiny, peculiar object glistening among the debris. Curious, he picked it up and inspected it closely. It was a minuscule, radiant stone, but Ike couldn't recognize it for what it truly was.

Intrigued, Ike decided to show the stone to the village elder. The wise elder's eyes widened with astonishment as he examined the sparkling gem. He explained that it was not just a stone; it was a rare pearl, and one of immense value. Ike was dumbfounded. Unbeknownst to him, while clearing out the ants' nests, he had stumbled upon an incredible treasure that had been hidden for years right beneath his very home.

Eager to secure his newfound fortune, Ike wasted no time in seeking out buyers for the precious pearl. To his amazement, a wealthy merchant offered him an exorbitant sum of money for the rare gem. With the newfound wealth at his disposal, Ike's fortunes changed almost overnight.

In a matter of days, he transformed the barren plot of land where his mud house once stood into a grand estate. The small, humble dwelling was replaced by a magnificent mansion, adorned with opulent embellishments that sparkled in the sunlight. The villagers who had once mocked him now marveled at the grandeur of his new home, and Ike's once hesitant friend visited him, awe-struck by the remarkable transformation.

The familiar hum of electricity was missing, and a sense of unease settled over me. I glanced out the window and saw that the entire neighborhood was shrouded in darkness. A total blackout. My mind raced as I wondered how long it would last and how we would manage without power.

Two days passed, and the neighborhood had transformed into a silent, eerie landscape. With everyone's phones drained of power, the need to find a charging station became urgent. A few of us banded together and set out on a mission to find a place to recharge our phones. After searching for what seemed like hours, we stumbled upon a small hotel nestled at the edge of the neighborhood. Without a second thought, we hurried inside, desperate for access to electricity.

To our surprise, the staff didn't seem to mind as we huddled around the nearest available outlet, plugging in our phones. As the battery indicators began to climb, we were greeted by a friendly waitress who seemed genuinely intrigued by our sudden appearance. The prospect of being discovered made us uneasy, and we braced ourselves for the inevitable request to leave.

However, our fears quickly vanished as the waitress inquired about our needs and how we could support the hotel. Flustered and caught off guard, we mumbled about only needing to charge our phones and leaving as soon as they were juiced up. Embarrassed by our seemingly freeloading behavior, we realized we had unfairly imposed on the hotel. Immediately, she looked at us, nodded, and assured us that it was okay.

Lost in my own thoughts, I heard desperate cries coming from down the road as I was strolling home from work. I turned the corner out of curiosity and saw something that would stay with me forever. A small child was being violently taken from his distressed mother by a group of men wearing masks. The mother was sobbing and holding to her child's arm. I watched in fear, caught in shock at the nightmare that was playing out in front of me. My heart was pounding in my chest.

I felt like time stopped for a second when I realized how serious the situation was. The mother's cries for assistance went through the atmosphere and set my heart on fire. I was aware that I had to step in, take some action, anything at all, to protect the kid. As I desperately looked around for a weapon, I noticed a big stone resting close by. I immediately rushed forward, picked up the stone, and threw it as hard as I could toward the kidnappers' car. As the stone hit its target, there was a loud cracking sound that made the kidnappers briefly loosen their hold on the infant.

I seized the chance, snatched the kid, and pulled them out of harm's way. Nevertheless, my little moment of victory was brief for the kidnappers twisted their faces in anger and hatred as they turned to face me. I decided in a single second to run for my life, with adrenaline rushing through my veins. I ran down the street, my heart beating in my ears as I hurried towards safety, ignoring the cries and threats behind me.

I turned off the main road and into a thicket of bushes as soon as I got to the neighborhood's edge in the hopes of becoming lost in the deep bush that would hide my attackers. After what seemed like a lifetime, I eventually emerged from the bushes, breathing heavily and with an beating heart. I looked over my shoulder and there was no evidence of the kidnappers, but I could still picture their scary expressions.

I staggered home, shaking and shivering, my head spinning from the terrifying trauma I had just gone through. It was not until I passed out on my doorway, long after 10 o'clock at night, that the reality of what happened really set in. I had just about escaped with my life after witnessing the unimaginable and intervening in a terrifying circumstance. Even though I would always be bothered by the memory of that dangerous evening, I knew that I had done the right thing and what was required to protect an innocent child.

I never quite thought it would happen, but there I was, my earpiece missing. The culprit was none other than my so-called friend, who, in a moment of carelessness, had pocketed my cherished music-listening companion. I couldn't help but feel a pang of betrayal as I realized what had transpired. Music was my solace, my refuge, and now it was cruelly snatched away.

With my heart filled with a strange mix of annoyance and longing, I embarked on a quest to replace my stolen earpiece. I headed to the market, hoping to find a like-for-like replacement. What I found there, however, was not what I had expected. The once affordable earpieces were now priced at an astonishing 3,000 to 4,000 Naira, a stark contrast to the 500 to 1,000 Naira they used to be.

The shock of the price hike didn't deter me. I needed my music, and I was willing to fight for it. Music was an essential part of my daily routine. A day without music felt like a day without color, a day without energy. Walking to school, returning home, and spending solitary evenings, music was my constant companion.

In the end, I made a decision. Ignoring the steep cost, I purchased a new earpiece. As I walked away from the market clutching the small package, a sense of contentment washed over me. Sure, I might have expended my last card on this impulsive buy, and perhaps it wasn't the most prudent decision. But as I plugged in the new earpiece and lost myself in the melody of my favorite songs, all doubts vanished.

As the night deepened, anticipation for Easter morning filled the air. With excitement brewing, I patiently waited till midnight for the electricity to return, eager to embark on my culinary journey. At last, the lights flickered on as the clock struck twelve!
I wasted no time in gathering my supplies, which included juicy tomatoes, colorful peppers, and fragrant spices, in order to make a delectable half stew to commemorate Easter's arrival. I slowly blended the tomatoes and peppers into a smooth, colorful combination, each swirl bringing me closer to the delicious dinner that was waiting for me.

Stirring the stew, I wondered if I was the only nyctophilic person in this residence, all lodge occupants had gone silent in sleep. For quite a long while, there was a greater tendency to cook at night, I found no peace in cooking under daylight. Why sleep at 10pm? Are we chickens or what? The aroma of the stew penetrated my nostrils — such a delight, it was time to retire for the night.

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

I returned from church, worn out from the scorching sun. Relaxing for some minutes before preparing rice will be ideal but this moment was short-lived. First, the smell of fried ripe plantain poked my nostrils then the aroma of chickens followed suit. 'What's going on, this is just Easter,' laying down won't satisfy my curiosity, I sprung to my feet and headed for the balcony, there — 3 ladies were busy frying, each a full chicken.

Surely, this wasn't a dream, these traitors had been laying strategies and planning for this very day. I couldn't bear the sight anymore and retreated into my room, grabbed a drink and gulped down half of its content.
Took few minutes to decide and resolved to visit the market, maybe I'd get a good meat to level up this stew. At the end of the market tour, we had just enough to spice things up.

The important thing was being thankful for coming this far, the last day of the month; one well spent and filled with lovely moments worth cherishing.

Today was one of those days, you know? Kinda lazy, with a hint of "I really don't want to do anything" vibes. After all those exam fights a few days back, it felt like I needed a break, a day to just chill before diving into another paper. So, I decided to embrace the laziness and take it easy.

I mean, even cooking felt like too much work, so I hit up my favorite place and scored three humongous wraps of okpa. Yep, comfort food, all the way. They were like cozy little bundles of joy that I devoured without any guilt. Total lazy day food, you know?

Later in the afternoon, I finally dragged myself out of the bed, and I remembered I had these ripe plantains just waiting to be fried. So, I made my way to the kitchen with that lingering "I really can't be bothered" feeling. But hey, I was determined to give myself a little treat, so I heated up the oil, chucked in the plantains, and just watched them sizzle.

But here's the plot twist: as I was standing there, giving minimal effort to this whole cooking thing, one of the plantains decided to get a little wild and, next thing you know, it's jumping out of the frying pan. And guess where it landed? Yep, right smack dab in my mouth. I mean, seriously? How lazy can a plantain be that it doesn't even want to stay in the pan?

To be frank, I ate each plantain as soon as it left left the hot oil.
It was memorable though and I thank myself for making very good use of today.

as the greatest wizard of all time.

Angadan had always felt like an outcast in the wizarding world. His parents were renowned for their magical abilities, but when it came time for Angadan to showcase his own skills, he fell flat. He tried and tried, but nothing seemed to work. His parents were disappointed, and he felt like a failure.

But Angadan refused to give up. He knew that his destiny was greater than this, and he was determined to find a way to tap into his own unique powers. For years, he studied every magic book he could find, trying out different spells and incantations. He practiced day and night, honing his skills and exploring new ways of using his magic.

Finally, one night, as Angadan lay in bed crying, something shifted inside of him. He felt a surge of power coursing through his veins, and he knew that he had finally found his true calling. With renewed confidence, he began planning the greatest magic show the world had ever seen.

People came from all around to watch Angadan perform, expecting him to fail yet again. But when he took the stage and began weaving spells in a way that no one had ever seen before, the crowd was mesmerized. Every trick he performed was unique and wondrous, tappping into the very fibers of the universe around him.

By the time his show was over, the once-mocking crowd was cheering his name, hailing him as the greatest wizard of all time. And Angadan knew that he had truly found his purpose in life. He continued to perform and inspire for decades to come, earning his place in the annals of wizarding history as one of the greatest of all time.

I set out with my friend Ella with just a single penny left in our pockets. It had been a long and exhausting day, and the thought of cooking even the simplest meal felt like an insurmountable challenge. We simply couldn't muster the energy nor the will to cook, so we decided to use our last bit of money to buy some ready-made food.

We made our way to our usual food spot only to find it closed, leaving us feeling quite disheartened. Neither of us fancied the idea of resorting to junk food, so we decided to stroll down the street to see if there was another place still open. We walked quite a distance until we finally stumbled upon a different food vendor.

To our surprise, this new place had their prices much cheaper than our usual spot. It was like a small miracle had occurred. We bought our already-made food and to our delight, we still had some change left over after the purchase.

As we sat down to enjoy our meal, the worries and stress of the day seemed to melt away. We marveled at how a seemingly simple excursion had turned out to be such a fulfilling and uplifting experience. It was a powerful reminder that sometimes, things work out even better than we expected.

Once upon a time, there was a little village that was home to a magical creature called the Chatain Guardian. The Chatain Guardian was a kind and gentle being, and its sole purpose was to protect the villagers from harm. The Chatain Guardian was not visible to the human eye, but it was always present, watching over the village and keeping everyone safe.
One day, the village was attacked by a band of marauders. They pillaged the village, taking everything they could carry. The villagers were terrified, and the villagers cowered in fear, certain that the marauders would destroy the village and harm them all. But then, they heard a strange sound: a low, rumbling growl. As the marauders turned to look, they saw a massive, shadowy figure looming over them. The Chatain Guardian had appeared, and it was furious at the invaders. With a roar, it sent the marauders running in fear, and they never returned.
From that day on, the Chatain Guardian was revered as a hero in the village. The people knew that as long as the Chatain Guardian was there, they would always be safe. The villagers lived in peace for many years, until one day, a terrible storm struck the village. The wind howled and the rain poured down, and the villagers were afraid that their homes would be destroyed. But then, they saw a strange sight: the Chatain Guardian was flying through the air, its body glowing with a brilliant light. The Chatain Guardian flew above the village, shielding the people and their homes from the storm. When the storm had passed, the villagers were safe and sound, and they knew that the Chatain Guardian had once again protected them.
From that day on, the Chatain Guardian became known not just as a guardian, but as a bringer of light and hope. The villagers looked to it for comfort in times of darkness, and they always knew that it would be there to protect them. And so, the Chatain Guardian continued to watch over the village, and it became a legend that was passed down from generation to generation.
THE END!!

Once upon a time, in the vibrant heart of the animal kingdom, there lived a parrot named Percy. With his stunning feathers of emerald green and vivid scarlet, Percy was like a celebrity in the avian society. Whenever he soared outside the community, all eyes turned eagerly toward him, and the air whispered with admiration.

He had the gift of gab and an infectious charm; the people of the kingdom adored him. His melodious chatter and clever mimicry of other animals made him a beloved figure. Percy was invited to every gathering and celebrated for his wit and charisma.

As time passed, Percy's popularity and praise began to work upon him unkindly. His avian superstar status inflated his ego, and he started to speak more than he should, boasting at every opportunity. His song turned into a ceaseless stream of self-praise. Unbeknownst to him, his once-devoted followers began to shrink, and murmurs of discontent rippled through the community.

As Percy's pride swelled, so did his band of detractors. Once mesmerizing and charming, he found himself alone, with the whispers of his critics echoing in the winds.

One sunny day, perturbed and distraught, Percy settled onto his favorite branch, the weight of his loneliness heavy upon him. In reflection, he yearned for the days when he engrossed others with humble words and a kind heart. His squawks turned to sobs, and he wished fervently for the return of simpler, kinder times.

Through his sorrow, Percy discovered his fall from grace was of his own making. He vowed to rise again, this time with humility and kindness leading the symphony of his song. He shed his pretense, becoming friendlier and less boisterous, and, one by one, the echoes of his praises returned. The parrot, once known for his incessant verbosity, sang more heartwarming melodies than ever before.

With every trill and harmonic note, Percy rejoined the symphony of the community. Affection and admiration resurged, and the once-lost love of his followers returned. His gentle spirit and melodious songs became the sunlight that pierced through the hearts of all those around him, fostering goodwill and warmth wherever he flew.

As the days passed, Percy the parrot found his place as the shining star of the kingdom once more. His new fame was not built on boastful words but on the harmonious melodies that flowed from his heart. His legacy shone as an enduring testament to the power of humility, kindness, and the beauty of redemption.

I've always been fascinated by the idea of baking. So, when I stumbled upon the recipe for chin chin, a popular West African snack, I knew I had to give it a try. The thought of creating those crispy, bite-sized delights filled me with a sense of excitement and determination.

Admittedly, it was quite a tussle getting the dough just right. I found myself vigorously beating the flour, working to mold it into the perfect texture. I added the other ingredients - a dash of nutmeg, a hint of sugar, all carefully measured to bring out that sought-after flavor.

Finally, it was time to fry. The simmering heat of the oil filled the kitchen, and I gingerly lowered the first batch of chin chin into the sizzling pot. The delightful aroma that began to waft through the air made my heart race with anticipation. I couldn't wait to see and, more importantly, taste the results of my culinary experiment.

As each piece of chin chin emerged golden and glistening from the oil, my excitement reached its peak. However, as I took the first bite of the freshly fried chin chin, to my surprise, it was softer than expected – almost doughnut-like in texture. It certainly wasn't what I had imagined, and for a moment, I worried that my effort had fallen short.

But then something magical happened. My worries vanished as the chin chin met my taste buds. The flavor was unmistakably delicious - a perfect blend of sweetness and warmth. I couldn't help but chuckle at the unexpected result. Yes, the texture was different, but the taste was undeniably satisfying. It was an unexpected twist that left me feeling both perplexed and delighted.

Presenting it to others became an amusing affair. They would laugh when they first felt the surprising softness of the chin chin, expecting the usual crunch. However, their laughter turned to praise the moment they took a bite. The joy on their faces and the chorus of compliments that followed were the most rewarding parts of this little baking adventure.

In the end, my first attempt at making chin chin didn't turn out quite as expected, but it surely left an impression – a tale of perfectly imperfect, delightfully delicious, and unforgettable culinary surprise

"Look at how far we've come" I thought aloud flipping through my books. Childhood felt like it was yesterday and yet seemingly far away. The chirping sounds of birds that we looked forward to every morning, what took that longing away?

Was it the growth spurt? Maybe a change of environment or the new minds we opened up to. Millions of unprocessed thoughts flooded my mind and the best I could do was keep calm and refocus my mind on an open 10month old long note still wondering how I developed passion for reading.

Seated in front of a 30+ people class and waiting for my turn, all I could do was throw glances across the beautiful minds I met in school. My eyes finally found rest on my colleague who was tutoring the class on dietary fibres, she swayed forth and back nervously but soon found faith to stand firm.

Alas! She bowed out, passing the microphone to me, I was overwhelmed with fright but this is not about me, it's about passing the value I've learnt within to these beautiful faces and with that assurance, I sighed and greeted the class.

There was this new girl in our neighbourhood. She was really beautiful, true definition of fresh wine.

But there was a problem, in fact that isn't a problem, because I have taken it upon myself to do anything just to make this girl like me.

She loves boxing and really loves strong men. There is this local boxing ring in our neighbourhood where some guys practice and train.

So to suprise her one day I decided to plan with a friend of mine so that we two would box in the ring and I would beat him so that the girl will in turn fall in love with me.

At the D-day, I invited this girl over which she came. But my friend was no where to be found. But he texted "Bro I'm sorry I had an urgent work to attend to" but there is this my guy that I told, he would do what you asked him to do". That was his text.

I was happy at least the plan will still pull through. When we entered the ring this fair guy who was supposed to be my opponent was not smiling even when I smiled at him to know if we are on the same page. The crowd started cheering us up. Then the referee blew his whistle, this guy attacked me as if I have wronged him before.

That was how he blow me and blow me again. Bro I thought my friend had told you why we are here. I said. My new girl is also here (he also said) and he gave me a heavy blow that made me forgot my self.

Since that day I have vowed not to use my body to please any woman again. I saw Hèll.

That evening, I had the pleasure of observing two old men who were clearly the best of friends, reveling in the joy of life at its fullest in the neighborhood hotel swimming pool. As they bobbed in the water, they sang old tunes, danced as if nobody was watching, and seemed to have forgotten whatever troubles they faced back at home. I couldn't help but chuckle at their antics and admire their zest for life.

It was heartwarming to witness them reliving their younger days, their laughter and jokes echoing off the pool walls. They threw stunts into the water, played a game of chase, and did all sorts of entertaining and somewhat daring activities, as if age had no dominion over them. In their shared happiness, they seemed to symbolize the true spirit of friendship and the enduring capacity for joy, no matter the years that have passed.

As I watched from the sidelines, I couldn't help but be touched by the genuine affection and camaraderie they shared. It was a sweet evening, a reminder that friendship and happiness can outlast the passage of time.

We just concluded our cell fellowship, and every second we spent there was remarkable. After a brief photo session, I started to stroll back home reminiscing over the fellowship's activities and whispering little remarks to myself all the way to the last street leading to my lodge.

The formerly narrow, bushy path was now smooth allowing a wide, extended view as far as the eye could reach. I came across another fellowship that had made use of the spacious area to congregate while still providing little room for passers-by.

A few distance from their assembly, I arrived at what would become the last obstacle: a football field with only eight players and two substitutes praising the lads, perhaps, their supportive acts will earn them a spot to play soon.
The only logical approach, given the amount of dust in the area, was to develop a guide in advance and navigate my way through. The ball was zooming around the pitch at a dangerous pace since these boys were playing with tremendous energy.

'To be forewarned is to be forearmed.' My narrowed eyes continued to observe the position of the ball while I planned how to evade it if necessary. From an unsuspecting distance, one of the players fired a shot towards me, this guy must be Haaland from the trenches.

The only strategy I had thought of was evasive, but there wasn't much room for it from where I was standing—an open well and a filthy gutter on one side would make it impossible to maneuver with the incoming missile.
There was a fork in my plan; I could attempt the evasive strategy and deal with whatever disaster ensued, or I could launch a counteroffensive and emerge unharmed.

Settling for the latter was now inevitable. Mustering every energy, I swiftly positioned my foot and sent the ball flying back to its owner. Their regretful exclamations transformed into ovations and shouts of joy, the onlookers weren't left out in the miniature celebration; while some clapped, some yelled "chairman!!!"

Despite the shock my foot received from hitting the ball, I was delighted in that moment. Amidst the cheers of delight, I carried on with my journey, nodding with supreme satisfaction at such gallantry.

Today as I walked to school, I couldn't help but feel proud of my neat and shiny shoes. The rain from a few days back had washed away the dust, leaving the streets with a glistening clean look. It wasn't often that the south east experienced such relief from the dust, and it was something to be grateful for.

My shoes still sparkled as they did when I left home, and with each step, I felt a sense of satisfaction. As I arrived at school, I noticed that everything seemed different. No one was fighting to fan themselves under the oppressive heat, and there was a notable absence of students crowding around the automated hand washing machines.

Even as we piled into the bus, there was a sense of ease and comfort in the air. The usual frenetic energy and complaints about the heat were noticeably absent. The coolness of the day seemed to have cast a tranquil spell over everyone.

While I was aware that the rainy season had not yet arrived and the prevailing weather was still the dry harmattan, I couldn't help but revel in the refreshing change.

I watched a local football match in a school playing ground that was two years back 🔙 . As I sat down, I asked one of the boys what the score was.
With a smile, he replied; "They are leading us 3-0"😩😩
And I said, REALLY!!😂😂
I have to say you don't look discouräged🥺🥺
"Discouräged?" the boy asked with a puzzled look 😒😒
Why should I be discouräged when the Referee has not blown the final whistle??🌚 💁‍♂️
I have confidence in the team and the managers; We shall definitely overcome!!☺️☺️
Truly, the match ended 4-5 in favor of the boy's team!!🙂🙂
He waved at me gently, with a beautiful smile as he left; I was amazed, mouth wide open; Such confidence; Such beautiful faith🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️
As I got back home that night, his question kept coming back to me😤😤
"Why should I be discouräged when the referee has not blown the final whistle?"
Life is like a game🥺🥺
Why should you be discouräged when The Almighty God is your manager??🌚💁‍♂️ Why should you be discouräged, when there's still life??😒😒Why should you be discouräged when your final whistle has not sounded??🙃🙃The truth is that many People Blow the final whistle themselves🙂🙂
But as long as there is life, nothing is impossible and it is never too late for you🥰🥰
Half time is not full time and HIS calendar for your life is not man's calendar😇😇
Don't blow the whistle yourself☺️☺️
BE ENCOURAGED! DON'T GIVE UP🙏🙏
With God all things are still possible!"🥳🥳
Everyday is a fresh start with potentials🥴🥴keep the Faith 🙏🙏
keep on believing in God 🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️
Never over until God the Referee of all referees says it is over🙃🙃
Enjoy your day and God Bless.

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I watched a local football match in a school playing ground that was two years back 🔙 . As I sat down, I asked one of the boys what the score was.
With a smile, he replied; "They are leading us 3-0"😩😩
And I said, REALLY!!😂😂
I have to say you don't look discouräged🥺🥺
"Discouräged?" the boy asked with a puzzled look 😒😒
Why should I be discouräged when the Referee has not blown the final whistle??🌚 💁‍♂️
I have confidence in the team and the managers; We shall definitely overcome!!☺️☺️
Truly, the match ended 4-5 in favor of the boy's team!!🙂🙂
He waved at me gently, with a beautiful smile as he left; I was amazed, mouth wide open; Such confidence; Such beautiful faith🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️
As I got back home that night, his question kept coming back to me😤😤
"Why should I be discouräged when the referee has not blown the final whistle?"
Life is like a game🥺🥺
Why should you be discouräged when The Almighty God is your manager??🌚💁‍♂️ Why should you be discouräged, when there's still life??😒😒Why should you be discouräged when your final whistle has not sounded??🙃🙃The truth is that many People Blow the final whistle themselves🙂🙂
But as long as there is life, nothing is impossible and it is never too late for you🥰🥰
Half time is not full time and HIS calendar for your life is not man's calendar😇😇
Don't blow the whistle yourself☺️☺️
BE ENCOURAGED! DON'T GIVE UP🙏🙏
With God all things are still possible!"🥳🥳
Everyday is a fresh start with potentials🥴🥴keep the Faith 🙏🙏
keep on believing in God 🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️
Never over until God the Referee of all referees says it is over🙃🙃
Enjoy your day and God Bless.