Happy Ending Stories & Experiences

As I sat in my room with nothing much to do, my eyes fell upon an article lying on the table. It looked like a cartoon pot on a sheet, but I realized it was actually an interesting sight to draw. Suddenly, I felt the urge to get creative, and the idea of making a drawing popped into my mind.

It had been ages since I last picked up a pencil to draw something, but the idea of trying my hand at it again excited me. I decided to give it a shot. As I began sketching, I quickly realized that drawing wasn't as easy as I remembered. My first attempt didn't turn out as expected, and the result was far from what I had envisioned.

Undeterred, I was determined to get that perfect image on paper. I wiped the slate clean and started over, attempting to recreate the design with more precision and care. The second attempt was better, but I felt there was still room for improvement.

Drawing and erasing, cleaning and retrying, I persisted until I finally achieved the image I had in mind. It took several tries, but with each attempt, I learned and improved. When I finished, I looked at the drawing in front of me, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment. The lines and shapes came together to form a beautiful image, and I couldn't help but admire my handiwork.

It was a small victory, but the process of creating something from scratch and persevering until I achieved the desired result was incredibly gratifying. This experience reminded me of the satisfaction that comes from pursuing a creative endeavor and the joy of seeing improvement through dedication and patience. It was a simple drawing, but it left me with a sense of fulfillment and a newfound appreciation for the art of creating.

Alright put call if you want your picture on a portrait. I can draw, no reason am.

Today was a really tough day in school. We started classes around 8 a.m., and things seemed normal at first. But then everything got all mixed up. Our first class was supposed to end at around 2 p.m., giving us a nice, long break before the next one. But that's not how it went. Two other teachers made them go on and on, and we didn't finish until around 7 p.m. It felt like the day would never end.

I was so drained and tired when I finally got home. Throughout the day, I had only managed to snack on a few things, and they didn't fill me up at all. When I got home, I was so tired that I couldn't even muster up the energy to cook, even though I had bought some groceries. My legs were aching from sitting on a hard chair for the whole day.

I just sunk into the sofa, and I couldn't decide what to eat for dinner. That's when I suddenly remembered I had some bread. It was like a lightbulb went off in my head – a surge of relief and gratefulness washed over me. Finding that bread was a small victory in a long, tiring day. It may seem like a simple thing, but it made a huge difference in my evening. After struggling through such a difficult day, just having the bread was enough to soothe my tired soul.

You might be wondering why I am awake by this time, well...
...Its my ALARM.
Good night.

I had been awaiting the arrival of the foodstuffs that my family was supposed to send me for the last three days. Anticipating their delivery, I planned and set aside a specific time to pick them up from the nearest bus stop, which was just a stone's throw away from my school.

As I waited at the bus stop, I received a call from the driver who was in charge of delivering the foodstuffs, only to my dismay, when I understood that a mix-up had occurred. He informed me that my foodstuffs was actually at another bus stop located a considerable distance from my school. My heart sank as I realized that I would have to spend more than I had budgeted for transportation to retrieve my stuffs.

Reluctantly, I counted out three times the anticipated amount for transportation. When I finally received my foodstuffs and got home, I couldn't help feeling a bit regret at the unexpected additional cost. However, as I stared at the comforting sight of my foodstuffs, my disappointment disappeared. I couldn't help but acknowledge that the joy it brought me outweighed the frustration I felt over the extra cause that I spent. After all, food is life and happiness for me. Hence, I decided to simply let go of the thought of the money I had lost on transportation.

I experienced childhood with a little homestead, where my family raised harvests and creatures. Since early on, I assisted with tasks, learning the worth of difficult work and commitment. In the wake of finishing horticulture school, I got back to assume control over the homestead. The early years were trying, with eccentric climate and harvest disappointments. However, I continued on, exploring different avenues regarding new methods and looking for direction from experienced ranchers. Gradually, our ranch started to prosper. I wedded my young life darling, and we had two wonderful kids. They cherished assisting with ranch errands, and our homestead turned into a genuine family undertaking. We extended our tasks, adding a dairy and a homestead market. Years passed, and our ranch turned into a staple locally. We facilitated ranch visits, showing youngsters supportable cultivating rehearses. Our ranch market turned into a well known objective, offering new produce and hand crafted items. At some point, our homestead was perceived as a model of feasible farming, and we got a lofty honor. Our persistent effort and devotion had paid off. We celebrated with our local area, thankful for the help and love that had made our homestead a triumph. As I peered out over our flourishing ranch, I realize that this was my blessing from heaven. I was carrying on with a day to day existence I adored, encompassed by individuals and land I esteemed. Our ranch had turned into an image of trust and success, an update that with difficult work and assurance, the sky is the limit.

Going back to the hands of time I will never forget the guilt I felt when I realized I had forgotten my dad's birthday. It was a chaotic day, and exams and other urgent matters had consumed me. But that was no excuse for neglecting to reach out to my dad on his special day.

As the day went on, I saw that my siblings had all called to wish him well. I felt even worse, knowing I was the only one who had forgotten. When I finally saw the missed call from my dad's number, my heart sank. I had let him down.

I took a deep breath and dialed his number again, hoping he would answer. But he didn't. So, I did the next best thing I sent him a long text message, pouring out my heart and apologizing for my forgetfulness. I explained how busy I was, but acknowledged that was no excuse for forgetting. I promised him that no matter where I was in the world, I would be there for his 60th birthday celebration.

Fast-forward to today, and I'm thrilled to be home to celebrate that very milestone with him! We've got a perfect plan in place to make sure he has the most blissful birthday ever. As I look back, I realize how much my dad means to me. He's my anchor, my rock, and I'm so grateful for his love and support over the years.

"Happy 60th birthday to my anchor!" I say, giving him a big hug. "I love you more than words can express. May this new chapter in your life bring you joy, happiness, and all your favorite things."

It was one of those rushy mornings when everyone seemed to be caught off guard.
The evening before, our class representative dropped the bombshell that we were scheduled for a presentation the following day, we were all in panic because no one had prepared, nor had anyone done so much as glanced at the prescribed material before time.

To add to the whole matter, the announcement came far too late, at bedtime past the late hours at 10 pm. By then, most of us were already drifting into a world of dreams. The news greeted us at daybreak on our class WhatsApp group, urging us to muster whatever fragmented knowledge we could and to be punctual for the class presentation.

Amidst the tension, I made the decision to tackle the reading head-on. While many lamented on the tiring task of absorbing the unfamiliar content, I was up for the challenge, silently picturing through pages to not just fulfill the presentation requirement but to deliver it with the kind of mastery capable of silencing the whole skeptical countenance by fellow mates.

The first group had presented, the second and the third and it was finally our turn to present. I laid low awaiting someone to come forth to present but none did. And when the man was about to pick from amongst us randomly, I stood to my feet and climbed the stage with 100% composure.

My expressions, articulations and logical explanation on the topic we were given to handle were undoubtedly gracious. I could see the course coordinator smiling uncontrollably.
None of the early groups was able to impress this man, but I surprised him.

The students were helpful too as they paid very close attention, they were baffled at my courage and how eloquent I was vocalizing the topic.
I couldn't be sure of my performance until after my conclusion, the whole class stood to clap.
The man asked for my name again and nodded in contentment.

I sat right across 'her' trying my best to look 'her' in the eyes, or what I perceived were the eyes. The atmosphere seemed somewhat surreal, like there was a palpable tension that could almost be touched if one ventured to. The nagging feeling that I was with a conscious being was quite strong. Yet, a quick look over of 'her' revealed nothing much more than a simple mix of synthetic materials perfectly fitted to make the appearance of a human feature; howbeit, one that exuded latent strength and confidence.
As 'she' shifted her gaze and focused 'her' eyes on mine squarely, I quickly pondered over how I got there, with several questions bubbling in my mind and seeking for closure.
It was year 7072, I quickly recollected. One of the days while I was relaxing on a pouch in my terrace on a rather starry night, I was contacted through telepathy by an unknown person. The message was clear enough for my discernment: the person wanted to meet with me. I had already agreed to meet with the person before on an instinct, I ran back into my house, as quickly as my robotic-fitted leg could enable me ( which was quite fast compared to normal human leg), to consult with Magi, my trusted Artificial Intelligence. On querying Magi about the incident, the response I got from her was curt: I should discontinue any further communication and interaction with the person.
But been the curious cat that I was with years of experience and skill in meddling with artificial intelligence programs, here I was. Needless to say that I didn't pay heed to Magi, my trusted AI for several years.
' I perceive you have several things running through your mind. So, shoot', 'she' said casually.
This jolted me back to reality, as I struggled to maintain a keen gaze on 'her'.
'Are you a male or female,' I asked the one question I could muster at that point .
'In your parlance, you can very well consider me a female ', she responded quite frankly.
I wasn't very much surprised by her response. Already, she had been giving off the 'vibe' that she was a female. It had been subtle, almost intentional, if I were to say so.
'Are you a conscious being?'
This second question from me was much more composed than the first; my years of training and experience in the field of Artificial Intelligence and Machine Learning naturally kicked in.
I observed that she slightly adjusted in the reclining seat she was seating before responding thus:
' I am a conscious being '.
Before I could ponder over her response and possibly pose another question to her, she said:
' What do you consider as conscious?'
( To be continued).

With a warm light in the countryside as the sun descended, my family convened in the living room to talk over our weekend. Every year, my parents would declare that we would be going to see our relatives in the village.

The idea of spending the weekend away from home made my heart sink. I was afraid to leave my friends and my surroundings behind because I had become used to the city life. I became uneasy as my people talked about the of the vacation.

I hesitated as they turned to face me and asked what I thought. My desire to decline and beg them to allow me to remain at home was strong, but the words became stuck in my throat. They begged me to seize the chance to spend time with relatives and get back to our native land, but I could see the disappointment in their eyes.

I consented to go even though I knew in my heart that it was hard for me. I was anxious as we prepared our belongings and headed on our way.

But my concerns vanished as soon as we arrived at our cousins' comfortable house tucked away among the undulating hills. I felt at ease and like I belonged there because of the clean air and the friendly greeting from our loved ones.
It was a wonderful journey I would have regretted more not going at all.

I, a final-year student, of the university of Benin felt a mix of excitement and apprehension as the last week on campus approached. Like many others, I eagerly anticipated the tradition of themed outfits each day. However, as someone from a modest background, I soon realized the financial strain it would bring.

With each passing day, the pressure mounted. Reluctantly, I called my dad for assistance, only to hear that finances were tight. Disheartened, I turned to my uncle, whom I hadn't spoken to in months. Just as hope waned, my phone buzzed with his unexpected call, asking if I needed anything.

Overwhelmed with gratitude and relief, I poured out my concerns to him. Without hesitation, my uncle offered not just moral support but financial aid that surpassed my expectations. With renewed spirit, I accepted his gesture, feeling empowered to fully embrace the last week on campus.

Adorned in themed outfits, I participated not just as a student, but as someone who had overcome a challenge with the unwavering support of family. My experience became a testament to resilience and the profound impact of familial love, reminding me that in times of need, help often arrives from unexpected places.

#your latest graduate

Today was a struggle. I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea of having to write a test, especially after a long day at our clinical post-doc that was so far from the school. We got back from school around noon, whereas the test was scheduled to begin at 2.

It was a tough situation, and to make it worse, I hadn’t managed to eat before leaving. However, surprisingly, I wasn’t feeling overwhelmingly hungry this particular day. I thanked the Lord silently, as usually, when I spend long hours at school without eating, my stomach makes known its disapproval.

The test began, and I could say that the only studying I did was waiting for the clock to strike 2. When we saw the questions, others began to voice their complaints, but I remained silent. The questions seemed familiar and comprehensible to me, and I tackled them with confidence.

Afterwards, we created and marked the test as a group, and to my surprise, the outcome was favorable. I was content with my performance, and the experience turned out to be great, unlike how I had anticipated it to be.

The Light of Hope

Nigeria's Renewed Hope

By
Comrade Philip Tyongun Doki-Abua

In a Nigeria ravaged by darkness, fuel scarcity, and economic hardship under the Tinubu Renewed Hope government, one generator stood tall in Abuja's city center. It symbolized the nation's resilience, but its dwindling fuel supply mirrored the country's desperate state.
Kande, a young and determined girl, lived in a nearby slum. She had lost her father, a maize farmer, to the brutal attacks of Fulani herdsmen who had invaded their farm, seeking to graze their cattle on the lush crops. The tragedy had left her mother struggling to make ends meet amidst soaring food prices and rampant unemployment.
As the generator's roar grew fainter, Kande's hopes seemed to fade with it. But she refused to give up. She spent her days scavenging for scraps and her nights studying by the faint light of a dying phone battery. Her dream was to become an engineer, to bring light and power back to her community.
One fateful evening, while exploring the internet at a local cybercafe, Kande stumbled upon an online community discussing sustainable energy solutions. Inspired, she convinced her friends to join her in building a solar-powered mini-grid for their community.
As they worked tirelessly, the nation grappled with the crippling fuel scarcity, Yahoo Yahoo (internet fraud) syndicates exploited the desperation, and the cost of living continued to skyrocket. The government struggled to find solutions, but Kande's small solar project sparked a beacon of hope.
When the last generator finally died, Kande's solar grid roared to life, illuminating the darkness. The community rallied around her, and soon, the project expanded, powering homes, businesses, and even a local farm.
But Kande knew that the open grazing issue was a root cause of the conflict that had taken her father's life. She decided to expand her project to include a sustainable farming initiative, promoting ranching and feed production to replace open grazing.
With the help of her community, Kande established a model farm, showcasing the benefits of ranching and feed production. The initiative caught the attention of the government, which began to support and replicate the model nationwide.
As the solar grids expanded and the farming initiative took root, the nation slowly transformed:
- Farmers could grow their crops without fear of invasion
- Herdsmen could graze their cattle on designated ranches
- Food production increased, reducing prices
- The conflict between farmers and herdsmen decreased
- The community became a model for sustainable development
Kande's initiative inspired a national movement, and soon, solar panels, mini-grids, and model farms sprouted across Nigeria. The nation slowly transformed, harnessing the power of innovation and collective action to overcome its struggles.
Under the Tinubu Renewed Hope government, Nigeria began to experience a renewed sense of hope and progress. The story of Kande and her community served as a beacon of inspiration, showing that even in the darkest of times, the power of resilience, innovation, and collective action could drive positive change.

It was a regular evening, and I was getting ready for bed. I was just about to tidy up my room when I noticed something strange happening near the door. It was a rat trying to squeeze its way through the little gap at the bottom. I was completely shocked and didn't know what to do at first.

I quickly made some noise and tried to scare it away, but it didn't work. The rat darted into the kitchen, and I knew I had to act fast. I closed off all the openings where it could sneak in and took precautions to make sure it couldn't get back inside.

After a while, I was able to get rid of the rat, but it was really stressful and unexpected. I had never experienced anything like that before. I was really worried that another might come back, so I spent the rest of the evening making sure my house was all sealed up. It was a bit scary, but I felt relieved that I was able to handle the situation on my own.

I know you reading this story might be back there saying, "This girl is this proud for getting rid of a rat", Oh yes I am.

Sweetest Summer Rain

Chapter 1: A Chance Encounter

My story begins! The sun beamed down on the picturesque town of Agbani, casting its golden rays across the rolling hills. Joe, a young man with a wild spirit and an insatiable curiosity, strolled down the main street, his eyes wandering over the charming shops and colourful houses. He had always yearned for adventure, seeking solace in the unknown and the unexpected.

As he meandered along, a burst of laughter caught his attention. Curiosity piqued, Joe turned towards the source of the joyous sound and found himself drawn to a small café tucked away in a corner. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the melodious chatter of people enticed him inside.

The café was bustling with activity, and Joe's eyes scanned the room, searching for the source of that infectious laughter. And then, he saw her. Mary, sitting at a corner table, her vibrant paintings displayed around her, emanating a sense of whimsy and joy. Her eyes sparkled like the summer rain, inviting all who looked upon her to embrace the magic of life.

Unable to resist the pull, Joe made his way towards her table, feeling an inexplicable connection. He introduced himself, and their conversation flowed effortlessly. They spoke of dreams and passions of hidden desires and untold stories. It was as if they had known each other for a lifetime, their souls entwined by an invisible thread.

Hours passed like fleeting moments, and as the sun began its descent, Joe and Mary realized they had shared something extraordinary. They exchanged contact information, promising to meet again. With a lingering smile and a glimmer of anticipation in his eyes, Joe bid Mary farewell, his heart brimming with excitement for what the future might hold.

As Joe stepped outside, the first droplets of rain began to fall. The summer rain was a gentle embrace, refreshing the air and cleansing the world around him. He tilted his head back, letting the raindrops kiss his face, and in that moment, he felt a surge of hope and possibility. Little did he know that this sweet summer rain would mark the beginning of an unforgettable journey, where friendships would blossom, secrets would unfold, and the magic of life would reveal itself in the most unexpected ways.

Anticipate!!!! CHAPTER TWO (2)....

It was a quiet day at school, so me and my friend Pat decided to take a walk through the market on our way home. Pat wanted to buy a reading table, so we were checking out different shops to find the best deal.

As we wandered through the market, we noticed that the sellers were asking for high prices. They probably thought we didn't know much about bargaining because we were just boys. Pat tried to negotiate at two shops, but the sellers didn't budge on the price.

I felt bad seeing Pat having a hard time, so I stepped in to help. I went to another shop and asked for the price of the table. The seller gave us a fair price, but I didn't stop there. I bargained and managed to get an even better deal. Pat was so surprised and happy, he couldn't believe we got such a good price.

To celebrate our successful bargaining, Pat bought me some treats to take home. He wouldn't stop smiling, from what he budgeted for purchasing the table, he still had #3000 left.

We walked home with big smiles on our faces, feeling proud of our little adventure at the market. Pat was more happy as he felt the naira notes in his pockets, he knew he wouldn't be walking home with any penny if by chance, I didnt render the expertise help which I learnt from my mother.

I've always been an active member of our church community, and today was a special day as we celebrated the completion of our church building. It was an unforgettable event, filled with joy and gratitude. People came together to donate generous amounts in support of God's work, as they always do. I've always had an excuse handy whenever donations were mentioned—I would play the student card to ease the guilt of not contributing.

Today, however, something inside me stirred, an inner spirit that urged me to step up and join in. I couldn't ignore it. Despite being a student living on a tight budget, I made the decision to contribute. It may have been just 2000 naira, but for me, it was a significant amount. I couldn't help but think of all the blessings God had bestowed upon me. In light of that, I felt compelled to express my appreciation. Besides, if I had saved that money, it might have been squandered on something frivolous in the future.

As I dropped my modest donation into the collection, a sense of peace and contentment washed over me. It felt right. The smiles and gratitude from the church members cemented my belief that I had made the correct decision.

Looking back, I'm glad I listened to that inner voice. It's true what they say—no gift is too small to make a difference. God has done marvelous things in my life, and I was grateful for the opportunity to give back, no matter the amount.

I woke up that morning with zero plans, feeling like a blank slate. But, as I reached for my phone to check the time, I noticed a WhatsApp message from my class group. My heart skipped a beat as I read the words: "Class has been fixed for today at 10 AM." Panic set in as I realized I had less than an hour to get ready.

After a quick bath and a hasty breakfast, I rushed to the lecture hall, my mind racing with thoughts of what the class might cover. But, as I arrived, I was met with a surprise: a notice on the board announcing that the class had been rescheduled for 12 PM.

With two hours to kill, I decided to wait in the library, trying to make sense of the sudden change in plans. As I sat there, I couldn't help but feel frustrated. Why had the lecturer changed the time at the last minute? And what would we be covering in class, anyway?

Finally, at 12 PM, the lecturer arrived, and we began learning about blood platelets. She spoke at a rapid pace, covering complex concepts in what felt like a blink of an eye. I struggled to keep up, my mind racing with questions. But, determined to make the most of the class, I scribbled down notes as fast as I could.

As the lecture drew to a close, the lecturer announced that she would be asking questions. My heart sank as she called on me first. I hesitated, unsure of the answer. But then, I remembered the notes I had taken earlier. Discreetly, I glanced at my notebook and found the answer. Relieved, I responded correctly.

The class ended with me feeling fulfilled, and some students even expressed surprise at how I had answered the question. As I packed up my things and left the lecture hall, I realized that the morning's events had taught me a valuable lesson: the importance of being prepared, even when things don't go as planned.

I've never been much of an action movie fan. Give me a good adventure or a heartfelt romance any day, and I'm sold. But last night, something unexpected happened. I was at a friend's place, and he was raving about this foreign action movie he had on his phone. I wasn't that keen, but when he took a break, I snuck a quick peek at the screen. What I saw captured my attention in an instant. The scene unfolding before me was electrifying, and before I knew it, I was drawn in.

After a while, I couldn't resist asking my friend for the name of the movie. "Bee Keeper," he replied. The title sounded intriguing, and I made a mental note to remember it. Later that evening, I downloaded the movie as soon as I got home. It was already quite late, and I should've been heading to bed, but I was determined to watch just a bit before sleep.

As the movie played, I found myself fully engrossed in the action and the storyline. The lead character was captivating, and the adrenaline-pumping sequences kept me glued to the screen. Strangely, the combination of action and a touch of adventure worked its magic on me. I fought against my drooping eyelids, unwilling to pause the movie until I'd seen it through. From the heart-stopping stunts to the unexpected plot twists, "Bee Keeper" held me enthralled.

As the movie concluded, I was left with a buzz of excitement, the kind I hadn't experienced after watching a movie in a long time. It had been an unexpectedly thrilling ride, and my initial reservations about action movies faded away.

I remember the day we had an old school dressing day in my faculty like it was yesterday. The whole idea had been brewing for a while, and as one of the student organizers, I was thrilled to see it finally coming to life. It was a chance for us to step back in time and embrace the fashion and styles of previous decades, and I couldn't wait to see how everyone would interpret the theme.

In the days leading up to the event, excitement buzzed through the campus. The air was filled with whispers and plans as students scoured closets and thrift stores in search of the perfect vintage outfits. As for me, I found myself diving into my parents' old photo albums, seeking inspiration from their youthful fashion choices.

When the big day arrived, the atmosphere crackled with anticipation. As I made my way to the faculty building, I was greeted by a riot of color and an eclectic mix of fashion that spanned the ages. The campus seemed to be a kaleidoscope of different eras - there were poodle skirts and leather jackets from the 50s, bell-bottoms and tie-dye from the 70s, and neon tracksuits from the 80s, to name just a few.

I had decided to embrace the jazz age of the 1920s, and I felt like I had stepped out of a time machine. In a sleek, fringed flapper dress and a feathered headband, I felt like a character from The Great Gatsby, transported into the 21st century. As I strolled through the crowds, I couldn't help but smile at the effort and creativity that had gone into everyone's outfits.

The old school dressing day was more than just a chance to play dress-up; it was an opportunity for us to connect with the past, to appreciate the timeless appeal of vintage fashion, and to celebrate the rich tapestry of styles that had come before us. It was a day filled with laughter, nostalgia, and a sense of camaraderie as we marveled at each other's outfits and shared stories of the bygone eras we were channeling.

As the day drew to a close, I felt a sense of gratitude for the experience. It had been a reminder that fashion has the power to transcend time, and that by looking back, we can find inspiration for the future. The old school dressing day had brought the campus together in a playful, unique way, and it was a day that would be fondly remembered for years to come.

My sister was moving to a new house and she called me to come help her pack.
The compound she was living in was notorious for the number of thieves there, from the pot mistakenly left outside to clothes hung out to dry, they can steal anything and she was fed up.

So I went there and we packed up everything into the moving van and left for the new house, few streets away.
I was helping her arrange the things when I decided to check the time because I didn't want to be late for an appointment I had, I checked my bag for my phone but it was nowhere to be found.
I tried calling the phone but I remembered that It was off while I was charging it that morning and I did not turn it on before I left my house.
I quickly took my sister's phone and called the van driver thinking I left it in his van but he said he didn't see any phone.

I was dejected, this period wey person never see food chop, where I wan see money buy phone?
I took a bike to the former compound to check if I dropped it there, my brothers and sisters, even the few odds and ends my sister left behind because she wouldn't need them have all been carted away.
I returned back to the new house because I did not even have the strength to attend the appointment again, body just weak me.

About an hour later, there was a knock on the door.
It was a guy from my sister's former compound with my phone in his hand.
He said he saw it on the ground and his friend picked it up and ran away, he had to chase his friend all the way to a phone market where he(the friend) wanted to sell the phone.
He collected the phone and went back home, asked around and luckily a neighbour knew my sister's new address and he brought the phone.
May God bless him.

I had never seen a peafowl, except in pictures and on screen. I had always admired the striking beauty of these creatures and longed to witness them up close. My chance came when I visited my uncle in Benue.

Benue was filled with sprawling forests and pathways, where people hunted a variety of wild animals, displaying their catches at the local markets. During my travels, I saw an array of wildlife, from crocodiles to antelopes, cheetahs, and pheasants. Each one was a new and fascinating sight.

But then, as we meandered through the dense woodland, I caught a glimpse of something truly spectacular. In the distance, I spotted what I believed to be a peafowl. I couldn't contain my excitement as I pressed closer to the vehicle's window. And sure enough, there it was, a peafowl, proudly displaying its vibrant and iridescent plumage. It was a breathtaking sight.

The peafowl's feathers glistened in the dappled sunlight, creating a mesmerizing display of colors – a sight that I had only ever seen in pictures. I was eager to capture the moment and ensure I had a keepsake of this rare encounter. But as I reached for my phone, I hesitated, realizing it could easily be snatched from me in this unfamiliar place.

Reluctantly, I put my phone away, choosing to imprint the scene in my memory instead. As we slowly moved away, I stole one last glance at the stunning peafowl, feeling a sense of peace and contentment at having witnessed such a magnificent creature in its natural habitat.

Although I couldn't capture the moment on camera, the memory of that enchanting sight stayed with me long after I left Benue. It served as a reminder of the extraordinary beauty waiting to be discovered in the world around us. Seeing the peafowl was an experience I would always cherish, and it inspired me to seek out more moments of untainted wonder and joy, wherever my adventures may take me.