Life Hack Stories & Experiences

When I was still in primary school, I always felt like I couldn't quite measure up to the rest of the students. I knew I wasn't as academically sharp as many of my classmates, and because of that, the teachers often seated me at the front of the class. It was their way of prodding me along, making sure I could keep up with the lessons. I was smart, but not as quick as the others.

But then something amazing happened that changed everything. Our school was gearing up for the inter-house sports event, and as we practiced, a remarkable discovery was made – I was the best at marching! It seemed like a small thing, but it was a moment that transformed everything. I was chosen to lead the procession, and as our class marched past in perfect unison, we went on to win the trophy. I had never felt so proud in my life.

From that day on, things were different. Suddenly, my name was on everyone's lips, and the other students looked at me with newfound respect. It was an experience that made me strive to be better. It became my motivation, my driving force to overcome my insecurities and doubts.

Students gathered around me during break time and this made me talk more than before. They asked me to learn how to match like I did and that was how I became a leader.
I started talking more in class, attempting questions, and becoming fast in writing.

At the end of the term, I took the 5th position, and I wouldn't trade the joy of my dad's fave when he checked my result scores. He had noticed changes in me during the term and also wanted to see if it would affect my academic performance, which he did.

He smiled at me and gave me a #50 note and then he told me that I could do better.
Onwards I was better, in all things concerning school, I was better.
Looking back now, I remember how I escaped a dumb cycle of my life.

I had always dreamed of taking a leisurely bus trip to the zoo as a break from the rush and activity of daily life. As I boarded the bus, I got a feeling of eagerness. The talk of other passengers and the healing hum of the engine set the tone for the journey ahead. With a window seat secured, I observed as the cityscape gradually gave way to tropical vegetation, in advance of the bright world that awaited me at the zoo.

My heart leapt with anticipation as I arrived to the zoo. When I got off the bus, I was welcomed with the aromas of freshly cooked popcorn and the sounds of children laughing. Prepared with a guide, I set off on my travel through the animal kingdom. From majestic lions to lively monkeys swinging from branch to limb, all of them provided a look into nature's beauties.

Along the way, I struck up talks with other guests, telling stories and admiring the beauty of the creatures surrounding us.

Time seemed to slip away as I immersed myself in the wonders of the zoo. Before I knew it, the sun was gradually setting.
I made my way back to the bus, carrying with me memories that would last a lifetime.

I complain vehemently about having to tackle anatomy courses. The thought of delving into the ethmoid bone, the cranial fissure, and the intricacies of the cranial nerves fills me with dread. These are the kinds of complexities that the professors take years to master, yet I am expected to cram and regurgitate them all within a single day. The pressure is suffocating.

What could I do when the test is in no distant time?
Been scaling the text unsure if I am understanding or not. But shaa, I be smart girl normally.

Of all the cranial nerves, the trigeminal nerve stands out as the pinnacle of complexity, encompassing not just itself, but three additional nerves within its intricate web. The overwhelming nature of the material feels insurmountable, and I feel a sense of resignation settling over me. How can I possibly absorb all this information in such a short time and then regurgitate it in an exam?

The weight of the challenge is relentless, and I struggle to find a single space to breath.
As I round up this story, I'll get on with my reading.
I doubt if there's sleep for me tonight.

My psychology professor lectured to a packed auditorium of students while moving around on a stage and explaining stress management concepts. Everyone assumed they would be asked the standard "glass half empty or glass half full" question as she raised a glass of water. Rather, the professor asked, "How heavy is this glass of water I'm holding?" while grinning.

Students shouted out answers ranging from eight ounces to a couple pounds.

In response, she said, "I don't think it matters how heavy this glass is in its entirety. Everything hinges on how long I hold it. It's fairly light if I hold it for a minute or two. Its weight can give me a slight arm soreness if I hold it for an entire hour. My arm will probably cramp up and feel totally numb and paralysed if I hold it for a day straight, which will force me to let go of the glass. The glass's weight remains constant in each instance, yet it seems heavier to me the longer I hold it.

She went on, "Your stresses and worries in life are very much like this glass of water," to which the students shook their heads in agreement. Nothing happens when you consider them for a time. You start to feel a little achy as you continue to think about them. If you think about them all day, you'll become utterly numb and immobile, unable to move until you let them go.

I was determined to conquer the day's chores with a dedicated approach. I rolled out of bed, feeling eager to get a head start on my laundry and house cleaning. With a fresh cup of tea in hand, I set about gathering and sorting the pile of dirty laundry. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, and I welcomed the early hour as an opportunity to make the most of my day.

I loaded up the washing basket, carefully adding detergent and setting to work
I swiftly moved through the rooms, picking up clutter, organizing stray items, and dusting surfaces. As the morning turned into afternoon, I was pleased with my progress. However, as the day progressed, I realized that time was slipping away from me.

After a moment of disbelief, I glanced outside and noticed the sun was already on its descent, casting a warm, golden glow throughout the house. I had underestimated the amount of time it would take to complete each chore, and it had quickly slipped into evening by the time I finished washing the plates, mopping the floors, and tidying up every corner of my home.

Despite the unexpected turn of events, I couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. My home was now tidy, my laundry was clean, and a wave of relief washed over me. I may have started early with the intention of finishing early, but the satisfaction of completing everything I had set out to do was worth the extra time and effort.

I can't believe I almost missed my exam today. The clock was ticking, and I was furiously flipping through extra slides, desperately trying to soak up every bit of information left. Little did I know, it was already 11 a.m. Just an hour left before the exam – panic started swirling in my mind. How could I let time slip away like that?

I bolted out of my bed and dashed to school, praying that I wouldn't be too late. As I rushed inside, my heart was pounding in my chest. I glanced at the clock, and to my relief, I was only a few minutes past 12 p.m. Thank goodness the class hadn't started. I swiftly took my seat and delved straight into the remaining slides.

In the solitude of the exam room, I feverishly began to craft my answers. The lecturer had emphasized the need for voluminous responses, calling for a deep understanding of the subject matter. I took this to heart and wrote earnestly, delving deep into every question. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that I wasn't writing enough, that perhaps my efforts were coming up short.

After pouring out my thoughts onto the pages, I looked down at the clock. Time had slipped past me in a blur. Even after submitting my paper, I found myself grappling with self-doubt. What if I should have written more? What if I had missed out something crucial? The sinking feeling of uncertainty hung heavy over me.
But nonetheless, I wrote a lot.

The buzz of the clippers masked the other customers' conversation as I sat in the chair at the barbershop. I kept a close eye on the barber as he skillfully cut my long hair into a smooth, low cut while I observed in the mirror. I felt like a weight was being lifted off my shoulders with each pass of the clippers, both physically and metaphorically. It was a symbolic moment, letting go of the past to welcome the present.

I couldn't resist feeling the freshly cut hair with my hand while the barber was finishing up. At first, it felt weird since it was so unlike anything I was used to, but there was also a liberating quality about it. I felt a rush of confidence come over me as I paid the barber and ventured out onto the busy street. It seemed as though I had let go of previous uncertainties and fears along with my hair.

I couldn't help but notice the looks people gave me as I walked home. While some expressed astonishment and others curiosity, I maintained my composure and smiled slightly. It was wonderful to reject expectations and welcome change without hesitation. I felt like the finest version of myself, free from expectations and conventions from society, with every step.

When I opened the door after returning home, my living room's well-known sights and sounds welcomed me. However, there was a noticeable difference, like though energy was popping in the air. I couldn't help but smile when I saw myself in the corridor mirror. The individual gazing back at me was unfamiliar, but at the same time, incredibly recognizable. It was me, but a brave, fearless me willing to accept change and venture into what lay ahead. And even as I stood there, I knew that I was prepared to take on whatever lay ahead of me.

Today was the day of my exam, and I admit, I was not as prepared as I should have been. But despite my lack of readiness, I decided to take matters into my own hands and make the best of the situation. So, I woke up earlier than usual, about three hours before the exam was scheduled to start.

I left my house with determination in my heart and quickly made my way to school, hoping to carve out some much-needed time to revise in a silent and cool environment. Upon arrival, I found a quiet spot in the library, set up my books and notes, and took a seat. As I immersed myself into my reading, I couldn't help but feel the pressure of time ticking away. I navigated through pages, trying to grasp as much information as possible before the exam began.

Thankfully, I was able to download and read some important pages, bits and pieces of the scheme, before the clock signaled the start of the exam. However, deep down, I knew I hadn't covered even half of what the scheme required. Nonetheless, I remained optimistic and hopeful for the best outcome. After all, what more could I do at that point?

As the time for the exam arrived, I gathered my belongings and proceeded to the examination hall, joining my classmates as we waited in anticipation. The exam paper was handed to me, and as I skimmed through the questions, a wave of tension washed over me. It was tough; I must admit. I struggled through some of the questions, my mind racing to recall information from my last-minute studying. I attempted to answer every question to the best of my ability, reasoning and recalling any relevant information I could muster.

Soon, the exam was over, and I submitted my paper with a glimmer of hope in my heart. The feelings of uncertainty plagued my thoughts as I left the examination hall, watching my fellow students discuss their answers and inevitably comparing note. I could only hope to have done enough, to have earned at least a pass for my efforts.

Amani was known for his adventurous spirit and his unyielding curiosity about the world beyond the village. Every day, he would gaze up at the majestic peak of the mountain, wondering what lay on the other side.

One bright morning, as the sun cast its golden rays over the village, Amani made a bold decision. He announced to his family that he would set out on a journey to climb the mountain and discover the mysteries that lay beyond. His family and friends were astonished, but Amani's determination shone in his eyes, and they knew he was destined for greatness.

Armed with only his sturdy walking stick and a small bag of provisions, Amani set off on his quest. The climb was arduous, and the path was filled with obstacles. But Amani pressed on, driven by his unwavering resolve. As he ascended, the air grew cooler, and the landscape transformed into a breathtaking panorama of lush valleys and cascading waterfalls.

Several days into his journey, Amani encountered a wise old woman who lived in a humble cottage near the mountain's peak. She welcomed him warmly and offered him shelter for the night. Over a crackling fire, the old woman shared tales of the ancient legends surrounding the mountain and its hidden wonders.

Encouraged by the old woman's wisdom and kindness, Amani awakened the next morning with renewed vigor. He bid farewell to his newfound friend and continued his ascent, finally reaching the summit as the sun began to dip below the horizon. As he stood at the pinnacle, a sense of awe and wonder enveloped him, for before him lay a vast, uncharted land stretching as far as the eye could see.

Amani's heart swelled with gratitude and a deep sense of accomplishment. He knew that his journey had only just begun, and he descended the mountain, eager to share the stories of his incredible adventure with his village. From that day on, Amani became a beacon of inspiration, his courage and determination serving as a reminder to all that boundless wonders await those who dare to dream and embark on their own extraordinary journeys. And in the village, his tale was told for generations, inspiring others to pursue their dreams with unwavering faith.

And so, the legend of Amani, the fearless young adventurer, lived on, a testament to the power of courage, curiosity, and the indomitable spirit of the human heart.

I've been so occupied lately that sometimes I barely have time to catch my breath. It seems like the list of chores and university-related tasks never ends. Between attending lectures, doing assignments, preparing for exams, and running errands, there's hardly a moment to spare.

Even in my free time, I find myself trying to catch up on school readings or tackle the pile of laundry that's been accumulating for a week. Sometimes it feels like I'm running in circles, always trying to stay afloat and never quite succeeding.

This semester has been particularly grueling for me. With new challenges and responsibilities added to my plate, I find myself constantly juggling conflicting demands on my time and energy. Sometimes I feel like throwing in the towel, but I know I can't afford to give up.

Despite the exhaustion and stress, I know that I will triumph. I refuse to let this overwhelming schedule get the best of me. I keep reminding myself that hard work and perseverance pay off in the end.

March is usually when schools go on holiday, but not for the institution I attend. In fact, we have an exam paper to write a day after Easter. The thought of spending the holiday break cramming for the exam is not exactly what I had in mind for the holidays. However, I know that it's essential to stay on top of my studies and put in the hard work required to succeed.

As tiring as it may be, I'm determined to see this through to the end. In the end, I know that all the hard work, late nights, and missed social events will be worth it when I finally emerge on the other side with a degree in hand. For now, I'll keep my head down and keep pushing forward, one exhausted step at a time.

When I was in secondary school, there was an old, winding path that diverged from the main road. It was a longer route to school, but it held a special allure for me. Along this path, nestled among the lush greenery, grew a cluster of wild mango trees that bore the sweetest, most succulent fruits. I found myself drawn to this path every day, not just for the promise of a tasty snack, but for a budding business opportunity.

The wild mangoes were irresistible, and I couldn't resist plucking a few on my way to school. At first, it was just a small indulgence, something to brighten my mornings during the journey to school. However, I soon recognized the potential of these delicious fruits. I discovered that my friends at school were just as enamored by the wild mangoes as I was.

So, one day, I decided to bring a little extra to school and offer them to my friends during break time. To my delight, they were ecstatic at the opportunity to savor the juicy, wild mangoes during the school day. It didn't take long for word to spread, and soon I found myself with a small but growing clientele of classmates who eagerly awaited my arrival each day.

Before long, I realized that I was making money through this simple act. The free money was enjoyable, and at that age, I had an emerging interest in business. I noticed the thrill of offering something of value and being rewarded for it. I started to make between #200 to #500 daily; back then, the worth of the naira was appreciable, so it was a substantial amount for a student. In my small world, I was literally rich.

The daily routine became a joy for me. With each mango sold, I not only made a little extra pocket money but also found satisfaction in providing something delicious and unique to my friends. The business venture became a source of pride and fulfillment, and it sparked an entrepreneurial spirit within me.

Looking back, those moments under the wild mango trees were more than a source of income. They were the seeds of my passion for business and the satisfaction of offering something of value to others.

As the examinations approached, the load of fast approaching deadlines fell heavy on my shoulders. Despite my best efforts, I couldn't get over the belief that I hadn't read enough to ace my examinations. Night after night, I studied textbooks and lecture notes, attempting to acquire as much material as possible. But uncertainties continued to haunt me, whispering that I was falling short.

This evening, when the campus quieted down, I found myself going towards the library, trying to squeeze in a few more hours of study before the day ended.
But as I reached the library, I noticed a tiny flash coming from one of the surrounding classrooms. Curiosity stirred up I ventured closer, captivated by the gentle murmur of voices coming from the cracked doorway. Peering inside, I noticed several of my classmates clustered around desks, heads bent over textbooks and notebooks.

I realized I wasn't alone in my struggle. There were others, just like me, dealing with the same anxieties and doubts. Without hesitation, I pulled open the door and entered the room, joining them for their informal study session.

We spent hours going over our notes together, discussing thoughts and quizzing each other on important subjects. The companionship and sense of unity lifted my spirits, relieving the tension that had weighed me down for so long. In that classroom, surrounded by friends and classmates, I discovered an educational and short escape from the constant pressures of exam season.

However, as the night progressed and exhaustion set in, it became clear that the library would soon close and we would be forced to leave. With a heavy heart, I grabbed my bags and said my goodbyes to my new acquaintances, glad for the little peace they provided.

As I strolled home from school, the sky began to darken alarmingly, indicating an imminent storm. I upped my speed while grasping my trusty umbrella closely. Little did I know, it was about to wage a losing battle against the relentless downpour.

The first few droplets slid softly on the ground, fascinating me with their playful pace. I ignored the warning signs and proceeded, sure that my umbrella would keep me safe from the worst of it. My weak barricade, however, proved ineffective as the rain fell harder.

With each gust of wind, the rain lashed against me from all sides, sneaking its way through the umbrella's feeble protection. Soon, I was drenched to the bone, my clothes sticking uncomfortably to my skin. My once-pristine school bag became a sodden mess, weighing me down with its waterlogged contents.

As I trekked through the downpour, I couldn't help but feel defeated. How could something as basic as rain bring me to such a sad state? I blamed my stubbornness and wished I had followed the warnings sooner.

But, despite the chaos, there was a weird beauty to be discovered. The world around me seemed to come alive in the rain, with brilliant colors sparkling in the darkness. The sound of rainfall striking against the path morphed into an ambient symphony, drowning out all of the city's sounds.

Today, right after our biochemistry practical class, I was hit by an overwhelming wave of exhaustion. It seemed like I hadn't taken a proper rest in what felt like ages. All I wanted was to head home, collapse into bed, and let sleep whisk me away to a much-needed slumber.

But then, amidst the fatigue and weariness, a thought struck me. I realized that my constant distractions had hindered my ability to focus on my studies. I had been giving in to the allure of social media, endless scrolling, and mindless browsing, neglecting the importance of immersing myself in the world of knowledge.

Just as this realization hit, I made a decision. I wasn't going to let today be just another day wasted in the pursuit of temporary comfort. So, I gathered the remnants of my energy and resolved to stay back in school for a little while longer.

With determination in my heart, I found a quiet corner in the library where I knew I could be undisturbed. I rearranged my bag, ensuring that all irrelevant distractions were kept at bay. It was time to take back control of my focus and channel it into something productive.

As I opened my textbook, the weight of my eyelids seemed to intensify. The exhaustion threatened to engulf me, but I pushed through, knowing that the goal of rejuvenating my study habits was more important than momentary rest.

I started reading, albeit slowly, absorbing each word as if my life depended on it. With every sentence that I comprehended, a spark of motivation ignited within me. The little portion that I covered may not have been significant in terms of quantity, but its impact on my mindset was monumental.

We go again tomorrow !

John woke up to the blaring of his alarm clock, signaling the start of what he hoped would be a productive day. As a freelance graphic designer, he had a big presentation scheduled with a potential client who seemed promising. John had poured hours of work into perfecting his pitch and creating mock-ups to showcase his skills.

However, as the day progressed, things took a turn for the worse. His morning commute was delayed due to unexpected road construction, making him late for his first meeting. Despite his best efforts to catch up, the rest of the day seemed to spiral out of control.

The presentation with the potential client didn't go as planned. Despite John's enthusiasm and preparation, the client seemed unimpressed and hesitant to commit. They raised numerous concerns and suggested significant changes to John's designs, leaving him feeling disappointed and disheartened.

To make matters worse, John's computer crashed halfway through the afternoon, causing him to lose several hours of work. Frantically trying to recover his files, he missed several important emails from other clients, resulting in missed deadlines and frustrated customers.

By the time John finally made it home, he was exhausted both mentally and physically. He sank into his couch, feeling defeated and wondering if his freelance career was worth the constant disappointments. However, as he reflected on the day, John reminded himself that setbacks were part of the journey and resolved to keep pushing forward, knowing that success often came after overcoming adversity. With renewed determination, he vowed to tackle the challenges of tomorrow with a positive mindset and unwavering perseverance.

It was getting dark with the sunset, and I found myself lost in thought. Leaning against the balcony, I watched the world below, contemplating the affairs of life. Thoughts went through my mind like leaves caught in a gentle breeze, each one carrying with it a different emotion, a different perspective.

I couldn't help but wonder about the purpose of it all. What was the meaning behind the everyday routines, the struggles, the moments of joy and sorrow? Was there some design guiding the course of my life, or was it all just a series of random events?

As I pondered these questions, my thoughts turned to the people who had shaped my journey. Memories of laughter shared with friends, moments of heartache and many other thoughts occupied my mind. Each interaction, each relationship, had left a mark on my soul, shaping me into the person I am today.

But amidst the chaos of life, I also found moments of clarity. Moments when the noise of the world faded away, and I could hear the whisper of my own heart. In those moments, I realized that life wasn't about finding all the answers, but rather about embracing the journey, with all its twists and turns.

I may not have all the answers, but as long as I stay true to myself and follow my heart, I will find my way. And with that thought, I turned away from the balcony, closed my books and went home to face whatever tomorrow may bring.

I can vividly recall the last semester in college. I have to admit, I wasn't as serious as I should have been. I cruised through classes, confident that I would still ace my exams without putting in my best effort. When the results finally came out, I was hit with a wave of disappointment and self-displeasure. I was disheartened and spent countless hours, over several days, dwelling in thoughts of my perceived failure.

As I replayed the events of that semester in my mind, I realized that I had let myself down. My lack of seriousness had finally caught up with me. I was held back by the specter of my own discontent, and I struggled to find motivation to move forward. It was a weight that seemed to sink my spirit further with each passing day.

However, in the midst of my turmoil, a realization struck me like a bolt of lightning. Just because I didn't perform as well as I had hoped didn't mean that I hadn't worked hard or that I wasn't intelligent. It was simply a test, a challenge to see if I would crumble under my setbacks or emerge stronger. It was a poignant reminder that our value isn't defined solely by our accomplishments, but also by our resilience in the face of adversity.

As I grappled with this newfound perspective, I found solace in the encouraging words I encountered on social media and within my Guinean community. They were words of resilience, determination, and the unyielding power of the human spirit. It was a turning point for me. I vowed to pick myself up, to shake off the doubt and disappointment, and take charge of my future.

I made the decision to double my defenses, to push myself harder, and to never let myself be held back by my own shortcomings

Once upon a time ,there lived a blind man in a small town . He did not have any family . He always carry light Lamp in his hand whenever he went out at night. All the people in his town thought he was a mad man.

On one dark night, he was going with his light Lamp in his hand. A group of men was passing the same road where he was passing, and they started making fun of him. They said "oh blind man why do you carry light Lamp ? You're blind and cannot see anything!"

The blind man smile. The blind man politely replied, "yes unfortunately , I am blind and I can't see anything but a light Lamp which am carrying is for the people like you who can see. You may not see the blind man while coming and end up pushing me. That is why I carried s light Lamp ".
All of them were ashamed of themselves and beg for pardon.

MORAL OF THE STORY:
Think twice before you speak and never judge others based on there condition

Turns out my decision to stockpile my house with foodstuffs in December was not a stupid one after all.

As soon as I got my salary, I gathered everything, I mean every dime I made in December and went to get food items.

From rice to beans to noodles to spaghetti to custard to salt,oil,tomatoes, to egg, you name it. There was nothing edible I didn't stockpile.

My friend advised I keep some money at least, that it was stupid to spend all my salary on buying just food. I don't know if it was stubbornness, but I refused to listen.

My neighbour was even asking if I wanted to start a provision and foodstuff store.
Hehe😆

Two months down the line and I am still reaping the rewards of that decision. The prices of these foodstuff have now gone up crazy from the prices I got them in December.

Take spaghetti for example. I bought a carton for N10,500, today a carton of Golden penny spaghetti is N16,500. Rice was 58k in December. Today it is 90k+. If I sell some of my food items now, I would make really good profit.

Some of my food items are getting exhausted, like milk, golden morn, cornflakes, etc... Hopefully, when I have bulk money, I'll go stockpile them again.

Cause these are things I consume and the price will continue to skyrocket whether I like it or not.

Investing my money on food so that on Days when I go broke, I won't have to also go hungry. No matter how empty my account gets, reaching home knowing there's food in the house gives me peace, at least.

Again, it felt like a stupid decision then, but I am glad I took it.

In the beautiful village of Ikot Abasi, my childhood was filled with joy, friendship, and football. Every day, my friends and I gathered at the village square, our special spot to play.
With our bare feet and our hearts full of excitement, we chased the ball through the streets. Each game was an adventure, testing our skills and passion for the sport.

But one day, during a game, I collided with another player and hurt my leg badly. I lay on the ground, feeling pain and disappointment. I worried I might never play football again.
But through it all, my mom was there for me, comforting me and taking care of me. She stayed by my side every step of the way.

For three weeks, I stayed in bed, my leg wrapped in bandages. But with my mom's love and care, I started to feel better. Even though I couldn't play football anymore, I found strength in my mom's support. She spent so much time with me praying that I will recover soon and be able to play ball again.
As I healed, I realized that while I might not play football again, the memories and the love of my mom would stay with me forever. With her by my side, I knew I could overcome anything life threw my way.

Victor and Eseme, pals connected by friendship and a mutual love of the sea, set sail on their dependable boats, eager to discover the secrets that lie beyond. However, when a violent and merciless tempest struck, their adventure took an unexpected turn. Their boats were tossed around like toys as the storm wreaked havoc on the sea.

They tried everything possible to keep the boat afloat and it seemed to be working at first, and they were confident that with their expertise, this ocean will be simple to go through without struggling for it.

But as the storm continued and their strength began to fail, Eseme prayed to the heavens above in a shaky voice and with hopeful eyes. And just like that, the turbulent sea was suddenly miraculously calmed down—as though nature itself submitted to the force of Eseme's passionate plea.

Victor and Eseme looked out at the peaceful water, tears of praise spilling down their faces, their hearts full with amazement and awe. They continued sailing their boat towards the far horizon, singing songs of gratitude to God.